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#they can kiss but mostly they are a secret third thing
neros-w · 2 months
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queerplatonic cynonari // canon compliant au where cyno and tighnari marry each other to keep things within at least 80% legal boundaries so cyno could formally adopt collei except this comes with the added bonus of cyno would like to make a great-maybe-subpar impression on tighnari's parents so they pick up the romo behaviors common within fox people where cyno provides continued financial support despite having to follow the grand sage's whims
and it comes to a head when nahida is finally granted her archonhood back and cyno is finally given more free time to foster a relationship with collei and spend time with his now completely 100% legal family
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deeversuswords · 27 days
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‧˚₊ Shotgun in his car
pairing: bakugou katsuki/f!reader summary: random thoughts about Katsuki and driving word count: ~800 words contains: slight nsfw, mostly fluff, aged-up • ao3 link a/n: I blame this song for putting the thought in my already "crying over bakugou katsuki on a daily basis" brain. before I kick myself out, as a bonus "thought": rolled-up sleeves. enjoy 🧡
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Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend who pulls up in front of U.A after getting his driver’s license, where you’re supposed to meet up with him, and whistles at you, the sharp tune a shared secret. His proud grin widens when your head jerks up and all you manage is half a curse in his direction as you startle. He knows the words died on your tongue at the sight of him in the driver seat of a car you don’t recognize. Of course not, it was his parents’ gift for his eighteenth birthday, one he hid from you for this very moment. He melts inside when you climb in, throw your arms around his neck, and smother his face with kisses as you squeal out your congratulations. Putting up with all the dumb instructions from his driving instructor was worth it if this was his reward.
Bakugou Katsuki whose strides hold more arrogance when he returns to the dorms and waves his driver's license to everyone. He was the first to turn eighteen, and now, he’s the first with a driver's license. His chuckles resonate just right when your friends groan exasperated and complain how they have to wait, but congratulate him nonetheless and wiggle their eyebrows because Katsuki with a license means a free drive. Wrong.
Bakugou Katsuki plays taxi driver for no one except you. You—the reason why those free drives he vehemently denies become a thing. When you ask him, pretty eyes peering into his, Katsuki thinks “Hell no”, but his mouth says, “Whatever. Fine.” And there are rules. No eating or drinking. Wear a seatbelt. Don’t be obnoxiously noisy. And the strictest of them all: no one, not even his parents, is allowed to sit in the passenger seat. Hell breaks loose on anyone who tries. “That’s my girl’s seat. Get in the back”—not a statement, but an order. It’s that same seat that becomes the first thing he modifies in his car with his first paycheck. Every last yen goes into the best material, best cushion, best everything because your comfort is his. And it’s so fucking worth it when you cuddle up in your new seat with a big smile on your face and love is all he feels when you say, “God, Kat. You’re spoiling me too much” and pull him by his collar into a mind-numbing kiss.
Bakugou Katsuki and driving with one hand, a habit born out of a passing comment you made about how hot he looked when he did that. His brain rewired on your words, spoken in a nearly whiny tone. But with the rewiring came a whole lot of other things. Like his free hand resting on your thigh. Sometimes his fingers trace random patterns and innocently knead and pinch. Other times, they glide higher and tease, twitch with need when your legs instinctively spread for more of what only he can give you. It is for that reason that Katsuki memorized where in the city the secluded places were. Once his name passes your lips on a breathy moan, he knows no driving, only how to pull over and make you come all over his fingers.
Bakugou Katsuki who finds an outlet in driving late at night when stress gets to him and sleep is being a bitch. Becomes his routine, and slowly yours too. “You’re more important than my sleep, Kat. I’m right there with you,” you told him one night when he got angry at himself for daring to disturb your sleep for the third time that week. He kissed you right after, hungrier than ever, insatiable for your love and everything you meant to his world. Katsuki didn’t care that you wore only a T-shirt—one of his old ones—as he dragged you out of your shared apartment and into his car after allowing you a minute to put shoes on. That drive was a learning experience so now, among the many things crowding his calendar, are the nights promising a clear sky. Because he needs a repeat of his car parked on some random grassy field on the outskirts of the city. To watch you beam at the starry sky above and drown in your joy as you tug on the sleeve of his T-shirt, pointing at the constellations and naming what he already knows because Katsuki always listens when it’s you. Eventually, he silences you with a kiss, his love burning too bright and too hot; it overwhelms him. His head spins and spins. It’s a blur that temporarily clears when you finally ease down on him in the backseat of his car, your gaze locked with his lovesick one, hands grabbing everywhere they can. It’s the only time when Katsuki goes against your wishes of fucking you hard. Not a romantic in the literal sense of the word, but the way everything gravitates together in the moment changes his usual pace into something softer. He makes love to you. Heart wide open, soul bare.
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obsessedwithceleste · 22 days
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Theodore Nott Headcanons
Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood
Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on
1000% Theo is an introvert
Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly
While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily
This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular
He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever
He’s also stupid smart
(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)
And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole
Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him
He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset
Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure
Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes
But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle
Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire
A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control
They’re wrong
Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-
“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”
Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population
Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch
Theo is a chaser
Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy
Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock
And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more
But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days
Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body
But really they’re just that- rumors
Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way
But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not
He prefers to fly under the radar
He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell
He has a hard time entering a real relationship
Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick
But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard
Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)
Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you
With varying degrees of success
King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)
Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell
Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way
Finds it amusing when you get jealous though
But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)
Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af
But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s
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Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk
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slutforleeminho · 3 months
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HI HI HI 😋
your work is so amazing, you're such a good writer! i have no idea if your taking requests, but if you could maybe find time... could you write part two of 'the other woman' please?
it was so well written, and i love some good angst with an even better plot 🫶🏽
also another 'no idea' but if you do anons... could i be 🍧 anon?
tyyy and ofc you can be 🍧 anon
The Other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
ft. lee felix
THIS IS A PART TWO TO THIS - CANT BE READ AS A STAND ALONE
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"Nice to meet you, Felix."
~
"Felix stop it!" Your chest was hurting from the force of your laughing. His fingers dug into your sides, causing your body to automatically jolt from the ticklish feeling. "Seriously lix I'm actually going to pee myself if you don't stop." you barely got the words out through your continuous giggling. only then did he cease his antics and let you breath.
"Eww don't do that. I don't want to have to wash the sheets again." he shifted his body until he was facing you, lying on his side with his arm supporting his head. "That would be the third time this week."
You could hear the smugness in his voice without even looking at him, but when you did, what did you see? a big toothy grin plasterd across his beautiful face. "Shut up." you playfully nudged his shoulder. But the drama queen in him came out as he gripped the place that you hit him with both of his hands in pain, as if you had just shot him.
"Ah, what the hell. are you trying to chop my arm off?"
"Oh, shut up you big baby." you wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him closer until his nose was basically touching yours. His big brown eyes were staring deep into your soul, expectantly.
"Only if you kiss it better." He whispered against your lips, the warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver. he had a way of making you feel so safe and protected from the world, like nothing could touch you as long as you had him. He leaned even closer in attempt to connect his lips with yours, but the harsh sound of your phone ringing startled you both out of the little bubble you created. You both huffed a breath of annoyance in unison. "It's him again, isn't it?" felix rolled over on his back. it was more of a statement than it was a question.
You grabbed your phone off of the nightstand just to see that there was no caller id so yes it indeed was him.
After Hyunjin walked out on you, you cried and cried and then cried some more, then after that you blocked his number, along with all his other social media accounts. You thought that would be the end.
You were wrong.
The phone calls from unknown numbers started a couple of days after you met Felix. Only once every few days, you never answered of course, you knew as soon as you heard his voice, you'd be right back in the place you're trying so hard to crawl out of. Then you started getting comments on all of your old Instagram posts:
"I miss you."
"Pick up the phone."
"Baby, please I love you."
"I can't stop thinking about you."
Seeing that made you both angry and hurt. How could he even say that? You gave that man everything you had while he was only giving you a few days a week. You made sure not to dwell on it for too long, deleting the comments and blocking those accounts.
Then the calls came more frequently, mostly late at night when he was probably alone and horny.
Once you and Felix made your relationship official, you came clean about everything. The affair, the phone calls, the comments, you wanted no secrets between you two, nothing to get in the middle of something that has the potential to grow and become something beautiful. He was shocked but he tried his best to understand and made sure to tell you how proud he was of you for being strong enough to be the one to end things.
"I'm going to kill that guy if I ever see him." Felix said before standing up from the bed.
"Where are you going?" You rushed to say, the worry in your voice was too thick to hide. The anxiety that he'd get sick of you constantly being interrupted by your ex haunted you, and he knew it.
He smiled and walked over to your side of the bed. "To make us some breakfast, I know how hungry you are in the mornings." he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry, okay? Nothing can stop me from loving you."
~
The past six months have felt like a vivid dream, you started working for a very famous clothing designer - as an assistant but it was something - and you loved every second of it, you had basically ripped your apartment apart and replaced everything in it and made it your dream home. But the best part was the person who was by your side the entire time, Lee Felix. Of course, you started out as friends but you both knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
You had a perfect schedule: date nights on Monday, sleepover at his place on Wednesdays, and movie night at your place on Saturdays, where he'd spend the night and leave Sunday morning after brunch. You both agreed not to spend every day together because you're still healing from your past relationships and Felix has never been in a serious relationship. But of course, if one or the other got a text saying they missed the other, it only took about ten minutes before there was a knock at their door.
But today is Saturday and you haven't seen him since Tuesday morning since he had to work late on Wednesday. To say you were excited was an understatement, you were practically pacing around the kitchen waiting for him to get here, until he finally appeared on the other side of the island. "That spare key you gave me comes in handy."
"Felix!" you squealed and quickly made your way around the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You took way too long to get here."
"It's ten a.m., did you want me here before daylight?" he was teasing you, but his hands caressed down your back to pull you closer against him. He missed you too.
"I expected nothing less."
~
"Why did you pick a sad movie?" you sobbed behind your hands.
"Baby, it wasn't that sad." he tried to argue but you saw him wipe away that stray tear right before the movie ended. He thought he was sneaky.
"Tell that to the girl whose best friend just died." you gestured to the tv. Another cry coming from your lips.
"Aww baby stop before you make me cry." he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down on his chest, and combing his fingers through your hair. "Hey," he tilted your head up until you were nose to nose with him, the tears immediately stopped. "it's okay, honey it's all fake."
ring. ring. ring.
"Ughh," you pushed yourself up and grabbed your phone. "It's like he fucking knows!" you put it on Do Not Disturb and shut it off completely. You were pissed now. "I don't know what to do Felix." You plopped back on the couch and he pulled you back to him once again.
"it's okay, love. We'll figure something out, I promise." there wasn't a trace of hurt or annoyance in his eyes, just genuine concern for you. This time when you leaned forward your lips met his and it felt like ages since you were this close to him. He pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, as one hand moved to cup the side of your face.
"Y/N?"
At first you thought you were hallucinating from all the stress, until Felix jerked away from you and stood, dragging you up with him and stepping in front of you to shield you from the intruder.
"Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?" Felix yelled.
Hyunjin looked between you and Felix, confusion all over his face. "Y/N, baby who is this?"
Oh, hell no. You grabbed Felixs hand and squeezed it reassuringly before stepping out from behind him. He was hesitant on letting you any closer to this random man until you said: "He's my boyfriend, Hyunjin." Oh.... Its Hyunjin. Your ex boyfriend.
"How did you get in here?"
He held up the spare key you had forgotten you'd given him while ya’ll were together. You snatched it from his hand before he could pull away. "Why the fuck are you in my apartment?"
"I-" his eyes started to water. "You're with someone else?"
You turned to look at Felix, his jaw was clenched as he watched Hyunjins very move. "Yes. Now leave."
"But I- I thought you loved me," his voice broke. "And I still love you. Y/N, I left her. I left her so we could be together." He said that with a smile as if that would change your mind. No, it made you want to vomit.
"Good, she deserves better. And so do I."
He nodded his head, processing what you just said. You could physically see his hurt turning into anger. "So," he looked straight into your eyes. "Did you tell your little boy toy over there what we did on that couch that you were kissing him on? Hmm? How much you loved it when I leaned you over it and I fucked you till you were begging for m-" He was cut off by you harshly slapping him across the face, the force making him stumble back a bit. In the corner of your eye you saw Felix launch forward just in case hyunjin decided to replicate your violent energy.
"How dare you come into my home and degrade me like this, let alone Infront of someone I care about! I did love you, Hyunjin, but not anymore. And you never loved me. You may know my favorite designer brand or what I like in bed but that's all you know. You don't know what my favorite color is or my dream job, so you definitely don't know who I want. So let me tell you. It's. Not. You. And it never will be. It'll always be me. I am who I want to be happy, and nobody else can make that happen." you stopped to take a deep breath to calm down and hyunjin took that as his que to speak.
"I should've never left her for you, all you are is a cheap slut." This time the smack you heard didn't come from you. It was Felix lunging forward and punching him in the face. A loud crack came from the impact, and you couldn't tell if it was Hyunjins nose or Felix's hand. But judging from the blood gushing from Hyunjins nose, it was definitely broken. Hyunjin stumbled to the floor while holding a hand over his bleeding nose.
"Felix stop!" you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off of hyunjin. "You," you pointed at hyunjin and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up and towards the door. "Out!" Opening it you pushed him out, slamming it in his face, but not before getting in the last word. "Nice going hyunjin, you just earned yourself a restraining order."
Once the door was closed the reality I what just happened came crashing down on you like a bag of bricks. you pressed your back against the door and slid down it and let all the emotions show themselves. “Felix, i’m so sorry.” you sobbed into you hand. you couldn’t even imagine how he felt right now, but still he came to you and took you in his arms as you cried.
“it’s okay, love, you did the right thing. Don’t worry, ok? i’m here, i’ve got you.”
I feel like every time i post I’m apologizing for not being active, but i had a good reason this time😭
@caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukiswife @seung-mine @sungprotector @soephiphanymain @minnieslover@kjr-army @gingerblade @ebbaskz @nqvgue @sl6gszn @erisuna @jenniferzipsblog @broken-glowsticks @superiorbrownskinn @skzstaykatsy @laexoticlunatic @vrslvts1
not all of y’all are on my taglist but were some of the people asking for a part two so i hope you don’t mind, just wanted to make sure you saw it☺️
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vigilantethot · 6 months
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random headcanons about being Miguel O’hara’s housewife <3
Pairing: Miguel O’hara x fem! Reader
this is mostly SFW
Disclaimer: This is my first fanfic I’ve written in yearsss so pls be easy on me haha. Also the reader is black coded. 
It’s no secret that Miguel works too much. He is under tremendous stress all the time, so it makes total sense that he needs his home to be a safe space, and a calm sanctuary. 
Its also no secret that Miguel is a control freak. He has a schedule that he MUST abide by or he’ll go crazy.
As his wife, you have a HUGE part in his routine.
Miguel takes pride in providing for his loved ones, and early into the relationship he told you he wanted you to have to worry about nothing, to just do whatever your heart desires whether its art, reading, or just laying in bed all day. 
When you first got engaged to Miguel, it was super hard to get used to his schedule, it seemed like he was never home, and you often found yourself feeling useless and insignificant to him. 
Upon communicating this with Miguel after he was late for dinner the third time that week, he instantly made changes to accommodate you into his life. You were his life after all. 
He quickly made sure to start including you in his day, even if he’s at work. The last thing Miguel wants is for you to feel useless, and he would do anything to make you happy. 
Treating you like a princess makes him so happy. Everything you want, you get. Miguel has more than enough resources to cater to your every whim.
Found a new hobby that you’re going to spend hundreds of dollars on only to get bored of it and keep the supplies in your hobby room to collect dust? Sure, go ahead and get everything you need, he just wants you to find your passion!
Now lets get back to the routine: 
You two always started your days in bed, limbs tangled, your head on his chest, his hands rubbing your back.  
After a quick cuddle session, and maybe a little more than that, you two make your way to the kitchen, where you brew coffee, make his breakfast, and discuss your plans for the day. 
Miguel never leaves for work without kissing you at least three times, he says its to “clear his head.”
Miguel likes to keep tabs on you all day. He is a very possessive and overprotective man, and he will go to great lengths to ensure your safety. 
He's constantly texting, asking what you’re doing and how you’re doing. Always asking if you ate (if you didn’t you would be in BIG trouble, it seriously pisses him off when he thinks you’re not taking care of yourself.)
He also has a few cameras in your house, for “safety”. Mainly its just to watch you throughout the day to admire you/check in on you. 
He also always has your location, just in case. 
Miguel calls to check in at least twice a day. Hearing your voice and hearing you talk about the fun things you’ve done calms him, and reminds him why he works so hard. 
You really don’t mind how overbearing Miguel can be, he makes you feel loved and safe. 
Miguel loves to hear about your excursions throughout the day. You just got your hair done? be prepared to send him 100 pictures, and he will save every single one. 
Seriously, his camera roll is just you. 
You went shopping? He wants you to model everything you got, even if its just a bonnet. 
He loves anything you do to your hair, whether its a sew-in, braids, or just cutting it all the way off. He’s so lovesick he would still look at you with heart eyes if you had a bowl cut.
Before he met you, Miguel would never leave his work under any circumstance. But on the days where you go to the salon and look so pretty, he couldn’t resist taking a long break just to see you in person. Of course your fresh hairstyle would be tousled and unkempt by the time he’s done showing his appreciation for your beauty. 
When Miguel gets home, his full attention is on you. 
He loves to come home to you, with your apron on, music playing and the wonderful smell of whatever you made him for dinner. 
After showering and putting on cozy clothes, you two enjoy dinner and just talk about anything and everything. His eyes full of love and adoration as you tell a funny story about something that happened to you that day. 
He always helps clean up after dinner, often splashing you with water of putting soap bubbles on your nose while washing dishes. He can only show this side of himself with you, and that’s why his love for you grows more and more each passing moment. 
After dinner, you two normally unwind on your huge, comfy couch that he custom ordered just to be able to accommodate the both of you. 
You two spend the evening cuddling and watching TV, with him pressing lingering kisses on your neck until he takes you into his huge arms and takes you to bed, where the night can continue ;)
A/N: feedback? requests? message me :)
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coryosbaby · 1 year
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Rafe Cameron x reader (18+)
You and Rafe aren’t friends.
That’s the only thing you really know about whatever you two have going on. The inherently sexual situation had began at Midsummers, when he had cornered you in a random bathroom and had got down on his knees and demanded to taste you.
You wouldn’t have anything against him, if it wasn’t for your friends. Hes nice to you, always has been, but you know that’s only one side of him. Because on the other side of the boy, he’s mean, and he’s violent. Especially to the other pogues. And if you’re being honest, the guilt from the fact that you’re fucking him in secret eats at you everyday.
And so what if that smile whenever he watches you cum makes something in your heart cease? And so what if his hands, although mostly rough, hold you gently while he when they know you’re having a bad day? And so what if sometimes, just sometimes, you see his face in public and want to run towards him and kiss him with everything you have?
You try not to think about all of these things as he fucks you into his mattress right now. And honestly, it’s working.
“Always running that fucking mouth,” rafe growls. you’re moaning, whining under him as he pounds into you, your swollen pussy begging for release. “thinking you can say whatever the hell you want. but you’re fucked out of your mind now, aren’t you baby? can’t say a single fucking thing.”
Your hands come up to grasp his shoulders, and you press hot, wet kisses onto his biceps. he groans, whispering, “fuck.” under his breath when your tongue traces the vein coming down his arm.
“Desperate girl. yeah, you want this dick, don’t you? Little fuckin’ whore…” his fingers reach down to rub your swollen clit. Your wetness practically gushes down your thighs at his words.
The boy’s name is all you can say, all you can think, as you come undone for the the third time that night. your tight pussy squeezes his cock in such a harsh grip that it has Rafe’s hips stuttering. your juices squirt all over the man’s cock as you feel his hot seed spill inside of you. Rafe practically whimpers at the feeling of his release. never would he have thought he would be able to fuck you like he dreamed of so many times. And if we’re being honest, he wants you, all the time; wants to take you on dates, buy you gifts, get you married to him so he can show you off to everyone and everything. Maybe even get you to be swollen with his child.
But knowing Rafe, he’s addicted to the feeling of harming his own mind. Whether it be with drugs, or violence, or denying his feelings for the love of his life right in front of him. And that’s why he’s been so quiet, so full of confusion and despair.
But despite this, however, he begins to get caught up in the smell of you, the heat of you. And as his hand is wrapped possessively around your pretty throat, as he coats your walls in his creamy white seed, four words that dictate Rafe’s entire brain spills out of his mouth before he can stop himself.
“I fucking love you.”
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kiyooriu · 5 months
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NPMD headcanons based on nothing but what my 100% Real Psychic Powers tell me
- richie hates eating peanuts. not because he’s allergic, not because he dislikes the taste but a Secret Third Thing
- after exactly 2 hrs, 35 mins, and 16 secs pete will always ALWAYS stretch back and let out the loudest scream known to man to get his extra energy out
- ruth wrote an entire 1 hr 30 min musical based on star wars one night and it’s on soundcloud somewhere but she won’t tell anyone how to find it (pete found it on accident but won’t tell her because he knows she’d probably freak out about it, he still listens to it occasionally)
- steph can play the bass nd her go-to song is hey barbara (IV of Spades)
- in line with this ^^ pete has rudimentary guitar skills and wanted to write a few songs with ruth’s help but she refused
- grace wanted to learn how to play the flute but was never allowed to bc her parents thought it would “give her ideas”
- richie’s trans awakening was in elementary when he and two other friends wanted to dress as the kids from dinosaur king nd the other girl was really insistent on being zoe so he dressed up as rex and it Felt Nice
- richie’s BI awakening was the sasunaru kiss and he thought he was homophobic bc he “felt weird after seeing it”
- RUTH’S bi awakening was watching lotr fellowship of the ring when arwen said “if you want him, come and claim him” (she rewatched it multiple times and didn’t sleep)
- one time in elementary grace really wanted candy but her parents were Very against it so she paid a friend to get her one (1) gumball and dhe felt so bad she cried about it and wanted to lock herself up in church
- richie is Mildly into kpop (bc a lot of anime enjoyers i know also like kpop) and he tried to get ruth into it too (mostly the choreography bc he wants ruth to get into dancing again)
- everyone in grace’s elementary was reading harry potter nd she wanted to know what the hype was about but didn’t want the Devil Magic to get her so she borrowed a copy from the library under another student’s name and then burned it after reading to “show god she condemned the devil worshipping” (i think she’s unhinged enough for that)
- pete’s favorite scooby-doo character is shaggy ahaha
- steph used to roleplay teen titans with some childhood friends and would always ask the boy she liked at the time to be beast boy so she could be raven and pretend they were a couple
brain juice wore off pls enjoy the hcs 👾
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luxaofhesperides · 22 days
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(yourlocalcorviddad)
Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??
(part one)
Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.
How could they, when they lived states apart? 
The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 
Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.
And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 
The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 
“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 
“One state left, yeah?”
“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”
“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 
This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.
It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.
Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 
“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 
Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 
Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.
“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”
“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”
“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”
“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”
Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”
“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”
“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”
“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”
Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 
There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.
But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 
Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 
That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 
They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.
He likes it here. 
Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 
He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 
Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 
The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 
They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.
“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 
“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”
“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”
Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.
He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”
“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”
“Why a pet snake?”
“Just feel like it.”
“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”
“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”
Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”
The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 
It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 
For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 
At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 
He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 
“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  
“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”
“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”
There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 
Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 
He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.
“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”
“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”
“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.
“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.
He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 
Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.
He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.
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Sneaking around
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Summary : Draco is being tailed by Harry, but he doesn't know that. He goes to meet his secret Ravenclaw girlfriend y/n. 
Harry slid out of Slughorn's party and followed Malfoy. He knew his cloak would be of use as he threw it over him. Draco Malfoy during this whole semester looked sickly and pale but today he looked…Draco.
 He followed him through the secret passageway on the third floor that was rarely used; he wondered when Draco had found it. He was so deep in thought he hadn't almost noticed that Draco had stopped. 
Suddenly black hair flicked from a corner. Draco lounged and pulled out a laughing Ravenclaw girl. 
"Salazar Y/n," 
"Hi~" Draco's scowl dropped and a shy smile made its way there instead. 
"Hello," Draco rolled out. 
"Your hair is a mess Malfoy, are you actually using your shampoo?"
"Of course I am, i was bloody thrown from Slughorn's stupid party" 
"Sounds a bit hmmm jealous, was a certain Harry Potter there?" Harry froze once he heard his name. 
"Don't start, you saying his name once is enough,"
"Shall I start calling him the chosen one or the other he who must not be named." Harry was mesmerized by her, it was like she radiated happiness. 
Draco shook his head so hard that his hair became more messed up. 
"Jeez, Draco relax," 
"Potter's been trailing me lately," Y/n raised her eyebrows. 
"If I didn't know any better I'd ship you two," Harry wanted to retch in his hiding place. "Lorminuim"
"That's new," Draco remarked, flopping on a nearby couch. "Made it?" 
"Nah 7th years, it's a silencing charm which also acts as an alarm if anyone steps within 10 feet of our invisible bubble we'll know"  Harry froze again, if he moved. He'll be in deep trouble.
However everything except for one fact flew over Draco's head as he sat up. "7th Year boys?"
Y/N blinked at him before she threw back her head and laughed. "What if it was a boy?" Y/n teases coming closer. "Mmm, what if it was?" 
Draco rolled his eyes. Y/n sat on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. Smooshing his face makes him look like a fish. Harry was still in severe shock. 
“I’m yours, mon amor est pour toi et toi sulement,” Draco burst out laughing. “Stop laughing I tried.” 
Draco pressed soft kisses into her palm. “I know, bloody accent needs help but, I love you too” he then said something in perfect french. Harry had enough and he, under his cloak, moved backwards inch by inch turning with each step, he did so till he was out. 
“Harry?” He spun to find Hermione and Ron behind him. "Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost,"
"Malfoy,"
"Don't tell me you followed him, can you belive this Ron, wait, you knew didn't you," Hermione pointed at Ron's red ears.
"I- Harry what about Malfoy what did you catch him doing," 
"He and y/n are a thing," 
"What? They barely are in the same space at the same time," Hermione said crossing her arms. "I mean yeah, y/n is close to the slytherin boys."
"What-" 
******************************************************************************************************************************************************
Somehow news had spread quickly. Mostly thanks to Ron and his, "MALFOY AND Y/N ARE YOU BLOODY SERIOUS MATE" Soon it even reached the love birds themselves. 
"Pansy told me that she heard it from Luna who heard it from Ginny who heard it from Ron."Y/n was sitting at the head of Draco's four-poster bed with his head in her lap 
"Do you think he caught us snogging somewhere," 
"I would hope not else you won't be getting any." Draco pouted. 
You’re cute when you pout
“Thank you,” Draco flushed slightly. She herself blushed, she said that outloud. 
"Nevermind, it was probably Potter maybe he tailed me on one of our dates," 
"Maybe," Draco started to play with her hair.  
"We can't keep hiding in your dorm, unlike you, a dinner person, I am a breakfast person." 
Draco sighed at that. They only had two classes today both after lunch. "Please let's just stay here, just for now," 
"Fine, you owe me," 
Draco just smiled and cuddled into y/n, "I really love you y/n, like a lot that i actually let on" Y/n froze.
"Y/n? Y/n you don't have to say it back, I just-"
"I love you too,"  Draco sat up and looked at her. 
“You don’t need to tell me you love me, I don-” she shut him up with a kiss. Suddenly the door barged open, 
“HA PANSY YOU WERE RIGHT COME CHECK THIS OUT,” Blaise in all his glory stood heaving with laughter. Soon they were joined by Pansy Theodore Matheo and Lorenzo. Draco with a wave of his wand had shoved them out and locked them out. 
“Why are we friends with them,”
“Say the word and they’re gone,” she laughed an kissed Draco back. 
“I’ll think about it, since we’ve been caught and I’m starving, let’s go,” Draco sighed and help her off the bed. “But you’ll still owe me a bunch of snacks later,”
Draco looked at her a small smile on his lips. “Deal,” she smiled and his heart stuttered. He was truly enamored with her.
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spatialwave · 1 month
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Can you do an Angus Tully NSFW alphabet?
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 – 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.
notes: 18+. fem!reader/college au. 18+ characters. thank you for asking me to do this. <3
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
angus tully is a darling with aftercare, something that comes naturally to him. he loves to pepper your face with chaste kisses and coo gentle praises in your ear as you cuddle. if you don’t use a condom he’ll make sure to get a towel to clean you up, or you two will sneak to the showers together. 
he’s so fucking kind with you—always making sure you know how loved you are after he’s made ruins of you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he loves your tits, they’re his favourite thing in the entire world. he’ll touch them any chance he gets and will constantly ask you to wear something low-cut. it makes him so incredibly hard when you don’t wear a bra, his cock twitching in excitement anytime he can see your hard nipples pressing through your shirt. 
his own favourite body part is his cock. he’s well endowed and you were the one to tell him that. angus thought he was very average, but when you dropped your jaw the first time you saw him hard and naked he grew very smug and not-so-humble. his ego was never the same.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
angus cums a lot and he likes to see it on you. he loves cumming on your face with your tongue sticking out, seeing how it decorates you. he thinks you look so pretty when it dribbles down your chin. 
his favourite place to cum is inside you, though. he ruts into you as he finishes, slowly rocking until he pulls back and watches how it drips out of your pussy. he’ll use his fingers to push it back inside of you, fucking you with them until your reach your peak.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
angus likes stealing your panties after you fuck. he'll keep them to jerk off with, sometimes putting them in his mouth to bite them. when you find out he's embarrassed as hell, but when you suggest that he can use them to cover your moans that becomes his new favourite thing.
anytime you get too loud, he'll bundle up your panties and shove them between your lips as a makeshift gag.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
angus tully has little experience—he’s had his first kiss & made out with girls before. nothing serious, especially since graduating from an all-boys school. when he met you he was lacking in recent experience and was still a virgin. though, after reading enough porno mags, he had a general idea of how to please a woman, but he learned the most from you.
he listens to your soft sounds and whimpers when his fingers curl inside you, how your moans choke in your throat when his tongue circles your clit. he’s a perceptive person, you hardly have to show him a thing and by your third time sleeping together he has you writhing on the bedsheets crying out his name. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
he loves when you ride him because he has the perfect view of your tits bouncing. he likes holding onto your hips and helping you bounce up and down on his cock. however, he greatly prefers when you grind on him and fucking yourself on him, his eyes staying focused on you as you moan and mewl as you feel him hit deep inside your pussy.
he also loves the hook position because sometimes he needs to control the pace and fuck you like crazy. your thighs pressed against your chest and calves resting over his shoulders, giving him perfect access to thrust into you as deep and hard as you both crave.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
it depends on the situation. if you’re high, he’s always laughing, especially when you two are kissing—he just feels so elated and happy to be with you. effortlessly pleased and madly in love. early in your relationship, he was goofy too, mostly out of inexperience as you two learned each other’s bodies and made mistakes.
he’s mostly serious now, concentrating on how his cock penetrates you just right and making sure you get nothing less than euphoria.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
angus doesn't groom that much, mostly thanks to hippie culture. he will give himself a good trim if you request it. he also has a happy trail that he's very proud of.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
this is something that depends on your 'style' during the act. if the two of you are feeling desperate and needy, there's little romance and a ton of heady passion. if you're more vanilla and gentle, he'll whisper in your ear how much he loves you, how lucky he is, etc.
he's a romantic at heart, so sometimes he prefers to have those gentler moments with you to remind you of his love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he masturbates so much. it started with porno mags, but now all he needs is to picture your tits and he’s hard and ready to go. he jerks off any chance he gets when he’s alone, which is a lot more now that he has his own dorm room.
he loves watching you masturbate too, his eyes fixated on you while your fingers push inside your pussy and circle your clit. he’ll oftentimes stroke himself when watching, licking his lips as you toy with yourself under his gaze.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
teasing, biting, mild exhibitionism, giving praise, edging/orgasm control, watching you beg for his cock.
angus is a kinky man, but like many others, it comes with the more experience he gets. when he learns about edging, you can say goodbye to the times when you were able to cum as freely as you wanted as he fucks you. now he prefers to tease you and watch you beg for him to put his cock back inside your aching pussy.
(he also has a breeding kink that he's embarrassed about.)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his bed, by far. it's private and away from the other college students, the only downside is having to try to be quiet so the r.a. doesn't knock on his door mid-orgasm again.
angus likes the showers, too. they're not co-ed, but that doesn't stop him from sneaking you into the men's washrooms so you two can fuck in one of the shower stalls. to the boys that pass by, they usually try to ignore the muffled moans coming from the stall with two sets of feet visible from where the curtain ends.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
his biggest turn-on is when you're flirty and touchy with him, especially in public. he likes it when you bat your lashes at him and chew on your lip coyly, or when you're walking through campus together and your fingers brush along his hand slowly and softly–making his skin tingle.
when he's extra sensitive, sometimes he'll need to pull you aside somewhere private so you can get on your knees and take care of the problem you created for him. most of the time you two will decide to skip class and head to his dorm.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
he doesn't like being called daddy... for personal reasons.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he loves when you suck his cock, seeing the way you look up at him with your mouth and throat full of him. his hands in your hair, tugging as he pushes himself deeper and seeing how tears prick your eyes when he cums.
his preference is eating you out. he wasn't as skillful at first as he is now, so expert in his skills that oftentimes he can make you cum in a few minutes with just his tongue and fingers. he loves how you taste, swirling his tongue around your clit and licking you up and down until his mouth and chin are dripping with your juices. he especially loves when you ride his face because he gets the perfect view of your bouncing tits while indulging in your heat.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
angus usually leans more toward fast and rough with his movements, he isn't sure where exactly he gets his energy from, but lord knows he uses it well. he loves seeing how big of a mess you turn into when he's fucking you from behind with quick, hard thrusts–fingers digging into your hips as you cry out his name with your face shoved into the pillows.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
angus loves quickies, especially the ones that could potentially lead to you two being caught. quick fucks in the showers, a janitor's closet, or hidden in the quietest section of the library. you two don't do them often, but when life gets busy around midterms and finals, you two find yourselves needing those bursts of release.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
the biggest risk angus takes with you is not using condoms. he loves filling your pussy with his come and watching how it spills out of you and he never wants to change that. when you told him you were on the pill it was like all his wildest fantasies came true.
he also likes to experiment with semi-public sex. you giving him head in the back of a dark movie theatre or going shopping and fucking in a changing room.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can go for a looong time because he's learned how to pace himself. there was one time you realized that you'd be fucking for nearly two hours, your bodies were so sore that the next day you both had to skip class because there was no way your legs weren't giving out.
he usually has enough energy to go out at least two rounds, at the very least enough to make sure you still cum after he does.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
angus doesn't own any toys himself, but is curious about them when you mention it. the only toy that you two purchase together is the hitachi magic wand after spotting it in a sex shop. it becomes a staple in your sexual escapades. he loves using it on you, watching how your hips twitch when the vibrations overstimulate you while he fucks you slowly and steadily.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
oh, how angus loves teasing you. it all started when you two were just friends, he'd notice how his teasing remarks about you would make your cheeks and ears turn red. then, when you two became sexual with each other, he wondered how that would translate into sex.
it worked wonders on him, loving the way you'd blush underneath him when he teases you. "you want my cock so bad, don't you?" he says as he just barely pushes the head of his cock inside of you, smiling when you pout and whine for him to keep going.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
he isn't that loud, usually groaning and grunting in your ear with each snap of his hips. his words are breathy and heavy when he talks to you while fucking, his warm breath tickling your ear and neck.
when he cums, though, he'll moan loud enough that you're certain the other students could hear from their dorms. he loves when you're riding on top of him and your hand covers his mouth when he cums, enjoying the bit of dominance you get over him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
if there is one way to get dominance over angus it's to kiss and bite at his neck and ears, it'll leave him melting and begging you to keep going. when you bite and suck at his skin he'll let out the most pitiful, whiny moans and can be convinced to do almost anything.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
angus is a thin and lanky guy, muscle mass isn't his friend and it never will be. you love that about him.
he also has a bigger-than-average dick, that's what you love about him even more. it's around 7.5" and it's decently girthy, but not crazy. the best part about him is that he can actually use it well–lucky you.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
angus has a high sex drive and it surprised you. it can even be a little annoying sometimes, especially when you are stressed with homework and he's sitting next to you in the library with his hand trying to find its way into your skirt while hidden under the table. you can't hide the fact that you love the attention and whenever you're in the mood he's ready and waiting patiently.
he always says how he's so lucky to have the hottest girlfriend, so can you blame him for being constantly horny around you?
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he's a heavy sleeper. seriously, the dude is like a rock when he falls asleep and he falls asleep fast. one second he'll be cleaning you up with a towel and the next his face is buried into your neck and hair, snoring gently into your ear. it's very cute.
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siriusleee · 10 months
Text
a better year
a/n: i linked this one to ao3 a week or so ago, but i figured i'd do it now i'm procrastinating the next chapter to adamantine chains lmao this is my take on the bookstore au tags: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, cursing, signs of ptsd, , original female character, retirement from the military, bookstore au 6.7k words summary: He takes her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light. "Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night. She kisses him over the mask. She doesn't mention it the next day.
The official order rolled in on plain white paper, an unceremonious carrier of his future. He was the first to go: a sign that the team was being unraveled slowly. After all, they're not young men anymore. 
"You'll receive your pension; it's enough that you shouldn't have to work again. And we've made sure that you have an official background. It's not much, but it's what we can do."
Laswell doesn't move her eyes from his, her fingers clutching a pen so hard her knuckles are white. 
"It's for the best Simon," she says, setting the pen down carefully on her desk, "and if it makes you feel better: everyone will be released soon. I'm sorry."
He's not dumb; he knows these things only last so long. Forced retirement is something to be celebrated - celebrated that he lived long enough to have one, celebrated that his body isn't rotting in some foreign country, a home for worms. Celebrated that the 141 made it out mostly intact. Mostly together. 
Johnny claps him on the back and promises that when Laswell brings him that paper when Johnny gets his own forced retirement, he'll come to find Simon. 
Simon doesn't stay in England - he doesn't like the way the gray settles around him. He leaves the apartment Laswell set up for him untouched, a note for Johnny for where to find him. 
He finds a small house to rent somewhere in the American Southwest, spitting distance of Alejandro's territory. It crosses his mind more than once to make the trip across the border, to see how Alejandro's doing; to see if Rudy is still scared of fantasmas . 
But he isn't a fantasma anymore; he's just Simon Riley.
And it's just Simon Riley who paces the aisles of her bookstore, trying to find something to take his mind off of the fact that he is utterly and completely bored. 
"This is the third time you've been here this month. I'm not putting you into debt am I?"
Her accent is different from everyone else's in town - still decidedly American, just not from here American. Simon ignores her, his eyes focused on the row of books in front of him. She sighs heavily, but drops it, leaving him behind to stock the end cap. Last week's murder mysteries replaced by this week's contemporary romances. 
"I need to lock up you know - I can't stay here all night." She speaks as if it's not odd that Simon only comes in on Thursday nights - the only night of the week she stays open late to rearrange the end cap displays, to vacuum the floors to perfection. 
"You haven't even cleaned the windows yet," Simon replies, pulling a fantasy book from the shelf: something about a world full of malicious fairies and a secret world beneath New York. It's something new. 
"For your information, I did that before you got here," she says, pushing herself up from the floor with a groan. "And I have a life. I can't sit here all night and wait for you to pick a random book off the shelf."
"I never said you didn't."
Simon places the book as she dips behind the counter, a lukewarm cup of coffee left beside the cash register. She drinks from it, wincing at the taste as she rings the book up.
"That'll be seventeen forty-five."
Simon gives her a twenty and she breaks the change, counting out how many pennies he's supposed to have on her fingers. 
"You going to be back next week?"
"Why?"
"I want to close early next Thursday; I need to know if my best customer is going to be here or not."
Simon doesn't speak as he takes the plastic bag from her hands. She waits for him, eyes never leaving his as she sips her coffee, waiting on him to answer. 
"I can come by Friday instead."
"I'm closed Fridays."
"What about Wednesday?"
"I can stay late Wednesday."
He leaves her with just a crinkle of the plastic bag and the chime above the door.
***
He spends too much time at the gym ignoring Johnny's text messages. Johnny tells him Price was next - swearing that he was going to retire to the countryside where he can smoke his cigars in peace. Maybe find himself a nice girl to cook him dinner every now and then.
His fingers hover over the buttons, almost messaging Price to tell him congratulations. But Simon's not sure it really is. 
He's alone at night; no one's in the gym at two in the morning. No one's there to watch the way he slams the weights down when he's done or hear the way he gasps for breath after lifting too heavy - the tear in his chest that never quite healed right burning him from the inside. 
The walk home is quick; the stars shine brighter than anything he'd ever seen in England. The closest he ever got to seeing them like this was in the Middle East, but he hardly noticed the stars then. He wasn't expecting to be left looking up.
He sits in the shower at home. He can't stand the way the water hits his skin, but can't stand the idea of sitting in the water either. So he stays huddled in the corner of the bathtub, the water barely touching him. 
Simon Riley thinks about death. 
He thinks about what would happen if he died right now. 
He thinks about what it's like to die twice. 
***
The door is locked when he comes by Wednesday; he feels foolish standing there with his hand still pulling on the door, knowing it won't open beneath his touch. Foolish to think that she would-
Foolish when his heart ticks a beat as she comes around the corner. Foolish when he steps inside just a second after she unlocks the door.
"Sorry, my last employee must have locked the door on their way out. So did you like last week's book?"
"It was alright."
The silence is almost awkward as she locks the door behind him.
"Let me know when you're ready. I just made coffee in that pot behind the counter; you can have some if you want. I shouldn't drink it all myself."
She leaves him behind to disappear into the store room. He paces the aisles aimlessly, waiting for something to jump out at him. It's quiet tonight; the music that's usually playing softly over the speakers is absent. Simon can hear her through the storeroom wall moving boxes around, the sound of a box cutter piercing the quiet every so often. 
She reappears, a box in her arms that she drops heavily onto the counter. Simon watches her over the bookshelf of non-fiction works as she pulls each book out, scans it into the computer, and stacks them on the counter 
When the box is empty, she breaks it down and leaves it on the counter. She looks up, almost catching Simon staring at her. He ducks away, taking a book on the Korean War with him. At the counter, she can barely see him over the stack of books in front of her. 
"Last week was fantasy and this week is the Korean War? You certainly have varied tastes."
Simon hands over the fifteen twenty-two he owes her, her hands linger in the distance between them. 
"Do you have a job?"
"What?"
Simon's taken aback at her candor. I used to have a job he thinks, as he pockets his change. 
"No, I don't."
"Do you want one? I need a weekend worker. It's just me on Saturdays and Sundays now my other guy quit to go to college. I can't pay you a ton, but I kind of get the feeling you don't need it."
He falters for a moment; that's all it takes. If he's being honest with himself, he misses taking orders, missing feeling useful to someone.
"I can do that." 
"Can you start this Saturday?"
"I can do that."
She's locked the door behind him before he realizes they don't even know each other's names. 
***
Her name's Billy.
"What's your name; I probably should have asked that before I hired you."
Simon doesn't answer, placing the box down slowly before he answers. It's odd, telling someone his name. His real name. 
"It's Simon. Simon Riley."
She looks him over, elbows resting on the counter. 
"What?"' He asks, uncomfortable under her x-ray analysis of him.
"Just didn't peg you for a Simon. You know with your general countenance; the mask and all that."
She doesn't ask why he has the mask on. Simon gets the feeling that she never will. 
She works him like a dog; he's moving some of the shelves around when he thinks that this is probably the reason her last employee quit. It's like being ordered around by Price again, but this time his enemy is the dust. He doesn't stop moving until well after noon; sweat gathering in the small of his back. In her office, Billy is on the phone, yelling indistinctly at the person on the other line.
He doesn't have to watch her to know she's angry when she slams the phone down. He expects her to storm out of her office, to slam the door shut behind her. But she doesn't. When she comes out she's calm.
On Sunday she shows him how the books are organized, and she has him switch around the genres.
"Romance sells best during the spring, and mystery best in the fall and winter. So we need to pull the mystery books up to this front aisle and move the romance towards the back. These shelves roll so they're easier to move."
She's meticulous; Simon moves the same shelf four times before it's lined up exactly where she wants it. His constellation prize: cash wages handed to him at the end of the day.
"No paycheck?"
Her nails tap against the counter, the white paint chipped.
"I haven't processed your paperwork yet. I can take the money back if you want."
Simon pockets it.
They lock up together. It's warm outside, but she still tugs a hoodie over herself whenever she finishes, tucking her keys into the pocket.
It's a complete coincidence that they set off in the same direction. 
Simon wants a cigarette; his fingers itch for the pack in his pocket. But she'd said earlier in the day that the smell was disgusting and she couldn't breathe whenever someone with cigarette smoke on them passed her by.
They split up two blocks away from the bookstore. She motions up to the upstairs apartment of a shitty duplex. It's not the kind of place he expected her to be in.
"This is me. I'll see you next Saturday right?"
"I'll be there."
"Good night Simon."
She doesn't wait for him to say anything; not that he would have known what to say. She's up the stairs and inside (she didn't unlock the door; he has to restrain himself from going upstairs to tell her to lock it next time) before he can think of anything to say.
He smokes a cigarette at the bottom of her stairs; watches the outline of her against the curtains in her window. A fat black cat peers down at him, peers down at the cherry of Simon's cigarette in the darkness. The street lamp is burnt out, the shadows dark. He stubs the cigarette out on the sole of his boot and throws the cigarette butt out in the street. 
He's almost certain she'd chide him for that - the same way she did a kid who had the audacity to throw a cigarette down in front of her shop. 
His apartment is extra cold when he gets home.
***
"Maybe Price has it right: a life in the countryside. A pretty girl to cook you a few meals. Maybe a dog to curl up at your feet," Johnny drones on the other end of the line. Simon doesn't answer, his focus on cutting the potatoes in front of him into meticulous cubes. Johnny doesn't need him to speak. 
"What about you L.T.? What have you been up to?"
"I'm not a lieutenant anymore Johnny."
"You'll always be L.T. to me. And don't ignore the question."
Simon drops the potatoes into a pot, waiting on the answer to unstick from the back of his throat.
"Not much. I go to the gym a lot."
He doesn't tell Johnny how he has to break his gun down and put it back together three times each night before he can sleep.
"That it?"
"I'm working at a bookstore."
"A bookstore! A few months out and you're domesticated."
"Watch it, Johnny."
A pause.
"I have to go L.T.. Gaz is yelling at me."
Their goodbye is the silence that follows. 
***
Billy's arguing with a customer when he arrives Saturday morning.
"Listen, dude, I don't care what price you want to pay. This is my business and I set the prices. If you don't like it, you're not being forced to come here."
The customer drops it when Simon steps behind the counter. 
"I hate that guy," Billy tells him as she hands him a box cutter. "He comes in every week and tries to get me to lower my prices. It's a bookstore; I'm not getting rich off of this. I can't afford that. Anyway-" 
She sweeps her hair behind her shoulders. Simon catches a hint of a tattoo behind her right ear and a glint of cold chain disappearing beneath her shirt.
"Finals are coming up for the local community college so I had two different study groups book the tables in here today. They're usually pretty good, we just have to make sure to keep the coffee pot refilled for them because they'll drink it dry. It's $5 if they want coffee - per person don't let them try to swindle us - but they can refill it as much as they want."
Her fingers tap against the counter. Her nails are blue this week.
"If they ask about selling us their textbooks, tell them to come back next week. I have a shipment of children's books coming in - you can sign for it if I'm busy. Do I need to show you how to use the cash register or can you figure it out?"
"I can figure it out."
"Ok. The code is 4532. For now, do you mind breaking down the boxes in the back room and taking them to the dumpster? It's hard for me to reach to open up the dumpster lid."
She doesn't wait for him to answer before she disappears into the back room.
This Saturday is busy. 
Simon's about to snap at a kid who won't shut up about how the comic section is too small when Billy appears beside him. 
"I'll take over here Simon. There's lunch in the back room."
He's thankful for her in that moment.
He's more thankful when the storeroom shuts behind him and locks. The table has a small bag with his name written on it. A sandwich from the deli across the street and a bottle of water inside.
There are no tomatoes on the sandwich.
Just like he always orders it.
***
He smokes a cigarette again outside her apartment. But this time he tucks the butt back into the pack. He'll throw it away at home.
***
"I want to put a coffee shop in here," Billy tells him when the store is slow. She traces the right side of the store with her fingers.
"And I want to open the shop up earlier and stay open later."
"Why don't you?" Simon asks without looking up from his task of the day: putting 'half-priced' stickers on books that aren't selling well.
"I'm not making enough money. I have just enough to pay you and my weekday employee and the overhead cost of this place, plus pay myself. There's not any extra coming in. The bank-," she pauses, red nails scraping at a piece of tape on the counter, "the bank is willing to give me a loan on the coffee shop stuff - the machines and all that - but I don't have the money for the renovations. My contractor told me he'd have to build the cabinets, open up the drywall and put an extension on our water pipe. A water filter needs to be installed. It's just - it's just a lot."
She slides the stack of books he's already put stickers on off of the counter and into her arms.
"Maybe next year."
***
The next time Johnny calls, Simon can hear the strain in his voice. 
"It's my turn L.T.. Laswell said I failed the psychological and I can't stay."
"You going to keep good on your promise to come to be my annoying neighbor Johnny."
"Not yet. I want to go home to my mom for a little bit. Maybe next year L.T.."
"Next year's going to be a big year I guess," Simon says more to himself. 
"What's that L.T.?"
"Nothing Johnny. We should be happy we made it out."
Simon knows Johnny's not happy: not happy he never received the rank he wanted, not happy he has to go back home and take care of his mom again.
"You're right L.T.. I'll call you again when I'm home. How's the bookstore thing?"
"It's going alright. Bye, Johnny."
"Bye."
In the silence after the call, Simon thinks he should get a cat. Something to make the apartment less quiet; something to give him purpose when he's there.
Something that won't crawl all over him at the end of the day.
***
He needs something to do with his hands.
That's what he tells Billy when she arrives at the store on Saturday morning and Simon's ripping up a portion of the carpet, a stack of flooring waiting to be installed.
"So you have to do it when I'll have customers here?"
"Tell them it's a new addition; they'll be alright."
"I'm not paying you extra for this."
"I didn't ask you to."
Billy looks at him, one foot tapping a sharp staccato muffled by the carpet. 
"Fine."
She pauses for a moment, Simon's knife running down the carpet to separate it from the floor beneath. She picks up one of the pieces of flooring, turning it over in her hand.
"What is this?"
"It's vinyl. It's waterproof in case you spill something."
Billy drops the plank back onto the stack and leaves to unlock the front door.
Simon revels in the way his shoulders burn at the work, the way the rough concrete scratches his knuckles once everything is pulled off the floor and he has to start laying down the underflooring. He revels in the way his back cramps as he's bent over.
In the way he feels useful.
It takes him all day to get half the flooring down.
Billy doesn't speak to him about it, doesn't ask where he got the money from, or why he's suddenly doing free renovations on the place. 
Simon knows she appreciates it by the way she drops down his lunch - no tomatoes, just a water to drink- beside him without expecting a thank you. By the way, she chides the little kids who come over to ask him a million and one questions, he doesn't know how to answer and brushes them away from him. 
She catches him smoking in the back alley on his break. She's polite enough to turn back when she realizes he has his mask down and keeps her back turned to him.
"That shit's going to kill you."
"It can only hope." 
Simon can tell she's giving him a withering look at him from her position half inside the doorway.
"If you come in smelling like that cancerous poison I'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day."
He must smell because she doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day, not even saying goodbye when they depart at her apartment.
Simon hides the cigarettes in a drawer when he gets home.
***
It's Price that reaches out to him first, a quick phone call, a holdover from their days in the field.
"Are you holding up?"
Not "how are you holding up?", but "are you holding up?" The difference between three letters is so vast Simon doesn't know how to cross it.
"I'm doing fine."
"Johnny told me you've got a job?"
"Just something to keep me occupied."
"Is that all you've got?"
"What more do I need?"
The receiver is filled with the sound of Price inhaling a cigar; Simon can almost smell him through the receiver.
"You're not Ghost anymore Simon. It takes more than that to survive this."
Survive this . As if this is the most dangerous mission Simon's ever been on as if being forcibly retired has some sort of great mortality rate. 
"Understood."
He listens to Price's dial tone for five minutes before he hangs up.
Maybe it does.
***
He paces the town at night. Once the gym doesn't become enough to wear him out, doesn't help his brain relax, he walks the streets. 
He thinks more than once that someone is going to call the cops on him and report him for being suspicious. 
But Simon Riley isn't Ghost anymore. Simon Riley is someone not worth noticing. 
It's almost surprising how well the little town sleeps with the remnants of Ghost stalking through it; how now one seems to have any idea of what he was once - and still is - capable of.
He steals a lot of time sitting on people's steps, on the stoops of little houses, picking the petals off of the flowers in big pots, and lining up the shoes and toys that were left disarrayed in the chaos of the daytime. He wonders if someone is going to catch him on their security camera and name him the town freak, but no one does.
He keeps up at it enough that he can feel the shift in the air, feel winter creeping in. He notices it in the way more and more boots are left outside, by the plants with plastic coverings over them, protecting them.
He finds himself, more often than not, taking the long way around to stop at the bottom stairs of Billy's apartment. Most nights the lights are off, and the window open. He wants to tell her to stop doing that, to lock the window, but he doesn't know how to say it without giving away his nights. So instead he keeps watch, hands buried in his pockets as he counts the moths in the streetlights. 
Sometimes though the lights are on and he can hear the sound of her house through the open window. Sometimes the cat peers down at him as if prepared to leap through the window screen at him - sometimes she grabs the cat, never looking down at Simon; more often than not the cat curls up in the windowsill without budging. 
A few times he could hear her talking to someone, the conversation muffled from above. He wondered about who she could be talking to so late at night. Why she was up in the middle of the night to talk to someone? 
He makes his way home as the town starts to wake up.
***
He moves once - to a tiny house in the middle of town, just enough to have a yard big enough to cross in two strides.
He tells Johnny it's because he was tired of the noises of the neighbors. 
He tells Johnny it's because he's taken up woodworking and needs a spot for the tools.
"What are you building you old bastard?"
"Some cabinets."
"For what?"
"Mind your own business, Johnny."
It takes weeks to get them perfect. Eventually, though, they're good enough to put in the back of a rented truck. 
He does it on a Friday when no one is around. He tells himself that it's easier that way, no one walking underfoot. 
That night he lets himself admit - just for a moment as he sits on the shower floor - that he didn't want to see her face if she's disappointed by it.
***
She refuses to open the door for him the next day, opting to yell at him through the glass instead.
"You cannot keep making renovations to my store without asking me!"
"It's no big deal; open the door."
"No big deal: you put a floor down, you handbuild cabinets, and you broke into my store to install them!"
"You gave me a key."
"Not for that!"
It's a stalemate: Simon poised with his hand on the door handle, her hands tucked into the pocket of her jacket.
"I still have to do the plumbing."
She massages her eyes before leaning forward to turn the lock. Simon steps inside with the biting wind.
"You're fucking irritating, Simon Riley."
I know .
She makes him put up the Christmas tree - a fucking monstrosity that takes up the entire front window. It takes him all day to get the decorations to her standard; her yelling through the store at him to move something incrementally to the left or right.
Billy leans on the counter, shuffling through official-looking papers and refusing to look at Simon when he's finished.
"Thanks to you," she says, never looking up at him, "I have to start getting the paperwork processed to be able to serve food and drinks here."
"Is it difficult?"
"It's not easy."
Their conversation pauses just long enough for her to check out a customer. She turns back to Simon as soon as the door shuts.
"Why are you doing all this Simon?"
He doesn't answer, and he realizes as he stands there, hands folded behind his back and spine rigid that he needs to tell her something, but all he notices is the black ink mark on her cheek. She doesn't pressure him to answer, but she doesn't let her eyes leave him.
Simon breaks first, eyes cast down to the floor.
"Ok," Billy whispers under her breath, "you don't have to answer, but just let me know when you're going to do something else. Can you text me next time before you start?"
"I don't have your number."
She doesn't ask for his phone, instead, she tears a corner of a piece of paper off and scribbles her number on it. Her hands don't shake when she holds the paper out to Simon, but his shake when he takes it. Simon can tell Billy notices. He stuffs the paper into his pocket, pushing it past his keys and his phone. 
"Hey, Simon," Billy chews on her lip.
"What?"
"Are you busy tomorrow night?"
***
Johnny's chatting his ear off, Simon's barely paying attention to him as he stares at the shirts thrown out on his bed.
"- L.T.? Simon?"
"What? Johnny, what?"
"Are you even listening?"
"No, Johnny. I'm not."
The static of Johnny's disapproval.
"What could be distracting you from my wonderful conversation?"
"I'm busy Johnny."
"With what?"
"Nothing Johnny. I just have somewhere to be later - I'm trying to get ready for dinner."
"Dinner? Like with someone else?"
Simon hangs up on him.
***
Simon wants to pretend that he doesn't have the path to her house memorized; doesn't have each step calculated to know when exactly to stand on the bottom step at 6:59 so that he can knock on her door right at 7. But he does, so he hovers on the bottom step for an extra minute.
She doesn't answer when he knocks; she yells through the door for him to come in. In his pocket his phone buzzes every few seconds, Johnny sends another message insisting that Simon tell him who he's eating dinner with. Simon thinks for a moment about blocking his number for the night.
Billy smiles at him from behind the counter, elbow-deep in bread dough. All at once, Simon feels overdressed taking in the large shirt covered in flour Billy's wearing. 
"Hey. Sorry, dinner's going to be like 30 minutes later than I said. I couldn't get this shit to rise properly for like an hour."
"It's alright."
Billy must sense his apprehension because she jerks her head at a chair pulled up to the counter. 
"Come sit down."
Simon appreciates the order. Billy rolls the dough out on the counter, measuring the thickness with her knuckle with a precision Simon would expect out of her. He has to keep himself from staring at her; instead, he analyzes the rest of the apartment. 
He can see everything but the bedroom from his one spot; that door is firmly shut. It's clean but the type of clean houses have whenever someone new is coming over and everything is thrown into a closet. After a few minutes, Simon thinks he needs to speak.
"What are you making?"
"Rolls. I made - uh - what is the fancy word for it - beef bourgine?"
"Beef bourguignon?"
Billy smiles down at the dough as she cuts squares out.
"I'm glad one of us can say it - I can cook, I just can't speak French."
"Do you always cook like this?"
"Only on special occasions."
Special occasions . 
It's awkward at first for Simon to sit there while she moves about the kitchen, putting the rolls in the oven and cleaning the counter; Billy doesn't speak much and Simon knows she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence either. 
His phone buzzes again - under the counter he checks it.
Johnny:
don't leave me hanging lt tell me whos it is
"Your girlfriend?" Billy teases without turning to look at Simon from the other side of the kitchen. 
"Not exactly," Simon says, muting the phone and shoving it back in his pocket. 
"Do you have one?" Her voice is prying, but she doesn't look at Simon as she pulls bowls down from the cabinet. 
"A girlfriend?"
"Yeah."
It bubbles inside him - just once - the urge to tell her about himself . He swallows it down.
"No."
"Not even back home?"
"Back home?"
She grins at him slyly, setting two glasses of water down in front of the two of them.
"Why do you think I have to keep paying you in cash? Your um….paperwork didn't exactly list you as being an employable American. And you have - you know - an accent."
Simon doesn't realize he's leaning toward her until his elbows hit the counter. 
"No, not back home."
She seems satisfied by that answer - or she doesn't have time to ask anything else. Behind her the oven timer beeps and she turns to pull the rolls out. They're barely out of the oven whenever she ladles the stew into the bowls and pulls two rolls off one for each of them.
 Pushing the bowl towards Simon she opens her mouth - Simon thinks she's going to ask something else but she just shakes her head. 
"I'm going to eat over there, so you can eat too," she says passing him a fork. 
"No cameras?"
"None you can see."
She retreats to the other side of the room and drops down on the couch so that she's facing away from him. Muffled behind a door to the right, Simon can hear her cat meow once. 
They eat in silence; Simon knows she's only eating slowly to give him time to finish without her accidentally turning to see his face. He doesn't need it: he realizes he hasn't had a meal that hasn't consisted of a sandwich or some form of potatoes in weeks; he eats fast, slowing down just as he finishes to keep from embarrassing himself. 
He sets the bowl down with enough dramatics that she can tell he's done without having to turn around. It's quiet again when she comes into the kitchen and takes his bowl to rinse it out in the sink. The sound of the water makes his skin crawl; it clashes with the domestic feeling of being taken care of. 
She laughs quietly to herself as she dries her hands on her shirt, lifting it up just enough to expose the little shorts she has on underneath.
"Something funny?"
"Not really funny," she says, hands stilling in her shirt, "I don't know - it just - I - well it's about this time of dinner that guys usually try to take me to the bedroom. I was just thinking about how different this night would be with anyone else."
With anyone else . 
That bothers him some.
"I don't suppose that's what you came here for," she grins at him as she speaks, resting her elbows on the counter. "Besides we don't even know each other."
"We work with each other every weekend," Simon retorts, not sure why he feels the need to prove her wrong.
"And we barely speak the entire time."
She points at him, her bright yellow nails glinting in the light.
"I've never seen you in anything other than long sleeves, even on the hottest day. You could have like fucking tentacles under there and I wouldn't know. And you don't even know anything about me."
For once, Simon doesn't think - he does.
He pushes his sleeves up slowly, each one nearly to his elbow. Billy leans forward, just enough to see the tattoo ink and scars that mar his forearms. Her fingers twitch against the countertop like she wants to reach out and touch him, but they stay still.
"Do you - do you only have tattoos on your arms?"
Simon reaches up to hook one finger in his collar and pulls it down just a half inch - just enough to show her the ink there.
"Your turn," Simon says, dropping his hand down. Under the counter, it lies fisted on his thigh.
"My turn?" Billy asks eyebrow cocked at him.
"Do you have any tattoos?"
She licks her lips once; Simon can see her thinking. After a pause she reaches down to grab the edge of her shirt - Simon's heart clenches. She lifts the hem up, just enough to show him the edge of a tattoo on her side, disappearing beneath her shorts and rising above where she lifted. She laughs a little as she drops the shirt.
"Is that all we need to know about each other?"
"It's a start."
***
He finally tells her he was in the military four Sundays after the first one. She'd told him at work she was too tired to cook and apologized, promising to make it up to him. So when he showed up at her door with a pizza and a promise that he was just dropping it off on his way home, he was surprised when she asked him to come in.
Each week they coaxed something new out of each other: a snippet about their families, about their travels. He loves Kentucky; she's from the East Coast. Her father died young. He's from England.
She's curled up in the recliner the cat on her stomach - they're watching something on television but they're both not really paying attention to it. So he blurts it out - a new confession in this weekly therapy.
"I was in the military."
"I guessed. The British Armed Forces?"
"The SAS."
She frowns and Simon stiffens.
"Is that like a unit or something?"
"Yeah."
This time she grins.
"Is that why you always lock my door behind you when you come in?"
"No. I do it because you never know who could come in when you're alone."
"You mean when you're not here."
Yes.
"No."
She rolls over, clutching the cat to her chest so as to not dump him on the floor until her feet hang over the arm and she can eyeball Simon across the room.
"I can shoot straight."
"Can you?"
***
She can. She takes him through the desert on Friday afternoon, bundled up against the cold. Out where they can target practice without anyone bothering them.
She hits every target.
***
"Christmas is this weekend."
"Yeah."
"So you know we're closed right? I'm not paying you time and a half."
A pause longer than he's used to.
"Are you doing anything for Christmas?"
"No."
"Do you want to come over?"
***
She makes Chinese on Christmas. A tradition she says because when she was younger the only places open were Chinese restaurants and her dad couldn't cook. They didn't have real dinners until she learned to cook herself, but it was always Chinese on Christmas.
The cat has a bell around its neck for the holiday and it latches onto Simon for the night. She wrinkles her nose at the cat and calls him a traitor. The cat doesn't seem to care. 
"I didn't get you a present," she says, putting her bowl on the coffee table. From his spot in the kitchen, Simon speaks.
"I didn't get you one either."
"Well, you're slowly building me an entire coffee shop."
"That's not present."
"Well, it's not exactly in your job description either."
He leaves his half-eaten bowl on the counter to drop down on the couch. She's sideways in the armchair, shirt riding up and a bruise on her shin. She's back to white nails.
"I can make out with you for Christmas; other guys have liked that present."
Simon's heart nearly stops. 
"Excuse me?"
"I'm just kidding Si."
Just kidding .
***
She begs and pleads with him to please go out to the bar with her for the new year. He doesn't have to drink, she says, she can drink enough for the both of them. 
She does. She doesn't even make it until eleven.
He carries her home on his back. Her door is unlocked and wants to think about how dangerous that is, but all he can think about is her warm breath on his neck.
He drops her unceremoniously onto the couch - he thinks about carrying her to the bedroom, but that's one place the door has always been shut to. 
He does take her shoes off of her while she insists she can do that herself. He slips the right one off when the fireworks go off outside; the entire town is bathed in their light.
"Midnight," she says as Simon rises up on one knee in front of her, ready to tell her goodbye and good night.
She kisses him over the mask.
She doesn't mention it the next day.
***
By summer, Simon has the entire cafe portion of the store finished. He's embarrassed when she hangs a sign over the area: 'Simon's Spot'. 
"What?" She asks, peering down at him from the top of the ladder. "You built it."
***
He breaks during the summer. Billy calls him on a Tuesday, asking if he knows anything about air conditioning systems.
"You built the cafe, so I know you're handy."
He doesn't. But he can figure it out. 
After hours the bookstore is sweltering. Billy has the blinds pulled down in a futile attempt to keep out some of the heat and the setting sun. Her shirt, already cropped short, clings to her with sweat when she unlocks the front door for Simon. 
It takes him two hours but he figures it out. When it kicks on she looks up at him, one arm resting on his shoulder, and tells him he's her hero.
He makes it all the way to her apartment - the promise of something for dinner and a cold drink as for payment the ruse - before he does it. 
It's dark inside, dark enough that when he locks the door behind him, he slips his mask off. She turns to ask him something - he doesn't hear it; he's too busy kissing her, pushing her back against the kitchen cabinet. 
It's messy - the kissing - he can't remember the last time he kissed somebody like this - all teeth and tongue and need.
When they stumble into her room, he doesn't take his shirt off, and she doesn't ask why.
***
"Come visit me L.T.. Scotlands beautiful this time of year."
"I'll have to book two tickets Johnny; that's not cheap."
"Alright, you cheap bastard you can afford it."
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boldlyvoid · 1 year
Note
No pressure blurb request for Eddie: "Please don’t touch me. I can’t fall any deeper."
(Actual line not required but I like the feeling)
absolutely bestie! thank you <3
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he's been having dreams about her for months now. they started out as nothing serious, little appearances and funny moments that made no sense mostly... and then his brain decided to conjure up a whole life with her inside his dreams. a life where she held him in her arms and kisses his forehead, she made him laugh and smile and she married him. she wore a ring with his initials engraved in the band, she wore a beautiful white dress and her hair looked perfect and she kissed him at the end of the aisle...
that dream took a while to recover from. then he had a dream that she had his kids. he had dreams about holding their babies, ones who looked so much like her and had his attitude. he snuggled them close, and they cuddled all together in a big comfy bed with the sun shining through the windows and the birds chirping and it was perfect. then he woke up. it always broke his heart to wake up... to reach out for her and only find his pillow because she wasn't really his.
she's just a friend.
he has to get that through his thick skull before he accidentally wraps himself around her and kisses her on the cheek, or the back of her neck or her shoulder... it would be so easy, too. she's always so close, it just feels right to want to reach out and give her some love but he can't... until she makes it almost impossible.
a group camping trip was supposed to be a fun way to have a vacation together. they'd all take a vehicle, they'd bring tents and supplies and smores and they'd spend a weekend at a lake 3 hours away from Hawkins where they could just be normal. it was a great idea until they had to separate for the night. Steve and Robin take a tent, Nancy and Jonathan head into the back of her station wagon, the kids are in a huge 10-person tent that ted wheeler bought, overjoyed to know they'd be leaving his house for a weekend.... leaving Y/N with Eddie.
the back of his van is stuffed full of blankets and pillows, he wanted to be comfortable in the night and he didn't even account for someone sleeping with him... it was BYOT. bring your own tent, he brought a van, and he expected Y/N to partner with someone like Robin or Max and El. Not him. but he can't say no to her when she asks ever so sweetly, "can i sleep in the van with you?"
so now he's here, laying completely flat on his back, blanket tucked under his chin as he stares at the ceiling. there's enough room between them for a third person, he's so close to the wall of the van it's like he's afraid she's going to bite him or give him cooties or something. he's so scared of her. and she can feel it too.
"Eddie?" she moves closer and he tenses.
"what?"
"it's cold, don't you want to cuddle?" she pouts, bringing out the puppy dog eyes.
he shakes his head and keeps looking at the ceiling, he can't give in. not when it means something completely different to him. "please don't touch me... I can't fall any deeper."
it takes her a moment to realize she did hear that right. "Eddie... baby?"
"Don't," he pleads, begging with his eyes. "you can't lead me on, I'm so gone for you already I won't recover from a night of cuddling with you."
"so don't," she shrugs. "fall completely sickly in love with me and let me take care of it. let me shower you in care and kisses and comfort and praise. let me love you."
the anxiety of loving her in secret for so long all comes out in one simple, wobbly-lipped, "please?"
she pulls him into a hug and cradles his head and kisses his cheek gently, "I thought you'd never ask... I've wanted to tell you for so long, Eddie."
he laughs then, pulling back so he can look at her, "since when? if I knew you liked me back I would've done something about my crush ages ago?"
"I thought being subtle would help... little touches and sweet compliments and making you things I know you'd like, those were all my attempts at showing you I care," she explains. "but if you want me to come on stronger I can tell you I've been dreaming about loving you for ages."
"I've been dreaming about your love just as long," he admits.
"you don't have to dream anymore," she looks at his lips and then his eyes and back down to his lips again.
he can read her a lot better now that he knows it's mutual, so he lays her back against the makeshift mattress and hovers over her. she reaches up to brush his hair back behind his ear, leaving her hand on his cheek, "are you gonna kiss me?"
"can I?"
she nods, "please?"
he leans in slowly, watching her the whole way until their lips meet and both of their eyes close. she hums with contentment, relaxing under him as he breathes her in, pushing into her slightly before he pulls back, barely. their noses touch, he smiles at her and she steals another kiss, and then a third before she starts to giggle.
she brings up her other hand to hold both his cheeks, "i love you..."
"I love you," he says, shocked and in complete disbelief that this is real and happening and not another dream he'd regret in the morning. "I love you so much."
she pulls him in for another kiss and another one after that. he had a feeling she was going to kiss him until the sun came up and he was okay with that. more than okay with it. he wanted to live here forever, right in this feeling of newness and tenderness and excitement. it's everything. she's everything he dreamed of.
maybe he can actually see the future... he was always meant to be here.
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the-fiction-witch · 4 months
Text
Young Love P2
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating SMUT
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Requested I NEED part 2. I love it. Must need part twoooo This is amazing! Waiting for part 2 part 2 plsss ❤️❤️ Part 2 please I can't wait for part 2 ❤ Part 2 plsss I it's so cute I couldn't help myself but laugh because I would have done the same thing to my friends
I sat at the table on my third drink since I took my seat, My family of course was eager to ask questions but I didn't want to speak. Maybe this was all a terrible idea. 
"So Dr Dawkins, how long have you been seeing our sweet Y/n?" My mother asked,
"Ohh Almost a year now, isn't that right my darling?" He smirked in my direction, his hand coming to settle on my thigh
I glared but smiled and nodded, before I quickly grabbed his hand and crushed it as I forced his hand away,
"oww" He complained to quiet for anyone at the table to notice, "Don't be vicious darling." he whispered,
"Ohh that's just lovely," Magnolia smiled, "Reminds me of our own courtship." she smiled at her husband Sam, 
"And tell me do you have intentions to continue with my daughter?" My father asked,
"Ohh yes, certainly sir." He nodded, "We were thinking of a spring wedding weren't we my darling?" He smiled leaning on his hand and blowing me a kiss, But I stomped on his foot under the table, He shot me a look as everyone talked about themselves "I'm doing what you asked."
"Dail it back loverboy." 
"So? Do you two think soon we can expect splendid news?" my mother asked and the table silenced,
"Yes, very soon I'm sure." He answered,
"Ohh wonderful!" She smiled, 
"And of course, we'd be expecting young ones?" My father offered,
"Ohh Absolutely, we had discussed it, of course, four children we were thinking my darling?"
I glared at him with rage "Yes... Dear." 
"Wonderful! Young love is so sweet and beautiful now we only have little melody and all our sweet little ones will have a love of their own," My mother smiled, "Ohh how I remember the moonlit strolls, the sweet shared cookies, the secret words whispered at windows, the thrill of love bites hidden from others eyes, of muffling the lustful sounds of intimacy behind pillows for fear of walking the house, the unbridled torment and ecstasy of young love." 
 I held my breath trying not to answer, my parents had always been like this so affectionate for each other that they often failed to realize that's not the sort of thing you tell your children about when you are their age. 
"But of course, you two must be well aware of such things,"
"...yes absolutely," He nodded, "Your uhhh" he coughed," Your daughter and I are well aware."
"Wonderful, and of course now you are no longer a secret Dr Dawkins, you are welcome to stay the night with y/n so long as you two just let us know." my mother smiled,
"We wouldn't want any sudden interruptions now would we?" My father added,
"I- I Can?" He gulped, 
"Of course, we trust a doctor to know the best ways to... help our daughter," my father winked at Jack,
"Yes, of course." Jack nodded shooting me a glance as if to ask 'Are they serious?' and I just nodded in return, "well that uhh that will be nice won't it darling" 
"Yes... it will" I rolled my eyes 
Once dinner was done I very quickly took Jack back to my room mostly to try and hide, Immediately I jumped on my bed and hid my face away, 
"Your uhhh your parents are weird."
"Yeah, I know..."
"They have literally only met me for dinner, and they are completely fine with me banging you." 
"Jack, don't call it that."
"Having sex with you then. They are... really accommodating..." 
"They are weird."
"yeah they are... and it's bloody weird, I feel kinda bad I'm not having sex with you they seemed like they really wanted me too, I feel like I'm a disappointment all of a sudden." 
"the deal was cookies and Beer Jack I'm not sleeping with you."
"Can we amend the deal?"
"To?"
"Every time I need to pretend to be your boyfriend, you have to sleep with me."
"No."
"Then the deal is off and I'm telling them-" he said heading to the door
"No no no!" I stood and grabbed his arm, "ughhhh fine! One orgasm per performance."
"Not one orgasm, sex."
"Ohh sex is finished after you orgasm"
"Not necessarily, One orgasm could be you just pawn me off with a handjob and my performances are worth way more than that." 
"Fine... Sex. Per performance."
"Thank you, I will accept a blow job."
"I bet you would, it's just easier for me to sleep with you at least then I can lay down and my jaw doesn't get tired." 
"Good, we have a deal?"
"Do I still owe you a pound a kiss?"
"Let's say a kiss for a kiss how about that?"
"Fine."I sighed, 
"Good, we're agreed then, Now? where's my reward for such a stellar performance darling?" He cooed wrapping his arms around my waist,
"I'm really gonna hate you aren't I?"
"Yeah you are, but you can't argue 'cause you wanted this." He smirked, "You asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend, so I'm being your boyfriend," he smirked grabbing my arse,
"Fine, let's just get this over with. And don't be loud I already know my parents are assuming there fucking in here I'd rather it not be confirmed," I sighed moving to the bed,
"Grumpy little girly today,"
"Just get this over with Jack." I sighed, 
"Alright, how do you want me darling?" He smirked crawling on my bed, "I get to hold your hips and thrust your face into your pillow? do I get to hold your legs around my neck? or am I gonna get you bouncing on my cock?"
"You get to work with the side while I lay down with my book," I told him laying on my side and grabbing a book, He rolled his eyes as he slipped his waistcoat and shirt off laying down beside me and wrapping his arms around me and kissing my shoulder, He took my book from my hand and tossed it to the side "Hey!"
"You're not going to need to entertain yourself with me, darling," he cooed as leant down to nibble and kiss my neck tugging down my dress to expose my shoulder to him his kisses getting more intense and lustful slightly biting,
"Don't bite Jack i don't need my mother pointing them out,"
"Aww come on? it'll be cute, I want them to look at you, see your cute little hickies and say humm look what Doctor Dawkins did to Y/n" 
"One Hickie." I warn,
"I better make it count then," he growled, he kissed up my neck and found a spot I couldn't hide he made sure to nibble and kiss it first before he bit me like a goddamn vampire from one of my romance novels leaving a hard dark hickie on my neck I did my best not to gasp but it was fairly difficult given his attention his hand quickly undid my dress and slipped his hand under the now looser fabric to grab my breast "Ohh perky little girly aren't you?" 
"Hey, I said sex I said nothing about my boobs."
"Boobs are a very important part of sex, come on I just wanna make you feel good too why do you keep trying to stop me?" he cooed between kisses, "ohhh your body doesn't wanna stop me?" he growled as his hand grabbing and groping my breast had caused my nipple to get a little hard "Listen to your body darling," He growled tugging on my nipple to make it even harder before pinching it between his fingers and rolling the tip between his fingers 
"Ughhh!" I squealed before clamping a hand over my mouth
"Awww see, you are enjoying it." He smirked, "Humm imagine your family are tucking themselves in bed right now, all of them can hear you screaming, and they all know what we are doing." he smirked, 
"There just assuming."
"True, so even if you don't make any noise you know your whole family is sitting in their beds knowing I'm about to bang your cute little body," 
"Jack don't call it that."
"Bang, fuck, sex, whatever word you wanna call it... " He rolled his eyes tugging up my dress till he exposed my skin "Ohhh now that's a little juicer then I expected." he smirked smacking my arse
"Hey! Jack! don't I'll-"
"Aww you don't want me to make you too sore? Don't worry darling I'm gonna make you so sore your cute little arse can't even sit down to dinner with them tomorrow." He smirked forcing down my panties and moving his hand to stroke my clit, Immediately I bit my pillow not wanting to give him the satisfaction that I was enjoying it, "Awww what a cute little girly, such a pretty little pussy, open your legs or I'll throw you on your knees." 
I knew I couldn't argue so I moved my leg to let him work, 
"humm what a good girly," he cooed undoing his own pants and tugging them down, he gave himself a few gentle strokes before he slipping himself inside me "Ughhh fuck! Ummm! you should have made me your fake boyfriend years ago" he growled as he held my hips firmly digging his nails into my skin as he aggressively thrusted,
"And why is that?" I asked trying so hard not to scream as I felt the pleasure of him moving 
"cause I've been waiting to fuck you since I met you, if I'd known faking being your boyfriend for one night was all it took to get up in my little girly, Humm your family would want me marrying you by now after all these years." He growled, often biting and kissing my neck with the movement of his hips. 
"Ughhh Jack," I began to whine from the overwhelming pleasure my eyes often rolling back, 
"Awww see you do love me," he smirked, "Don't worry little girly, I'll make you cum" he smirked rubbing on my clit as he thrusted my bed creaking and banging against the wall from our movements, "Ummm listen to that fucking noise your parents must think there banging like rabbits." he growled, "Then again, I guess we are aren't we." 
"Jack faster please-"
"Yeah? Ughh you sound so good begging me for more, But... I can't, you feel you good little girly" He began to slow so I gritted my teeth, I hated admitting it, I hated what I was about to do, and the endless satisfaction it would give him, 
.... I'd never live what I'm about to do down... 
But I'm not stopping, I pushed his hips gently turning us so he laid on his back and I sat on top of him gently moving my hips at the speed I wanted him at,
"Ohhh fuck! you bad bad girl!" He growled grabbing my hips to guide me to bounce on him, I admit he looked amazing laid on my bed in only his shirt, his hair slightly sweaty and out of place, leant on his elbows against my pillows moaning under me as I worked, "Ughhhhh fuck! yeah? you want me darling? I'm not even your real boyfriend and you need me so badly?" 
"You are a cocky little bastard, Jack,"
"Yeah, I am. You seem to be enjoying my cock enough though," he smirked, "Ummmm! why the hell did I spend so long playing card with you, I should have been bending you over the table" 
"You bend me over the table I'll bite you."
"That a promise little girly?" he smirked slapping my arse as I got faster and faster, "Or maybe you'll just feel me inside you and remember how good I make you feel." 
"Ughh just shut up and move Jack!" I yelled moving his hand to my clit, he happily began rubbing on it again his other hand grabbed my dress almost ripping it to force it away enough to get at my breast which he happily groped and plaid with my nipple, "Ughhhhh!"
"Ughhhh fuck you sound so good!" he groaned, "humm what would your family say they saw you like this, their cute little daughter bouncing on her doctor?" he gasped, 
"Knowing my parents... they'd probably correct us on something."
"annoyingly I think you're kinda right." he joked, 
 but I reached my peak biting his neck as I did which in turn got him to his own edge burying himself deep inside me 
"UGhhhhhhhhhh! Yes! yes! Y/n!" 
I did my best riding it out as he all but collapsed against bed until I couldn't move anymore and I fell face-first into my pillow on the other side of the bed, we gasped and tried to regain our composure, 
"I'm really gonna enjoy this arrangement..." 
"Ohh shut up Jack..." 
"Love you too darling."
I yawned and forced myself up, my body still knotted up with Jack as after all that had happened last night we just kinda collapsed and slept in one another arms, still in our clothes from last night, I forced myself up and rubbed my eyes for a moment looking at Jack as he slept, humm... for such a cocky dick, he can be kinda cute when he's sleeping, I smiled a plaid with his hair a little which didn't even make him stir, so I moved and gave his lips a little kiss, but as I pulled back he opened his eyes, 
"Morning,"
"AHh! Christ you made me jump!" I complained, "I didn't know you were up,"
"I'm awake... just about." 
"Morning,"
"Morning," He smiled, 
"Particular reason you're still here?" I asked climbing out of bed,
"I'm meant to be your boyfriend, aren't I? Boyfriends sleep over sometimes."
"Do they?" I asked starting to change out of my dress from yesterday, 
"They do, they cosy and cuddle up with your girlfriends"
"weird,"
"We did have sex last night."
"I know, I'm still sore and... sticky." 
"Yeah sorry about that, I'd have pulled out but... you were a little too vicious with me."
"Still I'd much prefer we have sex and you bugger off."
"That's not how boyfriends work Y/n."
"Yeah well, I don't like boyfriends, hence the whole point of you faking to be mine." 
he smirked looking at me 
"What?"
"You're really wondering why I'm looking at you when you stood at the foot of the bed without your dress?"
I rolled my eyes, "You're a doctor I don't care, you've seen a hundred naked ladies, plus anything important I have you saw last night anyway."
"True." He smirked, "What is your issue with boyfriends?"
"Fictional men are better, you ever read anything by Jane Austin? Ever. Trust me after Frederick Wentworth or Fitzwilliam Darcy." I explained, "You can't go back to the chaos of real men." 
"You can't fuck a book y/n." 
"I would if I could Jack." I said getting a clean dress for the day, but he moved to the end of the bed not bother to tug his pants up and grabbing my waist to pull me to stand naked between his legs 
"That what you want little girly? You want me to quote Jane Austin at you, to read you a Shakespearian sonnet, to make you feel loved?"
"... couldn't hurt Jack," I admit, 
He smirked kissing my sternum as he spoke "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
I gasped doing my best not to squeal as I looked down at him,
"Like that darling?"
"Eep." I squeaked, 
"Aww you're so cute little girly," He smirked, he slapped my arse and continued to kiss my chest and breasts, "You're cute when you let the hard shell down a little." 
I was about to speak but my bedroom door opened to my mother, Immediately I grabbed the sheet to cover my naked body leaving Jack to grab the hem of his shirt to cover himself too, but it was kinda too late, "Mother!"
"oh, do excuse me. Breakfast is ready." She smiled, and for a moment her eyes looked over me she obviously saw what was happening before I grabbed the sheet but she looked carefully now to ensure she saw exactly what was happening, and for a moment her eyes lingered on Jack a moment as if she was.. inspecting him, "Will you be joining us Dr Dawkins?"
"Uhhhh yeah, yeah I will," he nodded sheepishly given he not only got caught half-naked by my her but also making out with the breasts of her naked daughter, 
"Good, well I'll be off then," She smiled leaving the room and shutting the door behind her, 
"she saw us?"
"Yeah, she definitely saw us." I sighed, "Fuck." 
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doveypink · 1 year
Text
lover’s oath [millions knives | naï]
summary: knives finds you and everything has changed. word count: 1.2k warnings: side character death, mc is an abuse victim, general blood/violence, not quite fluff not quite angst but a secret third thing, minor biblical imagery/references. a/n: this is mostly a character study bcus i’m not sure how to write knives but i desperately want to kiss him. lmk what you all think!
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The day you heard Knives play the piano was the day you finally believed in God.
Your small town was brought to dust upon his arrival to steal the plant — not that you cared, anyway. You were stuck with your blubbering uncle, a man who traded his brains for liquor and regularly beat you half to death for running your mouth. All the while, the townsfolk turned a blind eye to you, even when you begged them for help. Their guilty looks did nothing to ease your suffering; all you wanted was for someone to protect you for once in your life.
When the town went to ruins, you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. If Knives didn’t kill you, you would have died by your uncle’s hand anyway. There was no point in fighting it. You sat in the corner of the house by the window, waiting for the inevitable moment to come where you’d be sliced apart like your neighbors.
Suddenly, the door slammed open as your uncle ran in. He’s sweating, clamoring through the house in search of something. “Where is it?” he yells, turning to you. “Where the fuck is my gun?”
You shrug apathetically and he snaps, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Did you take it? Fucking answer me!”
He shakes you and shoves you into a mirror; it shatters, slicing the skin of your back. You drop to your knees and wince at the pain, watching your uncle rifle through a drawer. He swears under his breath while he searches, and in the meantime, you eye a large shard of glass on the floor by your feet. Glancing between him and the shard, you slowly retrieve it, feeling the sharp edges under your palm. You rise to your feet, unseen by your uncle, and quietly step forward until you’re behind him. The mirror reflects a sliver of light as you raise it above your head. Your uncle senses you and stops his movement. “What the hell are you—?”
Before he can finish, the glass penetrates the skin of his throat. Blood spurts out of the wound and he chokes on his words. He reaches behind himself to swat at you, but you only see red; you move without thinking in a way you’ve only ever dreamed about, stabbing until your arms are weak and tired.
By the time your mind catches up with you, you realize that you’re on the floor now, covered in your uncle’s blood, his mangled body next to you. The shard of glass stays in your hands — you don’t dare to move an inch.
It’s only then, of course, that Knives finally finds you — and oh, what a joy he felt seeing yet another example of how barbaric humans can be.
And then, he notices that you’re shaking. You’re gripping the glass tight enough that it’s cutting the soft skin of your palms now, but it doesn’t seem to alert you. Even Knives’ sudden presence hasn’t pulled you from whatever trance you’re in. After a beat of silence, he simply asks: “Did you do this?”
You snap out of it then, turning your head slowly to the man before you. Upon taking in his appearance — pristine and dressed all in white, such a contrast from your blood-stained clothes — you nearly gasp. With a start, you wonder if he must be one of those angels that the townspeople always talked about. You weren’t religious like them, given that there clearly wasn’t a god on your side, but the presence of this man is so far beyond anything you’ve ever known. His presence commands you; it pulls you in just like the melody you heard right when the chaos in your town began.
When you finally speak, your voice is just above a whisper, as though speaking any louder would disturb him: “Yes. It was me.”
“Why?” he asks, genuinely intrigued.
You don’t pull your eyes away when you respond: “He hurt me. I hated him. I couldn’t stop myself.” You swallow, breathing heavy. “He didn’t deserve to live. He would have killed me.”
The man watches you silently for a moment, examining you. Then, with a tenderness that surprises you, he reaches his hand towards your cheek, wiping away your tears. You weren’t even aware that you were crying; unconsciously, you melt into his touch, savoring the affection.
He smiles, amused, and leans forward to speak to you. “What of the others? Have you any sympathy for them?”
“No,” you answer honestly. “They never cared for me. Why should I care for them?”
Satisfied, Knives lets out a chuckle, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I see… How would you like to come with me?”
You stare at him in complete awe. “Come… with you? You won’t kill me?”
“Oh, no,” Knives replies, dropping to your level. His free hand moves to your other cheek, and he gazes at you adoringly. “I have much bigger plans for you. I won’t discard you like the others. You’re perfect.”
Perfect, he says. One word and that’s all it takes for you to say yes, of course, to see him smile down at you again. When you wobble upon trying to stand, he picks you up effortlessly, carrying you against his chest. You curl into him, watching as your town turns into a speck in the distance. A giddiness rises in your chest, warm and eager, as you head towards your new home.
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You find Knives at the piano, plucking a dramatic melody into the keys; the same one he played before he found you. You watch from the doorway until he finally stops. “No need to hover,” he says without turning to you.
Walking towards him, you reply, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Hmph. A pointless concern.” Knives finally faces you, a small smile on his face. “Sit.”
You follow his instruction, taking your place on the bench beside him. “Play the one I like. The sad one.”
He eyes you and purses his lips slightly. “I suppose I can. But I’ll need your help.”
“Of course,” you grin, positioning your hands over the keys.
A somber melody plays, the notes beginning slow and thoughtful before building into a more longing theme. Knives takes the lead while you dance along the keys on your side, joining in his rhythm. The melody softens again, slowing down as it nears its finale. Your hands wander closer to Knives’, ending with a final note as your fingers brush against his.
Both of your hands linger for a moment before Knives finally reaches to place his hand under your chin. He tilts your face slightly upwards, his face close to your own. “Lover’s Oath,” he says.
You blink, confused. “Hm?”
“Lover’s Oath,” he repeats. “That’s the name of the piece.”
You raise your eyebrows at him. “I never knew its name. I was just drawn to it, like—”
“Like it was meant for us,” he finishes. You nod, and he presses his forehead to yours. “Such a human thing to think…”
Your lips twitch upwards and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I suppose that’s true.”
Knives pulls you in for a proper kiss, hungry and possessive. His touch burns you, but you crave it. You crave the cold hands that soothe you when you get caught up in his flames. It’s the closest thing to love you could ever have, and you know he feels the same. When Knives pulls away, he sighs before speaking. “Make an oath to me. Promise to stay by my side.”
With confidence, you breathlessly reply: “I will. I always will.”
It was the least you could do for your god.
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thefrontofmymind · 2 years
Text
No More Hiding; Request (Joseph Quinn x costar!Reader)
REQUEST: Can you make a joe quinn x reader where at the st4 premiere the reader is sweet with the kids like millies sister and she dsnces with her and also with the kids of the cast even when if yhey are grown upd now and he loves you even more snd wants to have kids so at home he talks about kids and the reader always wanted them so they try for months and when they are promotijg st4 with jamie the interviewer notices the belly and thdy announce it? :) - @kellysimagines
a/n: so this changed,,, a lot? when i was writing it,,, sorry idk how that happened but i had an idea and ran with it, hope that's all good! any feedback is welcome, as always. kisses!
SYNOPSIS: Joe and costar!Reader are having a baby, but it's still quite early. Luckily the one, the only, Jamie Campbell Bower is a great secret-keeper
WARNINGS: pregnant reader, the start of a panic attack, that's basically it
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It was a very exciting night, the world premiere of Stranger Things 4. Everyone in the cast was together on the red carpet–and had been for about an hour now–doing interviews and posing for photos–and you were beginning to get very tired. Though you had a good reason–you were about twelve weeks pregnant, and it takes a lot out of a person to have to grow a whole new body inside of them.
You stood next to your partner, Joe, with Charlie on the other side of you as you all posed for a big group photo. You tried not to let your fatigue and nausea show on your face, but Joe could tell, having seen the look on your face quite frequently for the last couple months.
“You alright?” he whispered, sneaking a glance at you.
“Yeah, just feel like I’m going to be sick,” you whispered back to him. You hadn’t told anyone apart from your close family yet, you wanted to wait as long as you could–you always preferred privacy in your relationship, and this pregnancy wasn’t any exception.
Joe intertwined his fingers in yours, hidden from the view of the cameras. “I think we’re almost done, love.”
And you were; within minutes, all the photographers crowded in front of you were satisfied with their shots, and you were being directed inside the reception hall that the screening of the first two episodes would take place in. There were drinks and nibbly bits inside while you waited, though you had a feeling that if anything went into your stomach it would just come right back up again, and of course, you couldn’t have a drink–Joe was also not drinking out of solidarity, knowing you already missed having your vodka sodas only a third of the way through your pregnancy.
Everyone still mingled before taking their seats, though you and Joe mostly kept to yourselves in a corner, until Jamie sauntered over to you, a big smile across his face. The three of you grew quite close over the many months making the season–Joe and Jamie bonded very quickly, and with you and Joe together, you were brought along with it all.
“And how are these lovebirds going?” he asked, settling at the cocktail table you were standing at. He looked at the tabletop with a furrow in his brow. “Not drinking tonight, guys? Not like the both of you!”
You let out a nervous laugh, as Joe put a hand on your back, feeling your anxiety as well. During the handful of times the three of you went out for dinner, you’d been known to love a good drink or two or five, so it was definitely an adjustment having to go cold-turkey, and apparently it was noticeable.
You didn’t know what to say for a second, there was an awkward silence between the three of you. You looked to Joe, who was looking right back at you. You had a moment of silent communication, Jamie just watching your non-verbal conversation.
“I’m-I’m,” you stuttered. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby!” 
Immediately Jamie lunged forward to engulf you in a hug. “Congrats?” he asked, just to be sure, to which you and Joe both nodded enthusiastically. “Congrats! Oh my god!”
He parted from you and gave Joe a hug too, complete with a couple hearty pats on the back, the ‘lad side’ of both of them coming out.
“It’s still pretty early so we’re not really telling many people yet…” Joe told him, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“No worries, mum’s the word-literally, I suppose!” Jamie joked. “Oh, I’m so excited for you two! Are you still coming to Brazil?”
Netflix was sending the three of you to Sao Paulo for a few days in the coming weeks to do some interviews over there–the higher-ups figured it was a good decision when they found out just how much time you’d all been spending together.
“Of course!” you almost yelled over the chatter of the rest of the room. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, might even have a bump by then!”
Without a moment’s notice, you were all called to your seats to continue the rest of your night. You were glad to be sitting, since your feet had begun to swell–one of the joys you knew was just beginning.
And it was, by the time you and Joe were sat in business class on a flight from London to Sao Paulo, you swore your feet and hands were almost double the size they were just the week beforehand, however you’d finally gotten out of the ‘exhausted and nauseous all the time’ phase, and were in the ‘strong hair and nails and finally have that pregnancy glow everyone goes on about’ phase.
You tried to recline your seat as much as you could to get some rest–much more than you would’ve been able to in economy class–but you were still uncomfortable. The baby had begun to move in the past few weeks, and as much as it gave you butterflies every time you felt movement in your abdomen, it was beginning to get old when you just wanted some rest for Pete’s sake!
Joe was in the seat next to your’s, headphones on, watching some movie he’d downloaded for the flight, but you could see his gaze fall to your bump–which was now getting rather impossible to hide–every few minutes. You signalled to him to take off his headphones, which he did, swivelling slightly in his seat to face you as best he could, with a questioning look on his face.
“I can’t sleep,” you said in a hushed tone, to not disturb the rest of the plane. “Babe keeps moving and I can’t get comfortable.”
Joe grabbed your hand with one of his, placing his other hand on your bump–slowly rubbing small circles. He shuffled down a little so his face was level with your stomach.
“Hey kid, you have to let your mum sleep, alright?” he whispered, making you giggle. He looked back up at you. “How about when we get to the hotel, I run you a bath and make it all relaxing and me and Jamie will go out and meet fans so they don’t bother you, hmm?”
He always knew what you needed–and he was being extra attentive during your pregnancy, you don’t think in the past four months you’d know about your pregnancy, you’d opened a car door for yourself, or pulled out your own chair, or carried any heavy bags. He was simply being the perfect future dad, and it made you so excited to see what he would be like when the baby was born.
The rest of your flight didn’t go great–you didn’t manage to get a wink of rest during the entire eleven and a half hours you were in the air–but Joe kept to his promise and after an hour of customs and immigration, then travelling to your hotel and checking in, he’d drawn you a warm bubble bath, dimmed the lights, and let you relax.
“Jamie’s just gotten here so I’m going downstairs,” Joe said to you, reading a text on his phone. “Are you gonna be alright by yourself?”
“Yes, Joe,” you answered, floating in what felt like a rose-scented cocoon. “I’m pregnant, not three years old.”
Joe just laughed, giving you a quick peck, before leaving with his phone, wallet, and one of the room keys. You didn’t do much for the rest of the afternoon, though you did manage to finally get a quick nap in. You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but when you woke, Joe was back and you noticed the sun was beginning to set, so it had been a couple hours, at least.
“Hi, darling,” Joe said in a soft voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you groaned as you stretched under the covers. “Still a bit tired but better. How’s Jamie?”
“He’s good…good,” Joe was still wearing the jeans and white button-up he’d changed into when you’d finally gotten to the hotel room. “He wanted to go out for dinner, but I said I’d leave it up to you, see how you’re feeling. We were just thinking the restaurant in the lobby if you’re feeling alright?”
You hadn’t eaten since you were on the plane, and even then that could barely count as a meal–you did feel a sort of ache in your stomach, and you figured you could go out.
“That sounds good, just give me like twenty minutes to get ready…” You got out from under the covers of the bed, stretching again once you were standing, before going to your suitcase which laid on the floor, to look for an outfit.
“I’ll let him know to meet us in twenty in the lobby,” Joe said with a smile.
You quickly got dressed–just onto something comfortable that would keep you cool enough in the humidity–before you made your way down the hotel lobby with Joe, hands swinging in between you as you walked. It wasn’t hard to spot Jamie standing out near the doors of the ‘restaurant front’–with how tall and lanky he was, not to mention the fact that he was dressed head-to-toe in all black–a very ‘him’ look.
He noticed you and Joe as you slowly made your way over to him, meeting you halfway to engulf you in a big, bear hug.
“Hello, dear!” he exclaimed with a big smile, mid-hug, before pulling away. “Look at you! You’re practically glowing!”
“‘ts good to see you too!” you said, feeling a warmth creeping up your neck at the compliment–Jamie was always full of them, and he never hesitated to let someone know when they looked great. “‘ve even got a bump now!”
You placed an arm underneath the small bump on your abdomen to highlight it, to which Jamie gasped before placing a hand on you–but not after looking to you with a questioning look–asking if he could touch you.
“You two are gonna be parents, my goodness!” Jamie laughed, as you and Joe did too.
“Shall we then?” Joe asked, pointing to the restaurant with his one free hand–your’s still holding his other one in a vice-like grip, as usual.
The rest of the night was great–filled with good food and lots of laughs, before your crashed at the end of the night in the fluffy bed you’d be calling your’s for the next few days, in the arms of the man that you loved the most in the entire world.
It was an early start the next morning, being whisked away in the wee hours of the morning to get hair and makeup done, as well as to organise an outfit for your day chocked full of interviews with Joe and Jamie. The stylist Netflix had sent to Brazil with you–Sarah–had a room with a rack full of different options for you to choose from, but you were still nervous about the whole ordeal.
You’d let it slip to her that you’d need some room in the belly region, and she seemed to understand at the time, but now as you looked at the different outfits, all of them looked tight-fitting and it unnerved you that you’d have to soon share a very private part of your life with the world, seemingly against your will.
It was all getting too much, you couldn’t breath, and the room was starting to spin. As quick as you could, you stepped out into the hallway outside, phone in hand and already dialling Joe’s number, even though he was in the same building as you, getting ready in a room just down the hall.
“Love? What’s up?” he asked as he answered the phone, a level of concern in his voice that you’d never heard before.
“I’m just-” there was a lump in your throat that you had to struggle against, that you didn’t know was there at first, you voice came out in a hushed whisper. “I’m not sure I’m ready to tell everyone about the baby, it’s too nerve wracking.”
“Oh, darling…” Joe started as he heard the beginnings of sobs waver in your voice. “We don’t have to yet if you don’t want to, but I think we’re going to have to eventually right? And we’re in Brazil of all places! How fun is that party tonight going to be if we don’t have to keep this big secret, hey?”
You thought for a moment, letting out a sigh. He was right–the story alone of telling the world about the family you were making in Brazil would be pretty cool….
“No more hiding,” was all you said to him.
“There we go!” he jokingly cheered, making you laugh and easing your worries. “I’m just about ready so can I come see you?”
“Yeah, I still need to get dressed, but I guess you could come hang out with us…” you answered, absentmindedly rubbing your bump–a habit you’d only noticed you’d picked up in the past week or so.
Joe didn’t even answer you, just hung up the phone and all but sprinted down the short hallway to where you were standing. He also didn’t say hello, just pulled you to him, arms over your shoulders as he placed a kiss against your cheek–that cheeky grin of his on full display.
In a matter of about thirty minutes, you’d gotten ready, and yourself and Joe were sat in your seats, waiting for Jamie ‘the drama queen’ to finish getting ready so he could join you. You didn’t have to wait long, you amused yourself by chatting with your boyfriend.
“I think the babe’s a girl…” he said, almost out of the blue, looking at you with wide eyes and an equally wide grin.
“You think?” you questioned. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know… I just get a vibe!” Joe laughed. “But I’d be happy with a boy! Just want a baby that’s happy and healthy…”
You hadn’t thought too much about it yet, whether you were carrying a boy or a girl–it was just one and ultrasounds made sure of that, and all your current tests came back showing they baby was healthy and growing exactly as they should be, which is all that concerned you for the moment.
“Hello, hello?” you heard a voice call out–Jamie–as he entered the room, wearing sunglasses with a hot coffee in hand. “Sorry, am I late?”
You quickly jumped out of your seat, as did Joe, to give Jamie a hug.
“Showing off the bambino today, huh?” Jamie asked as he took a look at your outfit. “Come on, give us a twirl, you two!”
You and Joe both jokingly spun around to show off your outfits to Jamie, the three of you laughing–it was good, to jake around after a stressful morning, the two Brits made you feel at ease in yourself.
“We’ve-uh-we’ve decided we’re going to start telling people about the babe,” Joe said, placing a hand around your back in on your opposite hip.
Jamie excitedly told mused congratulations–again to the both of you–giving you both a big hug each, before the three of you settled in your seats, about to start a big, new part of your life.
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sunshine-theseus · 5 months
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I’d Walk to You If I Had No Other Way | Deyna Castellanos x reader
Word Count: 1k Summary: Your girlfriend disappears on you, but she’ll always come home – this is by far not my best I’m sorry Warnings: angst, fluff Request by - @deynacastellonaswife
Having a best friend who spends three quarters of her year across the ocean and the last quarter playing for her international team is hard. I’ve known Deyna for nearly 17 years, having met when she pushed a boy who was bullying me in primary school, and being inseparable ever since.
I always knew Dey would become a professional footballer, she likes to deny it, but I knew. So when she got an offer to play at Atletico Madrid in 2020, I insisted she go. Our goodbye was when we first kissed.
Having a girlfriend who spends three quarters of her year across the ocean and the rest playing for her international team is considerably harder. After she finished her time in Madrid, she moved to Manchester, a great move for her career but hard to deal with. The time zones weren’t particularly excessive, but when she has training all day and ‘team bonding’, and I’m in class or doing assessments, it makes for difficulty trying to find a time to call or talk.
Which is why I’m sat awake at 11pm, waiting for her to finally call.
And at 12am.
I pass out before the clock reaches 1, body in a rather uncomfortable position as my laptop sits open beside me, blank screen with no sign of Deyna even trying to reach me. I think perhaps it’s just a one-time thing, she got too busy to make our (mostly) daily call. But then she misses the next one and a few more after that. I try calling her multiple times without an answer.
I eventually facetime Laia, who I met a few times when she and Dey played at Atletico together.
“What do you mean she hasn’t called? She always calls.” Laia questions over the phone as I stare once again at the screen of my laptop.
“She hasn’t called or answered one of my calls or texts in like 6 days. What am I supposed to do if she hasn’t answered my call in 6 days Laia?”
“I can talk to her if you’d like. Ask what she’s been up to?” I nod solemnly at the girl and thank her before we say our goodbyes.
I then proceed to not hear from either of them for a couple days after that. And then their international break comes, one I’d usually be excited for because Venezuela has no games which means Deyna can come home and hang out. But without hearing from her in over a week, I don’t expect to see her… ever again really.
So when it’s the middle of the day and I’m trying to work on my rather long psychology assignment, and my phone rings and I see Deyna’s contact, you can imagine my surprise. I spend so long contemplating whether to answer or not that the call just rings out. And when she starts calling again, I contemplate whether to be angry or act like she hasn’t ignored me for a week and a bit. Once again, the call rings out.
It’s the third time when I just pick it up.
“Hola bebé!” and that’s the final straw.
“Hola bebé?! You have no fucking right to just completely ignore me and avoid all contact with me for over a week and then just call me in the middle of an assignment and act like nothing is wrong! Where the fuck have you been!?” I scream down the phone.
“I know I know! I just- I wanted to surprise you by flying home early but my flight kept getting cancelled and I didn’t want to ruin it and I knew if we talked, I’d tell you.”
“That still doesn’t excuse you for ignoring me! You could have still answered texts or something! And then Laia disappeared?”
“I told her she couldn’t tell you and she is awfully horrible at keeping secrets.”
“Fine. So what? Did you get here?”
“No.” she lets out a disconcerted sigh before continuing.
“Manchester International fucking sucks. There aren’t any flights to Caracas for like another week.” I let out a sigh in return.
“It’s ok. We’ll find another time.” A silent tear slips down my cheek as we each say our goodbyes and I spend the rest of the day trying to distract myself from the impending loneliness I hadn’t realised I’d been feeling, previously covered up by the excitement of seeing Deyna.
~~~~~
The sun isn’t even breaching the horizon, the moon still high in the sky, when someone shakes me awake from my deep sleep. My eyes blink open and I don’t think much of it until I remember that I’m very much home alone.
I shoot up and flail my arm around trying to hit whoever it is that’s hiding in the dark. The light flicks on before I can start shouting as well.
“It’s me, it’s me!” My head snaps over to the person, only to see Deyna staring at me with wide eyes, her suitcase and bag propped up against the wall.
“W- what? How? I thought there weren’t any flights from Manchester.” I slip out of bed and wrap my arms around her.
“There weren’t any coming here. But there was a long ass one that stopped over in Paris for like 7 hours. My back is dead from trying to sleep in so many horrible positions.”
“You should have just waited another week. I don’t want you hurting yourself just to see me.” I pout up at her as I lead her to lay down in bed.
“I’d walk to you if I had no other way bebé.” She pecks me on the lips and pulls me in, my head resting on her chest with her arms tightly around me.
“You listened to Hey There Delilah on the way home huh?”
Deyna laughs and nods in confirmation and I giggle, pulling her closer to me and closing my eyes.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you for so long. I really didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“It’s worth it now you’re here.”
We talk and cuddle and kiss until the sun peaks above the mountains, the stars fade from the sky and we fall asleep, finally in each other’s arms again. Where we belong.
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