#volunteer would be a good code word

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[born-in-hell]

Hi!

As some of you might know, southern Brazil, specifically the state of Rio Grande do Sul, has been struck by heavy rains and a consequential flood. The rains started on monday (29/abr) and only stopped today (5/mai), in Porto Alegre ─ the state capital, and the city i live in ─ and in the other cities nearby.

The lake that borders PoA (named Guaíba) has reached more than 5m up its normal level. This is higher than on the historic 1941 flood. The city's center ─ a big residential and commercial hub, beyond being the host of most of our public services (such as the city hall and the state government) ─ is completely taken by the water. Many other neighbourhoods were also affected.

Smaller cities that also border Guaíba were even more heavily affected, such as Eldorado do Sul, whose territory was almost 100% flooded.

The state is, for a lack of a better word, abandoned by the people that were supposed to aid.

Our governor, Eduardo Leite, is more worried about his plitical campaign ─ making dramatic videos, changing his facebook pfp to one of him with a public defense vest, making streams with no useful information ─ than with the people's lives. This year, he destinated only R$50.000 (~ USD250.000) for the Civil Defense. For the entire year. He is now, delegating the responsibility of recuperating our state to the Federal Government, stating that "the rbuilding of the RS will demand a Marshall Project".

Porto Alegre's mayor, Sebastião Mello, has vanished. He sold our city out to big enterprises ─ Melnick, Zaffari and Panvel, mainly ─, and hasn't destined any public resources to maintaining the Mauá wall (a wall built after the 1941 flood with a system made to protect the city from other floods), which caused many points to fail and the water to invade the city.

This is the danger we all face with a neoliberal system.

Neoliberalism is an individualist ideology. All these people and companies I named did close to nothing to help us. Or even made it worse. The Civil Defense, for example, published a map of all the areas that would be affected, but had to take it back, since it didn't consider the topography.

Its the people for the people.

This situation is being aided by people using their own resources. Donations of various natures and volunteer work. It is very beautiful, in a way. It shows that colaboration and union can do great things. It shows, at least to me, that the world can reach, one day, a self sustaining way of living, contrary to the ultra-individualistic capitalism some preach. Humans can, and are, good.

But it also lays out how much the people that govern us failed us.

Human lives were lost because of their negligency.

This flood isn't normal. It is a product of the huge levels of degradation multi-billionaire companies are causing the world, supported by higher class and their representatives. Eduardo Leite changed almost 500 points of our state's Environmental Code, for the worst, when he was first elected in 2019. His actions, and the actions of all other neoliberal politicians, such as our ex-president Bolsonaro, are what created this situation. They are responsible for everything that is going on here.

This flood isnt the only environmental crisis this state has faced in the last 6 months. This isn't the last one that will happen.

This text is, beyond a personal vent, a warning. We need to keep fighting against a system that is actively trying to kill us. Please, do not support ideals and people ─ especially if said people will rule you ─ that go against the environment, that preach that the capital, the money, the posesions, are more important than lives. Of the people, of the animals, of the environment. Fight for a better world, i know there can be one.

Always be aware of the climate in your areas. Things like this won't happen only here. Please be safe.

Sorry for the long post.

If you're interested in donating, @decaf-lesbian made this post with some links for international and national donations.

-> If you're from Brasil, check this link, that has a copilation of maps of risk areas, shelters, places to donate to, etc, made by a UFRGS student.

[illubean]

Can you write a scenario/headcannons where the hxh characters have a crush on Zoldyck!reader? (I think reader would have such overprotective brothers, killua and illumi lol)

HXH with a crush on Zoldyck!reader

Characters: Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paladaknight, Chrollo Lucilfer Type: Fluff?, Headcanons, Gn!reader

why is illumi the only one with eyebrows and a mouth in this photo

Warnings: none

Kurapika Kurta

out of his two older friends Killua thinks Kurapika is the better option

but he still doesn't like the idea of you dating anyone

like his dear older sibling is giving their attention to someone other than him? unacceptable!

Kurapika is a lot more reserved with his feelings than Leorio, leaving not much room for Killua to meddle

so the younger boy just watches from afar

he gives the blonde glares and intense side eyes, and when he feels he's getting too close he won't hesitate to swoop in and steal you away

Kurapika is pretty smart so he's probably found a few ways to get around your brother

after a while of you two talking without Killua's knowledge you eventually get together

one day he caught you two holding hands under a table at the diner or sitting at a bench

he actually screams

with erratic gestures to your guys' hands he's like "WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN"

the boy is slack jawed

he thought he did such a good job keeping you separated

"watever just...don't hurt them or anything!"

Leorio Paladaknight

Killua's first reaction to learning this information is "No way, you're too old for my sibling!"

Killua babes he's only like 19

Leorio is by no means subtle with the way he feels about you even if he thinks he is

Killua makes it his life mission to keep you separated 💀

The group is splitting up and Leorio volunteers to go with you? So does Killua. He wants to sit next to you on the train? Aw too bad, your little brother is already sitting there

but if by some miracle you get away from your brother he doesn't waste a single moment in asking you out

after learning that his attempts to keep you separated failed, Killua gets a little pouty

"Seriously? You chose THIS guy!?" "What the hell is that supposed to mean you little shit!"

knowing you guys got together doesn't stop the boy from trying to get in the middle of things though

he's a pro at this point

he will find a way to crash literally any date you plan on going on soo you guys gotta be secretive about it

you probably had to come up with code words in order to plan dates 💀💀💀

Chrollo Lucilfer

the only way I see this working is if you were already part of the troupe so lets go with that

out of literally anyone on the planet he just HAD to have a crush on a Zoldyck

to say your family wasn't pleased would be an understatement

especially Illumi

the Zoldycks typically don't do -ships...like friendSHIPS or relationSHIPS so Chrollo pining for you is definitely an issue

and when two of your brothers end up joining the troupe after you

let's just say Chrollo isn't having the best time.

Kalluto is a lot less aggressive or opinionated on the matter than his eldest brother, but he still isn't fond of the idea of you ending up with the leader of the phantom troupe

he finds ways to draw your attention away from Chrollo

whereas Illumi isn't so passive

if he catches the head of the spiders so much as glancing at you he's going to stand in his line of vision with a stern "Stay away from my sibling."

and just to keep things easy on himself Chrollo heeds these warnings

well..until he's able to catch you alone

you guys are gonna have to date on the dl and be SERIOUSLY sneaky

dating while coming from a family of assassins is not an easy feat

In conlusion alongside being professional assassins, the Zoldyck boys are also professional cockblockers

[pumpkinbxtch]

.・゜✭・. the code for “i like you”

— leo valdez x daughter of athena!reader

Summary: Leo likes you so much that when he has the dream opportunity to get close to you, he expresses his feelings to you, in Morse code, accidentally.

Warnings: swear words?? yeah, but like three.

A/N: English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad.

A/N: I had so much fun doing this, i relived primary school when i used morse code to make love letters, ew. Btw enjoy.

Leo was terribly attracted to you and you, as expected, went completely oblivious about it. The boy had practically tried everything possible to get close to you; He tried to participate in the same practices as you, walking where you were or talking to those you were friends with, but he just couldn't get it.

The only thing that play in his favor was that they were both leaders of their respective cabins. So when you talked about the planes your cabin had to increase camp security during one of your regular meetings Leo immediately pulled out a favor and volunteered to help (although the guy had no choice anyway, literally his cabin was the only one that could make it)

Chiron didn't object and ended up emphasizing that the two of you would mainly have to work side by side, while he winked at the son of Hephaestus, and Leo wondered if his intentions were really that obvious. Whatever, he was happy.

— That's great, have fun, idiots — Clarisse said in a mocking tone. She patted you on the back and winked.

» Does everyone have eye problems today? « You wondered, but didn't give it much thought. You looked at Leo, and he smiled exaggeratedly at you.

You hadn't paid much attention to the guy, but of course you had him in located: he was a trouble-maker, talented, with very nice hair, in addition, - and gods forbid that anyone else should know - his jokes did seem funny to you as difference from the opinion of others. But you didn't give him many detours and smiled kindly, hiding your desire to giggle.

— See you in a bit, Valdez. I'll go get the plans. —  and you left his sight again, leaving him alone in The Big House. Leo would have preferred to accompany you, but he believed that he had already spent his good luck bonus for the day, so he decided not to press. Chiron put a hand on his shoulder and sighed dreamily.

— The sweet and bitter pain of love — The centaur patted his shoulder a few more times and trotted into the house.

An hour later, Leo had tried to make bunker 9 as presentable as possible for your arrival. But the accumulated junk of several weeks was difficult to hide under a rug, so he just arranged it so that it would not get in the way and cleaned it the tables. In the name of Hephaestus, he was a nervous wreck.

By the time you crossed the door, he wanted to bury himself along with the scrap metal under his work table.

On the other hand, for you, it was impressive. Of course, you were not unfamiliar with the bunker, but looking closely at all of Leo's projects that he had in progress stimulated your brain in the same way that the largest candy store would do for third year old. You forced to keep your mouth closed and walked with the papers towards Leo, who was sitting on the other side of the huge blueprint table.

He looked apparently uncomfortable, and you did not blame him, you assumed that entering the workshop of a son of Hephaestus where his most precious creations are kept was the equivalent of grabbing Clarisse's favorite weapon to play badminton. You preferred to get to the point by spreading out the plans and go straight to the explanation of them.

Everything was fine, until after a while, Leo began to make anxious movements that did nothing but spread the feeling towards you. At first the knocking on the table while you were telling him the plans seemed meaningless to you, until you managed to distinguish a certain rhythm in them, then a hidden meaning. Your mind split in two, and you continued listening carefully while you continued explaining. How? ADHD.

Two knocks in a row, a silence, a tap and a long tap… Was that Morse code?

(.. / .-.. .. -.- /) I like…

You finally figured it out.

(.. / .-.. .. -.-/) I like…

He repeated. It was definitely Morse code.

But what did he like? Your plans?

That last thought made you falter in the conversation, and you stuttered, Leo placed his brown eyes on you attentively and touched the code again.

(.. / .-.. .. -.-/) I like (-.-- --- ..-) You

You blinked dumbfounded as you bumbled and tried to put your sentence together to return to the conversation about the security system without much success, Leo frowned softly probably wondering if you had gone crazy already. But that didn't matter because at the same moment his knuckles collided again against the wooden table making you lose total concentration.

(.. / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-- --- ..-) I like you

You were probably wondering if he was doing it on purpose or consciously, but the answer was no, Leo was a total idiot watching you explain plans and strategies. For him, it was easily like being in paradise, but his emotion tended to show itself involuntarily, and in this case, his knuckles began to encode messages that his brain spun while you continued babbling.

It was only when you stopped talking and gave him a big look of confusion that he stopped.

His blood ran cold. What had he done wrong?

—Leo? — you asked incredulously with narrowed eyes.

—Yes?—  He mumbled nervously and then laughed. Leo cursed his anxious reflexes. — I'm listening, it's just a lot, and it's hard for me, you know what attention deficit is like.— He let out another laugh and his cheeks began to burn. He was just saying stupid things. 

You shook your head and sat down.

—I know Morse code too, you know? We use it a lot in combat.

Leo's blood ran cold for the second time, and he thought he would burst into flames at the same time, inconsistent but possible.

— I don't think so.

And he gave himself a mental slap. Not only had he just told the girl he liked that Leo didn't think she knew Morse code, but to a daughter of Athena. ATHENA. Leo forced himself to deliver another slap.

But the question was now what the fuck had he said in Morse code? Then he heard you clinking the cap of a pen against the table.

(.. / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-- --- ..-) I like you

Shit.

—Wasn't that Morse code? You've been playing it since we were going through the forest plane.

The son of Hephaestus jumped from his chair and stiffened, beginning to babble.

— Me, no, it's just that sometimes I, no, my mom-

—Just tell me if it was true or not.

— YEAH! — Leo pressed his eyes and covered himself with his hands, seconds later a small flame caught fire above his head.

You didn't want to show your shock or how much your heart had raced, but you also got up from your chair and walked towards him. Leo was still in the same position, which almost made you laugh, but you preferred to direct your attention to the flame that was flickering in his hair. You raised your hand over him and tried to pat it out, trying not to get tangled in his curls. By the time you extinguished the flame, he was looking at you like you had just kicked his bronze dragon.

His eyes had widened in a way that you considered unnatural, this time you did let out the laugh. You cleared your throat and took a step back.

— An original way of expressing it, I have to admit — you said still with a playful look.

The boy blushed more, if that was possible.

— Sorry, I didn't want to bother you…

You frowned and shook your head.

— No, no, what I mean is… — You cleared your throat. Now you were nervous, your words would become more clumsy, so you picked up the pen cap again to knock it on the table:

.- ... -.- / -- . / ..-. --- .-. / .- / -.. .- - . (Ask me for a date)

Leo went over each tap and looked at you surprised.

You raised your hand asking for time and played one last word.

..-. --- --- .-.. (Fool)

And you smiled, satisfied that you had done it quickly, but even more so that the boy you had suggested going out with you had encoded the message in record time. How you liked smart boys!

Leo leaned towards you with a self-righteous smile, clearly feeling victorious. Yes, there was also the troublemaker, in total, he was a kind of mad genius.

—So, ma'am, would you go out with me?

— I'll see — You said as you picked up your plans. His smile faded and he began to stammer buts. — See you at dinner, Leo.

You smiled and made your way out of the bunker. Clearly, you would accept, but you would let Leo try a little harder.

[s-4pphics]

dial. 4 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p

You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited. 

You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out. 

Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night. 

When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine. 

Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of. 

You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!

“… You want me to what.” 

Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud. 

After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.

Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!

Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing! 

Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “

“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”

“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…” 

Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…” 

“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint. 

You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “

“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully. 

You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”

Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!

Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—

“Run the plan by me one more time?” 

You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend. 

She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.

“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!” 

You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “

“Alright.” 

Your heart jerked in your chest.

“I’ll do it.” 

“R-Really?” 

“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.  

You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her. 

She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky. 

“Our little secret?” 

You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers. 

You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge. 

Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though! 

Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!

It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on. 

“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.” 

“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order. 

“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…” 

You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”

She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day. 

She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s all!” 

You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step. 

That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!

Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day. 

Today was the fucking day! 

You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions. 

What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released. 

You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair. 

“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band. 

The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance. 

“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain. 

“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed. 

She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “

“I wanna kiss!”

“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.” 

Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face. 

“Did y’all fucking make up?” 

“Not at all,” you hummed. 

She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size. 

“Oh my god…” 

“What.” 

“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “

“What’s weird about being happ— “

She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “ 

“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “

“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “

Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker. 

Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.

“… And who the fuck is Abby?” 

By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known. 

Oh fuck. 

“U-Uh— “

Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it. 

“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “

“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!

You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.” 

“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”

“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.” 

Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk. 

“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “

“Shut it. I want to.” 

A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.” 

… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled? 

Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.” 

She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle. 

“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.” 

The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party! 

You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery! 

Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him! 

Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them. 

Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —

You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—

You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin. 

You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it. 

Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought. 

… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again! 

You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group. 

“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl. 

Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady. 

You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you. 

Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks. 

She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass. 

Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open. 

Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—

You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!

“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear. 

Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her. 

You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses. 

Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner? 

Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!

And you looked so fucking sexy in the act. 

The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you. 

How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet. 

Well, you used to be.

Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest. 

All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy. 

And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her. 

Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick. 

What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. 

She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby. 

Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite. 

She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.

She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?

The door’s right there. 

She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is. 

One twist and it’s over. 

She’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt. 

S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled. 

Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief. 

Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice. 

Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened. 

S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone. 

She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you. 

Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess. 

Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?

Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though. 

W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me. 

Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—

Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam. 

Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. 

Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full. 

She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost. 

Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording. 

Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt. 

S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—

Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn. 

Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—

Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes. 

M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—

Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—

Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them. 

Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—

Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—

Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—

Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.

You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good. 

And so much better. 

It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered. 

Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear. 

Think she came when you did, She snickered.

A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood. 

Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go. 

You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed. 

Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her. 

“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.

She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand. 

“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade. 

You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met. 

Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again. 

“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”

She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs. 

You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps. 

Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life. 

She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers. 

… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser. 

She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers. 

Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said. 

She fucked up, she fucked up so bad. 

Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment. 

Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it. 

You actually fucking hated her. 

Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen. 

Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit. 

She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly. 

Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit. 

You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck. 

Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers. 

She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room. 

She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. 

A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please? 

Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?

M’so wet, oh god!

You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—

Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad. 

She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless. 

She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.

She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart. 

She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited. 

Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption. 

ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO

this is not a love triangle!!! or is it

jk its not lol

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus

teaser, one, two, three, five

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: this song is so post-prison reid coded, it was only a matter of time. 

Shameless

The tension had been instantaneous, from the very moment you first met him. It was no more than a passing glance across the office to begin with, but you have been proud of the double take you caused Doctor Spencer Reid, ever since. 

Emily Prentiss had been giving you a tour of the BAU offices on your first day; you had been listening to her intently, making as many mental notes as you could to avoid having to ask where things were and embarrass yourself further than you already feared you would, joining a team of seasoned profilers. When your gaze met the glance that had originally been absentminded, but was heated when it returned to you, all words lost their meaning. Hazel was the only colour you could recall the existence of for the next few minutes.

The tour of the offices continued, and you tried your best to keep your eyes to yourself, but there was a near gravitational pull to the attractive gentleman who you suddenly had a sixth sense for, acutely aware of just how far away he was at all times, until the very moment you were introduced.

“And this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Emily had introduced you, exchanging a smile with him that told you the two of them were good friends. 

“Pleasure to meet you…?” Spencer held his hand out to shake yours, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth when you looked up at him, your eyes widening ever so slightly on being close enough to appreciate his full height, his wild curls, and your new favorite color.

“(Y/N).” You had answered, meeting his hand with yours, an electricity passing through you that was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, from such simple contact.

The way his much larger hand squeezed yours, how gently he shook your hand, and the slightest twitch in his smile; you knew that he felt it, too.

“Pleasure to meet you, (Y/N).” Spencer reiterated, tasting your name for the first time and deciding there was no other name he liked the flavor of more. Your name swirled around his brain like whiskey in a glass that he nursed for a little too long, savoring each sip like the finest critic, not missing a single note of you.

From that moment, everything Spencer did exacerbated your situation. Naturally, you went out of your way to avoid talking to him; any close proximity was a risk to your health, but that didn’t matter. The way he stood, the way he sat, walked, leaned, frowned, smiled, breathed - it was all too much for you. What did he expect? You are just a girl with hormones that you are certain he could sniff out from a mile away, given the look you’d see in his eyes during instances where you caught him staring at you. Or rather, instances in which Spencer’s gaze deliberately lingered long enough for you to notice.

He was a quiet man, and an observant one. A seasoned profiler, yes, but his time in prison had given him a fresh insight to people, particularly their primal instincts. Survival had been a focus of his during his time behind bars, but it seemed that living in that wild mindset had tuned him into other primal instincts, too. While Spencer had no scientific evidence to support his theory, he was certain he could hear your heart rate pick up whenever he passed you. 

Having never felt like someone that women fawned over, Spencer took great pride in your attraction to him that was so obvious even he could not deny it. He almost felt cruel, impacting you to such an extent, but he came to find that this was the conclusion no matter what he did; it was simply a result of him, to you.

The tension between you thrives during cases where the two of you are forced to work together. Spencer has even been known to volunteer to assist you when you are set specific tasks, and you have always been too flustered to politely dismiss him. Conversations between you are minimal, mainly spent with Spencer smiling to himself and you avoiding looking in his general direction; an experience you’d wager to be more painful than pulling teeth. 

Of course, when working together, you do have to talk to him on occasion, but everything feels far too charged. The subtext is blinding to both of you, even in small talk. 

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Spencer greeted you when you had arrived to the office this morning, not long after him. He was still unpacking his bag, leaning over his desk in a way that made you want to scream, and you couldn’t even consider the smile he gave you as he looked over his shoulder.

His greeting was as generic as it always was, but the subtext told you more. 

I’m pleased to see you.

“Morning, Spencer.” You had answered, smiling at him in turn, but your breath caught in your throat, making your subtext just as obvious as his.

I’m pleased to see you, too.

In a moment of self-awareness like you’d never known, you and Spencer simultaneously acknowledged that there was nobody else in the office. At the same time as your eyes widened with the realisation, Spencer’s gaze softened, settling on you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, his voice quieter, more tentative - another object of small talk that you understood loud and clear.

Did I cross your mind last night?

“Yeah, thanks. Did you?” You returned the question, words casual but voice rising in pitch steadily, something a profiler couldn’t possibly miss. 

Of course. Did you think of me?

“Yes, thank you. I tend to be quite lucky, in that regard.” He paused, letting his words sink in before he added, “I don’t struggle with sleep as much as I used to, when I was young.”

As Spencer spoke, you noticed he was slowly walking towards you, crossing the small amount of space between his desk and yours in no more than three paces. He stood purposely close to you, leaning against your desk as your shaking hands continued to unpack your things from your bag. He could hear your sharp intakes of breath, and he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face.

A notepad fell from your trembling hand as you retrieved it from your bag, a soft thud against the table. With only half a second’s delay, you put your hand on it, intending to pick it up, but finding Spencer’s hand was already there, acting as a barrier but applying no pressure in holding your notepad against the desk, no resistance, because he didn’t need to apply that to you. Centimeters separated your fingers and his, tiny bolts of lightning sparking in the space between.

Eyes wide like a deer in headlights, you lifted your head to find him already smiling down at you, exuding charm and another sensation rolling off of him in waves that you dared not clarify.

Silence. 

Seconds.

You couldn’t even breathe.

And then the elevator doors opened, the rest of the team beginning to file in for the day, and Spencer broke eye contact to look over at the office entrance. He noticed the deep breath that you took the moment he looked away, of course. As he walked over to the rest of the team, he took the chance to drag his fingers across the small of your back when he passed behind you; a deliberate act of sabotage. Had it been anyone else, that touch had been so light you’d be surprised if you even registered it, but from Spencer? Your senses were heightened like that of a small animal in a clearing, face to face with a creature that wanted to eat you alive.

It is completely unsurprising that you have failed to recover from the events of this morning, which have been replaying in your subconscious for the entire day while you have filed case reports. What would usually be a welcomed distraction has, today, been nothing short of a curse. To make matters worse, you have felt his gaze on you from across the office, periodically throughout the day. Monitoring the results of his varying hypotheses based around the growing impact he can have on you, and you on him - though he is far better at concealing that than you are; a long standing career as a profiler has its advantages in replicating calm behavioral signs with absolute precision. Still, he would admit that he has been struggling to catch his breath since the events of this morning, too. If you asked.

However, the rest of the team are just as good at maintaining their composure in the wake of the obvious, and they are not as unaware as they pretend to be. In fact, they are excruciatingly aware of the tension between the two of you that, actually, weighs heavily on everyone, wherever you go. It is almost as suffocating to them as it is to you. Almost.

That is why not a single member of the team is surprised when, at the very end of a day spent filing without any computer troubles, your laptop receives a particularly well timed virus from a specific technical analyst, that does not allow you to log out or shut down your system as quickly as everybody else manages to. The rest of the team pile into the elevator with giddy smiles, having noticed much like you have that - to your absolute dismay - Spencer is deliberately packing his bag at an excruciatingly slow pace, to keep him in the office just a little while longer, his gaze fixed on your frustrated countenance as you argue with your laptop while it simply follows the list of commands sent by Penelope Garcia in the form of a calculated delay. 

The sound of the elevator doors closing and the team’s voices fading beyond its closed doors, make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end. Mere seconds later, your laptop completely fixes itself, logging out and shutting down at its usual speed, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s finally let you go?” Spencer jokes casually, his tone teasing and his subtext as clear as ever. 

You have no excuse to avoid looking at me when I’m talking to you, now. Can’t risk being impolite, can you?

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you begrudgingly lift your gaze to meet Spencer’s, your heart skipping a beat when you acknowledge just how close he is to your desk, for the second time today. 

“Yeah.” You answer, not having the capacity to verbalize anything more, but Spencer hears the rest.

Yes. You are always right, and it is infuriating. 

“Ready to go?” He asks lightly, his smile having evolved into a smirk filled with secrets and unspoken desires.

“Yeah, are you?” The voice that passes your lips is barely recognisable as yours, it’s so strained.

“Definitely. It’ll be nice to sleep in my own bed, rather than a hotel, for once.” Spencer chuckles airily, the sound making your chest tighten even more, because you know exactly why he’s laughing.

You’re thinking about my bed now, aren’t you? Wondering if there’s enough space for you. Of course there is, you’re such a small, sweet thing.

“Agreed. I need an early night!” You joke with Spencer, intending to throw his own sultry subliminals right back in his face.

Perhaps I’ll spend some time in my own bed, waiting for you to cross my mind again.

Reaching the elevator, you press the button, standing at Spencer’s side and waiting for the metal box that will force you to linger in close proximity, to return to this floor.

“You’re in need of that? I thought you said you slept well last night?” He catches you out, his knowing smirk looking down at you. 

Making your motivations even more clear than usual, I see.

“A girl can never get enough beauty sleep! Trust me, I need it.” You chuckle, but your heart is in your throat.

“What a nonsensical implication.” Spencer murmurs as the elevator doors open, and the two of you step inside, not daring to force anymore space between you. 

Centimeters between your hands again, your opposite hands holding the straps of your bags to your shoulders, your free hands hanging loosely at your sides, those tiny bolts of lightning causing an instinctual pull, until you feel his pinky finger brush yours ever so lightly. 

Your breath catches, and you bite your lip. 

Your eyes and his dart up to the top of the elevator doors, watching the floor numbers tick down, and you can almost hear Spencer calculate exactly how long the two of you have as his gaze lowers to you, pulling yours to his. 

The pace at which he leans down to you is premeditated, you are certain of it, and against your better judgment, you find yourself standing on your tiptoes without an ounce of free will. 

His breath fans your nose, and for the first time you can detect the shakiness in him that he’s been able to read so easily in you from the moment he saw you; the impact that this same tension has on him is not so easily hidden in close proximity, either.

If Spencer speaks now, his lips will brush yours.

And then the elevator doors open, the entrance lights flooding in and forcing the two of you to part from each other. 

“I should…walk you, to your car.” Spencer says, his voice huskier than you’ve ever heard it, the subtext louder than before.

This isn’t over. 

Your head is spinning, but you manage to nod it. Admittedly, it is darker than you had anticipated when you walk out into the parking lot, and had you been with anyone else, you likely would have asked them to walk you to your car, given that fact. But Spencer’s hand at the small of your back is making you forget the very ground beneath your feet, let alone how this could have played out if he had left with the rest of the team. But he has waited, since your very first day, for a moment like this. 

Seconds.

Silence, save for your equally hurried footsteps towards your car. Stopping when you reach your car door, you swallow, hard, and turn to face Spencer.

“Thank you.” The words match the comprehensive size of your voice as you speak them. 

I’ll never forget this. Not a microsecond.

And the look in his eyes mirrors your subtext.

His large hand stays at the small of your back, despite you having turned to face him, and he is closing in. Closer, closer, and closer still, until that deliciously familiar sensation of his shaky breaths flutter against the skin of your face. 

“Is this what you want?” Spencer whispers into the dark, your body now pressed against the door of your car as his other arm cages you in, his palm flat against the roof of your car. His whisper is heavy, and for a moment your delirious mind wonders if you are hearing the subtext aloud, rather than feeling it in between the lines of your gestures, glances, small talk. 

All you can do is nod, but that is not enough.

Spencer shakes his head, some of his curls brushing your forehead.

“Need to hear you say it.” His voice is still a whisper, but it’s more desperate now. The mask has fallen, the yearning beneath it felt in full force, unconcealed before your eyes for the very first time.

“I want this…you.” Despite your best efforts, your voice is no more than a whisper, either; the tension holding you both by the throat, squeezing every last breath from you, until there is no other choice.

Spencer’s lips fall onto yours, the his hand at the small of your back instinctively moving to claim your hip, squeezing, grabbing, pulling you closer when his body is already flush against you, holding you against your car. He breathes life into you, and you return the favor, granting him passage to foreign lands that he’s been dying to explore, to taste, to master. And he does, in a matter of seconds. While his tongue does not hold a separate brain, Spencer’s eidetic memory carefully notes every detail of you that his body learns, every instinctual reaction you give him. Your shaking hands card through his wild curls, tugging him down to you as if to pull him into you, to become one with him. In this moment, and in every moment since the day you met, you have wished for nothing more. His lips move with yours in a dance unknown to both of you, but you are two partners across the floor that have eyed each other all night, rehearsing with each other in your glances for far too long, and practice makes perfect. 

Losing himself in you, Spencer’s hand that was once at your hip is now at your thigh, lifting it to hold it up at his own waist, gripping the soft flesh through your suit trousers. Only when you whimper into his mouth does he come to his senses and pulls away from you, but barely. 

“Can’t do this here.” He utters between breathless kisses, unable to stop himself, unable to get enough of you.

“My bed or yours?” The question comes with a smirk that you press into Spencer’s lips, and he chuckles darkly against yours in turn. 

“Bad girl.” He teases, and he loves saying it, too, but he doesn’t answer your question with words. Instead, Spencer releases your thigh in favor of wrapping an arm around your waist from behind, leading you across the parking lot, to his car. 

And, interestingly, his answer to your question is the one word swirling around his mind like whiskey in a glass when he looks down at you. 

Mine.

[cobragardens]

Holy Kittens, Y'all: My Favorite Good Omens Moment Has Gotten EVEN MORE ROMANTIC

Okay so I wrote this post about my favorite moment in Good Omens, and the stuff people are pointing out in the reblogs and comments is blowing my freaking mind, and I HAVE to show you how beautifully this all fits together, like I am flailing at my desk about this.

@vidavalor points out this gif from @soft-ange-aziraphale [Source]:

Here it is in sequence (gifs 1-4 from Fuck Yeah Good Omens):

I can't stop laughing over Aziraphale's smile, which shows, as @quoththemaiden says, that he's "utterly delighted with himself" and knows perfectly well that he's minxing Crowley; and this tiny extension of the moment convinces me even more that Crowley is desperately fighting a smile himself here.

Actually there's a lot in @quoththemaiden's comment that's insightful and well-put:

Totes agree with all of this.

And then. AND THEN!

I knew Crowley was trying to communicate something with this Shakespeare line, but I didn't know what until @paperbunny and @musingsofmaisie put it out there: Crowley is complimenting Aziraphale here, telling him he's enjoying being in Aziraphale's company, telling him his humor worked.

Remember how I keep banging on about how much equivocation Crowley does? This is more equivocation. In 1601, Richard Burbage was 34 years old, so age hasn't had the chance to wither his infinite variety yet. The stupidity of demons and the ignorance of angels regarding the human aging process prevent surveillance from noticing the poor applicability of this line to Burbage, but since the first half of the line fits Aziraphale (who does not age at all) more than Burbage (who is merely not yet old) it stands a chance of indicating to Aziraphale that Crowley is speaking about him. And the underlying true meaning of this equivocal statement would be A DIRECT RESPONSE TO MY FAVORITE MOMENT: Even though I have known you so long, you still surprise and delight me.

(Crowley's Antony & Cleopatra line also accomplishes something else important: it gets William Shakespeare to go away so they can speak privately, because Shakespeare doesn't want them to see him writing it down.)

A Dip Into Speculation

I don't think the evidence for it is binding enough to say for sure, because the evidence is really just that it fits together so nicely and lines up so well with A&C's coded romantic messages in 1793; the (pretty overt, actually, I mean damn) romance in 1827; the size and nature of the fight in 1867; the yeah, really overt romance in 1941; and in 1967; and yes okay now that I'm thinking about it the whole series, but I have this View about how the rest of the 1601 scene goes.

And in fact there is Word of Gods that could be interpreted as evidence against this little pet headcanon I have, though it doesn't necessarily have to be:

Here's my assertion: Aziraphale volunteers to go to Edinburgh for Crowley. Crowley cheats the coin toss to accept Aziraphale's offer and to keep up appearances as a demon. Rather than making a deal with (or asking a favor of) an angel, he's 'cheating' him (without the angel's knowledge, but with his consent), which "moves the dials" of evil a bit and would also make Aziraphale appear less at fault if this instance of the Arrangement is ever discovered by Heaven.

This can coexist with Gaiman's statement, above, that it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale that Crowley cheats the toss. THEE ongoing leitmotif of Aziraphale's view of Crowley is that he thinks of Crowley as much more genuinely evil and much less in need of ways to create cover as evil than Crowley actually is.

(Which is interesting, given that he also clearly thinks that Crowley is not as evil as he pretends to be, that he is and wants to do good, and that he deserves to be an angel again. [There is a whoooole nother essay slowly curdling in the churn in my head about how Aziraphale is obliged to practice doublethink and how that stunts his personal development because that's what happens when people aren't free.])

Here's what I mean when I say Aziraphale volunteers.

Does Aziraphale ask in this tone because he is actually feeling suspicious and curt, or because he has to sound suspicious and curt? He could be perfectly willing to do Crowley a favor and would still need to sound the way he does. It's difficult for me to believe this guy--

--or this guy--

--are really all that bothered by the idea that Crowley might want something from him.

Crowley's response sounds like a(n unconvincing) protest of innocence. Maybe it is. But he doesn't disagree with the premise on which Aziraphale based his question, which means Aziraphale now has confirmation: Crowley called the meeting because he wants to ask Aziraphale to do him a favor.

Close your eyes and listen to Sheen's delivery of this line. The way he says it is so soft it's got no judgy angelic sting to it at all. Is this really a prissy answer to Crowley's semi-rhetorical question? Or is Aziraphale using the cover of a prissy answer to ask Crowley, Is what you want related to the no-good you're up to, i.e., demon work?

Either way, Crowley answers:

Is Crowley making a demonic jibe at Aziraphale in return to "You're up to no good," or is he telling Aziraphale, Yes, what I want from you is related to my work, and to your work, esp. what you've got on right now?

Aziraphale volunteers some information about his schedule and what it is he's got on right now.

--he says, and the velvety way Crowley says "Ohhh," tells us--and could tell Aziraphale--that Crowley already knows this. In this coded communication I'm suggesting, Crowley's tone on "Oh" confirms to Aziraphale that the thing he wants help with does indeed have to do with Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh.

So Aziraphale gives Crowley his travel details: Yeah, I have a couple of blessings and a minor miracle to perform. It's going to suck; I have to ride a horse.

Crowley's like, yeah, riding horses does suck. You have my sympathies. (Phrasing it as an insult to God: "Major design flaw if you ask me.") And then he says, I have to go to Edinburgh too this week. Tempt a clan leader into stealing some cattle.

And here's where I think Aziraphale volunteers to do Crowley's Edinburgh job for him:

If, as I propose, Aziraphale understands already at this point that Crowley is asking him to take Crowley's Edinburgh temptation, then this response tells Crowley he's willing to do so.

And then they have a little bit of kayfabe theater and a little bit of miscommunication between themselves. Crowley suggests Aziraphale take Crowley's Edinburgh job. Aziraphale protests "You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer you're implying," even though, as Crowley immediately points, out, they've now done this dozens of times.

Now, obviously Aziraphale is pretending innocence here with "You cannot actually be suggesting," etc. But he's not pretending innocence to Crowley. He can't be: Crowley knows about the dozens of other times just like Aziraphale does. So the protest of innocence is for surveillance; it's the spirit, not the letter, of the protest itself that's genuine: I am reluctant about this.

And Crowley misses it.

He reads the surface layer of the equivocation, the Heavenly pearl-clutching; and the surface layer is where he argues. "We've done it before," he points out. "Dozens of times now. The Arrangement--"

But Aziraphale, visibly frightened and looking around, cuts him off. "Don't say that." Getting caught in an Arrangement would be much, much worse than getting caught in a one-off deal.

Why is this suddenly a problem? says Crowley. You know we've been getting away with this; you know they don't check up.

It's not pearl-clutching at all; Aziraphale is worried for Crowley's safety.

When Crowley says--

--is his tone half wheedling and half impatient because that's how he feels, or because it must sound like that? Is it soft only out of courtesy to the other people in the Globe?

There's no difference to the outcome of this scene or the story as a whole whether this romantic interpretation of the Edinburgh bickering is correct, because we've already got a solid base of evidence that the characters have romantic feelings for each other and show each other affection and care in this scene. In my opinion this interpretation fits the tone of the rest of the Globe scene better than only the face-value interpretation. What Gaiman and Mackinnon say about Crowley cheating the coin toss and Aziraphale not being aware of it can still easily apply.

While these three statements together aren't enough evidence to convict, so to speak, if my initial argument about the interpretation of "Buck up!" and Crowley's reaction is correct--and the cool stuff other people have found and pointed out suggests it is AND explains Crowley's Antony & Cleopatra line--this reading of the Edinburgh bickering is, if not ironclad, at least valid.

And holy shit, people, that makes this scene romantic af from beginning to end. I could not have asked for a better little gift from my fellow humans. 🤯I have such a better understanding of the entire 1601 scene because people from anywhere with an Internet connection sat down and spent their time sharing their ideas, and it just makes the lit-nerd lobe of my brain so happy. I love you all, you romantics and nerds and perverts.

[shawtuzi]

happy friday lovelies!!! here’s a little plug!eren drabble that’s been sitting in the drafts for idek how long it’s kinda inspired by ari fletchers cooking show lmao i love her

cw include: black coded reader, reader is a youtuber, some swearing, nothing too explicit mostly fluff, drug usage (they’re making edibles lol)

“is my hat straight renny?” you asked adjusting the chef hat on your head for the umpteenth time. eren hummed and tilted the hat a little to the left before giving you a grin, “yep it’s straight now hurry up and start this shit.” you rolled your eyes and quickly ran over to the camera to turn it on. today was a very special video because you were finally going to introduce eren to your thousands of followers!!! and what better way to do that than to have him do his favorite thing with you which is baking ofc. you cleared your throat before speaking, “hello my honey bunches welcome back to my channel! you may be wondering why i have this on,” you pointed to the chef hat, “and that’s because today we’re gonna be baking!! but not just any regular ol’ treats…they’re gonna be infused” you sent a sly wink to the camera making eren chuckle.

he couldn’t help but watch in awe as you talked to your viewers with such enthusiasm like you weren’t running on three hours of sleep and a starbucks strawberry lemonade refresher. “today i won’t be baking alone though i have a very special guest joining me,” you grabbed eren gently by the wrist and pulled him into the frame. eren sent a little wave to the camera muttering out a ‘sup’. you turned to him narrowing your eyes when you noticed he was missing a very important part of his outfit, “umm where’s your hat?” eren groaned throwing his head back like a toddler, “please don’t make me wear it it’ll give me hat hair.” you put your hand on your hip and gave eren the look and within seconds he was putting the chefs hat on with a dramatic huff.

you clapped your hands together and gave the camera a warm smile, “now that we have on the proper attire we can get started! today we’re gonna start simple and make some super yummy infused rice krispy treats, eren and i have already made our ‘butter’ and if you would like to know how to make that let me know in the comment section!” eren held up a small container showing the ‘butter’ to the viewers. “look how good this shit looks how could they not wanna know how to make it? make sure y’all comment down below or else,” you shook your head letting out a sigh, “eren please don’t threaten the viewers.”

eren kissed his teeth before setting the container down, “what’s the first step mama?” he asked leaning against the counter. “first things first we’re going to preheat our stove, eren already preheated ours so—” you stopped dead in your tracks when you realized the stove was in fact not hot. you turned to eren who was whistling and looking at the floor, “eren…” you spoke calmly tapping your manicured fingers against the marble counter. “yes?” he asked giving you them damn puppy dog eyes. “why isn’t the stove preheated? i asked you to do it before we started,” eren was prepared to give you the excuse of a lifetime but you stopped him as soon as the words ‘well what had happened was’ left his mouth.

“ah geez okay well while we wait for the stove to get hot let me tell you a little about my co star here. for those of you who are new here or don’t follow me on insta this is my boyfriend eren! we’ve been together about three years and they’ve been the best years of my life it’s never dull moment with him,” you got on the tips of your toes to give eren’s cheek a kiss making him smile. “he usually stays behind the scenes when i do my videos but today volunteered to join me,” eren laughed a little too loud and you turned to him raising an eyebrow. “what’s so damn funny?” you asked cocking your head to the side. eren put his hand on his hip like he’s seen you do so many times before speaking, “if by volunteered you mean being held against my will to do this then i totallyyyy volunteered.” you slapped his chest making him let out a dramatic whine, “i would like to set the record straight that he is not being held against his will please don’t call paw patrol yall he’s fine.”

after a few more minutes of playful banter between the two of you the stove was finally hot enough to begin baking. eren grabbed the camera and focused in on you but not before holding it veryyyy close to your forehead, “are you having fun ren?” you asked and he nodded with a smile on his face. you let out another loud sigh before getting back to the task at hand. “okayyy first thing we’re gonna do is add our ‘butter’ now don’t be stingy with it but also don’t put a whole lot in there unless you wanna be holding onto the ground for dear life,” you put about two scoops of the faux butter into the pot.

“now just let it melt and when it’s all melted we’re gonna add these!” you held up a bag of pink and white marshmallows when you noticed someone had already gotten into them. “boy you’ve got to be kidding me,” eren couldn’t help but giggle at the exasperated look on your face. “i had the munchies don’t be mad there’s still enough,” you grabbed a handful of marshmallows out of the bag and threw them at eren. you muttered out a ‘okay biggums’ to which eren responded by giving your ass a quick smack. “i heard that shit don’t call me biggums,” you waved him off before walking back to the pot of melted butter.

“alrighty now that our ‘butter’ has melted let’s add some marshmallows!” you poured a decent amount into the pot but not before popping a few in your mouth. “oh you can eat some but i can’t?” eren asked zooming the camera in on your face. you kissed your teeth and shook your head, “your greedy ass got into them before we even started the video i don’t wanna hear nun!” eren turned the camera to himself with a the fakest pout you’ve ever seen on his face, “y’all see how she treats me? she might actually hate me.”

“mhm…okay anyways now we’re gonna slowly mix the butter and marshmallows together until completely smooth,” you grabbed a rubber spatula and began mixing the marshmallows and butter together. eren had gotten so wrapped up in watching you mix he didn’t even realize the camera was now pointed at the ground giving your viewers a nice shot of his pink crocs with sanrio gibbits. “um eren” you spoke breaking him out of his trance. “all my viewers are getting is shot of your big ass feet,” eren let out a quiet ‘oh shit’ before pointing the camera back to you. “well it’s too late i’m already done mixing!” you threw your hands up in defeat. eren pointed the camera back to his crocs, “well as long as i got the camera on them y’all can’t tell me these muhfuckas ain’t hard. we need to normalize men liking sanrio!” eren was possibly the worst cameraman in history.

you grabbed the camera pointing it back to you, “anywayssss now let’s add the rice krispies. the most efficient way to do it without spillage is using a measuring cup,” you added three cups of the cereal to the pot. you turned the oven on low before beginning to mix the ingredients together, “eren it’s getting a little hard to mix, you mind taking over?” eren let out a hum before handing you the camera. “this is the most important part you really wanna get that shit mixed in well,” eren said matter of factly. “then when it’s done we’re gonna bring it over here and pour it into this pan,” eren walked over to the glass dish you had already set out and began to slowly scoop the rice krispy treats onto it.

you set the camera back up and quickly scurried to eren’s side, wrapping your arm around his waist. “we’re gonna let these cool for just a few minutes until then why don’t we answer some questions from the subscribers!” you pulled out your phone and opened your notes app, “eren doesn’t know this but i posted on my sorry a while ago and asked you guys to send in some questions for a potential q&a and that potential q&a is happening right now!” eren grabbed the bag of marshmallows and leant against the counter, “ask me anything you want i’m an open book.”

“the first question is: ‘how did you guys meet?’” eren looked at the ceiling in thought before speaking, “i was selling a particular product she was interested in…i thought she was really pretty so i threw in a little extra and the rest was history.” you swooned when you thought of how you met eren for the first time. it’s insane how intimidating he was the first time you met him now he refers to himself an a “sanrio boy”. “next question is: how did you know you liked me?’”

the corners of eren’s mouth lifted up as he thought of his answer. “well we were at a block party one weekend and i was her ‘date’ everything was going fine till i saw some tool tryna cuddle up to her,” you hunched over in laughter remembering the terrified look on the poor guys face when eren approached him. “to make a long story short i beat his ass, did some reflecting on why i did that, and soon enough i made y/n mine and only mine. next question!” eren popped a couple marshmallows in his mouth obviously proud with his answer.

“okay okay last question for right now: ‘what’s one ick you both have towards each other?’” before eren could open his mouth you piped up with a quick ‘me first!’ eren rolled his eyes popping another handful of marshmallows in his mouth. “my ick is how ugly your feet are,” eren nearly choked on the marshmallows when he heard your answer. “excuse me?!” he yelled tossing the marshmallows aside. you pulled your lips into a line looking in the other direction, “baby you know i think you’re the most gorgeous man on the planet….but your feet are hideous they literally make me nauseous.” eren quickly snatched up the camera and was about to kick off his crocs and socks but you took the camera back just as fast setting it back up, “you are not about to scar my viewers no way sir. now go ahead and tell me you’re ick let’s get this shit over with.”

eren huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “i was gonna say i had no ick for you but now that you’ve talked shit on my feet i’m gonna have to say my ick for you is how loud you snore!” you gasped at eren’s words your mouth dropping open. “i do nawt snore,” you growled balling your hands into fists. “yeah yeah whatever you say i’m surprised such a loud obnoxious sound can come from someone so cute and cuddly,” you were about to rebuttal but instead you shook your head and calmly got back to the task at hand.

“now that our rice krispy treats are nice and cool now it’s time for the best part: tasting it!” you grabbed a knife and cut out two pieces for you and eren. eren reached to grab one but you quickly pulled your hand away narrowing your eyes, “take back what you said about my snoring.” eren scoffed and got reallll up in your face you couldn’t believe how much audacity he had! “i’ll take that back as soon as you take back the feet comment” you both stared at each other before eren surprisingly broke first. “fine fine! i take it back just gimme the damn treat,” you have him the rice krispy treat and a nice little kiss on the cheek. “isn’t he just the sweetest guys,” you smiled giving eren another kiss on the cheek.

“let’s bite in synch okay one…two…eren!” you were absolutely dumbfounded when eren had taken a massive bite before you even got to three. “these are good nice job baby,” he said with a mouthful of the delicious treat. you took a bite muttering out a ‘thanks’, they were in fact very delicious. so delicious you both ate another and then split one. “we’re gonna take a quick break and we will report back to you when the treats have done their thing!” you turned off the camera and let out a loud sigh when you realized how much editing you had to do meanwhile eren seemed to be in good spirits.

“i think that went well hm?” he smiled wrapping his arms around your waist, giving your forehead a sweet kiss. “do you know how much editing i’m gonna have to do renny? i hateee editing,” you pouted nuzzling your face into his chest. eren shook his head and cupped your face with his hands, gently stroking your cheeks. “let’s not worry about that right now let’s focus on how fucked up we’re about to be we ate probably more than we should’ve,” he said glancing at the half eaten pan of edibles. “oof you’re right let’s worry about that later.”

about two hours later you and eren had somehow ended up on the living room floor both completely blazed out of your minds. “eren….” you mumbled craning your neck to look at him. “y/n…” he said back turning his head to look at you. you cracked a small smile and suddenly both of you burst into a fit of laughter. “we…we gotta finish the video baby,” you giggled sitting up. eren groaned before sitting up as well but as soon as he got up he stumbled and fell flat on his face, “m’gonna lay here a minute.” you gave eren’s ass a smack before getting up, making your way to the camera.

“well besties as you can see those treats clearly worked,” you said zooming in on your bloodshot eyes. you then turned the camera to eren whose face was still smushed into the carpet, “actually they worked a little too well.” you turned the camera back to yourself letting out a small yawn, “well until then stay tuned for my next video i can’t quite remember what it is right now so i guess it’ll be a surprise when i post! catch y’all on the flip side!” you turned the camera off and tossed it on the counter before collapsing next to eren. “good work sweetums,” you mumbled to which he replied with a muffled ‘you too sexy’.

[moethewriter]

I had this idea for finnick I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing, it’s not very good but I was thinking Finnick comforting the reader (who’s a district 4 victor) after her younger sister who was repeaped for the games doesn’t make it in the games? And it finally causes the reader to break or something?

Don’t worry about it if not, thank you!

It's a great idea! Thank you for requesting anon! Hope you enjoy! - TITLE: Broken Melodies WORD COUNT: 1k PAIRING: Finnick Odair x (Fem Coded) Reader WARNINGS: Angst, brief descriptions of blood and violence TAGS: (LET ME KNOW IF ANYTHING NEEDS TO GO UNDER THERE!) A/N: Had a great time writing this one and loving all the requests everyone has had so far! I'm quite sick, so I do apologise if fics are little bit slower! -

You hadn’t been ready to hear those words from the escort of District Four. You hadn’t been ready to send your younger sister off into the Hunger Games to possibly never come back. The idea that she would be reaped nearly a year after you had never crossed your mind. The fact that you couldn’t volunteer to protect her killed you on the inside. Her face, the way it had dropped, the way she had cried … it was burnt into your memory forever. 

You couldn’t have given up on her, that you knew. You had to fight every step of the way to ensure a win and bring her home. You campaigned to sponsors, did everything Snow asked of you, and you tried to train her as best you could. But she could only do so much, she was fourteen years old. You, as her mentor, tried to comfort her and give her every reassurance possible but nothing was able to prepare her for the true horrors in that arena.

She was a child, she didn’t deserve to be thrown in there and face what you knew she couldn’t win. You had been sixteen, not much older than her at all but … she was your sister … your baby sister and you had failed her. You couldn’t protect her despite everything you sent her way.

Your mother had cried for days once you both left on the train, and you didn’t even have the decency to console her. There had been no time really, they had swept you away in what seemed like minutes. Though in some ways you were grateful, you didn’t want to lie to your mother. You couldn’t lie to her … you knew what your sister was going to face and you didn’t want to break two more hearts that day. 

She was the youngest of the bunch, but she had lasted for a while. She had fought so fucking hard, she had tried to make it back home … but she couldn’t hack it. A boy from District 2 had taken in her in the end, and then later he had died. You had never been a vengeful person but you were grateful he wouldn’t end up being a Victor.

When you saw her go down, all you could do was scream. Finnick dragged you from the room, kicking and screaming and sobbing. He had held you for hours, despite his own tribute still being in the arena. He had wrapped his arms around you, brought you close to him and whispered nothing but love into your ears as you cried. 

You were inconsolable, but you were thankful that he was there for you. 

It had been over a week now, since she died and the games ended. A girl from District 1 had taken the win, and you were still frozen in time. You couldn’t get the image of the axe out of your head, the blood that splattered everywhere. Nothing felt right anymore.  

“Hey.” Finnick whispered, crawling into bed beside you.

You could feel his arms wrap around your waist, a safe comforting gesture from him. Something you had craved so much these days. You needed him, and you needed him to tell you things were going to be okay.

“Hey.” You said, voice hoarse and low. 

“Mags dropped off dinner.” He said, moving to play with your hair. “I know you're probably not hungry, but let’s try to eat something later, okay?” 

His voice was a low rumble, like a small earthquake shattering every thought you’d ever had. The only time you ever smiled now was when you were with Finnick. He was your rock.

“Okay.” You sniffled, feeling like a chastised child. You hadn’t been eating well, far too sick to even try.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” Finnick said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’s not.”

“I didn’t protect her, FInnick.” You mumbled. “I didn’t protect her, I didn’t try hard enough and now she’s gone. She’s gone because I didn’t help the way I was supposed too.” You felt hot tears starting to leak from the corner of your eyes.

“No.” Finnick said, sternly. “You did everything you could. You mentored her the best way you knew how and you loved her every step of the way. She knows how much you tried and how much you did for her. She wouldn’t want you sitting here and blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control. You have always done right by your family, by her and she would hate to see you this way.”

“But she’s gone.” You said, flatly. “She’s gone and she hadn’t even begun to live her life. God this whole fucking system makes me sick.” You wiped your eyes aggressively, trying to control your emotions in some sort of way. 

“She is.” Finnick agreed, trailing his fingertips along the side of your face, making you shiver ever so slightly. “But she’s still all around us, and with us every step of the way. She’s never going to be truly gone. You have your memories of her, and you have everything she’s owned. She’s going to be present for the rest of your life, even if she can’t be here physically.” He told you, humming a soft tune in your ear. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, a small smile gracing your lips.

“There’s nothing you need to thank me for, Y/N. I love you, and I can’t stand seeing you this way. I’m going to be here no matter how long it takes for you to feel like yourself again.” He was stroking your shoulder now. “Even if you look a little different after everything, I’m still going to love you. I’m not leaving your side, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

“Can we look through photos?” You questioned. “While we eat? You didn’t know her well, not as well as me. I’d like to tell you about her.”

“I would love that.” Finnick smiled, leaning in to kiss your head one more time.

You weren’t sure what life was supposed to look like without her in it, but you knew come what may, you had Finnick. Finnick who would never leave your side for anything. Finnick, who would hold you on those dark days.

Finnick Odair, who loved you wholly and truly.

Maybe in some way, life would be okay.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 6

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

“So where are we at with identifying the culprit?” Steve’s voice was tight, even over speakerphone. 

“Jake’s identified the hacker,” Curtis reported. “But we’re still nowhere closer to finding out what they want or who they’re working for.”

“Has anyone tried contacting the hacker,” Bucky asked from the phone.

“If we did that we could alert their boss,” Mace warned. “That could get Ran killed if we’re not careful.”

You were sitting with Jake, listening to the conversation. Curtis had initially not wanted you to partake but you had to present your case to the Bosses, backed up by Jake’s data. You fidgeted nervously, feeling helpless.

“Jake did manage to get a foothold in hacker’s bugs so we can hear anything that they hear,” Curtis continued. “Is there a way you can call him about something? Maybe get a code phrase from him?”

Everyone heard Bucky curse at that, “the idiot never learned them. Insisted he’d never need them.”

“So,” Steve started, “we’ve got a possible hostage situation where Ransom is being watched closely and he was only able to communicate with Teach?”

“That’s actually a good point,” Mace perked up. “Why did he send those to her? To her apartment, specifically? Why wouldn’t he send, or something similar, to someone in the family? Or even to the cybercafe where he knew she worked?”

“Probably because she’s not in the family,” Bucky pondered aloud. “Anything he sent to us, legitimate side of things or not, would be flagged for suspicion. They don’t know she’s connected to us.”

“Then I can go in,” you blurt out. All heads in the room snapped to look at you. Instead of letting yourself be intimidated, you continued, “I…I could go in under the guise of angrily returning his gifts. I’ll wear something he’ll recognize as acknowledgement of his code…something one of his characters would’ve worn.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “There are too many unknowns here.”

“She might be our best bet,” Steve intervened. “Teach, how will you know if your message is getting across?”

“Well, Jake’s only identified audio trackers, right? What if I were able to write a question or something while yelling at him about the gifts? Maybe even write some cards out beforehand to make it easier?” While Mace and Jake nodded acknowledgement and thought about it, you could feel your confidence withering under the intensity of Curtis’s glare. 

“I don’t know what other practical options we have,” Bucky commented.

“NO,” Curtis snarled. “We’re not putting an outsider in danger! She’s not part of the family, she shouldn’t be risking herself like this.” While his words were for everyone else, his eyes never left you. You’d never seen him so worked up before. It gave you an idea as to why his people tended to follow orders over arguing with him. 

“We have audio,” Steve interjected. “She can set up some code phrases or words of her own and let us know what’s going on.” Curtis opened his mouth to say something but Steve cut him off, “and if you try saying no again, Curtis, I’ll leave you out of the planning. Especially if you have no better alternatives.” Curtis clenched his jaw, still glaring at you. Part of you wanted to shy away from him, but you needed to show him you could back up your talk so you stayed firm.

“What are some possible things you could fit into a natural conversation to give us updates,” Mace asked you. 

“Um…well, if I call him “Mr. Drysdale”, like I always did, it’ll mean everything’s okay. If I call him “Ransom”, it’ll mean there’s something wrong but I can’t identify it. If I call him “Hugh”, I’m telling you I’m in danger, please come get me now. Do you think you can work with that?”

Mace nodded and added, “if there are other people there, complain about working for him for so many years, using the number of years to tell us how many there are.” You nod in understanding.

“I’ll call Destroyer to set her up with a car,” Bucky chimed in. “He’ll make sure it has no identifiers that can mark her as suspicious. Be ready to go in thirty, Teach.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, just loud enough to make sure he can hear you. You’re still faltering under Curtis’s silent deathglare. You see him twitch at your words and a bit of pain seeping into his eyes. 

You pull up into the driveway and put the car in park before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Jake, Mace and Hal ran you through a bunch of possible conversation scenarios to help you practice your improv and keep your cool. 

Curtis seemed to withdraw, focusing instead on getting you the items you needed. He gathered all of the gifts from your apartment to put in the car. He also picked up the four-leaf clover earrings and the Celtic-shield-knot talisman you needed to convey, in Ransom’s code, that the message had been received. As much as his stares made you uncomfortable before, as you left you wished he’d at least look at you. 

You take a deep breath, “no going back,” you tell yourself. You step outside the car and grab the gifts before heading inside. You were too stressed to stand and wait after knocking or ringing the bell so you opt to lean into the energy and slam open the door. You stomp towards Ransom’s office where you see him pacing back and forth.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you scold. Ransom’s head snaps to you, he almost seems relieved. 

“Ah, Sweetheart,” he purred, “you got my gifts!” He walks closer to you and you see a piece of paper in his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Drysdale. And I’m here to return them to you. I told you, I’m not going to work for you again.” As you speak you hold out your own pre-written card that asks, “someone’s listening?”

Ransom nods, his body language conflicting with his entreating tone, “oh but Angel, you know how well I treat you! No one makes you come like I do.”

“Mr. Drysdale!” Your eyes flash with irritation but he holds out his hands, placatingly, complete with the note you’d seen earlier.

As you take the note he continues, “come on, Angel. I can pay you more and you can get back to worshiping my cock like you did before. Please! You’ve ruined me for other women with that gorgeous, meaty ass.”

Without thinking you smack him hard across the face, “Mr. Drysdale, you will never speak to me again. If you even think about sending me anything else, I’ll get a restraining order!” You turn around and storm out, the note now in your purse. Ransom takes the opportunity to get some ice on his face, hoping he won’t get yet another bruise.

You return to the car and drive away as fast as you safely can. Your eyes are tearing up so you can’t drive too fast. When you feel you’re a safe distance away, you pull into a parking lot and catch your breath. You open up the note and text a photo of it to Jake. You can barely read it because of the tears that keep falling. You hope it’s a good enough photo before you put the note back in your purse and give yourself a minute to catch your breath.

You’re about to turn the car back on and head back when someone taps on your window. Startled, you turn and see a man with bright blue eyes and a thick mustache smiling at you. You roll down your window just a little so you can hear him.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he leers at you. “What’s a lady like you doing out here by yourself?”

“If you can’t tell me why you’re bothering me, I’m just going to drive off,” you scowled.

“No need for that,” he assures. “I just figured since you told off your boss, you could use a new man to take care of those needs for you. And you are just my type.”

Your eyes widen at his words and you go to start the car. He flashes his gun at you and you freeze up. 

“Careful, there, Pumpkin,” I get that you’ve been through a bad breakup with Ran, but I’ll treat you right. If you behave.”

“Um,” you hesitate, visibly shaking. “Can I…can I text my friends? They’re expecting a message of some kind. I’ll just tell them I’m making up with him so they don’t go looking for me?”

“I get to read the message before you send it.”

“Of course, Mr…”

He smiles, making your stomach churn, “just call me Lloyd, Pumpkin.”

“Yes, Lloyd,” you nod. You grab your phone and type out the message to what you hope is an unrecognizable number, before showing it to him.

“Making up with Hugh,” he reads aloud. “Succinct and efficient. I like your style. Go ahead and send it, then come on out of that car and let me show you a great time.”

You hit send and put the phone in your purse, making sure to carry the purse with you as you step out and he leads you to his own vehicle. 

Part 5 -- Part 7

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would. 

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[munson-blurbs]

i am alrREADY SENDING IN MY REQUEST SO I DONT FORGET AND I NEED THIS

Peanut Butter Cup - Nerds

IM SO EXCITED.

Fake dating/Bookworm!Reader/Steve Harrington

Warnings: fake dating, Harrington familial dysfunction, drunk family members

WC: 1.1k

Divider credit to @saradika

Steve had heard it all from his parents:

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?”

“Just go out on a date, Steven.”

“You spend all damn day at that video store; you’re never gonna meet anyone that way.”

He normally shrugs it off, until his parents give him an ultimatum: get a girlfriend before the annual Harrington Family Reunion in two weeks, or don’t bother showing up at all. 

“Twenty years old, and you barely passed high school, work a dead-end job, and don’t even have a girlfriend,” his father mutters, disgust marring his features. “You’re a disappointment.”

The insult reverberates around his skull all day: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. It’s not the first time his father has hurled the term his way, and it likely won’t be the last, but the impact continues to sting.

It’s still gnawing at him when you walk in the door, sliding a VHS copy of The Shining across the counter with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I know it’s a day late,” you apologize, already digging into your bag for change. “How much is the fee?”

Steve dismisses the notion with a wave. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, already checking the movie back into the system. “You, uh, went to Hawkins High, right?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, zipping up your purse and hitching it back up your shoulder, “class of ‘86.”

“‘85,” he chirps, clearing his throat to temper his enthusiasm. “Anyway, hope the movie was good.”

You nod and smile again; the gentle upturn of your lips has Steve melting. “It was. The book was better, though.”

And that’s when Steve finally places you: back in high school, you volunteered at the school library and, on more than one occasion, had helped him find a book for research projects. You were pretty then, and you’re even prettier now.

“I haven’t read the book,” he admits, embarrassed that he hasn’t read much of anything besides a comic book or two since graduation. 

Your jaw drops. “Well, now you have to!” You grab your car keys from your back pocket. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with my copy, if that’s cool?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘s cool,” he stutters, giving his head a soft shake to shift the hair from his hazel eyes. He watches as you walk out of the store, the sway of your hips drawing him in. 

He probably would have stared forever if Robin hadn’t cut in. “Hey, Dingus, you’re drooling.”

You stop by Family Video the next day to drop off the book. And then a few days after that, you go there again to grab another movie. Soon enough, you’re a regular customer.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Steve blurts out from where he’s standing next to you as you peruse the horror section. “Feel free to say no, to tell me to fuck off, and I will. I will just…fuck right off.”

“Shoot.”

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend at my family reunion next weekend? Nothing weird,” he rushes to add, not wanting to imply any unwanted contact. “Just hand holding, arm around your shoulder…no feels will be copped, I swear.”

You pinch your eyebrows, perplexed. “Is this the trade-off for having my late fee waived?” you tease, thumbing The Exorcist and tugging it from its spot on the shelf. “Because I’ll pay it.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, just tired of hearing my folks complain about me not having my life together. Figured if I showed up with a smart, pretty girl on my arm, they’d shut up for a little while.”

Your face burns at the compliments, both at the words and that King Steve is the one saying them. “What’s the dress code?”

You and Steve arrive in his Beemer, his hand already pressed to the small of your back as you walk into the restaurant. A room filled with Harringtons greet you as you enter the room, and your stomach flips as you wonder if you can pull this off.

“Showtime,” Steve murmurs in your ear, taking you around the room to meet his family. You’re suddenly self-conscious of where your black dress lands on your thighs and the cut of the neckline. Sure, Steve had approved it, but what did he know?

You note that he’s been gazing at you since he’d picked you up earlier, eyes drawn to you like a magnetic force. It’s part of the whole bit, you try and convince yourself, but something nags at you that Steve isn’t that good of an actor.

The conversations go as easily as they can; you spend the evening peppering in “facts” about your relationship that you and Steve had rehearsed over and over. Some of the details were truthful, like meeting at Family Video and bonding over horror movies. Other parts were much more embellished: relationship duration, your first date, the way Steve bragged that you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

It’s smooth sailing until Steve’s inebriated father stands up, clumsily clinking his knife to his wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he slurs, swaying as he speaks, “to my son, Steve, and his girl! Never thought I’d see the day he’d land someone like her.”

Your eyes remain glued to the floor, waiting for the moment to be over, but if the impromptu speech wasn’t awkward enough, one of Steve’s equally drunk uncles calls out, “Give her a kiss, Stevie!”

Steve shakes his head with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Nah, we’re not really into the public–”

“Aw, c’mon!” His boisterous voice echoes throughout the restaurant. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” he chants, and soon enough, most of the family joins in.

“Shall we shut them up?” Steve mumbles, turning to you. “Y’don’t have to…”

“N-No, we can.” It’s not the most conventional first kiss, but then again, nothing about this arrangement is normal. “We can just…”

Steve’s hand is on your cheek, nose nudging against yours as your lips press together. This isn’t a simple peck; no, it’s far more involved, more intimate, than you had anticipated.

You melt into him a bit more, resting your own hand on his bicep until the kiss comes to an end. The men hoot and holler; the women exchange awws.

“Now that,” Steve’s dad guffaws, clapping a hand on his son’s back, “is the kiss of true love!”

You manage a small smile, wondering exactly what just happened. The kiss was the best of your life, and it was supposedly just for show.

Steve’s breath tickles your earlobe as he whispers, “he may be drunk, but he’s not wrong.” His cheeks are pink at the admission.

It’s certainly a conversation you’ll need to have later, but you can’t say you disagree. For now, your fingers intertwine with his, and you give them a quick squeeze. 

Maybe it’s the wine, but you swear you love him back.

--

[aaliyg]

Teach Me

Word Count: 2.6K

Prompt: One Night Stands

Warnings: shurixblack!fem!reader, bartender!shuri, car masturbation, couch sex, vibranium strap, oral sex, fingering, squirting, cursing, drinking, overstimulation, praise kink, voice kink, begging, mommy kink, dirty talk, pet names, multiple orgasms

Dialogue Color Code: Shuri, Reader

enjoy ♡

Now who sent you to go out to the club tonight?

Oh right, your friends did. You sighed in exasperation to yourself as you glanced at the crowd, watching your friends whine up on anyone who was willing to catch it. The red cup of Hennesy in your hand had been emptied long ago, but the effects had barely kicked in yet. Though you were never against parties, this one in particular was…packed to say the least. You looked at the pool outside of the room, biting your lip in thought. Having made your decision, you glided your way through the crowd, and let the most sober out of your friends know where you would be. 

Getting to the deck proved to be harder than anticipated, but you finally situated yourself on one of the lawn chairs scattered around the body of water. It seemed that no one was interested in the deck at all, so you had the whole space to yourself. To your surprise, there was a separate bar by the pool as well, and the bartender there wasn’t so bad on the eyes either. You sat on one of the stools, causing the bartender to look up at you, waiting for your drink request. 

“What would you like to have tonight ma’am?”

Your eyes widened at her thick accent, but you quickly got yourself together so that you could answer her question.

“Can I have a Gin and Tonic?”

“Are you ordering that to make my life easier?”

You chuckled softly at her question and shook your head.

“Nah, I just wanted something that was cheap.”

The bartender blinked slowly at you as she cleaned a glass.

“Well, I could make something for you. On the house.”

The way your eyes widened must have been ridiculous as you quickly shook your head.

“No, no it’s alright. Don’t you have to make money for these people anyway?”

“I volunteered my services to them, so any money I make goes directly to me. Now I’m going to ask you again…”

She leaned closer to you, forcing you to inhale her scent.

“Can I make you a drink, beautiful?”

You looked her in the eye, shocked at her boldness.

“Well- I- um…”

“You..?”

She raised her eyebrow at you with a small smile on her face, waiting for an answer.

“Alright, alright. Go ahead and make something for me.”

“Anything in particular that you’d like gorgeous?”

“Surprise me.”

She beamed with pride, swiftly grabbed a tall glass, and got to work. You felt like you had become hypnotized by the way her slender hands moved around the bottles, and within seconds, you clapped your hands delightfully as she slid over her finished product.

“It might be a bit strong but…”

Her eyes watched you warily as you sipped the drink, but her worries melted away when your brows shot up in surprise. 

“This has to be like the best drink I’ve ever had in my life!”

“I’m glad you like it, then.”

“There is no way in hell you made this on the spot. You don’t got a recipe back there right?”

She smiled sheepishly at your praise and looked at the glasses that were situated at the bottom of her bar.

“Honestly, I should’ve written it down, huh?”

You nodded as you took another sip of the drink and grinned at her. A surge of boldness took you over as you placed the drink down, and now you wanted to see where this encounter could lead to.

“Pretty girls who make drinks like this shouldn’t go without a name you know.”

Now it was your turn to lean into her space. You could practically see the lust cloud her eyes, making them even darker than they already were before. She hummed in response to your shift in behavior, her eyes raking all over your upper body.

“Only good girls who behave get to have my name, princess.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to teach me how to behave then.”

Hooded eyes met yours as you smirked at her, waiting for her rebuttal. She quickly glanced at the living room inside the house, which was slowly filtering out people by the minute.

“The party seems to be dying out. Why don’t I take you back to my place? I can give you a few lessons.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her, genuinely surprised at how fast everything was going. Your intrusive thoughts took over before you could think, and you nodded your head eagerly.

“I need verbal confirmation, sweetheart.”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl. Follow me.”

You both gathered your belongings and made your way to the parking area outside the house. To be honest, you didn’t know what to expect, but a silver Tesla was definitely not on your list. You watched in awe as she calmly opened the passenger door for you and quickly took her own seat after you had settled in. After about twenty minutes, you two were cruising on the highway, enjoying the empty roads that came with the late-night drive.

You shuddered gently when her fingers brushed against your thigh, and the coldness of her rings were definitely adding to the goosebumps that were covering you. 

“Mind giving me a show for the road baby?”

“What kind of show would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

You bit your lip in thought and smirked softly when an idea popped into your head. Without a word, you shifted around in the seat so that your legs were facing her, and you slowly parted them open. The look on her face was utterly priceless as she realized what was going on.

“Do you go commando for every party you attend, or am I just really lucky?”

You slid your dress further up your hips, fully exposing your core to the chilly air. It felt as if her eyes were practically burning into you as you rubbed your clit slowly.

“Eyes on the road, beautiful.”

She glared at you softly but paid attention to what was ahead of her. The way you were moaning was more than enough to satisfy her.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Oh? So I can’t look but I can instruct you?”

“You said you’d give me some lessons right? Make this lesson number one.”

“...Keep rubbing your clit until I say otherwise.”

You leaned your head against the window, spread your legs wider, and rubbed at your clit slowly, whining softly from the pleasure. 

“That’s a good girl.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you continued to play with yourself. Small bits of pleasure shot up your spine as your orgasm slowly built itself up. Your fingers sped up a bit, and you began to roll your hips with them, eager to cum all over the front of the car. It felt as if all the oxygen in your lungs had disappeared, as you found yourself gasping for air from how good your pussy felt.

“Fuck, baby girl. You gonna cum already?”

“Hnn… Oh fuck- mhm…”

“Go on, let that shit out baby.”

You groaned loudly as your release hit you dead on, and you swore that you saw stars for a second. Something about her voice being directed at you in such a way made you feel like goo. Your legs trembled as you came down from your high, and you sighed softly as your pussy drooled out the last of your climax onto the seat. 

“You alright baby?”

“Yeah, I just…wow…”

She chuckled softly at your response and parked the car in the garage of her home. 

She gently scooped you up, carried you inside, and placed you on one of her armchairs in her living room. You looked at her sheepishly as she placed your legs on the arms of the chair and knelt down to be eye-level with your cunt. She dragged her index finger across your folds, causing you to hiss softly from how sensitive you still were.

“I got you beautiful. Don’t worry.”

Your breath hitched when her tongue pressed flat against your hole, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure and moan as she ate you out. 

“Oh shitt mami!”

You could feel her smirk as she paid attention to your swollen clit, alternating between sucking on it and flicking her tongue against it. Your thighs began to shake once again, and you scrambled forward to grip at her hair, effectively drowning her when you came on her face.

“Fuck-! Ohh SHIT YES FUCKK!”

Eventually, you let her hair go so that she could come up for air. She looked so smug with herself, eyes blown out in pure lust as she licked away the rest of your release that was flowing down her chin.

“You didn’t tell me you could cum like that princess.”

You panted softly as you looked at her, feeling lucky that you met someone this…talented.

“I didn’t know I could until tonight.”

“Let’s see what else you can do, then.”

She reached her hand out to you, which you took gratefully. Your gratefulness quickly turned into confusion when you realized that you two were not moving anywhere.

"Uh. Are you waiting for something orr?"

"No, just admiring you…"

She bit her lip in thought, and you could practically see the light bulb go off in her head when she figured out what to do next. 

"Take off the dress and squat in front of the chair baby girl."

That sentence alone caused you to buzz with excitement as you peeled off the rest of your clothes and did as you were told. You looked up at her, trying to keep an innocent face on your features.

"Like this mami?"

"Exactly like that beautiful."

You watched in anticipation as she knelt next to you and slowly dragged her hand down to your cunt.

"I want you to look at me while I play with this pussy. You think you can do that for me sweetie?"

You rolled your hips impatiently, wanting her to continue what she was doing, but her hand moved out of the way just in time.

"C'mon baby. Look at me so we can continue."

You gulped and shifted your head to the left, looking at her in the eyes.

"Please play with my pussy mami… Need it so badly."

Her fingers traced along your folds, making sure to get them covered in your juices before two of them slid into your heat. They both curled up inside of you, which made your eyes water from how full you felt.

"That's a good girl. Fucking leaking all over my fingers. You like the way my fingers feel inside you beautiful?"

At this point, your vision had been blurred out from the tears gathering around your eyes, but you made sure to keep them on the woman next to you. You let out a strangled cry when her fingers began to fuck you, and she watched in awe at the way you took her in and drenched her in slick. She wasted no time in speeding up her hand and grabbing your chin to look at her. She looked at your face and chuckled softly, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. A stark contrast to the way she was beating up your pussy.

"Look at you. You look absolutely exquisite taking my fingers like this. It's like you were made for them. Aw, are you gonna cum again? Come on, be a good girl and cum for me."

That damn accent was going to be the death of you, you thought, as you squirted against her fingers. You moaned loudly as she pulled them out and began rubbing at your clit again.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK it's too muchh!"

"One more for me, beautiful, then I'll give you a break, mkay?"

You nodded and groaned loudly when another orgasm washed over you, and you watched her as your pussy leaked gently onto the floor. She brought her fingers up to your lips, and you licked them clean without hesitation. She gently led you over to the couch and sat you on her lap so that she could give you kisses along your face and neck. Her hands gently rubbed circles on your thighs and hips, which helped you to come down from your high.

"I'm gonna get something from my room really quick okay?"

"Alright, no problem."

She placed you on the couch and swiftly made her way upstairs to get what she needed. This gave you more time to look around the room and really take in how beautiful her home was. You took special note of the two pillars supporting the archway that were carved to perfection. They looked like they had been pulled straight from the Renaissance era, and you wouldn't put it past her if that was the case. Eventually, she came back down with her hands behind her back, mischief written all over her face. You quirked an eyebrow at her suspiciously, which she responded to by smirking at you.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth please."

"And if I don't?"

"Then we'll just be stuck here, and that'll get awkward."

You giggled and did what she said, your confusion rising even more when something was placed on your tongue. You let your tongue trace along the object, trying to figure out what it was. Above you, you could hear her breathing become more punched out as if what you were doing to the object was affecting her too. 

"Keep your eyes closed and lean back on the couch baby."

You laid down and gasped in surprise when she gently lifted your leg on her shoulder, pulled you towards her hips, and pressed the object against your clit. 

"May I open my eyes now ma-MI!"

You scrambled for something to hold onto when she slid the object inside of you, whining when her thumb swiped against your clit.

"There you go, baby. Look so pretty taking my dick like this.” 

She kissed your calf and rubbed your thigh gently, grinning at how blissed you looked right now.

“You can open your eyes now."

You peeked your eyes open, and you were graced with the sight of her hooded eyes looking at where you two met. You sighed softly as her hips rolled, allowing the strap to sink deeper inside of you.

"Oh God- fuckk yes right there..!"

Your back arched involuntarily when it hit your spot dead on, causing a short stream of arousal to shoot out of you as the object slid out a bit.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me."

She sped up her thrusts a bit, keeping a steady pace that had your mind blank out from the feeling of it all. You pushed your head into the sofa to muffle your sounds while your hand went to grip hers.

“Fuck you’re gettin' all sloppy for me now. So fucking good princess. So fucking good.”

She sped up her movements, causing both of you to moan loudly. After placing your leg down, she pressed herself against the front of your body, locking you into a mating press. You looked into her eyes when she grasped your face in both of her hands, your moans becoming intertwined with each other.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh fuckk!”

“Fuck baby me too- Ohh shit…”

She rested her head on your chest as you both rode out your orgasms. After a few minutes, she gently pulled out and rested against your chest again.

“Shuri.”

“Hm?”

“I said that only good girls get my name didn’t I?”

Your eyebrows rose in realization, and you giggled softly.

“I was taught well, then.”

She chuckled and kissed you gently.

“I think you’re just a really good learner princess.”

honestly this may be one of my favorites so far

++NEXT++

well then-

i hope yall were well-fed ♡

[deliciousangelfestival]

Switched Sides - End || Lloyd Hansen

Character: Lloyd Hansen x former Hitman!FemaleReader

Summary: Y/N L/N quit her job as a hitman to take care of her nephew after her stepbrother died. It’s been a year since she became a good aunt to her nephews, and she wants to keep it that way. But her quiet life got disturbed when her former boss asked for her help.

Warning: Nothing.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Last Chapter.

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

In the warm sunlight with the birds chirping in the peaceful morning. Inside the bedroom, there are two people on the bed. They were still sleeping since they were exhausted from last night's activity. 

Lloyd woke up first while you were still lying beside him. It’s rare. If this happened a year ago, you wouldn’t still be here. You would leave in a second after you use his body. It never crossed your mind about relationships since you prefer to be alone. 

That’s why he still didn’t believe you could be a parent.

You're the most daredevil person he has ever known. You're not afraid of death.

If there's a reaper in front of you, you probably asked the angel of death, "What took you so long?"

That's why you're the deadliest hitman at the agency. The code name Antarctica fits you. When you were on a mission, your expression never changed. You are cold and deadly. You're not afraid of anything since you have nothing to lose. When you left, everyone felt the differences. Even the head of the agency was regretful for letting you go. 

This is the reason why he approached you. The agency wants you to come back. 

Lloyd thought it would be easy, but when he saw you, Mark, and Kendall together, he realized it would be difficult. 

He sighed heavily, his hand gently stroking your back, and then he kissed your forehead. "Do you like your nephew that much?"

After he said those words, you suddenly open your eyelid and look at him. Lloyd swore he almost got a heart attack. 

“Yes, I do.”

You would go crazy if something ever happened to them. 

Because you realize your nephew is the reflection of your brother. Every little thing that Mark and Kendall do it's the same as your brother. The way they sleep, eat and get angry. 

You didn't realize you missed your brother that much until the last time you saw him lifeless inside the casket. The little brother who always followed you around never complained when you could only give him a boiled pumpkin for lunch and dinner. 

Back then, both of you were poor, and you worked on child labor at the farm. The farm owner always gave you any vegetable before it turned rotten. The only veggies that could fulfill your hunger were pumpkin. And the habits stayed. One time on the mission, you and Lloyd were hiding in the safe house. The location was the city's outskirts, and it was near the farm. Living near the farm brings you back. You didn’t realize you ate a lot of pumpkins until Lloyd pointed that out. 

You and your brother didn't have a good childhood. Since you can't return the time, you want to give Mark and Kendall the best childhood. 

"I've been living my life like a walking corpse. It doesn't matter to me if today or tomorrow will be my last day."

Being a hitman, you need to kill your feelings and emotions. 

But you regained both when you saw Mark and Kendall at your brother's funeral. The way Mark protects his baby brother is the same as when you were kids. Suddenly, you remembered when you and your brother could only be silent when the parents were fighting and arguing. 

You don't want that memory to happen again. 

That's why you volunteered to be the guardian for Mark and Kendall. You want to provide them with the best childhood. 

"I do love them. They're the reason why I want to wake up and live every day."

When Lloyd heard that, it confirmed his guess. You’re not coming back. He wants to say he doesn’t like it, but you’ve made your choice.

He lifted the blanket and then stood up from the bed. "Let's go. Bruno had left me hundreds of messages."

You were taken aback seeing him being disappointed. It seems like you made a mistake. But you don't know why. 

Both of you walk together to your apartment. When you arrived at the building, Lloyd whispered to your ears, "The stalker has been following us. I'll get him."

You didn't feel threatened. "Don't do anything. Meet me at the park once you get him."

Lloyd nodded and left. 

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Bruno opened the door. Heartbreak crossed his arms. "You're late."

You shrugged your shoulders. "We got a surprise attack last night."

"Bullshit. You spend the night with him." 

You scoffed and headed into the room. You saw your nephew drawing on the kid's table. 

"I hope they're not trouble you."

"They're good kids."

Mark and Kendall were used to babysitting. Their father works as a detective and always goes home late at night. 

"Where's Lloyd? I thought you came here together."

You got closer to Bruno and whispered, "He noticed I have a stalker, so he went to catch him."

"Oh. We noticed that." 

You raised your eyebrows. "We?"

Bruno clicked his tongue. The secret finally got out. He went to the coffee machine to make coffee. "Well the reason why we came here is to bring you back to the agency."

He poured the coffee into the glass. "I'm not supposed to say this, but he missed you."

"Lloyd?"

"Well, both of you are the best duo and could finish a difficult mission in a short time without being stabbed or getting shots. Since you left, he chose to work alone."

'Ring.'

A phone call from Lloyd: "I've found him. It's just a kid."

"A kid?" You thought you heard wrong. You immediately ran to the park.

When you arrived, you saw Lloyd sitting on the bench while the other person kneeled. 

Lloyd noticed you. "I think you should talk to him."

You looked at the kid who was wearing an oversized hoodie. No wonder why you don't feel threatened. He's just a teenager. 

You got closer and leaned down "Why did you follow me?"

The teenager lifted his face to look at you. "I want to apologize to you and the kids."

"Me? Why?"

"It's because of me the detective got exposed with the drugs and he lost his life. I'm so sorry." He bowed his head to the ground. 

You have learned about your brother's death. He was investigating the drug case, and he met the drug addict. When he went to one location, he was exposed to fentanyl and inhaled it. He got overdosed, and the help arrived late. 

The teenage sobbing, "I got sent to rehabilitation, and when I got out, I wanted to apologize, but I'm too scared to face you. It's because of me the kids lost their father. 

When you hear his explanation, you want to punch him. But you can't do it. Your brother would be disappointed. The reason why he joined law enforcement is to help people. 

You squared down at the same level as him. "Stop feeling guilty. At least you apologize and admit your mistakes. You have stopped doing drugs, too. My brother would be proud of your effort."

After you said those words, you could see the teenage face brighten up a bit. Seems like your words ease his burden. He is still young and has much time to fix his life. 

You share an encouragement to the teenager before you and Lloyd go back to the apartment. 

While walking together, he grabbed your hand. "That was disappointing. I was expecting you to gage his eyes out and pull his finger nails."

You giggled. "If I were still a hitman, I would do it. But now, I must be a good role model for my nephew."

Lloyd hummed and kept walking. 

You notice him sulking; he could be childish sometimes. "I'm sorry, Lloyd. I'm going to stay."

Lloy stopped his foot."I understand."

You were silent until you said, "But I will be here for you, and they like you."

Lloyd stopped again. But this time, he looks at you with a smile. "Don't use them to get me."

"Mister Hansen!"

Lloyd heard the familiar voice. He looked up front and saw Mark running towards you while Bruno carried Kendall. 

With his little leg, Mark runs faster than he holds Lloyd's legs. 

Lloyd looked at you and sighed. "I'll come and visit when I have the time."

5 years later. 

"Left, right, left, right."

"More passion, more energy."

Three males are running together. They're jogging at the same pace. 

Lloyd in the middle, Mark on his right, and Kendall on his left. This jogging is for Kendall. He's joining the marathon for this year. 

His cancer treatment went well, and his body accepted all the medicine. He became cancer-free when he was five years old. 

"Always keep your pace, and be confident at the race Kendall."

Kendall looked up and nodded. "Okay, Dad."

Lloyd hummed happily when he heard that. It never occurred to him would be called by that name.

It happened after he put the ring on your finger. After three years, he decided to retire from being a hitman and join you. 

The four of you became a complete family. It's quick for Kendall to call Lloyd as dad, but Mark doesn't. He still calls him uncle or mister. But if he mentioned Lloyd with his friends or teacher, he would "I will ask my dad first."

After the training, three of them go home. When they opened the door, a delicious aroma filled their nose. 

They saw a variety of food plates on the dining table. 

Lloyd is always greeted with this warm picture after he marries you. 

You were putting a spoon of sugar into the pot when you saw them, "You guys got back early."

Mark unties his shoelace. "The sky darkened, and it's going to start raining. Mister Hansen doesn't want mud on his shoes."

Lloyd shook his head; he ruffled Mark's hair. "You and your brother go take a shower before eating."

"Okay." Both of them answered together and ran to their room.

After the kids were gone, Lloyd joined you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You felt his mischievous gaze before he kissed you. 

You never thought you could have this life before you didn't want anything. This was before you met your brother again, and Lloyd suddenly appeared by helicopter. 

The moment they appear, your dull life turns to bright. You weren't prepared, but with them, you could do anything. The world is yours, and you're not alone in it. It's a gift, a blessing, the best gift of all. And it's yours to keep.

-The End-

Thank you so much for reading and following the series. I know the ending seems rushed, it's because I have no more idea how to continue the story.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Last Chapter.

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

Taglist:

@sabrinaselina55, @magnificentsaladllama , @cherrybubblebullet @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters , @bagoffeelings @darkofimagination, @starsofcloud, @thatzolagirl, @distancedss, @mswgtsd @chibijusstuff

[catsushinyakajima]

I’m sitting by a trash can at the bus stop waiting for the bus for the past TWENTY minutes and I am also late to class (my own fault for going to the gym instead of heading to class early :/) SO ANYWAYS-

Voltron headcanons (realistic and college AU, also inspired by my own college misery):

- they’re all stem nerds. All of them. I know a lot of people HC them as liberal arts major which is great! but they are canonically astronauts (one part of canon that I like)

- Lance would be the kind of guy to be like “WE GOTTA HIT THE GYM EVERYDAY THIS SEMESTER RAHHHH” and then dip the second midterms start. Every single semester. Without fail.

- Keith found lectures useless since he could just “read the textbook”. He never showed up to a single class except for exams and somehow passed. He only stopped the habit when multiple friends scolded him for it.

- Coran would be in twenty different clubs. Correction: he would be PRESIDENT of twenty different clubs. No one knows when he joined them. The clubs range from archery to competitive coding to mental health awareness. (“Hey Coran are u free tonight?” “No sorry, the Roleplaying Ancient Romans club is having a bake sale tonight” “the what-)

- hunk would do a LOT of volunteering. He’s probably cook for shelters but I can also see him tutoring underprivileged kids in engineering :)

- Pidge would have a surprising amount of school spirit. Not bc she likes the college or the sport. She just wants to hate on the other teams. Also if her tuition is going to the football coach’s salary, she might as well be passionate about it.

- Allura is a triple major. Maybe even a quadruple major?? She’s the girl you see constantly stressing about their schedule. “Okay so should I take this class…that makes me have eight classes total all back to back” “WHAT” “what if I did a minor in psychology?” “Allura how tf are you going to fit that in there”

- Shiro is a TA (teaching assistant) for calculus or physics or something. Because the world hates him it’s an eight am class where the professor teaches wrong content and then dumps twenty hours of grading on him. “So you find the derivative under the curve” “Professor that’s not-“ You will never see him without a coffee.

- Hunk has beef with the Dining halls. They don’t season their food and they don’t even have much to begin with. On the other hand, Lance practically lives there. He’s making the most of the meal plans he paid for.

- At least he sticks to tastier things. Keith, who also practically lives at the dining hall, will eat salt and pepper chicken four times a day (“it’s protein”)

- it’s how Keith and Lance have had most of their meals together. Notably, also alone.

- aside from living at the dining hall, Keith also lives at the gym. This explains why he’s never at class.

- pidge has a car on campus. It’s Matt’s car or whatever. Not only can she not park for her life, she also can’t stop getting parking tickets. She uses the tickets as wall decor for her dorm.

- Lance skateboards. He’s pretty good at it. He’s only fallen twice, and both times had been in extremely public settings. Once was in front of a bus stop with fifty people. He tried teaching Coran how to skate and Coran accidentally slipped and launched the board towards the main road.

- Pidge plays clash royale in class. Shiro roasts her for it but then secretly also plays word games in class

- on top of having four majors, Allura also has four internships??? Everytime she posts about something that seems relaxing, it’s misleading. She’ll post herself getting drinks and SIKE it’s a networking event. She’ll be going hiking SIKE it’s a colleague bonding trip. Girl cannot take a break.

- Keith hates frats. Even educational ones with job opportunities. Even if he knows all frat boys aren’t shitty, he refuses to budge on his stance

- Shiro is the kind of guy you’d be talking to and ten people come up to him to say hi. Everyone knows him. Even if he doesn’t know them.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Defeat

Words: 987

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It had been a bad moon on Saturday night. So bad that it was Monday morning and Remus was still in the hospital wing. Had he sulked a little when Madam Pomfrey told him he needed to stay Sunday night? Perhaps. Was he proud of it? Well, that was neither here nor there. Because it was Monday morning and he had Transfiguration.

“Minerva, will you talk some sense into him please?” He heard from behind the curtains before Professor McGonagall swept through them.

“Mr Lupin.” She nodded curtly.

“Professor McGonagall.” Her demeanour softened slightly.

“I hear that you want to go to class today. Is that correct?” Remus nodded, “And you recognise as well as Poppy and I do that you are in no fit state to do so?”

Remus frowned, “I can manage.”

“Mr Lupin.”

“Yes, I should probably be resting.” He did his best not to roll his eyes, reluctantly admitting defeat.

“I’m here to excuse you from classes for today, and to let you know that Mr— that Sirius has offered to take notes for you.” She looked at him with a new sparkle in her eyes, “I’m not sure how you have managed to convince him to undertake extra schoolwork, but… well done.”

Remus was so confused, “Thank you, Professor?”

“You should be able to head back to your dormitory mid-morning, and resume classes tomorrow. Make sure you rest well.” She turned and vanished through the curtains. He sighed and picked up the book Sirius had left beside his bed last night.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius had never cared about taking notes. Not even when they’d had that hot Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in fourth year. He wasn’t totally sure why he’d volunteered. McGonagall hadn’t even asked him. He’d offered. Actually, he did know why. He just didn’t really want to think about the implications.

So Sirius was going to take the best damn notes of his academic career, and he was going to colour code them, and if Remus just happened to appreciate them so much that he realised that he was madly in love with Sirius, then wouldn’t that be a lovely bonus?

James stared at him, “Why do you have four quills?”

“One for each colour.” He wrote the date at the top of the parchment.

“I’ll rephrase.” James sighed, “Are you ill?”

“No,” Sirius said in a hushed voice, “I’m taking notes for Moony, so shut up.”

James, who had been the victim of Sirius’ increasingly lovelorn monologues lately didn’t need to ask any further questions. He nodded and began writing on his own parchment.

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At the end of the day, Sirius’ hand ached. His right hand and wrist were covered in ink and he wasn’t convinced that the notes were any good, if he was honest. They were a lot messier than Remus’ were and had considerably more annotations and doodles. But, he reasoned, it was better to have slightly inadequate, doodly notes than no notes.

Remus was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for them to go down to dinner. He still looked pale and Sirius had a good mind to march him back to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey to bloody well do her job. But then Remus smiled at him, and he forgot why he was angry.

Sirius dropped his bag on his bed, fished out multiple pieces of parchment and proudly presented them to Remus. He looked down at them, and Sirius saw his eyes get wider the more he read.

“Pads, you really didn’t have to.” He said quietly. “Thank you.”

Sirius suddenly felt very exposed, “You’re welcome? Sorry they’re not as neat as yours would be but—”

“They’re perfect.” Remus cut him off, “The doodles really make…”

Sirius looked over to see what had Remus’ brow all cute and furrowed. Oh. Well, doodling hearts all over the Divination notes was maybe a little much, but it was the last class of the day, and he was tired, and in his defence, everything that he ‘saw’ during the lesson pointed to love… stuff. Maybe Remus would believe that if he was convincing enough and oh shit Remus had asked him a question and Sirius had caught none of it.

“Uh, sorry, I zoned out.” He felt his cheeks heating up. “What did you say?”

“I said you seemed to have a particularly amorous Divination lesson.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, seemed to be.” He looked down at the page, Oh that was a lot of hearts. “The fates don’t lie?”

“Riiight.” Remus looked at him suspiciously. “McGonagall seemed very concerned that you volunteered to actually do work.”

“I can imagine that would be a surprise for her.”

“Not just her.” Remus tilted his head as he looked up at Sirius. “You don’t even take your own notes.”

“I knew you’d be pissed off that you were missing precious learning time.” Sirius shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. “Thought I’d try and help.”

Remus was studying him in a way which made Sirius’ heart speed up significantly, “Well… I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Sirius gave him a small nod. “Anything, Moons.”

Remus set the parchment down on his bed and started to stand up, causing multiple concerning clicks, pops and crunches from his joints. Sirius was by his side in a moment and they were so close now. He allowed himself to just look at Remus, the deep green eyes, the scar that traversed his lower lip and jaw and if he just leaned in he could— And then his eyes flicked back up to Remus’. They were fixed on his.

Of course, James chose that moment to crash into the dorm, grumbling about Slughorn.

“Get out,” Remus said.

“What’s— Are you—”

“James, get out!” He didn’t take his eyes off Sirius as James threw his bag towards his bed and huffed out of the room.

[i-mean-y-not]

TOUCH

Touch A/N: This is the follow up to All This Time, it makes more sense if you read it first, but you don’t have to. If you’d like to request drabbles for this story that would be cool lol. As always, if you’d like more content feel free to send me an ask or message.

Happy Reading!

Sooo maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. And that’s saying a lot, seeing as you were in multiple clubs in high school and college, volunteered at a different animal shelter every weekend, and still managed to snag a decent shag when you were in the mood. Life had been somewhat of a shit show lately, though. Your romantic life becoming almost nonexistent. Jess was the reason you’d smiled at all anymore, and Gojo, the man you’d thought you hated up until 10 minutes ago hadn’t made anything easier.

But this? After Jess clued you in two years ago, you’d thought the supposed “attraction” Gojo felt was nonexistent. But now here you were in the front seat of Gojo’s new sleek black car, an Audi maybe? Shit, who cares? You think to yourself as you start to nervously bite your lip.

What are you thinking?

Sleeping with Gojo of all people? The Gojo that fucked literally everything that batted an eyelash at him? You’re snapped out of your thoughts by him placing a comforting hand on your thigh and caressing it with his thumb, his left hand remaining on the steering wheel.

You shiver and stare out the window, refusing to acknowledge him.

Gojo’s soft, “hey” only serving to make more nervous as you couple your lip biting with the bouncing of your leg.

“Y/N, you know we don’t have to do this. I can just take you back home. Maybe--” you clench your legs together in trepidation and shake your head before words tumble out of your mouth.

“Is that all you want, Gojo? I mean if we’re just going to do it… that’s fine. I just don’t want to get fucked over after you fuck me... ha, that was funny right?” You say, a wince immediately making its way into your face. Gojo slows to red light and proceeds to tilt your face towards him.

“What? Where’s all this coming from?” he says as he coaxes your bottom lip from your teeth. “Talk to me, please?” His gaze remains sharp on you as you clear your throat.

Just as you open your mouth the light turns green and you whisper, “Green light”.

Gojo sighs and starts to move the car and states plainly, “We’re going to my place, okay?” You start to shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. What the fuck is wrong with you? Here you were possibly about to get dug out by one of the finest men on the planet and you’re messing it up.

“We’re going to my place and I’m going to make you some tea. And we’re going to talk and if you allow it, I’m going to fuck you and it’ll be the best you’ve ever had. I’ll have you feeling it for days and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum. Maybe I’ll cum inside you and make you keep it there until work tomorrow, hmm? So, your friend, what’s her name …Jackie? So, she’ll know. So Kento will know, so everyone in that fucking office will know that you’re mine”.

By the time Gojo is finished with his monologue, you’re a panting mess in your seat, eyes closed and hand clenching and unclenching.

“Y-Yeah we can go to your place to talk Gojo, just to talk.” You gulp and once again stare out of the window. You hear his slight chuckle as he takes a right at the next green light and the subsequent left before he pulls into his parking garage.

He parks and gets out with all the grace of a swan and opens your door to help you onto your wobbly knees. He holds your hand as you walk towards the elevator and when he presses the button for the twentieth floor. Its not until the elevator panel asks him for a code that you realize, this asshole lives in a penthouse. You mentally scoff and chuckle to yourself, modest much?

You’re snapped out of your reverie by Gojo grabbing your hand and ushering you in his lavish apartment. Okay, so your apartment was pretty-- fancy at best--but Gojo’s apartment was beautiful. With floor to ceiling windows and a grey and chrome theme, it screamed playboy.

“Would you like sugar or honey in your tea?” Gojo asks as he motions for you to sit at his kitchen table while he makes the tea. Once he’s finished, he brings both the sugar and the honey to the table for you to decide as he takes a seat himself. He reaches to pour your tea and looks at you, head titled.

“I’m just going to assume its honey,” he sighs as he pours the tea adding a squirt of honey.

When he looks at you, you turn away from him and mentally berate yourself. Then the panic ensues. But as you try to get up from the chair Gojo, gently as ever sits you back down.

“What’s wrong? C’mon look at me, Y/N?” He says in perhaps the softest voice you’ve heard.

“I just- Gojo I mean, what would you think if you were me? Do you know how many times I’ve heard people that we work with brag about your dick? I’ve heard a lot, frankly more than I’d ever want to hear about a dick I’ve never personally seen. I mean apparently it’s a beautiful dick, apparently there’s a mole on the underside of it and-” You immediately stop when you see Gojo’s face a distraught red.

Gojo honestly doesn’t know whether to laugh or pull out his “beautiful dick” and show you.

He simply observes you for a second and finally says, “I know you’re thinking I want you because I haven’t had you, but that isn’t the case. The first day I met you, the day I unceremoniously spilled coffee on you, do you know what I thought to myself?”

He waits until you nod your head before continuing, “I didn’t picture fucking you, waiting until you woke up after your third orgasm and telling you to get out. I just honestly- I wanted to take care of you. I still do. When you didn’t give me any inclination that you wanted me back I just wanted a warm body. I know when you look at me you see a guy that’s fucked half the office. I guess I was trying to distract myself from you. You have more power than you know, Y/N. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’d drop any of them for a chance with you. And I don’t mean just for tonight, I want to date you. Make love to you. Shit, do you want a kidney?”

Your face must exhibit the picture of bewilderment to Gojo because he barrels on with a bashful, “I’m kidding about the kidney, but yeah I just need you to give me a chance. I’ll prove it to you, I want into your heart not just your pants.” He finishes with a rub of his neck and a sheepish smile.

Oh wow, you shrink into your seat and verbalize your thoughts, “Gojo, why didn’t you say anything?”

He looks down at the floor and mumbles, “I just did.”

You laugh and before you say anything else, he shrugs and glances at your tea and says, “What was I supposed to say anyway? Hey, Y/N, I know you’re practically in love with Kento and although I’ve had sex virtually everyone in the office give me a chance?” He ends his tirade with a scoff and you begin to see his lip quiver.

Well damn, maybe we’re both broken you think as you stand up and make your way to Gojo just across the table. You grab his face and softly gaze at him as you chide, “So, you're telling me you could have been blowing my back out the past two years?”

You get a laugh from him then as he cups your face and kisses you. You’ve been kissed before but, oh isn’t just a kiss. He sucks your lips and caresses your tongue with his and moans slightly when you gasp into his mouth.

This, this is everything.

This kiss has you somehow grabbing onto those silky white locks and gasping out, “Take me, take me to your room please.” You moan as he snakes his hand lower and lower until it reaches the hem of your dress.

He chuckles as he toys with your basic ass panties, why didn’t I wear sexier panties? You’re in the middle of your mental sob when Gojo bites your neck, and you cling to him.

“You sure?” he rasps out. “You don’t want me to fuck you against that window? For everyone to see?” You look up at him, panting and desperate, and shake your head. He merely smirks and jests, “What about Kento, you want him to see you falling apart for me?” Your knees buckle at that statement, practically grinding your teeth in frustration.

He seems to sense this as he gets you up and says, “Forward, walk forward.” You stumble and walk on shaky legs to the first room you see which luckily turns out to be Gojo’s bedroom, with a large Alaskan King bed in the middle and mirror on the ceiling.

You don’t marvel for long however because Gojo’s on his floor, your panties in hand, and before you know what’s happening you hear a “Hold this,” as he shoves the bottom part of your dress into your fists, and he licks a long stripe up your pussy.

That has your knees buckling for the second time today as you exclaim, “S-Shit, Gojo, I- wait.”

“You even smell good.” He groans and that has you gasping and whimpering above him. The feeling of his hands opening you up should make you bashful, but you cry out when you feel two fingers slowly start a rhythm inside you.

“Sat-fuck! Gojo, can we p-lease get on the bed?” He hums and picks up his pace and you clutch his raven locks and your pussy spasms, and you let out a guttural moan and before you know it, you’ve spiraled into your first orgasm of the night. You constantly gasp and twitch and Gojo, you notice is looking at you like you hung the moon and he’s groaning too. Then you see the very visible dark spot over his slacks.

You gaze at him vision still hazy and begin to question him, but before you can Gojo stands and abruptly pulls you to his bed. Once you’re standing before his bed, he strips you bare and with the way he’s looking at you, it’s not just physical.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, and you shiver when he traces his fingers over every insecurity on your body and with a groan he starts to strip too.

But you place your hand on his once he gets to his belt buckle.

“Let me,” you say, and he nods fervently. You take your time with his pants too, giving yourself time to mentally prepare yourself for this.

When you get to his boxers, you take a deep breath and a hand reaches out to you, “Are you okay, babe? Do you need a minute?” You shake your head and rather harshly yank his boxers down and damn near moan at the sight.

His dick is beautiful. There’s a slight curve, a pinkish hue and the prettiest tip you’ve ever seen. There’s no mole, you note. That bitch Allison was lying. You must sit on his bed gawking for a bit because when he attempts to lay you down with a chuckle, you remain upright and say, “Can I touch you? Please?” Now it’s his turn to gawk.

He stutters and shakes his head, “So I can cum for the second time? I haven’t even been inside you yet, Y/N. Don’t be greedy”.

You simply nod and say gently, “Do you have a condom? Not that I don’t trust you, I just want to be saf-”

He cuts off your rambling by kissing you and laying you down on the bed and saying, “I understand. My intention never was to take you raw. I know I have to earn that.”

He tries to go back down on you, but you shake your head profusely, just wanting him inside you already,

“Please,” he says nothing as he roots around in his drawer for a condom, you know he’s found it when he rips it open, and you feel him sheath it on.

“How do you want me?” you say as you prepare to get on all fours, but a slap to your ass stops you. You gasp and squint at him before you rub your ass cheek.

He leans down to nip on your ear and says, “Wanna see your face while I split you open, yeah?” You lean up to kiss him and he stares at you for a second and says, “Are you sure?”

You mentally roll your eyes but smile nonetheless and say, “Yes, Gojo I’m very sure.” He licks at your mouth and he slides inside you on a gasp.

He clenches his eyes shut and fists the sheets by your head, “How could you do this to me?” he says on a pained whisper.

You had closed your eyes on a gasp yourself when his dick touched your g-spot upon entry. You open them now and look at Gojo, his eyes look almost teary. As you reach up to touch him, he relaxes into your touch.

You look at him and although his rhythmic thrusting is making you breathless you say, “What’s wrong?”

He merely shakes his head on a chuckle and says, “You didn’t tell me your pussy was this good.” he says almost as out of breath as you.

How the fuck am I supposed to know? You think to yourself and proclaim hoarsely, “I-I’m sorry?”

His gaze darkens and he picks up his pace, his balls slapping your ass cheeks. “Sorry? You’re sorry? The only way you’ll be sorry is if you ever give my pussy to anyone else.”

"S-shit, you’re so warm and wet. Fuck you feel like home,” He says as he somehow gets deeper almost pressing into your cervix. When you don’t answer, he grabs your throat with one hand and pinches your nipple with the other and pins you with a look that has your mouth watering.

“Did you hear me? I said you feel like home, can you take me deeper? Huh? You want me deep in you? As deep as you’ve been inside me the past two years?” You nod and gasp and a litany of whimpers and moans fall out of your mouth.

“Yes, Gojo, fuck I want it deeper,” you choke, and a stray tear falls from your eye.

He flips you over now, and as he crushes your pelvis to the mattress and drags you up by the hair.

You practically scream, “Ah! Gojo, I- I can’t, I-I’m gonna- gonna cum”.

He chuckles wrapping his arm around your midsection and his middle finger finds your clit and as you buckle in on yourself on a choked moan he says, “Fucking take it! You begged for it, take it!” You try to squirm away as he lands a few quick slaps to your clit. “You think anyone else could fuck you like this?”

You let out a cry and damn near yell, “No, fuck Gojo, you’re fucking me so good, never b-been fucked like this. N-never felt so full, sooo good,” you’re practically drooling at this point as Gojo fists your hair and finds your lips with his own.

Your pussy clenches and Gojo groans, still rubbing furiously at your clit. Your mouth opens wide, and you begin gasping for air and your hands try to find purchase on literally anything at this point. You’re flailing and shaking as your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave.

You collapse onto the mattress and Gojo follows with a long groan and after two more thrusts he cums too pulling off the condom and drenches your still quivering pussy.

You gaze at him and he says, “You okay? I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?”

You weakly nod and he goes to the en suite bathroom after throwing the used condom into the bin beside his bed. When you hear water running, you remember the mirror on the ceiling as you glance up at yourself, you gasp. Who the fuck is that? This woman looks nothing like you, hair everywhere and makeup smeared, and legs still twitching.

Gojo rushes out of the bathroom upon hearing your gasp and looks at you, looking at yourself, and smiles.

As he saunters over to the bed, warm rag in hand he says, “I meant what I said earlier, you know? This isn’t a one-time thing for me.”

As he wipes you, you nod your head and bring him in for a gentle kiss and whisper against his lips, “Me either”.