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#and i was so stuck in my head and socially anxious and i feel like those years of school rly shaped who i am now ect
positivelyadhd · 1 month
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i have been reading through the diary I kept from ages 14-17 and realising how helpful it can be to keep a record of how you're feeling at different moments.
not only is it helpful to write down and process how your feeling and give yourself time to truly think about it, it's nice to have something to look back on. to not just remember how you felt about a certain situation but to actually have yourself from that time tell you.
and also, from an adhd perspective, it's really lovely to have reminders of things I'd almost entirely forgotten. it's easy to think that your life right now isn't interesting, but in 5 years time? to know what songs you were listening to or book you were reading or even that Thing that you were so worried about but now you can't even remember the details. it's nice to have a physical reminder that time passes and things really can get better.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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#apologies for being whiny yet again but alas humans r social creatures and i have no desire to interact with physical ppl lmao#its just that im so so tired. ive been working on this manuscript for the last 2 weeks and i hate it so much. so i spend all week like i#cant wait for the weekend when i can avoid this. but my obsessive brain must have something to get obsessive abt and if its not work then#its something else and rn i can feel it creeping into my drawing. like i just want to draw all the time. more and more and more. i can feel#the goalpost shifting on what's qualities as acceptable and on one hand i feel like ive gotten a lot better in a short period of time but#but also it means i sit there for like 6hrs coloring until my legs hurt and ive wasted so much time and i spend hours filpping back and#forth. unable to commit to drawing any one thing. which is very annoying. idk its just exhausting bc all i can think abt is all the things#i should be doing instead but im stuck there until i can get x thing done#and i put so much pressure on the time i have to draw that most of the time im too paralyzed to do anything#bc executive dysfunction annoyingness. and my brain makes me stay up so late and wake up so early. im just tired#so im making myself miserable in all aspects of life. like no. stop that. pls#its just this like crazy frantic anxious energy constantly spinning in my chest#and its like oh u should make friends or something so u can get out of ur own head but like idk ppl are exhausting and i dont like#listening to myself talk. i find it personally annoying lol. i feel like some sort of alien when i go to lab meetings. like i see what's#happening and i understand the structure but like in a synical way. like im not reacting how im supposed to. the interactions dont make me#feel anything. i feel the same way when i go to the zoo or something. like im supposed to feel something but its not there. im forming#memories but then when i hear ppl reminisce abt it. its like oh yea i guess that did happen. i dont have the fond memories u seem to have.#i dont feel anything abt it. so then whats the point of doing things like that? its just a waste of time and money if im not gonna enjoy it#my emotions seem to shift between light misery and an obsessive almost manic focus. so ill smile abt thing but something deep in my chest#feels wrong. weird emotional disonace. agh. idk its just annoying and ive gotta sort myself out b4 i have to take a like 18hr car ride with#my boss in like 3 weeks or something. blah! i should just sleep more. that would prob help#unrelated#in a lab meeting once i got asked what i do to relax and im like. i dont. and my boss was like what abt drawing?#and i was like ahah i like to draw but im so obsessive abt it that its something i have to do#so its not so much fun as it is stressful so yeah i dont relax
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moonhoures · 7 months
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Video Games
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🕷️ kinktober — day 1: angry / makeup sex 🕸️
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pairing: jay (enhypen) + reader (g/n)
genre: non-idol!au, mild angst, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, pet name: ‘baby’ (for reader), unprotected sex, creampie
word count: ~1.9k
synopsis: jay is seemingly put in the doghouse after forgetting to pick you up from work like he promised. but there are some ways he can earn your forgiveness . . .
a/n: this is not as ‘angry’ as you’re probably picturing, but hopefully you guys like it nonetheless 😅 enjoy!
posted: october 1, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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One thing. You asked him to remember one thing. “Don’t forget, I need you to pick me up from work at eight!” You told him twice and reminded him once more before you walked out of the apartment to catch a bus. Jay nodded each time, even going as far to say “Seriously, ________, I’m not a kid. I’ll remember” when you reminded him the last time.
Yet, you stood at the front door of your job at 8:17 p.m, looking and feeling stupid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, and your face was stuck in an immovable scowl. You knew you should’ve taken your coworker’s offer to drive you home, but you had put your faith in your boyfriend to do what you asked of him. How silly of you.
You texted and called him multiple times before giving up; he wasn’t answering and he probably wasn’t going to any time soon. I swear if he’s playing those damn video games, you thought with a bite of aggravation. You loved your boyfriend to the moon and back, but if there’s one thing you didn’t like about him it was how attached to his games he got. He was majorly competitive, to the point it was difficult to get him off of the console, especially when he was close to winning whatever dumb game he was playing. And heaven forbid he’s playing with his friends who only encourage his habit even further.
After ten more minutes you went ahead and walked down the street to the bus stop. Your nerves were on edge and your head was on a swivel. You couldn’t help but curse Jay in your head for putting you in this position and making you so anxious. Since your car was in the shop, you had been picking up rides from him and your coworker. You wanted to avoid taking the bus at night at all cost, which is exactly why you nagged your boyfriend to pick you up tonight.
When you finally made it home, the door flung open without care, dinging against the door stopper just in front of the wall. It rattled a bit; you had hoped he would hear it and be startled. But when you walked through the living room, you were even more pissed to see him on the game with his head set on, his phone turned upside down on the table in front of him. Of course he didn’t get my texts and calls, he couldn’t see or hear them.
You scoffed, not giving him a second look as you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut. You vaguely heard him say “Hey, baby” as you got in the hallway.
You decided to run a bath to cool off before you went off on him and said some things you would regret. In the mean time Jay had found it odd you didn’t answer him, his brows knitting together. He wondered why you were in such a weird mood, but figured you might’ve just had a bad day. He shrugged and reached for his phone to check the time. Maybe I’ll have time for one more match, he thought. The screen of his phone lit up when he flipped it over, several missed notifications taking up the entire screen. Some social media notifications were interrupted by five missed texts and seven missed calls from you. Each text asking where he was, how long he would be, had he forgotten? His heart sank into his stomach.
“Shit.”
Jay tore off his headset and quickly logged out of the game, running to your bedroom door. His hand shifted the door knob but was met by resistance when he tried to open it. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. His knuckles tapped against the hard surface a few times, “Baby, open the door. I’m so sorry I forgot to pick you up.”
On the other side of the door, you ignored him, turning off the running water in the bath tub before walking back in the room to get some pajamas.
“________, please open the door. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up,” he continued, voice dripping with sincerity, “I know you told me multiple times, and you don’t have to forgive me. But please just let me apologize to you. I don’t want you to go to bed upset.”
You paused at your dresser. Your determination to stay mad at him was slipping. But your pettiness wasn’t, “Did you win?”
Jay arched an eyebrow in confusion, “Huh?”
“Your game. Did you win? It must’ve been a really important match for you to forget about me.”
Jay let out a groan of annoyance, not so much with you but with himself, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Really, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I’ll do all the chores this weekend. I’ll cook your favorite dinner for you. I won’t play my games tomorrow.”
He heard your scoff from the hallway, practically heard your eye roll, too.
“I won’t play my games for a week,” he corrected himself, “A month even. Whatever it takes to get you to talk to me.”
His heart pounded as it grew uncomfortably quiet. He didn’t even hear your soft footsteps, so his eyes became wide when the door in front of him opened. You stood in front of him in just your robe, your disscontempt etched into your face. If looks could kill, he wondered if he would be six feet under already.
“I told you three times, Jay.”
“I know.”
He frowned, looking more ashamed than you had ever seen him. You secretly wished you didn’t love him so much. It made it harder to be upset with him. You wanted him to feel bad, at least for tonight.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“I deserve that,” he agreed.
“And I’m gonna hold you to those promises,” you continued, “No games for two weeks.”
He was shocked that you had downsized the punishment from the month he suggested, but he didn’t show his surprise in case you took it back, “Okay.”
Your hardened stare lingered on him a little longer, and he grew nervous for what would come out of your mouth next. Little did he know you were actually thinking about how cute he looked. How mad you were at yourself for finding him so attractive at a time like this. Fuck you for being so hot, you thought, as if he could hear your thoughts.
“Are we good now?” he asked timidly. His hand cautiously reached up to cup your cheek in a sign of truce.
“You’ll have to earn your way back into my good graces,” you cracked a small smile.
“I’ll do anything,” he repeated, stepping closer to rest his hands on your waist. Your perfume lingered on your robe, filling his nose with the sweet, familiar fragrance that made his heart skip a beat.
“Anything?”
He nodded at your question, a smirk creeping onto his lips. If this was going in the direction he was thinking, then he was about to be a very happy man. His heartbeat accelerated as your hands found purchase on his chest, your palms flat over his pecs. Your eyes lingered on the small sliver of his collarbone that was exposed by the neckline of his t-shirt. When your gaze met his, there was a clear intention behind them that sent blood rushing to Jay’s loins.
Neither of you said anything as you tugged him into the bedroom and closed the door. In a matter of minutes you were on the bed, legs spread to make room for your boyfriend’s hips. Your robe was untied and thrown open as he slathered wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest. Your hand was buried in his hair, pulling lightly on it to keep him where you wanted him.
“You’re gonna fuck me exactly how I want,” you panted, hips already bucking up against his clothed crotch. He moaned in affirmation, the vibrations tickling your nipple that was in his mouth.
“Gonna give me the best orgasm ever,” you added, looking down to see his eyes closed as he laved at your collarbone. They opened to look you in the eye as he came back face-to-face.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he assured you, nodding as he connected your lips with his once again.
Skin-on-skin contact and heavy breaths filled the room shortly after. Jay’s clothes were quickly discarded and he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your fingers gripped his back, loving the way you could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. He tried to hold back low grunts as your ankles locked around his waist, causing him to thrust deeper into you. He felt anchored down, but in the best possible way. This position was as close to paradise as he would probably ever get.
“Faster, Jay,” you breathed out, fingernails digging into his skin. He gritted his teeth and fastened his pace as much as he could.
“Fuck,” you cursed, legs tightening around him even more, “Jay, faster!”
“Baby, I’m trying,” he practically whimpered, his thrusts getting a little quicker, but also sloppier. He was losing stamina. You knew he was trying his best, you could just tell. You thought about giving him some slack, but then you remembered how you two got in this position in the first place. You weren’t going to go easy on him at all; he didn’t deserve it.
“Not trying hard enough,” you sighed in annoyance, moving your hips up against his thrusts for more stimulation, “You’re so annoying.”
“So suddenly?” he scoffed out a small laugh, looking at you incredulously. He knew you well enough to know you weren’t being completely serious. You were just letting out your aggression; he didn’t take it to heart.
“Y-yeah,” you panted, wincing when his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that felt a little too good, “You need to listen to me.”
He nodded, his arms shaking a bit from the energy was exerting trying to please you and keep himself stable, “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”
“Promise?”
In that moment his gaze met yours, mere inches apart. Your breaths mingled between you, chests almost pressed against each other. He could tell you were getting close when he felt you growing tight around his dick. You always looked so beautiful like this—unraveling under him, by his own doing.
“Promise,” he sealed his words with a kiss against your lips, a low growl forming in his throat when you arms wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close to you. Your bodies pressed together like this, he could feel all of you; it drove him insane, “Now, cum for me.”
You were already well on your way when he spoke. Your legs constricted his lower body before growing slack at his sides. Your arms loosely circle him, keeping him close during the aftershocks of your orgasm. He came not long after, keeping slow, shallow thrusts until he came to a halt. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, simply cherishing the proximity to you.
“Can I join you for your bath?” he asked after your breaths had both settled back into their normal inflections.
“Sure, but the water’s probably cold by now. We’ll need to refill it,” your voice was sweet in answering him, as if any other answer would be ridiculous. Your next sentence, however, proved to humble him, “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight, though.”
Jay cracked a smile, nodding in agreement as he helped you off the bed, “Understood.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedrswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
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Love Of My Life
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5
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Masterlist // Series Masterlist
Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.
a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content
1. something old
“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”
You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.
So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?
Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.
She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”
She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.
By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?
You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.
Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”
You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.
2. something new
Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.
“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.
You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.
“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”
You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.
Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.
His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.
“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”
He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.
“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”
Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.
“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”
“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.
Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”
He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.
Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.
“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.
“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.
“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.
You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.
“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.
“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.
“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.
She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.
You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.
“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.
“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.
She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.
“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”
You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.
“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”
Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”
3. something borrowed
You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.
He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”
You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.
“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.
A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”
His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.
You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”
He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”
“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”
After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.
By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.
You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.
He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.
Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.
4. something blue
Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.
“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.
Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”
“Sounds pretty.”
“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”
“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”
“I have ideas,” he says.
“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”
Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.
You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”
You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.
“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”
You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.
The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.
“Too boring,” he says about one.
“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.
He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”
It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.
“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”
Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.
He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.
“What?” You ask, softly.
“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”
You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.
And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.
You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.
5. and a sixpence in your shoe
You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.
Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.
“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.
You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”
“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.
He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.
“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.
He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”
You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.
“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”
“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.
“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.
Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.
“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”
He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.
“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”
You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.
“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”
“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”
There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.
You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.
“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“
Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”
You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.
You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.
Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”
You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.
The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. Christian, Geri, and GP are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.
You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.
“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”
You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”
She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”
She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.
“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”
“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“
“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”
Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.
“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.
But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.
The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.
He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.
“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”
Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.
“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”
God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.
“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”
Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.
When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.
…..
While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.
You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.
You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.
“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”
“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”
He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…
You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
You're as warm as a glass of brandy
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time
You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.
“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.
He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.
…..
When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.
You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.
He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.
You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”
He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”
You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”
You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.
“Should we go dance?” He asks.
You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”
The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.
You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.
By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.
“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.
You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”
He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.
You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.
He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.
When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.
You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.
But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.
“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.
“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.
“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“
“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”
You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”
“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”
You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”
Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“
“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”
“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.
…..
You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.
“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.
“Always,” he’d answered.
You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.
That sounds pretty perfect.
a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷
ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1
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sweaterweatherever · 1 year
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hello how are you?, we hear a lot about how much the reader loves xavier's hands, his fingers, his hair down to his full lips (yes he is perfect ) but could you write how much the reader wants to mark that mesmerizing adam's apple that went up and down every time he swallowed his saliva or spoke to you.
Kindness (Xavier Thorpe x reader)
Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x AFAB reader. 
Warnings: Vaginal unprotected sex. Possessiveness. Kind of insecure Xavier. AGED UP CHARACTERS
Requested: Yes. I have no clue what I just wrote, but I hope you like it, anon. I tried my best. Sorry it's short. I could have posted it later but I couldn't resist.
A/N: I mean….. I get it. Even I look at this man’s neck and feel the urge to kiss it, and I am not one for hickies. 
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You noticed for the first time when you ended up stuck volunteering at the Weathervane. Xavier and Tyler spend the entire morning glaring at each other, which you get from Xavier, but find it a bit rude from Tyler, considering he assaulted the boy, and now acts like nothing happened. 
You had never looked much at Xavier, anyway. You were classmates and friendly enough, but he was Bianca’s and everyone knew it. He might be pretty, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. You weren’t touching that with a ten-foot pole if you could help it.
Life had a way of teaching you lessons, and it was never the easy way. That was what you had learned during your short stay at Nevermore. One act of kindness and you were fucked. You had just wanted to cheer Xavier up because he was moping around the Weathervane with a face that was more appropriate for a funeral. You were unable to stand it, this moping puppy routine. When it was your turn to man the machines, you slid him an espresso cup filled with leftover hot chocolate from an order, being careful, so Tyler didn’t catch on. 
“Drink it fast.” You smiled at him. “Before the boss man over there catches us slacking.” 
“Thank you.” Xavier looked at you, a hint of a smile starting to form on his lips. He had a sweet tooth, it appeared, and it didn't take a lot to make him happy if this was how he was reacting. You smiled even more brightly.
 Xavier took the cup like a shot, throwing his head back, and you watched bewitched as his throat moved when he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion, that pale neck almost glistening under the harsh light. 
You dropped your gaze, feeling like a perv for fixating so much on it, and took the cup back from him without allowing him to thank you. In a perfect life, in the one you are not awkward or socially anxious, you say something witty and he laughs. But this is not it, and so, you fled towards the coffee machine once more. 
Xavier seems captivated by that one gesture of kindness. Maybe he was never shown much of it. You think it must be hard to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it, until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like, but never quite getting it.  You have heard the rumors, of course. How he is after Wednesday Addams, how he would do anything to get her to smile at him. The same he was with Bianca, the same how he might end up being with every girl who shows him a modicum of human decency. 
He turns yours not too long after that. All it takes is some cleverly placed smiles and kindness, the real one. And maybe Xavier notices the way your eyes linger on his neck every time he drinks from a bottle, every time he swallows a little, throat dry because he gets to have you, in any way he wants to. It’s his every wish come true because he might be willing to do anything for your smile, but you are willing to give him anything just so he can tell someone has.
It goes something like this. Your first times are all awkward. The first kiss, a bumping of noses that happens too fast because Xavier gets nervous he is making you uncomfortable and pulls away. First date? Xavier gets arrested. The first make out session? Gets interrupted by a teacher because don’t you see we need to do headcounts after the battle? The time you finally get to kiss his beautiful neck? You get interrupted by your roommate. Not this one, though. 
Xavier bottoms out, holding still, pubic bone pressing against your clit. You have your eyes firmly focused on his neck, feeling the urge to bite it when he swallows, eyes firmly closed and focusing on his breathing just to let you adjust to the intrusion. 
“Have you done this before?” Xavier asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You look at him like a deer trapped in the headlights. You don’t dare move, too devastated by the way he is cradling you in his arms gently. If you could, you would stay in this moment forever. Even if you can't, you know it's already imprinted in your brain along with your favorite memories. 
“Yeah.” You breathe out, slowly. “You can move, you know? I won’t break.”
That’s all Xavier needed. He slipped out and slammed back in, making you shout. You never took him for someone this passionate, this rough.
“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, eyes closed in the sweetest form of torture. Another thrust, deeper this time. Your legs tightened around his waist, hands coming to grab his hair and pull him for a kiss. You moaned and felt him smile into the kiss. “I want to be yours. To be the only one.” Xavier whined, without pulling away from your lips, so the words came out all jumbled and messy. You could tell what he meant, even if Xavier was too afraid to voice it. He wanted to be yours, yes, but he also wanted to call you his.
“Oh, baby…” You nuzzled his jaw, feeling his breath hitch. “You already are. And I’m yours…” A particularly hard thrust at that, making your breath falter, making you gasp and grab eagerly at his biceps. “Yours in every way that matters. You are the only one that matters.” 
“Show it to me.” Desperate, pleading. Prove it to me, that’s what he meant, but Xavier would never say that. He wouldn’t dare speak it aloud, afraid of scaring you. 
“Come here.” You said to him, pulling him down until you were flat on your back and Xavier was bracing on his forearms on top of you. That perfect neck, there for you to mark him. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, slowly going down. Xavier kept thrusting into you, balls slapping against your skin with a sound that was obscene to hear, sweaty chest sliding against yours, sloppy, messy, like he wanted to fuck you senseless, watch his seed drip down your legs, erase the touch of whoever was there before. Erase whatever trace, whatever doubt, that could remain. 
You get bolder, too. Every thrust was hitting the right spot, coarse pubic hair rubbing against your clit in delicious friction. You are close, you can feel it. But you can’t let go without reassuring Xavier and giving yourself a little treat too. Your kisses turn open-mouthed, sucking at the skin on his throat. It has to be painful, you know hickies are. But Xavier doesn’t pull away, he just offers more of his neck to you. Your heart beats so loud on your chest, you worry he can hear it over the harsh thump of your pulse in your ears. He needs this, and so do you. You had wanted to ruin that perfect neck since the first time you talked to him, and ruin it is what you will do. 
You keep sucking at his throat, his neck, his nape, his shoulders. Any place you can reach, you mark. And by the time he thrusts, almost rabbit fast, one, two, four times, you bite down the side of his neck, hard. Hard enough to leave marks, hard enough to leave an imprint of teeth blossoming in a chiaroscuro of blues, purples, and ivory. Xavier comes, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself finally to chase the pleasure for pleasure's sake. 
It doesn't take long after that. His hand goes down, rubbing againt your clit. He must be overstimulated, being squeezed between your walls the way he is. Once again, he doesn't pull away. Instead, Xavier muffles your cries with a kiss, and when you pull apart, he looks ruined. But that’s okay. Because sometimes, ruining someone can be a kindness in itself. 
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m-arkmywords · 11 months
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Strawberry Sorbet
pairing: mark x reader
genre: plug!mark, we have graduated from stoner!mark to plug!mark thanks to @markonthemoon, honestly a lot of fluff, smut, weed mentions and use
word count: 3,704
Pulling your jacket over your head, you ran to Mark’s car in your fluffy slides. You slid into the already-adjusted passenger seat to your liking and leaned in to hug him. “Greetings” you grabbed the back of his neck, letting your nails lightly graze his skin as you held him in embrace.
“You good?” He licks his lips, before taking a sip of his juice for his cotton mouth.
“Yeah, how you doing?” You both smile, instinctively. Every time you guys are together, all you can both do is smile. The shy glances exchanged, the extra effort in casual banter just to see each other laugh. You both are crushing on each other hard but neither of you want to admit it.
You met Mark a couple months ago, at a party, through a mutual friend. There was an instant connection when he joined into your discussion, abruptly. He challenged your opinion, which is something you’re not used to. “Ouch! If guys who make music are fuckboys then maybe women who are into musicians are haters!” His delivery was playful which made you want to bicker with him.
“Yo? Who invited this guy?!” You said pointing at him as everyone broke into laughter. You both introduced yourselves and continued the discussion for a while. Soon, you both settled outside, smoking a joint and he showed you the games on his phone. Ever since that night, you guys have been hanging out socially and you’ve been picking up from Mark. It has been so nice to find a plug in your social circle. It makes you less anxious not having to call random numbers and not knowing what to expect.
So tonight was no different when you got in his car to pick up some weed. As always, he had rolled you a little something in his special pink paper, with magenta hearts on it. “Let’s go smoke this and then I’ll drop you home, yeah?” He smiled, coyly before putting the car into gear and pulling out of your street.
Mark drove for a bit before parking near a canal and he passed you his lighter. “Would you be so kind and do the honours?” He teased and opened his hands in his lap. Motioning you to bring your feet to his lap so he can rub them. You lit the joint and took your first pull. “So, how was your day?” He asked and listened intently, as always. He leaned back in his seat, resting his head. The way the moon lit the outlines of his features, made him look angelic. His eyes were focused on you as his hands rubbed your feet. You told him about work and university drama and he contributed with facial expressions and giggling with you.
“Girl.” You’d say in one tone.
“Girl.” He’d say in another.
You both passed the joint between you both and talked about your day. The conversation flowed from, life to movies to music and then you both fell in a comfortable silence. Looking at the bright, silver moon reflecting on the water whilst Mark continued to rub your feet. His touch was innocent and gentle. You felt his gaze slowly shift from the water to you and your face felt hot. You wanted to turn your face and catch his big beautiful eyes but you felt so shy. Not knowing what your feelings for him meant, made your heart beat faster.
“Hey” He whispered, “look at me.” Sincerity in his voice left chills down your back.
“I’m really glad I met you. You’re my guy, my dude.” He said and you chuckled, turning your face to look at him.
“I’m really glad I met you too... dude.” You stuck out your pinky finger and Mark already knew the cue. He took your finger into his pinky and transitioned into a handshake. A month ago, Mark started giving you a little extra in the bags and he made you pinky promise not to tell anyone or that it would ruin his “street cred.” So you both came up with a handshake shared between just the two of you. That’s how life had started to feel for the past couple weeks. An inside joke shared between two souls. Were you falling for him?
“Alright!” He propped as you retrieved your feet back into your slides. “Let’s get you home, bab- dUDE” Mark panicked and cleared his throat. You opened your mouth to speak but he turned the volume of the music up and started driving once again.
“See I woke up having a bad dayy.. And I gotta get the dollar any fast way..”
He sang along to Way Back Home by Cordae and you took it as a prompt to not mention his slip up. So you sang along with him. Rolling down the window, the breeze felt nice on your skin. The warm yellow street lights lit up the blue atmosphere and it made everything feel like a Van Gogh painting. You couldn’t figure out if you had always seen life from such a romantic lens or was it just recently starting to feel more pink and purple. You looked at Mark, once again, taking in his features. Eyes trailing from his messy black hair, to his glasses, his Adam’s apple and how much you wanted to place a kiss on it to see his reaction. Your stare landed at his lips and you felt your own mouth slightly part. You thought about how his lips would feel pressed against yours in urgency. How his mouth would taste, if he would use his tongue straight away or wait a little? Would the kiss be rushed or would he take his time? Your mind went in loops and you swallowed as you felt yourself salivate at the thought. Shit. Maybe, you do like him.
Before you knew it, you were pulled outside your house once again but not a single atom in your body wanted to leave Mark. He turned to you again, smiling and opened the dashboard. Pulling out a package, he handed it to you. “Here you are.. and there’s a lil something extra. just like always but shh.” He handed you an A5 sized package. It was bigger than the usual extra but you decided to not question it. “Ok so, this is Strawberry Sorbet. I think you’re gonna like it. It’s gonna help your cramps and give you tingly feelings.. you know the kind you get when you see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on the arm from you. He chucked, before continuing. “Nah but forreal, it’s really smooth as well. It’s a hybrid and kinda has like uhh.. a sweet candy-like flavour.. and DUDE. It slows down time SO much, its crazy. But uhm.. yeah, I hope you enjoy it.” He scratched the back of his head, realising that he might be talking too much but he relaxed when his eyes met your eyes, which were only focused on him. What was in the air tonight?
“Ugh dude, thank you so much. You are the best. Please let me know when you get home.” You gave him another hug, this time a bit shy-er than the first one. You felt your cheeks feel hot as Mark put his arms around you and give you a slight squeeze.
“Please, the streets should be scared that I’m not home yet.” He joked which made you roll your eyes.
“I’m being serious, Mark. Text me, okay?” You get out the car and lean in through the passenger window.
“Yes boss.” He raised his eye brow and smiled, playfully flirting with you.
“Okay, good.” And with that, he drove off. ________________________________________________________________________________
Dropping your keys in the bowl near your entrance, you walked back into your much warmer apartment, compared to the outside. You made your way to your bedroom and plopped yourself on the bed.
Wondering why the package is so big, you carefully opened it with excitement. You saw that he had your usual baggie in there but also a piece of paper. Confused, you pulled out the paper first, disregarding the weed. You hand flew to your mouth and you gasped, looking at the paper. Mark had drew an illustration of you with his copic markers. You always knew Mark was this skater guy, who liked to tag places with this friends but you never knew that he drew like this. You felt your stomach in knots as heat rose from your core, up to your cheeks, covering your entire face.
This. Fucking. Guy.
You thought to yourself and smiled. Your eyes trailed further along the paper to find a couple lines at the bottom, comparing you to a summer’s day with Mark’s own twist on it. “Nerd” You whispered to yourself, giggling. You felt your phone buzz and you jumped to pick it up. ____________________________________________
Mark 10:05 pm
home. the streets are safe now.
Y/N 10:05 pm
*attached pic* excuse me? what is thissssss?
Mark 10:06 pm
Looool Idk what you talking about :)
Y/N 10:06 pm
you nerd. I never knew you drew so well.
Mark 10:06 pm
you like it? hahaha
Y/N 10:06 pm
I love it
Y/N 10:07 pm
the poem too? where have you been hiding all this talent?
Mark 10:09 pm
shhh.
Mark 10:09 pm
It make you smile?
Y/N 10:09 pm
Yes....
Mark 10:10 pm
good.
____________________________________________
Throwing your phone, on the bed you fell back into your pillows and squealed into your hands like a love struck teenager. Ok. You definitely have feelings for him.
That night, neither of you could sleep. Mark felt nervous about his bold move and you felt giddy about your feelings. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a phone call.
“Sorry, who’s this?” You answer the phone jokingly.
“Ha Ha, very funny, asshole.” Mark dead panned, making you laugh. “Why you still up?” He asked softly.
“Dunno..”
“You can’t sleep either huh?” You could hear him smile through the phone and you bit your lip.
“So.. uhh.. you really like the drawing?”
“Dude, I love it. How do you know my face so well?” You exclaimed.
“Uhhmm.. I guess, I just know your face.. It’s a nice face.” Mark was being coy, yet again.
“Oh” You felt the shy spread from the phone and into you.
“I uh.. like your face.. I.. think uhm.. I.. like you” He mumbled, almost incoherently but you caught it. You both held your breath in anticipation of your reaction. You could feel your heart in your ears and your smile so wide, your cheeks started to hurt.
“You like me?”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
“I guess, you’re okay too Mark.” You teased him playfully.
“Woooow” He acted fake hurt.
“Come say it to my face, if you not pussy.” You suddenly felt a wave of confidence take over you.
“Oh yeah? Bet. Be there in 15.” And before you could tell him you’re joking, he hung up the phone.
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Mark showed up at your door in exactly 15 minutes. You opened the door, staggering a little from being nervous. “Hi” You said with a smile.
“Hi” he walked in and you both stood there, in awkward silence. Not knowing what to say or how to stand, you both felt super nervous.
“You wanna uh.. go sit on the sofa?” You offered, walking over to the living room and Mark followed. You both sat comically far from each other, with body language stiff. Looking around the room, you tried to find something to make small talk about. As you opened your mouth to speak, so did Mark and you both cut each other off. The awkwardness was killing you. You both laughed a little.
“You go” You turn to finally face him.
“I was just gonna say um.. if you wanted to try the strain I got for you today.. but urm I mean.. we don’t have to.. only if you want to.. you know, whatever is cool with me” Mark rambled on as you nodded and got up to get the baggie.
Walking back in to the living room, he looked up at you. Eyeing you in your shorts and a baggy t- shirt. “And come sit next to me.” He patted his hand beside him and you sunk into the sofa.
Mark put his arm around you and used his other hand to lift up your chin to look at him. His eyes were soft yet intense. You had never seen this look in his face before and it made you feel dizzy.
“Hey you..” He smiled.
Mark wasted no time before taking your lips into his. All the air came out of your lungs and you melted into his touch. His lips were soft and tasted like strawberry candy. He moved his lips against yours, painfully slow before pulling back to look at you. “Hi” He pecked your lips and smiled. Leaning his head to the other side, he kissed you again, this time, a little harder. His hand moved from under your chin, to under your ear as he held your face and traced his tongue against your mouth. You opened your mouth some more, letting out a sigh into his mouth which went straight to his dick and he pushed his tongue in further, deepening the kiss. You both got lost in the kiss for a while there before pulling away and smiling at one another as if you’re already high. Even though, your lips were now disconnected. Your eyes stayed fixed on one another.
“You have really long lashes..” You said matter of factly, making Mark laugh.
“And you like me back” Nothing could stop you both from smiling like idiots at one another. It felt as if, nothing else mattered in this moment.
“I do.. I do...” You left another peck, not being able to get enough of him. Mark pulled his arm from over you to dig through his pocket. He pulled out the special pink papers and handed them to you to roll one.
____________________________________________
The room felt like it was slowly spinning into you, a vortex of your feelings towards mark floated around you and time came to a halt. Your heart grew ten sizes that night, beating outside of your being, covering the entire room. You wanted to absorb him into your heart. The only way to express this to him was to have him inside you. Thinking about it, you felt your underwear pool and you moaned into Mark’s mouth. He squeezed your thigh tighter as a response, which brought you back to this room. On this sofa. On his lap. Tongue in his mouth. It was only then you realised, how time became warped from when you started smoking and Mark pulled you in for another kiss. Everything had been a blur since then. All you could focus on was how in such a short amount of time, this boy had become so dear to you.
Mark’s hands went to your ass to give it a handful squeeze and he got up picking you up with him. He pecked your lips once again.
“Hi baby” he smiled, taking in your features in awe.
“You okay?”
“Hi” you cheesed back at him, pecking his nose in response. “Of course.”
Mark carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently. Moving your hair out of your face, he hovered over you.
“God, you’re so beautiful” his ran his index finger along the side of your cheek.
“From the day I met you dude, I knew I was gonna like you.” He kissed you all over your face, filling the space with your giggles.
“Gonna make you my girl.” His lips, once again, crashed down into yours and he settled between your legs. You could feel him on your thigh and it drove you crazy. Adding to your arousal, he slowly grinded into you. He held your waist, before slipping his hands inside your shirt and squeezed one of your breast, lighting pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You swore you could’ve came right then. He lifted your t-shirt up to admire your body further. His eyes hung low from the weed and his mouth slightly parted. He smiled.
“Dang! They are so beautiful. Nice to meet you.” He left kisses along your breast, making you giggle and feel more comfortable.
Mid-giggle, your breath got caught in your throat when Mark licked a stripe between your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth. The shock made you arch your back and run your fingers through his hair before grabbing it. You let out a moan and felt Mark smirk against your skin.
Working his way down to your body, he took your shorts off. Coming face to face with your absolutely dampened underwear, Mark’s light hearted expression changed.
“Your panties.. are ruined” His voice, barely a whisper.
You felt a shift in the atmosphere. The air became heavy and thick with lust. You felt yourself clench around nothing when Mark pressed his thumb into your heat to check if this was real life. His eyes a little wider, and breath heavier. Mark wasted no time as he used his index finger to slide your panties to the side.
“Oh hi” his voice cracked a little, indicating that he was trying very hard to keep things light- hearted but his head was also spinning from the lust. He needed you.
“Baby?” He looked up at you with a glint in his eyes.
“Yeah?” You asked, rubbing head lovingly.
“Can I eat it baby?”
All you could do was nod and Mark didn’t need to be told twice. He dove right in with his tongue, kissing your pussy all over. He settled on the clit, making you move your thighs on his shoulders.
Mark took that as a sign to grab you harder and he moved his face in a zig-zag motion in your pussy. With every moan, Mark moaned with you.
“Mm?”
“Does it feel good?”
He was absorbed in the act and it was now his turn to feel a vortex of his feelings slowly fade into him, from outside of him. The vibrations from his moan were only sending you over the edge and then he slipped his fingers inside you. You grabbed his hair again, letting him know he’s doing good. Mark was so focused, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open. He was studying your reactions to the different movements of his fingers. His eyes going from your face to your pussy and how it was sucking in his fingers. Mark felt entranced.
He was aching inside his sweats as he felt you cum on his tongue. Legs shaking around his head, hands grabbing at his hair for some sort of support. He took his other hand to find yours and interlocked his fingers with yours. Even though, you had came. Mark did not take a second to let you catch your breath as he carried on, making you cum twice more. He felt like he could’ve stayed in there forever. He was drunk of your taste and smell. Time was still warped for the both of you. It ceased to exist.
And when Mark was finally inside you. Both of you felt as though you have sunken into a cloud. With each thrust, you kept sinking, deeper and deeper. Going lower, and lower. The room was filled with your moans and the sound of how wet you were. You don’t think you legs ever stopped shaking from he first time, they had done that. “Oh my god, you feel so good.” Mark managed to get some words out, after a long time of scrunched up faces and moans. Mark felt like he was losing his mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw stars. You wrapped your legs around him and his movement staggered. “Wait.. wait.. you gonna make me cum like this.. turn over for me.” He placed a kiss on your cheek.
Now laying on your stomach, Mark slid into you once again. Immediately, realising that changing positions might have made things worse when he felt your ass cushion his thrusts, he fell onto your back and lightly bit your shoulder. Mark pounded into you with force, accepting his fate of climaxing very soon. His hand snaked onto your throat as he guided your head back so he could kiss you again. He lightly squeezed your throat as he pounded into you. Moans and curse words flew from both of your mouths and you felt him throb inside you. The movement, hitting your spot perfectly, made your legs shake once last time as you came around him and you swore Mark almost growled in your ear.
“Baby.. you’re pu..pushing me out.. ugh.. feels..s o.. good.” It wasn’t long before, he also came to his climax and pulled out, finishing all over your ass.
He collapsed on the side next to you as you both caught your breath and settled into giddy giggles again. “That felt like 10 years and 2 seconds, all at the same time.” You say, out of breath.
You were both so infatuated with one another. It was disgusting.
“Lemme get you a towel babe.” Mark groaned before getting up and walking over to the bathroom.
You admired his naked frame from the back. His muscly back and toned ass. He was sculpted by the gods and you just had this man moaning into your mouth. The thought of that made your core tingle again, confirming that this was only the first round of tonight.
“So.. Shakespeare, huh?” You called out to Mark from the bed, referring to his poem.
“Oh, he is the OG man.” You heard the water shut and he shouted back.
Walking back into the room in all his glory, now from the front. You admired him. “If you’re good, I’ll show you my stuff sometime.” He sank onto the bed and wiped your butt with the warm towel.
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konigsblog · 9 months
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Hi! This is my first time asking something :D 
Do you do anything, not nsfw? And if so, what would some random könig headcanons you agree with? Like habits and stuff you’d think he’d do? (does that make sense lmao)
If you just do nsfw you could make them nsfw headcanons.. Or just combine both aha
**HII.. i do write for sfw and fluff, as well as angst it's just not really requested as much as smut :) but here, hope you enjoy this!!! 🌙
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silly könig headcannons
⭒ mentions of weed use, fluff.. 🌷🎀
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⭒könig who prefers cats over dogs. they're quieter and calmer, has a ginger cat called ‘spice’ that's fiesty to new people. he loves the animal to death, and hands it to his oma when he's on deployment.
⭒i've mentioned this before, but i feel like könig was in a band as a kid, just a school one. he played the drums and was pretty emo in his teenager years...
⭒he sleeps in the weirdest positions. he'll either wake up with his body contorted into different ways, his arms above his head and across his chest with his legs intertwined with eachother.
⭒he's an easily jealous person, always top of his classes and getting 100% on his tests. his mother always wanted the best outcome for her son, so she was shocked when he decided to join the kommando spezialkräfte instead of becoming a doctor or a lawyer.
⭒has 100% attempted to get up but fell because his legs were stuck and tangled in his bedsheets.
⭒gets second hand embarrassment far too easily. he's cringing on the inside when someone does/says something stupid.
⭒absolutely hates the summer. it's horrible; everybody's sweaty and stinks, missions make him want to peal his skin off. definitely prefers autumn/winter.
⭒his favourite food to eat whilst sick is soup, a special homemade soup him and his mother made together while growing up. her own special recipe that he only teaches to his closest of friends.
⭒loves late night conversations. they're so deep and understanding, chatting for hours 'til your jaw hurts and the sun his peaking through the curtains.
⭒either drinks black coffee, really bitter. or drinks the most sugary coffee ever, no in-between. (tell me your opinions)
⭒is a morning person. gets up early and has his breakfast, something quick and easy, like toast or porridge (oatmeal), has a morning shower 'nd everything. (i love adding salt to my porridge/oatmeal)
⭒hates when people say germany and austria are the same. will definitely have a whole rant about the differences 'til you understand fully.
⭒smokes weed a lot, pretty much an addict. he says it's to calm his nerves down but he gradually started doing it more and more often. a stoner fs.
⭒enjoys movies, a lot. he loves sitting down with a blanket beside him, covered in orange cat hair. will probably make a bowl of popcorn to eat whilst watching, but ends up eating it all before he's even 30 minutes in.
big, bear hugs. we all know that the big, brute and towering man gives amazing hugs, but he really wants to lay atop of you, to cage you with his warmth.
⭒has a tendency to over share, rants sometimes while pretending to be confident, finding anything to talk about before feeling a bit uncomfortable with what he'd said.
⭒isn't shy. it's my biggest pet peeve when people make könig out to be someone shy, scared, ect.. he's not shy, he's socially anxious, but that doesn't make him quiet. he either puts on a front and pretends to be confident with a cocky, loud personality.
⭒absolutely adores milk. he drinks like a gallon in two days, that's why he's 6’10.
⭒enjoys mint chocolate chip ice cream, hates strawberry, especially if they have chunks. (self projecting)
⭒enjoys doing the dishes, finds it satisfying. until he touches food and gags.
⭒avid banana hater, the texture to the taste, everything about it makes him feel ill.
⭒listens to music for hours, usually something rock or heavy metal, loud music in his ears and the loud explosions gives him some hearing damage.
⭒usually smells woodsy, fresh cut trees and vanilla.
⭒germaphobe. doesn't like being near people when they're sick and will avoid them, probably because he gets sick too easily, despite having a strong immune system.
⭒isn't a very emotional person, he has sympathy for others but can't express it through tears and emotions. he's cold and aggressive to the recruits, blaming them for his issues because he struggles taking blame and fault for situations and needs a punching bag.
⭒owned a fish when he was around 7, cried because it died. turns out it was alive and he saw it swim down the toilet. never got another fish again, traumatized.
⭒doesn't like being told he's in the wrong, will refuse and deny it 'til he's forced to either apologise or end the friendship.
⭒curly ginger, or wavy ginger, you can't change my mind.
⭒doesn't really understand tiktok that much, or instagram. not really something that he's interested in, but occasionally uses twitter for like 5 minutes.
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⭒has anemia, or iron deficiency. takes a couple naps a day because he doesn't like taking his supplements.
these are all i could think off 😵‍💫 tell me your personal headcannons!!
banner credit; @cafekitsune
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thoughts on mammon and levi as a duo
Absolutely fucking love them!!
I feel like they're the closest in age (other than the twins obviously) like if they were humans the age gap would be just one year.
Love that Levi's one of the brothers who truly sees Mammon and understands him even though they're always fighting - he's the one who says Mammon is a "jerk with a heart of gold", he's the one who agrees when MC says Mammon has always been kind, he's the one who says that Mammon is social/good with people/makes friends with people easily and cares about those people
Love that no matter how much in debt Mammon gets with Levi, Levi still gives him money
Love that Mammon goes and stays in line and gets things for Levi when Levi's too anxious to go
Love that Mammon actually has a vague idea about all the things Levi is interested in and knows what new things he's looking out for
Love that we've seen Levi go to Mammon multiple times when he needs reassurance
Love that Mammon's the one to remind Levi to buy two of an item so that he can open one box and keep the other closed
Love that Mammon wanted to buy a similar figurine for Levi because he thought Levi lost the raffle draw
Love that they have a similar stupid sense of humour and made a stupid comedy duo
Love how Mammon gathers everyone to set up a gaming night after he finds out that Levi was upset because he needed irl friends to play a new game
Love that in Nightbringer the thing that makes Mammon start trusting MC and bringing them into his schemes is that he saw them being nice to Levi
Love when they're fighting and Levi tries to straight up drown Mammon but later when MC tells him that they shouldn't fight he's like "?????we weren't fighting?????" that shit was the most sibling thing ever, I've had that exact same conversation with my mother after she had to stop my brother and I from killing each other
Love that in s2 and nightbringer out of everyone's relationships with MC, we see that Levi's most jealous of Mammon & MC's
Mammon cares about Levi so much, that's his little brother and he would do anything for him but each time he sees him he's also immediately overtaken by the Cain Instinct
Levi looks up to Mammon so much (though he'd rather die than admit it) and he trusts Mammon to support him with anything he needs but he also prays for Mammon's disappearance under mysterious circumstances everyday
I also have this headcanon that Lucifer met Levi through Mammon. That one day Mammon dragged home this painfully shy angel he found skipping practice/lessons while he was skipping practice/lessons. And at first the angel absolutely refused to even acknowledge Mammon, curling up into a tighter ball as if not seeing him would make Mammon disappear but then somehow Mammon managed to annoy him enough that he started snapping back and actually turns out he's hilarious and fiery and mean when he's not stuck in his own head. And Mammon is delighted. He's never had this much fun with anyone so close to his age before. And after finding out that unlike the other angels their age this one hasn't been issued a guardian/mentor yet he (literally) drags him back to Lucifer and is like "can we keep him!!?" And Levi is mortified because holy shit that's Lucifer, who never leaves the palace, who never hangs about with angels this far down the hierarchy, who might as well be the heir to the entire Celestial Realm. And Mammon's hopping up and down on his toes and is hanging on to Lucifer's sleeve and is like "please please please can we keep him". And Levi's shaking and on the verge of crying and this is terrifying and horrible and even worse than that time where he was the only angel in his batch that none of the other older angels picked to mentor and oh he's going to die on the spot. And Lucifer's mother bear instincts just immediately flare up because yes this is his child now
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daisynik7 · 11 months
Text
Give You Blue
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Chapter 4: Alone Together
Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)
Rating: Explicit (for mature content)
cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, language, a bit of fluff
Word Count: ~5.7k
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist
Summary: You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue. Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you think, I thrive off of reading your comments! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.
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“Eren, are you paying attention?” 
Armin waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, snapping Eren out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in. He shakes his head slightly, grinning. “Sorry, Armin. Sort of zoned out for a minute there.” They sit next to each other on Eren’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop. It’s Saturday night, and Eren actually agreed to be social today. 
Armin taps on the space bar, pausing the film. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?”
The real answer is no, but with Armin, he’ll only worry if he knows the truth. “Plenty. All eight hours,” Eren lies. In reality, he’s getting four hours tops. He stays up late studying, then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, anxious about the future. 
Oblivious, Armin responds happily. “Good! Living by yourself is already paying off. Sometimes I wish I could have my own space. The frat house can get pretty noisy, especially with Connie as a roommate.” He chuckles, reaching towards the bag of chips between them.
“Connie’s a blast to be around, though. I’m sure you’re having fun.”
“Yeah, I am. You should really come by the house.”
“Maybe. When I have time.” In all honestly, he has no intention of stepping foot in that frat house. Not because he has a disdain for Greek life; but because it’ll only show him what he’s missing out on. He already feels that way whenever he catches up with Mikasa and Armin, both thoroughly enjoying their college experience still. 
Mikasa returns from the bathroom, hopping on the bed to squeeze next to Eren. “What did I miss?”
“We ended up pausing the movie anyways, so not much.” Armin passes the snacks to Mikasa, who throws a handful into her mouth. 
They continue the movie, Eren’s mind drifting into space again. He’s already thinking about the upcoming chemistry midterm next week, how he hasn’t fully memorized the amino acids and their structures yet. And how he has to schedule a date to meet with Hange Zoë, a senior doing research in the lab, to see if he can shadow her for a month. On top of that, he’s planning on hosting a small event at the dorms, something to help his residents let off some steam after exams. It’s all too much. He wants to sleep and pretend that none of these obligations exist. 
The credits roll on his computer screen. He blinks, fully unaware of what transpired during the movie. His friends hang around for a few more minutes before leaving to head to a party somewhere else on campus. Once again, he’s alone. 
He is not motivated to study tonight, already burnt out from the last couple of days. Instead, he practices his electric guitar, working on a particular riff of this song he likes, replaying it over and over through his headphones. He loses himself in the music for a while, the closest thing to an escape that he can reproduce inside his own bedroom. Fingers sore from picking and strumming, he decides to call it a night. Face washed and teeth brushed, he snuggles under the covers, glancing at his phone. 11:00 PM. Wild night, he thinks to himself, laughing. 
Suddenly, his brother’s name flashes across the screen. “Zeke?”
“Eren, hey. You’re not sleeping already, are you?”
“Nah. But I’m in bed.”
“On a Saturday night?”
“Yep.”
Zeke chuckles heartily. “Oh boy. I can already hear it in your voice. Welcome to the club, little brother. Your descent into med school hell is starting.”
“Yay, can’t wait,” Eren responds sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s up?”
“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Clearly not well.”
“I’ve been better.” He keeps his answer vague on purpose. With Zeke, he doesn’t go into too much detail with the emotions he’s experiencing. As much as he respects his older brother, the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye. While Eren usually acts out of emotion, sometimes to a fault, Zeke is detached, unable to empathize with what his younger brother is struggling with.  
“Is dad still giving you a hard time? I heard he wasn’t happy with your last quiz grade.” 
Eren ignores the urge to ask how he knows about that, already aware that they talk about him behind his back. “I told him it was weighted, so technically I passed.” 
“Well, you know how the old man is. Technicalities don’t really matter to him.”
He rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, almost regretting picking up this call. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you should study harder.”
He’s fighting to keep his cool, his body tense with anger. Before he loses it, he mutters through gritted teeth, “Okay, thanks. I actually gotta go now, bye.”
“Eren, I’m just trying to help – ”
He doesn’t wait for Zeke to finish his sentence, already tapping on the red button to end the call. Now, with his mood ruined, he’s not sure if he can fall asleep. He wishes it was still daylight, specifically the golden hour when the sun sets. It would be the perfect time to head to his favorite spot: the beach that overlooks the shimmering expanse of blue ocean water separating Paradis and Marley. He discovered this area recently, on one of his drives that he takes to temporarily escape. It brings him peace, even if the moment is fleeting. 
Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on his mom’s name, holding the phone back up to his ear. When her familiar voice greets him on the other line, the tears start flowing and he spends the next half hour confiding in her. 
~~~
You and Reiner cuddle in bed, his nose nuzzled to the back of your neck, spooning you. Bertolt is home for the weekend, leaving the room to yourselves. 
“Coco, are you still awake?”
You hum, snuggling closer to him, on the verge of sleep. He swallows hard behind you, as if he’s nervous. “I think I want to live in the fraternity house next semester.”
This gets your attention. Surprised, you turn around to face him. “What?”
“It’ll help me bond with my brothers better.”
“But we were supposed to live together.” The two of your agreed quite early in the semester that you would live together in one of the on-campus apartments. This news comes to you as a shock, since he’s never mentioned wanting to live on Greek Row, until now. 
“I just want to try it out for a year, baby. When we’re juniors, we can find our own place off campus, so we can do whatever we want.” He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “Everything is going to work out, okay? You can wait a year, right?”
Of course you can wait; that’s what he asks you of, so you’ll do it. But you don’t want to. You had all these exciting ideas laid out in your head: cooking meals together, relaxing on the couch in each other’s arms, being alone without worrying about parents or roommates barging in on the two of you. Being together all the time. 
“Coco, say something.”
It’s easy to get upset. Make a fuss and yell at him for being selfish. Simultaneously, you feel guilty for thinking this way, like you’re the bad girlfriend for disagreeing with it. For wanting him all to yourself.
“Okay,” you finally respond. “I’ll ask Annie if she wants to live together again, I guess.” It’s a compromise for the sake of making him happy. Because more than anything, you want him to be happy. 
He smiles, kissing you on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
You wake up, back in your own bed, Annie’s soft snores filling the quiet of the room. A quick glance at your phone shows you it’s only 4 AM in the morning. It’s been a few days since you dreamt about Reiner, a new record since the break-up. Still, whenever you do, it hurts as much as it did the first night. 
He never warned you about wanting to move into the fraternity house. It came out of nowhere, a total and complete blindside, much like when he broke up with you. He’s been this way for a while, making rash decisions and springing it on you without a mention of it beforehand. You always end up going along with it, forcing yourself to accept it without disagreement. You never could stand up for yourself, thinking it was less hassle to bend for him than to argue about it. When you’re with someone for so long, the easy road seems the obvious choice, compared to one that has bumps and cracks along the way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s better; it doesn’t always lead you to the right destination. And maybe that’s why you are where you are now: lost. 
It’s been almost two weeks since you saw him on that rainy day. Two weeks since he sent you that text message, which remains unanswered. There’s been moments where you stared at the screen, fingers ghosting the keyboard, wanting to send him a reply. Somehow, you’ve resisted those temptations. In the end, it’ll only lead to more heartache. The memories haven’t kept you up at night as much as it did before. Thankfully, your sleep schedule is back to normal, except for nights like this. You’re doing better each day. Annie’s two words to you are on constant loop in your head: Baby steps. Any progress, no matter how little or big, is still progress. As long as you don’t go backwards into a downward spiral.
Later in the week, Annie extends an invitation to eat dinner at one of the sorority houses on campus, Mu Phi. Hitch, a close friend, is a sister who currently lives there. As you approach Greek Row with your roommate, you look at the Delta Delta house right next door, wondering if Reiner is there, working as their hasher tonight. Possibly flirting with Christa or other sisters that surely find him attractive. You let the insecurities fade as soon as you knock on the door to Mu Phi, soon greeted by Hitch and two other friendly sisters. They lead you into the dining room, chatting about various topics, subtlety sneaking in how great sorority life is, asking if you’ve ever been interested. After all, they are constantly in recruitment mode, which doesn’t bother you. It feels nice to be desired. 
During the meal, the conversations continue. Annie, being the secret gossip she is, mentions the neighbors. You briefly described to her your run-in with Reiner and Christa, so naturally, she’s been curious since. “What’s it like living next to them?”
Hitch replies, “It’s fine. Did you know that Mikasa’s a Delta Delta?”
“Really? She rushed? I guess they can’t be all bad,” Annie muses.
Hitch eyes her with an amused smirk on her face. “Why would you say that? Who’s in there that you don’t like?”
Before Annie can respond, you interrupt, not wanting to spread any unwarranted gossip. “She’s joking. By the way, who’s Mikasa?”
“She’s this girl that attends Annie’s kickboxing class.”
Annie adds, “She’s also our RA’s sister.”
“Eren?”
She nods, confirming. His appearance around the dorms has lessened, possibly because of the upcoming midterms. He is a pre-med major after all, so you’re certain he’s too busy studying to be out and about. You wished you could have seen his face when he received the bag full of Pocky you bought for him, as thanks for sharing his umbrella on that rainy day. “I didn’t know he has a sister.”
“She’s adopted, from what I heard,” Hitch comments. “But they’re super close. Her, Eren, and Armin.”
At that third name, you glance at Annie, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. She had a class with Armin last semester, and they were paired up for a big project. From then on, your roommate has been smitten with him, but she’ll never admit it out loud. You also recognize the name as one of Reiner’s pledge brothers from the same fraternity, though you’ve never met him personally. Knowing he’s close to Eren already gives you the impression that he’s a nice guy. 
The dinner ends with a tour of the house, not including the exclusive sleeping porch on the top floor, where all the sisters are forced to slumber beside each other. Right outside the entrance, you, Hitch, and Annie talk for a little while longer until your roommate announces, “My shift at the library is starting, so I have to leave now. Thanks for dinner Hitch!”
The three of you say your goodbyes, Hitch waving farewell from the door, you and Annie parting ways in opposite directions. It’s a clear sky tonight, the moon glowing brightly in the vast darkness, littered with barely visible stars. You take your time walking, enjoying the pleasantly cool air, admiring the other houses along Greek Row. From behind, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Coco.”
Before you face him, you curse under your breath, aware of exactly who it is. You find Reiner several feet away from you, presumably from the Delta Delta house. His fraternity is in the opposite direction, so he must have spotted you from afar, maybe heard you talking outside. You stand in place, waiting for him to catch up to you, ambushed. 
“Hey,” he says, with a sheepish grin.
You nod stiffly, unsure what to do next. It’s too late to make a run for it. Impossible to turn back the clock and sprint your way across campus. You should have known better, especially when you already assumed he’d be working there tonight. It doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped. 
“Are you heading back to your dorm?” he asks, hands in his pockets. 
You nod once more, voice stuck in your throat, unable to speak. 
“I’ll walk with you.” It’s not a question or a suggestion. It’s final. He’s determined to do it. 
Reluctant, you let him, pivoting on your heel towards the direction of your dorm, remaining silent. He stays beside you, hands in his pocket, glancing at you hesitantly. “What were you doing at Mu Phi?”
So he did notice you first. Eyes focused on the ground, you answer, “Hitch invited us for dinner.”
“Christa also invited you, remember? To the Delta Delta house.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” You don’t mean to sound venomous; well, maybe you do. Why bother bringing that up?
“I’m just reminding you. She’s really nice, you know.”
You snap, annoyed and frustrated. “Yes, Reiner, I’m sure she is very nice. That’s why I think she’d understand why I refuse to go to that house for dinner.”
“Because of me?” 
“Of course it’s because of you!”
He sighs, scratching his arm excessively. Something he does when he’s anxious. “I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me. I thought we agreed to be friends. You won’t even respond to my texts. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay?”
“Okay? You want to know if I’m okay? Reiner, I haven’t been okay since the day you broke up with me.” 
“That’s why I’m trying to talk to you.”
You scoff, blood boiling. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. You’re the reason I’m not okay. You broke my heart.” It’s a cheap shot to blame him, but that’s what you do. Fire everything in your arsenal to defend yourself, to hurt him.
His expression turns sullen at your harsh words. “I couldn’t be your boyfriend anymore. It’s fucked up, I know. But I did what I thought was right. I didn’t want to string you along.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you talk to me about it? We tell each other everything. Why keep this away from me?” 
He chews on his lip, nervous. “I was scared, okay? Really scared to lose you. I thought if I started talking about it, you’d break up with me and hate me forever. I wasn’t ready for that.”  
You process this, not sure how you truly feel about it. On the one hand, you understand the fear of losing the most important person in your life. That’s what you two are to each other. Well, were. On the other hand, it isn’t fair that he makes decisions when he’s ready. What about you?
You arrive outside your dorm building, standing feet away from each other, your arms crossed over your chest, protecting your heart. When you don’t respond, he continues. “I care about you, Coco. You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life.”
 “You say that now, but eventually, somebody else will come along. Then what?”
Quietly, he replies, “I don’t know.”
You have to stand up for yourself. Hit him with the bitter truth even if it makes him uncomfortable. You’ve gone far too long agreeing to what he wants, following his plan, sacrificing your sanity to protect him. You don’t owe him anything. He decided to dump you when he was ready. That gives you free reign to do the same. “I don’t want to be a placeholder for whenever the next person comes along. Do you understand how painful that is? To know I’m temporary? I can’t be the most important person in your life. Not like this. That’s why we can’t be friends.” 
He stares at you, dumbfounded that you won’t concede to him. Disappointed that he can’t get what he wants this time, after so many years of doing so. This is what it’s like to have control, to stick up for yourself. Maybe there is some good to come out of this breakup. 
After a while, Reiner speaks, voice trembling, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this to me, Coco. I still…I still love – ”
“Don’t say it. Do not fucking say it.” You cover your ears, as if that will prevent your brain from finishing the rest of that sentence in your head. 
“I mean it, though. No matter what happens between us. I want you in my life.”
“Why is everything about what you want? Have you ever considered what I want?” You begin to pace back and forth on the pavement, arms jittery, increasingly erratic. 
A little louder now, a tinge of arrogance in his tone, he says, “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Pretty sure I have a good idea about what you want.”
“Well, you don’t. It’s different now. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.”
“How can you say this right now? You’re just going to throw us away?!”
“You did it first!” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.
He steps towards you, hands in a desperate prayer, begging. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, Coco. I need you. I need you.” It’s the magic words that he so expertly chants to you. The ones that tug at your heartstrings, make you weak in the knees. And for a second, you consider taking everything back. Reach out and hold him, forget about the pain you’ve suffered these past two months and agree to be friends. Because you’d do anything to see him happy again. For this to be a long nightmare and to wake up together, perfectly back to normal.
But you don’t. And only because the entrance to your building suddenly swings open, revealing Eren at the door, inspecting the scene with a concerned expression on his face. “Is everything okay out here?”
Reiner glares at him for the interruption. “Who are you?”
Eren steps towards you, glancing at you and Reiner. “I’m Eren, the RA for this building. Heard some yelling and thought I should check it out.” 
“Reiner is leaving now,” you murmur, avoiding Eren’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for the commotion.” You turn to head inside, not bothering to wave goodbye to your ex, who stands there, watching you. Eren follows, sneaking glances at Reiner before swiping his ID at the door to let you both in.
“Coco,” he calls out. “Please.”
You ignore him, wiping your tears with the back of your shaky hands, listening to the door shut behind you. 
“Are you okay?” Eren asks, voice calm.
You face him, forcing a weak smile, eyes still wet. “Perfectly fine.” You turn to hurry into your room, overwhelmed and wanting to hide in the safety of your bed forever. 
Before you can, he grabs you gently by the hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you ever need to talk or anything, my door is always open for you.”
You mutter a timid, “Thank you,” then rush down the hall and into your room, heart pounding against your chest. His comforting words replay in your head, trying to replace all that was said between you and Reiner.  
~~~
At the end of the week, Eren hosts a game night in the common room of the dorm building. He’s excited to bond with his residents with pizza from his favorite local Italian joint and some good old-fashioned Mario Kart. He lays the food out on the table and sets up his Nintendo console to the TV, the familiar opening sequence playing on the screen. Then, he patiently waits for his first guest. Fifteen minutes pass and still no one shows up. Where is everybody? 
At the thirty-minute mark, he lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The pizzas are surely lukewarm now, and the same tune playing on the TV is starting to grate on his ears. He texts Mikasa and Armin, complaining about the complete lack of attendees. Immediately, he gets a call from his sister. When he picks up, she states, “Eren, nobody is there because it’s the Friday night after midterms.”
“So?”
“People are getting ready to party. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Armin is doing. That’s what everyone is doing.” 
Someone in the background yells, “Tell him to come out with us!” It’s Sasha’s voice. 
He groans, realizing his mistake. “I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not. Just come out with us. You deserve a break.”
He considers it for a few seconds, before he replies, “Thanks, but I’m gonna head to bed.”
Sasha boos him. “C’mon, Eren! Join us! It’ll be fun!”
“I’m tired, Sash. Next time.”
Believing she can’t be heard, she whispers to Mikasa, “He always says that.” Well, she’s not wrong. 
Eren bids farewell to his friends, wishing them fun tonight. He lays on the couch for a while longer, trying to not to be too devastated at this failure of an event. Finally standing up, he heads to the table to begin packing.
“Am I too late?”
He turns around, surprised by her voice. The resident from down the hall, Room 104. The girl he’s seen cry at least three times now, the most recent being earlier in the week, outside the dorms. A small confrontation with the guy who Eren assumes is her ex, the cause behind all the tears. He was hoping to run into her soon, to check if she’s doing alright. He’s delighted to find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face. 
“Hey,” he greets, waving at her. She steps towards him, inspecting the plethora of food on the table. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You’re the first person to show up, so we have plenty of food.”
She gives him a sympathetic look, opening the pizza box to grab a slice. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He grins. “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me.”
As she settles in on the couch with her food, she explains, “I would have come earlier, but I was helping Annie get ready for a party.”
Eren takes the seat beside her, dropping a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “I guess everyone really is going out tonight,” he muses, recalling what Mikasa told him earlier. 
“Well, not everyone,” she reminds him, smiling. His chest swells with warmth seeing this side of her. Eyes free of tears, cheeks rounded with happiness, relaxed in his presence. He secretly resents Reiner, or whatever that guy’s name is, for putting her through all the misery she’s had to suffer. 
They eat their pizza, chatting about arbitrary topics like favorite toppings, best local restaurants around the town, even a silly bet about who will beat who in a race. The upbeat melody of the Mario Kart intro still playing in the background is no longer annoying now that Eren has company. 
One box only halfway finished, they wipe their hands clean of pizza grease to start the game, picking their favorite characters. Eren always opts for Yoshi, because of course he’s got to get the green dinosaur. She selects Toad, going on about how adorable she finds him, doing a decent impersonation of his high-pitched, bouncy voice, causing Eren to bust out laughing. They race, moving their bodies along with their controllers, bumping elbows and shoulders with bright smiles on their faces. She nudges him in the ribs when he tosses a red shell at her, knocking her off the course to take first place. He taps her knee with his when he slips on a banana peel she strategically lays out for him. It’s competitive, but not serious, both of them gloating and teasing one another at their victories. After going through most of the courses, they play battle mode, teaming up together to destroy CPUs on the most difficult levels. 
After exhausting most of the game to their heart’s contents, Eren checks his phone, shocked that it’s already past 11 o’clock. He glances at her, checking if she’s ready to leave once they shut down the game. She remains beside him, her attention focused on the piano in the corner of the room. Pointing at it, she asks, “We have a piano in here?”, clearly never noticing it before.
He chuckles. “Yeah we do. Do you play?”
She shakes her head, standing up to approach it, sitting on one side of the bench. He follows her, taking his place next to her. It’s only now that he realizes how close they’ve been all night. His heart starts to beat faster for some reason. 
Finger at a key, she presses on it, filling the room with a very out-of-tune C-note. “Do you play?” she asks.
“Not much, just the basics really. I’m better at guitar.”
“Acoustic?”
“Electric,” he answers, resting his hand on the piano, hovering his fingers over a chord.
“Electric guitar is so cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” It’s an innocent suggestion. But for whatever reason, Eren is shy about the idea of her being inside his room, watching him play his guitar. And for a split second, he imagines what other activities they can do with each other, in the privacy of his bedroom. He catches himself, mentally waving away the potentially inappropriate thoughts. 
Desperate to change the subject, he suggests, “Want me to teach you something?”
She nods, eager to learn. He starts his thumb on a C-note. “This is a C-major scale. It starts here,” he presses down, wincing at how out of tune it is. “And then you follow through with the rest of your fingers. That’s a very basic scale, without complicating it too much.”
She does it easily, smiling at the keys in front of her. “Now can you teach me Moonlight Sonata?” she jokes. 
He laughs. “How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star instead?”
“Fine,” she says, fake pouting. She’s really cute.
By midnight, she’s perfected the lullaby, enough for the two of them to sing along to it. Even with the notes out of tune, it’s still pleasant to listen to. He then shows her how to play the easiest version of Heart & Soul, a fun duet they manage to practice together within the hour. She’s a quick learner, which he appreciates. After their performance, she looks at him, smiling. “You’re a really good teacher.” 
He brushes his fingers along the keys. “That was my dream job growing up. I always wanted to be a teacher.”
“A music teacher?”
“No, an elementary school science teacher,” he admits. “Thought it’d be so cool to blow their minds with little experiments or facts about the living things.” He stares distantly, a longing grin on his face, fantasizing an imaginary world where he’s pursuing a career he enjoys. 
“So, what made you want to become a doctor instead?” 
At this point, he’s speaking candidly, no longer worried about hiding the truth. He’s comfortable with her. “My dad. He’s a doctor, and it’s pretty much expected of me.”
“Are you enjoying it so far?”
“No, but at the end of the day, I’ll be helping people. And that’s what matters right?” 
There’s a small pause in the conversation as she pushes on one of the keys, the note ringing out in the temporary quiet. “Teachers help people too. More than what society gives them credit for. And besides, no one wants to go to a doctor who isn’t happy being a doctor, right?”
He faces her, processing her statement. “I guess I never thought about that.”
She continues, drumming her fingers lightly on the piano. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that forcing yourself to be happy doesn’t actually make you happy. It’s silly to say that out loud, like it’s so obvious. But I’ve made a lot of excuses, pretending I was fine with decisions made on my behalf without my feelings being considered. It was always easier to go along with it, avoid confrontation or an argument. But at what cost? Sacrificing my own happiness? It isn’t worth it, especially when it’s your life that you’re living, nobody else’s.”
This is about her ex. There’s a strong urge to ask her about it, offer a lending ear to listen to what else is on her mind. But he doesn’t question it further. The words she speaks to him resonate. Although they’re both going through different struggles in their lives, she understands him better than he expects her to. Maybe more than anyone in his circle of friends right now. 
“I have a friend who’s an education major. Erwin Smith. His dad is also a teacher. I can give you his contact info if you want to talk to him?” she offers.
“I don’t know,” he responds hesitantly. He’s never considered changing his major. He can already picture the faces his father makes, disdainful and disappointment at his son “downgrading” his career. 
“It doesn’t hurt to have it, right? Just in case?” 
He thinks about it carefully before he eventually relents, whipping his phone out to type out the information she recites to him. She’s right; it doesn’t hurt to have it. It doesn’t mean anything. 
Phone still in his hand, he abruptly blurts out, “We should exchange numbers.” Almost instantly, he regrets it, aware at how inappropriate that would be. But when she grins at him, nodding, he’s immediately relieved. 
“I’m assuming this will be your personal number and not your RA emergency line?” she smirks.
Laughing, he confirms, “Yes, my personal number. I, um, enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. We should definitely do this again.” He passes her his phone as she does the same. 
“You’re teaching me Moonlight Sonata next, remember?” she jokes, tapping her number into his screen.
“Yeah, of course.”
She slips her phone back into her pocket. “Also, if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to you, I’m just down the hall.”
“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line,” he teases, nudging her elbow with his. 
“Well, you’ve helped me out way more than you know, so I want to do the same for you. Rely on me, okay? We’re friends now.”
Outside the room, students begin to stumble through the hall, back from their night of partying. Eren checks his phone, surprised to read 1:35 AM on the screen. “It’s already past 1. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
“Don’t be. I wanted to be here with you. Thank you for hosting this.”
“Thank you for being the only person to show up.” 
They gaze at each other, smiling. He wants to stay like this a little while longer, but he knows it has to end. At least, for tonight. They’re friends now, and he’ll be able to enjoy that warm, vibrant smile more often, he hopes. 
“Anyways, we should probably sleep soon,” she suggests, glancing at the pizza boxes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“Thanks. Maybe we can hand some of these out. I bet someone out there has the munchies right now.”
She giggles. “Great idea, Mr. RA.”
They tidy up, clearing the room of trash and putting away the video game console back in Eren’s knapsack. She carries it with her while Eren balances the pizzas in his hands, offering a box to the passing residents that are not-so-discreetly drunk. By the time they make it to his room, he’s only got one left, deeming the event an overall success. Especially now that he’s made a friend from it. 
She sets the bag down on the floor, watching him unlock the door. “I guess this is goodnight,” she says, giving him a small wave as she begins to step backwards down the hall, facing him.
“Yeah. I guess it is. Sweet dreams, okay?”
“Sweet dreams, Eren,” she repeats, turning on her heel to walk to her room. 
~~~
You lay in bed, listening to Annie’s drunken snores beside you, mind focused on your new friend Eren. Snuggling closer to your pillow, you smile to yourself, happy for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s the most fun you’ve had this semester, and most importantly, it’s the longest you’ve gone without sulking about Reiner. 
It’s in this moment that you realize the baby steps you’ve taken so far don’t seem so small anymore. Things are finally starting to look up. 
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delicate-moon-princess · 10 months
Note
that last ask has me thinking about soft daddy Henry who cares so much about your mental health. I have adhd (not bad but it’s there) and I really struggle with depression and anxiety in the wrong environment. I can just see daddy!Henry mode activated if you went to a party you didn’t know would be so loud and chaotic. He has you lean against a corner and breathe in sync with him, uses his charm to find a perfect excuse to leave. You’re all “I’ll be okay, we don’t have to go,” and he just gives you that daddy look like he can’t believe you would downplay your needs like that, and he low (high) key wants to spank you for it. And then he cuddles you all night long. But then if you get depressed (maybe you’re PMSing, maybe someone said something that triggered a bad thought cycle), he runs you a bubble bath and pours you a glass of wine and rubs your shoulders and snuggles you through your favorite Disney movie. And goodness help them, if someone did say something negative to you, but he would spend the night making you fall apart on his fingers and tongue until you forgot all about that silly person 🤭
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(Henry is a big protective bear in this one, so a gif of Walter had to be used obviously.)
 Overwhelmed
A party gets out of hand when some harsh words are thrown around. Henry is there to pick up the pieces, but it’s not always so easy healing your broken mind. (Based on this original ask)
Warning: 18+ smutty content, RPF, minor alcohol consumption, bullying, minor violence, bad thoughts and self image, mental health issues, panic attacks, comfort, daddy kink (not exactly dd/lg, but could have undertones), oral (f receiving), Henry being a gentleman and expecting nothing in return 🤭, multiple orgasms
5.1k words
Any typos are my own
******
This was supposed to be a small get together. That’s what you were told. A plan for a few friends to gather for a couple drinks at home. Maybe you would play some board games.
But a few people quickly turned into loads. And a couple drinks was soon an incessant river of alcohol. Now you found yourself stuck in the middle of a jumping house party.
At least thirty sweaty bodies were packed into the mediocre sized home. And new faces seemed to be showing up every minute. And the only person you knew in this place, Henry, had left to go get you some water when he saw you start to panic. 
This definitely wasn’t your kind of crowd.
Miraculously, he had found a quiet corner for you to wait in. So that is where you waited for him, as patiently as you could. You did your best to remain calm as the loud music thudded in the other room. The vibrations rattled your throbbing head. You leaned against the wall in the empty hallway, sighing.
Why did social gatherings like this overwhelm you? It always seemed like a good idea in theory. A place to meet with people, an opportunity to make new friends. But your imbalanced brain had a way of ruining things. You could never enjoy yourself. And you were sure you weren’t a joy to be around when you got overstimulated like this.
Wait for Henry, you told yourself. Don’t get too worked up. He will be back soon.
You heard footsteps approaching, so you lifted your head with a weak smile. You were expecting him to return, and all would be well again. Only it wasn’t him. Instead it was the host of the party, the one who told you it was a small gathering.
Jake. A friend of Henry’s. One that always gave you bad vibes. You bit your tongue with your bad feelings about him. If your man liked him, so should you. You were being paranoid. As always.
“Hi, Jake.” You wiped the anxious sweat from your brow, offering him a polite smile. “Quite the party.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you left already.” His voice seemed to be laced with distaste, but you figured you were imagining it. 
“I’m waiting for Henry. He left to get us some water.” You explained, wiping your damp palms on your thighs.
“Your little errand boy, right?”
“H-Huh?” You uttered in confusion. Errand boy?
“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you? You say jump and he says how high.” He spat, crossing his arms
“Jake, I’m not-” Perhaps you were about to stick up for yourself, but he cut you off again so the words died in your throat.
“He can’t seem to go anywhere without you tagging along. Asking him for a guys night is like pulling teeth. Always spending time with the old ball and chain. You’re nagging him 24/7, aren’t you?” He scoffed.
“No, I…” You trailed off, thinking long and hard. Did you nag him?
Jake gave you hardly any time to think before spurting out more insults.
“Y’know I never could see what he saw in you. No one can. The man can get anyone. Everyone knows that. So why does he go and pick a ugly slag like you?” He jabbed, and you felt your eyes prick.
Your chest tightened. That was a question you asked yourself everyday. Everytime you woke up next to Henry. When he greeted you with a kiss and a smile. A beautiful way to start the day. But deep down it made you feel vulnerable. 
What did you do to deserve him? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were nobody. A nobody with a broken mind. 
“Why don’t you leave so the man can actually have some fun for once?” He was right. 
You blinked and didn’t say anything. You took his advice though, wobbling away as your heart began to beat quicker. You had to get out of here. The front door never seemed so far away.
You could already feel yourself spiraling as you rounded the corner to the living room. It was packed and loud. More people shuffled into your sight range. With each new face, it felt harder to breathe. You were suffocated.
You inhaled shakily, stumbling a little. You collided with a hard body, and as you were about to whip around a pair of hands cupped your shoulders. You tried to turn and apologize, but the person spoke.
“Darling? Are you alright?” Henry. You looked at him, taking in his features. He was here to protect you. But why weren’t you able to calm down? 
His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. Everything was muffled. The people, the music, his voice. It all sounded far away. Like you were underwater. 
Your breathing was labored, your brain dissociating when the panic almost overtook you. The only way you were going to survive this was by detaching your mind from your body.
You felt yourself being moved. His solid presence was behind you, holding you by your shoulders. Your attention was focused on the floor. Pairs of shuffling shoes invaded your vision as he guided you through the crowd.
The fresh air entered your lungs when he got you outside. Cool and refreshing, unlike the stuffy hot air inside the house. Your hands shook as you reached up to hold your face, hiccuping when you were forced back to reality.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.” His hand gently laid on your back, not crowding you.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe in against my hand here.” He placed his other palm on your stomach, a gentle reminder to breathe in through your diaphragm.
You closed your eyes, inhaling as you concentrated on not panicking. Your breathing was shaky but it did wonders to calm you. His soft voice rang in your ears, praising you.
“There she is, good girl. I knew you could do it, I knew you could work yourself down.” He murmured. 
He stroked your moist cheek, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. You leaned into his touch, your rapid heart slowing.
“Darling, what happened in there?” His face showed his worry.
“I… I got a little overwhelmed. That’s all.” You murmured while glancing down at the ground. He didn’t need to know about your encounter with Jake.
He rubbed the base of your neck sympathetically. He could tell there was more. Something was bothering you.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize it would be so crowded.” He kissed your temple as he apologized.
“It’s alright. Neither of us could have known Jake would invite everyone he knew.” You gave him a weak smile, shaking your head.
You thought you kept your tone even while speaking about that wretched man. Henry caught it. He didn’t let his surprise be known. He was confused by your sudden annoyance towards Jake, who you tolerated before.
“Let’s go home, princess. I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.” He took your hand, kissing your knuckles while giving you a dazzling smile.
You frowned, disappointed in yourself for not being able to handle a simple house party. He had seemed really excited about this get together. Even as more people showed up, he kept his smile and light heartedness. That was until your mood had dropped.
Jake was right. Henry couldn’t have fun with you around. You ruin everything. Quickly, you had to fix this.   
“No, no- I’m okay. I-I only needed a breather.” You shook your head frantically, swallowing. You grimaced when you realized how dry your throat was.
His expression dropped slightly, resembling a scold. He held the water out to you after opening it, silently urging you to drink. You took the bottle sheepishly, sipping from it slowly. 
“We’re not staying here anymore. We need to go home and decompress. Both of us.” He sighed when you pouted, softening his features as he rubbed your shoulders. He leaned in, kissing between your brows as you furrowed them.
“I really need to snuggle my favorite girl right now, okay? We can have a nice bubble bath. I’ll wash you up then maybe we can watch a movie after I get you into some warm pajamas.” He leveled with you, cupping your cheek.
“Okay...” You smiled weakly. Cuddling with him sounded better than anything. 
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He started to turn towards the car.
“Hey, you two!” A voice called out from behind you, a familiar one that made you both freeze. For different reasons.
Henry spun around first, a grin on his face as he greeted his friend. They embraced in a hug as you turned slowly, trying to keep a polite smile. You hoped Jake would just let you two go without any snide comment.
The man in question spared you a glance as Henry patted his shoulder. 
“Hey, man. This has been quite the party. Y/N and I had a great time.” 
“Really? You’re leaving so soon.” Jake questioned, his brow raising in suspicion.
“Oh, I’ve got an early meeting in the morning. My manager contacted me with some stuff about emergency re-shoots. You know how it goes, man.” He quickly came up with a solid excuse, smooth as ever.
“Yeah, I know how it goes. It’s whatever the lady says right, pal?” Jake took a hearty swig of his beer, staring your man in the eye as his face dropped. You shifted on your feet, looking down in shame.
 “Sorry?” 
“Tell me, does she carry your balls around in her purse? Because you seem to have lost your pair.” He bit out viciously, the liquid courage burning in his chest.
“What did you just say?” Henry reared up, taking one long stride to get right in the other man’s face. 
His brows were pinched angrily. Jake’s eyes widened in the slightest, but the alcohol in his system was making him braver. He didn’t back down.
“You heard me. Ever since she’s been tagging along, you’ve turned into an utter bore. Must be some good pussy, because it seems to have sucked the life out of you.” He spit.
The anger that flashed on your boyfriend’s face was bone-chilling. In the blink of an eye, he had the smaller man’s collar clenched in his fists. Yanking him upwards, Henry shook him while growling.
“Do you think the fact that you’re hammered is going to keep me from punching your teeth in? I’m going to make you regret disrespecting her.” He growled dangerously.
You finally came to your senses when you saw him pull his fist backwards. Jake flinched. Thankfully you were able to stop your boyfriend before his knuckles were to connect with the drunk’s jaw.
“Don’t.” You gasped softly, catching his gaze while holding his arm in both of your hands. His eye twitched as his fist clenched tighter. You felt the tendons in his forearm jerk. You squeezed reassuringly.
You shook your head silently, a wordless plea for him to not escalate this. Punching him would only make things worse. Jake wasn’t worth it.
The anger dissipated from his face as he gazed at you. He lowered his fist, while his other hand on Jake’s collar loosened. Henry was about to let him go completely, until Jake scoffed under his breath.
“Pfft. Pussy-whipped.”
The actor’s face twisted once more. You sighed, cursing the hammered bastard mentally. He wasn’t making this any easier. You could tell Henry was still itching to beat him mercilessly. Said man grunted, your hand falling from his arm as he gripped Jake’s collar once more.
The large man lifted the smaller one off the ground. At least three feet upwards before tossing him on the grass in the front yard. You grimaced as he fell on his back in a heavy heap. Luckily Henry chose to drop him in the grass, as opposed to the pavement. 
You could see Jake’s ego wounded immediately, and you would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. You crossed your arms, holding in a sigh as Henry bent down to talk to him.
“Don’t bother trying to apologize tomorrow when you sober up. Or else I’ll be forced to come back here and finish what I started.” He stood up, glaring at him for one last moment before he turned to you.
“Let’s go.” He whispered, walking behind you as he led you to the car. He kept you from even sparing at glance at Jake.  
You were silent as he got you in the car, looking down at your lap as he got in the driver's seat. He looked at you, you could feel his stare burning into you. Shame kept you from looking at him.
“Darling… Did Jake say something to you earlier?” He finally broke the silence. 
You opened your mouth, before closing it with a nod. Tears welled up as you recalled his hurtful words. From earlier in the night, and from now.
“What did he say to you?” He prodded.
You finally looked at him, and his jaw ticked when he saw your puffy eyes. Right then, he felt like going back and beating that idiot to a pulp for making his baby girl cry.  Your sniffles broke his heart.
“I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.” You hiccuped, shaking your head. 
“Is that what got you so upset?” His voice was soft, almost broken with guilt. He should have never left you alone. 
You shrugged, Jake’s badgering surely didn’t help your already overstimulated mind. Henry bit his lip as he was forced to push away his anger to comfort you. He stroked your hair, rubbing your shoulder.
“Baby..” He trailed off, being interrupted by you.
“I just want to go home. And take that bubble bath you promised.” You begged, causing him to sigh and let it go for now. He gave you a smile.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let's go home.” He kissed your cheek before pulling away, turning the car on and driving.
Your eyelids were heavy, your head resting on your hand. You let them close for the rest of the car ride home. Your silence was making him want to squirm, but he did his best to not show his displeasure. It killed him to see you so upset.
When he parked he was sure you had fallen asleep, but you surprised him by lifting your head. He turned the car off, reaching to cup your cheek.
“Are you okay, my baby girl?” He searched your face for any more signs of tears. He saw only the dried streaks from earlier. 
You gave him a weak smile, and it did little to mend his broken heart. He matched your smile though, stroking your hair away from your face as you leaned into his hand.
“I’m okay. I promise.” Your voice was softer, smaller.
He leaned forward to kiss you, and you kissed back half heartedly. Henry pulled away, knowing you were still trying to put on a brave face for him.
His brave girl. You didn’t always have to be strong. That’s what he was here for. He wasn’t going to push you. You would talk to him eventually. You always did. 
“Let’s get inside, pumpkin.” He kissed your knuckles before getting out of the car. Of course he opened your door and helped you out.
You held his hand as he led you inside. He knelt in front of you once he closed the door, working on taking your heels off for you.
“You look so beautiful tonight… I still can’t believe you gave a man like me even a chance.” He murmured the last part to himself, rubbing your ankles when your shoes were gone.
You couldn’t quell the quiver of your lip. You’re the one who didn’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. Jake was right. What does a man like him see in a woman like you?
You masked with a smile, stroking his hair as he kissed your clothed hips. He watched you carefully, still on his knees in front of you.
“What do I have to do for you to see how perfect you are?” He whispered as he nuzzled your stomach, squeezing you close.
You hiccuped quietly. Your fingers weaved into his hair, feeling his silky curls between your digits. The sensation calmed you a little.
Soon, his warmth pulled away and when you opened your eyes again, he was standing. He cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing your flesh.
“I promised you a bubble bath. Come on, sweetheart.” He bent down to kiss your nose. You smiled lightly. 
You both went into the master bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet lid. He turned to mess with the knobs on the large tub. The water filled the basin, then he added bubbles. 
You took a deep breath, the soft smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled your nostrils. The scent caused you to relax, the sound of the water lulling you into a calm state.
Henry stood up, helping you stand and start to undress. His fingers unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the tile floor. You shivered when his digits trailed over your form. They hooked on your panties and pulled them down your legs.
He helped you into the tub, and you let out a sigh as you sunk into the warm, scented water. The bubbles covered your chest, and you let yourself rest for a second. He stroked your hair, an added comfort to the warm bath.
“How does that feel, darling?” He spoke softly, his hands disappearing. You heard liquid being poured into a glass.
The sneaky devil had snagged a bottle of your favorite wine before coming up here. He was pouring it into the stemmed glass. Somehow you hadn’t noticed he grabbed it. He glanced back at you with a smirk. How did he know exactly what you needed?
“It feels perfect.” You whispered, in awe of this man. He handed you the wine, and you took a smooth sip. You hummed.
Well, it was almost perfect. There was one thing missing.
“Come in with me?” You blinked up at him, your hand wrapped around his wrist when he went to sit beside the tub.
He melted, nodding his head instantly. Anything you wanted, he would not hesitate to give to you. And anything he couldn’t do, it killed him that he wasn’t able to fulfill your every need. Thankfully, this was a simple request. He began to undress as you set the glass aside.
You watched him unashamed. This beautiful man was yours. All yours. You felt your heart begin to swell. As it always did when you thought about the fact that you were his and he was yours.
How did something like that happen to someone like you? It was unbelievable.
You scooted forward as he lowered himself in. He dragged you back into his chest after he was seated, making you relax in his embrace. He began to wash you, his breath ghosting over your shoulder as he kissed it.
“It kills me seeing you so upset.” Henry finally spoke after a lull of comfortable silence.
You pouted, feeling guilty about worrying him. Before you could open your mouth to apologize, he cut you off.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” He turned your head, looking at you seriously. “None of this is your fault.”
You closed your mouth, swallowing your apology as he stroked your cheek. He sighed to himself as he traced your lower lip with his thumb.
“It took every ounce of my self control not to beat him to a bloody pulp for disrespecting you.” His voice was flat.
The protective tone he held made your heart skip a beat, and a tingle to grow between your legs. A smile ghosted your lips, your hand coming up to cup his face.
“I know. I’m starting to think I should have let you.” You cracked a smile. A real one.
“I would have. All you have to do is ask.” He turned to kiss your palm. You laid your head on his shoulder, his arms around you making you feel safe. 
“I know you would.” 
Your words had the whisper of sadness. He was perfect. Too perfect for you. There must be a catch. Henry kissed the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
“Do you want to talk about what he said to you?” He murmured, dragging the washcloth down your arms.
You sighed, his touch easing you enough to talk about it. You tell him your encounter with Jake, from the very beginning. Tears burned in your eyes as you retold the story, but they didn’t fall as you repeated his hateful words.
“He said you were too good for me. And no one understands what you see in me.” You looked at him, blinking away your tears. You don’t tell him the harsher words Jake uttered to you. No reason for him to get angry again.
“And you believed him.” It wasn’t a question. He could tell by your expression that the drunk’s words resonated deep within you. 
You shrugged. He kissed the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. He sighed, his nose pressed against your skin.
“I wish I had the words to change your mind, my love. I don’t like the way you view yourself. While you think I’m too good for you, I believe in the opposite. It is you who is too good for me.
Every morning when I wake up next to you, I always ask myself one thing. ‘What did a fool like me do to deserve such an amazing, beautiful woman?’. I still don’t have an answer.”
He kissed the side of your face, his lips next to your ear. You shivered, hanging onto every word as his hands rubbed your sides.
“But I try not to dwell on it. Because every moment I spend with you is a gift. And I much rather enjoy it and then spend our time together stressing.”
You nuzzled him as he squeezed you. You sniffled, his words calming your woeful heart. You pressed your lips to his cheek, whispering against his skin. 
“Thank you, Henry. You always know how to fix things.”
“Anything for my precious girl. Anymore wine, sweetheart?” He offered you the almost empty glass. You shook your head, gesturing for him to finish it.
He winked at you and tossed it back. You watched as his tongue came out to lick the rest off his lips. Your mouth watered. His taste was intoxicating by itself, mixed with the sweet wine it had to be heavenly.
 You decided not to wonder any longer, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, deepening the kiss as he stroked your tongue with his. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his half hard cock twitch against your spine.
He grunted, smirking as he nipped at your lower lip. He squeezed your hips, pulling away. His nose brushed against yours.
“Let’s get out and dry off, shall we? Get into some warm pajamas and then you can pick a movie to watch.”
You grinned as you started to brainstorm about which movie you were going to pick. You were off in your own world as he helped you out of the tub. He quickly dried himself. Then gently patted your body dry with a fresh towel.
You hummed a soft tune, a sign to Henry that you were starting to feel like yourself again. The material of the soft towel was making you relax. Your skin still smelled of vanilla, as did his. 
He kissed the top of your head after he was done, both of you still nude until he wrapped the towel around you. You kept stealing glances at his naked form. He smirked to himself.
“Go wait for me on the bed. I’ll pick out something comfortable for you to wear.” He pecked your lips, patting your side to urge you towards the bedroom.
You bit your lip and nodded, leaving him in the bathroom. You made sure you weren’t dripping any water before sitting on the edge of the bed. You grabbed the remote, browsing for something to watch.
Henry entered, fully clothed now as he held a pair of clothes for you in one hand. In the other, a bottle of lotion.
“I’ll get you dressed, but first-lotion.” He knew your routine.
You smiled at him, watching him massage the lotion into your shoulders and arms. He lowered the towel to get your back as he sat behind you. Your eyes were closed, listening to his breathing as he lathered you up.
His large hands spread over your chest. He weighed your breasts in his palms as his thumbs lightly grazed your nipples. You moaned softly, leaning into him. His lips touched your ear, kissing his way down your neck and shoulder.
“Lay back sweet girl.” 
You did so, gazing up at him as he stood at the end of the bed. He gathered some more lotion, rubbing into your feet. You groaned in delight when he massaged your aching soles. The sensation made you melt.
You felt his lips on the sensitive skin on your foot, gently kissing your heel, and each of your toes. He gave the other foot the same attention. His fingers creeped up your legs till he was squeezing your thighs. 
Your legs spread instinctively, presenting your core to him. His eyes became half lidded as a pleased growl tumbled from his lips.
“So beautiful. Every inch of you, darling. There’s not a part of you I don’t love.” He tugged you up on the bed, lowering himself down on his stomach between your legs.
Your breath shook when you felt his mouth against the inside of your thighs. He peppered kisses along your skin as he lifted his hands. You gasped as his fingers bumped your clit. 
“Please, Daddy.” You needed more, squirming in front of him as he teased you.
“Shh, baby girl. Daddys got you. You don’t have to beg. I’m gonna taste this perfect cunt either way.” His breath hit your center as he leaned closer, covering your slit with his mouth as soon as he ended his sentence.
His tongue was hot as it weaved between your lips, seeking out the bundle of nerves hiding. His wet appendage swirled the bead once, twice, before he puckered his lips around it. Henry suckled gently, his large hands holding your thighs apart.
You arched your back and moaned, the stimulation making your gut tighten. You reached down to hold onto his hair, tugging lightly when he gave your clit another suck. You couldn’t help it
He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, moaning against your flower as you held onto his curls. He gazed up at you, admiring the look of pleasure on your face. His tongue explored further down, dipping into your leaking hole
You bucked against his mouth, panting as your heart started to thud quickly. Incoherent groans left your mouth as you wiggled on the bed. He held you in place, snarling as he increased the pace of his tongue and lips. You tensed.
He pulled the orgasm from you with skill, your body rolling. Moans of wanton pleasure escaped you, falling apart from his lips. Your skin didn’t stop tingling until he finally pulled away.   
You panted and opened your eyes when his mouth disappeared. His lips and chin were shiny, his smirk large as you got bashful at the sight of him.
“Mmm, you taste delicious. As always. Wish I could eat you all day.” He growled, one of his hands going back to your pussy. Your jaw dropped open as he traced your puffy slit.
You inhaled as he sunk a finger into you, your hole closed around it eagerly as you clenched down. He moaned under his breath, his gaze attached to the way your body swallowed his digit inside. 
“So tight, baby girl. It feels so nice to just relax and let Daddy make you feel good, doesn’t it? I love seeing you squirm. I want you to cum again. Can you do that for Daddy, beautiful?”  
You nodded quickly. He added a second finger, almost like he knew you needed it. You concentrated on the feeling of his fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls. He found your special spot with no problem, growling when you let out a cry.
“There you go, good girl.” He grunted, shaking his fingers inside you. You squealed, and Henry moaned at the sound. “Cum for me, princess. Cum for daddy.”
He toyed with your g-spot, his lips finding your nub again. The sensations all blended together, and soon you lost yourself in another orgasm. You sobbed, gripping his head between your thighs and you arched off the bed.
He gulped down all that you gave, rutting his fingers into you to pull you through the tendrils of euphoria. Your body relaxed as your orgasm subsided. He finally pulled away with one last lingering lick of your cunt.
“Are you still with me, gorgeous?” He chuckled when you hummed and nodded lazily. “Did you decide on a movie to watch?”
You pouted silently as you glanced down at his groin. He was obviously aroused, yet wasn’t expecting you to return the favor. You wanted to take care of him. Your hand rested on his thigh. He chuckled, lifting your hand to kiss it. 
“That’s nothing for you to worry about right now, darling. You need to rest. Now, have you decided on a movie?” He questioned you again.
“Lilo and Stitch.” You murmured as he stood up, your gaze following him.
“Lilo and Stitch it is then.” He grinned leaning over you to peck your lips. You could taste a hint of your own essence on his tongue.
Henry dressed you in the warm pajamas he picked out of you beforehand. You sighed in content, smiling up at him as he switched on the movie. He smiled back at you, scooting onto the bed and pulling you close. You snuggled him, your face in his chest.
“I love you, Darling. Don’t ever forget that. No matter how bad your thoughts might get, I want you to remember how much I love you. You mean everything to me.” His voice vibrated in his chest, and you lifted your head to fixate on him.
“I love you, Henry. You’re my everything. I don’t think I could live without you.” You whispered, your eyes locked.
“Good thing you won’t have to. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” He smiled, kissing you with a pleasant hum. You giggled.
“Now let’s watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’. Who’s the little blue guy again?”
******
A/N: Slowly chipping away at my inbox. Thank you for your patience as I slowly complete your requests. I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for months. Some things in my personal life have affected my mental health negatively, and I haven't been writing as much. Recently I've been easing my way back into writing, and I want to start being more active on here. I love you all, I feel like I don't tell you that enough. I’m sorry when I go MIA 😭❤️
Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602
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bigbropyro · 9 months
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@farmerderry/beta pup trooper and lil bro, has made a profound difference in my life and I can't even begin to put the emotions into words. I want you to know him better so I'm going to try.
Pup trooper started as a "pet name" that he picked because it means that he keeps getting up when he's knocked down. I use pet names for people I talk to frequently and they pick one that makes them feel special when I say it.
He makes me feel protective. He has childhood trauma from his dad beating him, even a unexpected slap on the butt can trigger a ptsd attack that causes him to cry and shake. He has nightmares that keep him from getting a full night's sleep and it pulls at my heart strings.
His family didn't help him while he was being abused, and he has no local support network. We talk every day, and it's common for us to talk for almost 6 hours in a row and still have things to say.
He challenges me. Trooper is a synthetic chemistry grad student and we talk about that often. I can usually keep up with him, but he knows more than I do about that subject. I'm learning new things trying to understand and keep up with him.
Trooper is sad all the time, he is stressed out at work, and only has one person to hang out with or talk to and he is two hours away. He is halfway through his phd, and he is considering leaving the program because of how unhappy he is in Pittsburgh.
He gets along great with @deliberatelydiapered my other lil bro and it's heartwarming to see them play together.
Trooper wears and uses diapers 24/7 and is actively trying to loose his continence. Diapers make him feel safe and confident but they are expensive, it's tough for him to afford them because his college won't allow him to get a second job and he is paid below average.
Trooper was a pup and into more for a long time before I met him and feels so alone because padded pups are shunned in the local community and is alone.
He is shy and reserved. He has a hard time meeting new people because he gets anxious and stuck in his head with "what ifs" and with my encouragement he's becoming more social.
He has dyslexia and struggles with grammar and I point out his mistakes, and he's getting MUCH better with spelling and grammar. He has to work twice as hard to read books as his peers.
His favorite diaper is bambino teddies(rip). His favorite color is Cobalt blue.
He likes riding his atv, and his favorite pass time is playing Pokémon on his Gameboy. He plays several other games across different platforms and is a huge nerd about it and will talk for hours trying to explain it to you.
He goes out of his way to make you happy, and he'd give you the shirt off his back if you need it. He enjoys giving other people gifts, even though it's hard for him to afford them.
Trooper has come an very long way in a short time. He's more confident and outgoing, and he's beginning to explore his little side. He sees me as a role model and I'm very proud of that. He has 25 years of trauma he still needs to process and I am grateful he chose me to trust and include me in his life.
Thank you lil bro, I love you.
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ornii · 1 year
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Folie à deux
The Madness of Two,
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2020, The Grammys.
Your feet pattered the limousine floor as you checked your watch, a slight panic in your face. It was the Grammys this night and with your almost meteoric rise to stardom, this is the first time you’ve felt, Anxious about it. You take a deep breath and relax, slowly letting the world fade around you. It always seems so otherworldly.
It all began with posting a few SoundCloud songs, eventually one blew up and it seems your music name began to make the rounds. Taking that opportunity, you released an album under your name and it spread like Wildfire, big Celebes we’re posting snippets on social media and overnight, you somehow took over the world.
Media deals. Record Labels, Advertisers, all were hounding for you. The next big thing, and it seems it all lead to a climax and here you were. Pulling up to the Grammys, you took a few deep breaths and waited for the door to be opened for you, as your chauffeur did, cameras flashed, cheers and screams were all over the place. You put on a smile and head inside to the main foyer, you were greeted by the obvious managers of said Grammys and was Starstruck by those inside, Multi record winning Artists, people who are considered gods. You were standing with somehow. Your awe was cut off by a voice.
“Mr (L/N)?” They ask, you turn around to a woman with a mic, not a reporter but the woman managing the seating.
“I’m glad you made it safe, if it’s okay with you, you’ll be seated next to Ortega.” She said, you raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Brian Ortega? I didnt know he liked the Grammys.” You say and she chuckles.
“No no, Miss Ortega.” She said; which Just confused you even more, you shrugged.
“Uh, Sure.” You say, you began to mingle, trying to keep up appearances as some of the most influential artists Dawned your presence. Ranging from Movie directors like Spielberg, to Multi Grammy winners like Canadas own, Aubrey Graham, better known as Drake. Ten minutes to countdown you reach your seat and relax. Everyone begins to get ready, and your train of though was on what you would say if you would, could possibly win a Grammy.
“Hey.” A Voice draws your attention and you turn to face it, and your eyes laid upon someone that made the world grind to a halt, all you could see were those beautiful eyes, soft skin and a smile that could make the darkest moments in your life shine like a supernova. and it finally dawned on you, you’re Sitting next to, Jenna Ortega. You remember when Iron Man 3 was released in Theaters, and the Vice Presidents daughter that Tony had to save, that was her! And stuck in the middle! It took moments for you to realize the impact She actually had on you.
“O-oh! Hi!” You day, your voice cracking slightly as you try not to get lost in her eyes. She offers a slight handshake and you take it, not really able to speak.
“Jenna.” She says.
“Y-yeah I’ve seen a lot of your movies I—“ you begin, but stop trying not to sound like a fanboy in front of her. She genuinely smiles at her.
“Thanks. I don’t mean to pry but you are working on more music right? With that much talent you can’t stop right?” She says and you nod.
“Anything for you.” You thought, “Shit that’s creepy why did I say that?! JUST BE COOL.” You think and nod.
“Yeah, didnt think I’d get this far, nice to meet someone my age, makes me less anxious.
“I know, feels kind heavy, doesn’t it?” She says, “All these celebs, kinda feels weird being here.” She says awkwardly. And you build up the courage to utter one sentence.
“It should, you deserve to be here.” You say, it actually catches her off guard and she can only smile and say “Thanks.”, genuinely. You two hush as the ceremony begins. It was fairly uneventful, besides You and Tyler the Creator tweeting memes at each other, before the first set of awards were given, and one of the main four was presented. Best New Artist of the Year, it was heavily contested, Alaina Castillo, Summer Walker, Normani, Giveon. You definitely wanted Giveon, Heartbreak anniversary was your jam. As Keke Palmer took the stage she has the envelope and smiles.
“Good luck.” You hear Jenna say from the side and, that boosts your confidence to levels you couldn’t imagine.
“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to… Your Very own! (Y/n) (L/n)!” She says and the crowd explodes, the look of shock was on your face, you rose up being congratulated by many, Jenna claps for you as you approach the stage, still stunned. You take the Grammy with a look of sheer luck and disbelief, you stand there at the Mic and just stand there for a moment.
“Uh- Sorry i had no idea I was gonna be here.” You say and they laugh, you shrug it off.
“Well, I suppose I should say something.. first thing is, well it’s been a crazy year, I went from barley making college payments to buying my parents a new house, cars, anything they could ever want and, it’s all thanks to you all.” Your anxiety was soon filled with sadness and cheers began to bellow.
“You all don’t know how much this means to me, thank you. And, god bless you all.” You raise the Grammy to a rousing applause, you return back to your seat and wipe a few tears. But a tissue was handed to you, but none other than Jenna. You two share a smile and keep the Ceremony going, but I hope you didn’t expect just one.
“Song of The Year! Album of The Year! Record of the Year!” After the third one you hear the song play as you head up with the last one and you take it, and you turn to everyone awkwardly.
“Okay i didnt expect to be up here four times.” You say to more laughter, you try to keep it short and sweet. “Seriously this is becoming a bad trend, I’m just some kid from nowhere, and you all believed in me, and I’m so glad you put your trust in me, in us. My team, my family, my fans, these are all for you.” You hold up the fourth Grammy and as usual it was arousing applause.
Nearing the End of the celebration you walk out of the Grammys with Four, FOUR; in your first appearance there. Two under your arms and to in your hands. You attempt to show them all laughing. But before you can continue you turn around to Jeanna who’s taking pictures of her own and motion her over, to take pictures with you, she rolls her eyes sarcastically as the anxiety and fear washed away to golden confidence. You both pose for the pictures and they flash so desperate for a header and they got one.
“(Y/n) (L/n) and Jenna Ortega? What could this mean for the two blossoming stars?”
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evilwickedme · 10 months
Text
This wasn't asked for because nobody in their right mind would ask for this but this is a fic rec list of fics I cannot stop rereading
Just started yet another reread of Inimitable Verse by deniigiq and I fully plan on rereading their into the multiverse series which occasionally crosses over also - this is a Spider-Man/team red focused series, think comics canon infused early mcu-spidey since only homecoming had come out for a non substantial amount of time they were working on the series and the daredevil stuff is explicitly tv show AND comics. Also the multiverse series is how I got into Murderdock and therefore how I got into Spider Gwen
Unpretty's Sorrowful And Immaculate Hearts series which is just a loosely interconnected series of DC fics. My personal favorites are Empty Graves, in which Martha Kent keeps killing time travelers trying to kill baby! Clark; any of their clois fics but especially Third Wheel; and Anti-Social, which is a social media fic mostly about Tim and Bruce that made me cry laughing. Catch Bruce trying to get Walmart's employees to unionize. Also shout out to unpretty's only fic with Jason in it, it looks awesome but is tragically incomplete
This particular Reverse Robin AU which put in the work to reverse every single younger generation and is chef's kiss I LOVE this version of Tim he's wild
Both of Shoalsea's fics are in constant rotation for me I talk about Into The Brighter Night all the time in the tags of reblogs and stuff it truly lives in my head rent free. Anyway Tim gets kidnapped by aliens and the batfam have to watch as yj98 saves him and it's angsty and funny and such a good take on what could have been if the new 52 hadn't happened. And Compassion Builds No House is about Tim and Pru from Red Robin. Ugh they're both so good
Speaking of Clois (I did you've just forgotten this by now) brilliant (like a confession) by kathkin (penny-anna on the hellsite) is so fucking good I'm. Okay. Anyway it'll be listed as inspiration if/when I finally post my two person love triangle fic for them
I'm too anxious to catch up on this before it's done but jumble sale chic is hands down the best spideydevil fic series despite and because of the omegaverse
Make A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is my favorite take on Jason, period, and has a lot of fantastic Damian stuff going on too. It's updating every few weeks still! Sometimes more often! I love you bacondoughnut it's me JustGail the person who will not stop commenting on your fic you're stuck with me forever
I lied above Rumspringa Murderdock is what got me into Murderdock but that series is second place. I found this one while scrolling through the tv show's mattfoggy tag, thinking I was safe
Speaking of Murderdock mattfoggy, The Lawyer All the Wickedness was written early on in spider-gwen's history and so diverges from canon really early in ways that I think are super interesting and creative
Oh also straight on 'til morning by merils (Tumblr url mamawasatesttube) does SUCH a great job unpacking Kon's trauma and building up healthy relationships around him including a budding timkon romance and yeah it makes me sad and happy at the same time
We're getting into poisonivory territory so just trust if you like the pairing and poisonivory is writing it you'll like it. Ok rapidfire
Like A Handprint On My Heart mattfoggy soulmate au with a twist
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Damijon future fic/au. Jon came back from the future when both of them were 19. Demisexual!Damian at its best. Damian's terrified of being abandoned by Jon again and it made my heart hurt
I feel like I've already recommended every JayRoy fic by poisonivory and genuinely I do reread them all, sometimes in order of publication if I'm in a particular mood. Maybe the one I've read most though is I've Got the Feeling You're the Right Thing After All which is about Roy and Jason starting a fwb thing while Roy still harbors old feelings for Dick. Can't see anything going wrong here lmao
Mmm this post is long enough so I'll leave it at just superhero fic for now but I do in fact have the ability to do a whole post just for the Witcher or Leverage so I might do that. Anyway thanks for following me on yet another burst of insanity it will happen again
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heartcomms · 8 months
Text
days over a minute
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pairing: abby anderson x reader
a/n: this is my very first time writing anything I post so please keep that in mind <3 also if this is similar to anything i apologise, i admit i’ve been inspired by multiple works on here so.. i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: swearing, allusions of drug addiction, violence, abby is really terrible but it gets better i promise
wc: 3k
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as the car got closer to your new home stadium, your felt air get stuck in your throat. you knew your social media team kept a smaill camera focused on you to capture small candid moments to share with fans of the club, so you tried your best to remain calm.
as if he could tell how nervous you were getting, your new manager’s voice interrupted your inner chatter. still trying to get used to the accent, your eyes followed to where the older man was pointing and listened carefully,
“this is the hotel where you’ll be staying for today, i’ll have my assistant carry your luggages there while you visit the stadium.” he casually said. he might’ve noticed the way your brows faintly knitted at the mention of your luggages.
you did feel a bit uncomfortable with the idea of people pampering you, people scrambling to meet your needs and expectations. you still haven’t coped with the fact that you had, or were about to sign a multiple million dollars contract to run behind a ball.
you looked back at your manager and nodded you head with a small smile to ease the tension that was building up in the car. he just looked back at you sternly and whispered word as he turned his head back to the window.
well. what a start.
you also focused back on the road. as the car pulled into a small tunnel, you caught glimpse of your reflection in the car window. corners of your mouth rise a bit as you watch your golden pendant shine, your hand found its way around it, something you did often to calm yourself.
faster than you realized, the driver had parked into the training academy’s parking lot. you let the older man with you in the car come out first and quickly followed his steps. as you got out of the car, you were greeted by another group of people, three men and a woman that introduced herself to quickly as she guided you and your team into the building.
while she tried to engage into small chatter to fill the blanks, aware of the interaction being filmed. you were again introduced to more and more people as you walked around the spacious building, finally the conversations and introductions stopped you reach your new team’s head coach office.
as you shook the man’s hand, it all suddenly became real. this was it - you were a professional soccer player now.
you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and took in your surroundings, the background chatter all blurred. this was it - you were a professional soccer player now. the excitement was building up inside you, but so was the pressure, you knew that all eyes would be on you, both on and off the field, you couldn't help but feel a wave of doubt wash over you.
did you deserve to be here?
could you live up to the expectations of your new team and fans?
you pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment. you were here, and you were ready to give it your all. the journey wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to make the most of this opportunity.
the day went by faster than you would realize. you had to sign a couple more contracts, get to know the grounds where you will play and train, do interviews, and photoshoots.
it was bit later in the afternoon, you did went back to hotel to get ready for your first outing in london, with your new teammates. to say you were nervous was an understatement. you wouldn’t describe yourself as introverted but you did feel a bit anxious about meeting your new teammates, like anyone else would.
what if they didn’t like you ? tons of what ifs scenarios filled your thoughts before you took a breath as you stood in front of your bathroom’s mirror, trying to calm you nerves. you took last good look at yourself and texted lewis, your new manager, that you were ready. you carefully chose an outfit that was simple yet fitting with the help of two friends back in your hometown via facetime. you opted for a black, oversized blouse paired with matching black jeans. anticipating a lot of walking, you wore a pair of black loafers and added tiny pieces of jewelry to polish off your outfit.
you went to check your phone after hearing the device ring, it was lewis telling you he was waiting for you outside the hotel so you quickly grabbed your bag and went to meet the older man outside the hotel.
the drive was less tense than it was this morning, you did get to know lewis a little more, he was born and raised in north london so he knew the city very well, he insisted on giving you a tour in a few days. he had 2 daughters who loved football as much as he did and a little dog called elon, after elon musk, which made you frown a bit because why on earth would you name anything after that man?
when you pulled to the restaurant, you felt your heart bit a little faster than earlier and your hands getting a bit more clammy. you took a deep breath and followed lewis who was already out of the car waiting for you. as he locked the car, he smiled at you with a reassuring look,
“it’s going to be okay, be yourself, i’m sure they’ll like you alright.” he affirmed before you both walked into the restaurant. he showed you the way to the table where your teammates sat as you reached the table, you felt yourself stumbled on your feet and stepped back a bit. you didn’t expect to meet 22 people at once, wow. you did know you were meeting a whole team but the sight of all 22 women did shake you up a bit.
“hi, are you the new girl ?” your head turned in the direction of the woman who spoke to you, looking at her, you felt like you were seventeen again. you were taken back by how gorgeous the woman was. the restaurant’s dim lighting made her tanned skin beam, she had a mole above her plump red lips and one on her left cheek. her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, so light they were almost grey and she had brown hair that was highlighted by some dark blonde streaks. she had on a black strapless top, a black mini skirt and a pair of black heels. she had a soft smile on her lips and held eye contact with you as you stuttered an answer.
“uh. yes. i’m y/n.” you tried your best to reciprocate the smile she had on.
“i like your name. i’m vladlena, but everyone calls me lena. come, i’ll introduce you to the girls.” you noticed a small accent, you couldn’t quite locate it but it did sound east european, maybe russian. vladlena took you by the arm and led you closer to the table.
“guys, y/n is here!” she cheered.
you smiled and whispered an ‘hi’ to the women at the table. vladlena, still holding your arm, patted the chair next to the one she was going to sit on, signalling you to sit on it. you both sat and the conversation started again.
“is everyone here, i don’t see andy?” vladlena asked as she looked around the table.
“yeah, she said in the group chat, she’ll be late. some issues with her dad.” a woman that looked like she was your age answered. she also had an accent but she sounded local, british. “oh, i’m leah, by the way, so nice to meet you.” she was a bit far from you, so she just smiled at you. you nodded, smiling back to her.
“speaking of group chat, i’ll add you. you have a english phone number, right?” vladlena asked you as she pulled her phone out of her small bag.
you also pulled out your phone and start reciting the digits.
Waltfield Girls ⚽️
+44 7911 123456 added you
“guys, andy’s here.” a voice far from you announced.
you looked up from your phone to look at the person that was coming in.
oh my god.
you almost dropped your phone when you saw who was coming up to the table. you’d heard your new teammates refer to her as ‘andy’ but you didn’t make the connection. Abigail Anderson. you felt your ears get hot and your palms get clammy as she got closer and closer. you idolised her. you were only a couple of years apart but her talent put years between the two of you two. she was a national hero at only 24 years old, being a well decorated player both with her and the football clubs she played in, her impact in women’s sport was also quite undeniable. you were just in awe. you knew you were going to meet her, you dreaded this part of the day, in fear of embarrassing yourself in front of oh so great anderson.
“hi everyone, sorry i’m so late, had to drop my dad off at airport.” she stated with an apologetic tone and a small smile.
“andy! don’t apologise kotik, it’s okay.” she threw her phone on the table as she stood to up to go hug abigail. abigail hugged her back and quickly kissed vladlena on the forehead and sat at the head of table. vladlena sat on abigail’s lap and got the conversation going again.
abigail’s legs were spread apart leaving just enough space for vladlena’s legs to cross, her tiny skirt riding up. abigail’s left arm rested around vladlena’s slender waist and vladlena’s right arm sat around abigail’s neck. they looked like the jock and cheerleader couple from every single cheesy movie you’ve seen before. you looked away from the pair and glanced around the table. abigail had everyone in this sort of trance. from the moment she sat down, the conversation only revolved around her. even when she didn’t speak, the conversation would somehow comeback to her. you enjoyed listening to everyone talk about their vacations, their world cup anecdotes and latests gossip.
you eventually got to talk to almost everyone on the team during the dinner, you got numbers here and there and warmed up a bit more to the team, as you talked with everyone, you found out that two girls of the team were staying in the same hotel as you, sofia and bruna, the pair played in the brazil national team and just came back from the world cup. they both transferred from their academy a few months ago and still haven’t found a place to permanently reside in. they were kind enough to ask you to join them on their house hunting journey and you gladly accepted.
“guys, let’s take a picture for insta!” vladlena said as she got up to pick up her phone next to your chair.
everyone scurried around abigail to pose for the picture.
“lena, wait. let’s put y/n in the middle, since she’s new.” abigail said while standing up from her chair to let you sit in it.
you felt the hair on your body stand when you heard her say your name. you hesitatingly sat in her chair, thanking her with a shy smile. you sat down on the chair and leaned into it. you flinched a little when you felt hot hands in your shoulders, you tried your hardest to keep the teenage girl squeal that almost came out when you looked up and met abigail’s glance. you quickly looked back at the camera and posed for the picture.
“in the box, ladies !” vladlena chirped.
everyone went back to their seats, and got back to their little chats. you also took time to get to know more of your teammates, then came the time to eat. you’d all decided that you’d all leave before 10pm because you all had practice to tomorrow. sofia and bruna had asked to go back to the hotel you three stayed with them and you had agreed cause why not.
tracy, who sat on the opposite side of you, left first, the entire team huffed when she argued that she missed her daughter.
“she always does this when we go out.” bruna whispered next to me.
after quite sometime more girls started leaving. you also felt time fall on your shoulders and got more and more stale. you tried to keep up with the small conversations around you but failed to register anything. you glanced around the table and noticed that you, bruna, sofia and two other girls that names you forgot were the only ones left at the table. you mentally patted yourself on the back for actually staying that long.
“y/n. we have to go out for a smoke, do you want to come with us ?” you hear bruna say, taking you out of your inner rambling.
“yeah sure, i’ll just go to the bathroom first.” you announced before getting up to look for the bathroom. you almost whistled when you pushed the door of the bathroom. everything was impeccable.
you quickly jumped inside a random stall and you eased yourself. as you stood up to get out of the cabinet, you hear the bathroom door slam and flinched at the person who just entered the bathroom’s voice.
“stop fucking following me, lena, i’m gonna get violent.” the woman said.
you hear heels clanking on the bathroom tiles.
“abby, this isn’t you. look at me babe. you’re not you right now, okay?” you recognised vladlena’s accent.
you sat back on the toilet with your feet up, not wanting to make yourself known. you almost laugh at how nosy you were being.
“where did you put them, you fucking bitch. i fucking told you. i- oh my god,” heavy breaths and heavy steps resonated in the large bathroom.
you flinched again when you heard a thump against the door next to the stall you were in.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, baby, i’m so-,” her heels clanked against, you guessed she was getting closer, to who you assumes was abigail.
“shut the fuck up, you bitch,” she grunted, you tried not to gasp when you heard the slapping noises.
you hear vladlena gasp.
“abby. abby, please. please stop. you’re choking me.” she struggled to let out. abigail was choking her.
you had to get out there. you had to help her.
“where. are. the. fucking. pills. you stupid fucking bitch,” abby grunted again, you could hear vladlena let out small whimpers. you were just stuck, you couldn’t move. your own breath hitched and you felt your entire body got cold. your arms were stuck together around your legs. you just couldn’t believe what you were hearing. vladlena’s gasps got louder, you just shut your eyes, praying she would stop.
“you, you need help, abby,” she whimpered, “i am helping you, kotik.” abby let out a breathy laugh.
“you think you’re helping me, you cunt?,” she spat, ”these pills were prescribed to me, you fucking idiot, they help me more than you ever will, bitch.” she hit vladlena and the poor girl moaned.
“abby. abby, please, please stop. you’re going to kill me.” she gasped again. you knew you had to do something but you just couldn’t move. you knew for a fact that you couldn’t take abigail out in a fight, she was massive, compared to you. you couldn’t come up with anything, your whole mind was blank. you were scared.
you heard struggle noises, vladlena tried to fight abigail back but failed, she gasped again.
“fine, fine, i’ll tell you.”
her heels clanked again and she inhaled again.
“i’m sorry abby. i, i was just trying to, to help you-“, she sniffed.
“do you want to get hit again, you whore?” abby spat. “where are they?”
“no, no!”, vladlena whispered. “i hid them at my place, okay, you take me there and i’ll give them back.”
heavy steps resonated again in the bathroom.
“you try anything funny, i’ll fucking kill you, lena, i’m not fucking joking. let’s go.” she hissed.
heels clanked again.
“wait, babe, i have to clean up. they can’t know.” her voice was low, your heart broke even more.
“10 minutes. i’ll wait for you in my car.” heavy steals resonated again, as well the sound of the door opening and closing behind her.
abigail is deranged. you felt sick.
you heard vladlena sniff again and you before you even registered what you doing, you were out of the stall. vladlena was already looking at you through the mirror. you couldn’t help your heart from breaking into more pieces when you saw the state she was in. her hair was now out of her tight ponytail and disheveled, her red lipstick was smeared and her black mascara and eyeliner had stained her cheeks. her eyes were red and glossy. she had red marks all over her throat.
“did you hear everything?” she didn’t turn around to face you, still looking at you through the mirror. your mouth felt dry, it just fell open but you couldn’t say a word. you just slowly nodded.
she sighed and took tissue out of the dispenser in front of her and made a pile. she pulled a hair tie out of her small bag and tied her hair. she dried her cheeks with one of the tissues for her small pile. you just looked at her. you felt like maybe keeping her company was helping in someway. so you just stood there,
she felt your eyes on her and spoke,
“i’m okay, you know.” she looked back at your reflection, “she needs help. she.. abby, she’s going through something right so. it’s okay. we’re okay.” she gave you a small smile. you tried to give her one back.
“we’re gonna go back home, she’ll have a xanax...or two, we’ll have some makeup sex and she’ll be good as new.” this poor girl. you watched as she pulled out a small concealer container and applied some on her face and on her throat. she winced a little when she tried to blend the concealer on her neck. she applied some mascara and let her hair fall on her shoulders again.
“how do i look?” she said with a smile on her face. this time she turned and looked at you. you couldn’t look at her in the eyes. you fell eye to eye with the poorly covered marks in her neck. you felt like crying.
“hey! eyes up here young woman!” she chuckled. how was she doing all of this. you assumed she was in a denial state about what happened to her. you felt sorry and scared for her. what if it happened again? what if this time abigail didn’t stop?
you worked up the courage to look at her in the eyes. she looked so bright yet so sad.
“y-you look great.” what a fucking loser, you were.
“great!” she turned around and put her things back in her small bag and turned around again,
“hey. i’m okay. yeah?” you nodded, “if anyone asks, and i mean anyone, asks, you say that you caught us having sex in the toilet, okay?” you nodded again. “great! you have my number, right? you call if you need anything, i mean, anything.” before i could react, she wrapped her arms around your body and kissed your cheek,
“you have a goodnight, love. thank you for staying with me.” and with that she left.
you let out air that you didn’t even know you were holding.
what the fuck.
you looked at your reflection and worked up the courage to go back to the girls waiting for you outside. you went back to the table and saw that everyone was gone. you looked around the chairs, looking for your phone and your handbag but failed to find them. exactly what you needed to end the weirdest day of your life.
you hesitated between just sitting back in defeat on a chair and waiting the police to take you out or going to look outside if bruna and sofia were still outside the restaurant. you chose the latest option. you stepped out of the restaurant and luckily, you found bruna, waiting for you with your handbag in her arms. you sighed in relief.
“what took you so long, friend” she said handing you your bag.
“if i tell you won’t believe it.” you plainly stated. she just shrugged and asked if you’d care for a ride back to your hotel. you jumped in the car with her, you didn’t have it in you to deny yourself a free ride. the ride back wasn’t that long, bruna insisted on walking you to your room despite the fact that the both of you had rooms on 2 different floors.
you got into your room and took a quick shower, got into comfy clothes and immediately fell asleep.
***
the next morning, you surprisingly woke one hour before your alarm. after tossing and turning in your bed, you decided to start your day. you check your phone before getting up. 8 am. you scrolled through all the notifications you’ve gotten while you were asleep. you frowned a bit you saw how many you’ve gotten. you check your hometown friends’ groupchat, the conversation was still on going so you scrolled up to see what was going on.
ellie🤍 i got so scared when i got the twitter notif i thought y/n got injured. i was abt to cry. turns out it’s WORSE. MY HERO ABBY💔.
dina💕 ???
ellie🤍 abby injury 💔 she probably won’t play until the next international break
you frowned even harder. what? when did she get injured? mind still foggy, you tapped a quick reply.
you wait ellie where did you hear about this ?
ellie🤍 oh look!!! it’s a professional football player 😨 you’re so busy you don’t even know what’s going with your teammates. wow.
you i’m serious ellie
ellie🤍 wait you fr didn’t know? here’s the link https://twitter.com/waltfieldfc/status/1700793208819622151?s=46
you clicked on the link and read the entire statement.
Waltfield FC @waltfieldfc
We can confirm that Abigail Anderson suffered a ruptured anterior cruciate ligament on Wednesday night.
Abigail will now begin a period of rehabilitation and is set for an extended spell on the sidelines. She will undergo surgery in due course.
Everyone at Waltfield will be supporting Abigail closely throughout the journey ahead and we would ask that her privacy is respected at this time.
We're all right behind you, @abby19anderson ❤️
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“that’s bullshit”, you yelled to yourself still lying in bed. an acl injury is any footballer’s nightmare. how could they just lie like that. some players never come back from that. how could they?
you copied the link, and sent it to the number you saved as ‘lena’ yesterday.
you is this serious [link attached]
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FINALLY! ahhhh hope this wasn’t too long… PLEASE GUYS BARE WITH ME this is my first time writing bare with me okay!!!!
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yesimwriting · 7 months
Note
Hi! I know you're probably busy rn with collage and what not and I totally understand if you can't expand on this but either way, god I just need to rant about this thought.
So I just saw this tik tok where this girl was like "when I'm riding passenger princess and we're getting a little to close to the car in front of us" and the audio was like "the question is when are you gonna START stopping?"
And one of the comments said she wasn't a passenger princess she was a anxious passenger patroller and all that had me thinking of was Stu and reader, like I don't know about everyone else but i canon whole heartily Stu is a great driver who drives recklessly because 1)he knows what he's doing and 2) he thinks the shits funny
And I believe he'd do it especially to reader when he gets in those weird moods when he doesn't know how to feel about the reader/doesn't know how to handle it, and it kinda just serfaces in this weird aggression . Idk it could be like a fight-ish thing and she's telling him to slow down and he's being a dick about and in the end he weasels his way back into her good graces because she won't speak to him first if he's wrong and he doesn't like going to long with out talking to her
I don't know what up with my mind and how it wonders, anywho hope you have a good day/night :)
a/n for sure busy with school and actually having a social life for once and writing but always always always have time for billy and/or stu (especially since i'm kind of stuck on final girl rn😭)
YOU ARE SO RIGHT,, like i don't think he'd drive recklessly to scare reader with the intention of putting reader or himself in a dangerous situation,, but he'd for sure find it funny or see it as a way to "humble" reader a bit, like if Stu felt like the reader was acting too detached or into someone else he's suddenly speeding a little more just so that reader has to grip his arm and squeeze his hand
anyway i've been missing them and super happy to have a lower stakes way to talk about them,, also this turned out a little different and fluffier than i expected it to be lol
----
Something about the commercial feels different in the fall. Cliche radio hits are easier during the summer, sometimes even fun. But during autumn, with leaves melting off trees in hues of red and orange and the looming end of the year nostalgia, the synthetic quality is harder to look past.
That's why your hand instinctually gravitates to the radio, switching the station without a second thought.
Stu sighs, a quick, over exaggerated puff of air. "I liked that one."
You glance in his direction, glaring, "You were barely listening."
Even though you're mainly defending yourself out of habit, you know it's true. Stu's pretty open about what he likes, even when he doesn't realize it. Usually, when he likes a song he'll tap his fingers against the steering wheel. If he really likes something, he'll even get into it in a way that definitely lessens his ability to control the car.
"I was, too," he hums, half pouting.
You roll your eyes before looking back out the window. The world is moving past you in a vague blur. So quick a seed of unease plants itself in your stomach. You wouldn't exactly call it worry, you've been hanging with Stu and getting him to drive you around too long for his casual take on driving to overly phase you. With the exception of him doing something particularly risky like throwing himself into another lane after barely checking or taking too sharp of a left turn because of yellow light.
Sometimes you comment on it, equal parts teasing and annoyed. But usually, it's easier to just accept it. Stu's so comfortable with the way he drives that comments only amuse him. The one time you glared at him and asked him to slow down, he had a made a game of switching lanes at the last possible second.
"You liked that Spice Girls song more."
Stu openly snaps his head away from the road to glare at you. "Did not, you're the one that likes that saturated pop stuff."
"I said I liked one song one time."
He sighs, finally turning back to face the windshield. "Sure..." He tugs on the last syllable, dragging it out to make his disbelief clear. "You wanna stop for ice cream?"
It's not exactly late, but later than you planned on staying out. Time seems to slip away too quickly when you and your usual group are together and this afternoon's movie that ended in a hangout at the mall had eaten even more time than expected. There was something extra entertaining about wandering between stores and only occasionally actually looking at clothes.
You do have homework and it is Sunday and you told your mom you'd be back around 6:00 probably and it's now almost 7:00. But ice cream does sound nice and there will only be so many evenings in your life that feel this warm and lighthearted.
"I have some homework," you mumble in one final attempt to convince yourself, "But, yeah, I could go for ice cream."
Stu nods, tapping his pointer finger against the wheel. "We'll be fast."
The yellow light doesn't affect his speed as he turns left. Your fingers press into the side of your seat. Fast. No kidding.
"You okay there, babe?" Okay, there's no way your expression was bad enough to warrant a question (especially when he should be looking at the road). He has to be baiting you. "You're looking a little green."
You force your hand to relax, "Mhm." And it is fine. At the very least, fine enough because Stu always drives like this. "Used to you driving like you're on the run."
"You're just sensitive."
The comment is more dismissive than teasing and for whatever reason, you like it less than when he makes fun of you. At least his bullying is coated in a distinct type of affection that only Stu can get away with.
You briefly consider starting one of your 'am not, are too' fights. You're definitely not above it, especially when you two are alone and no one's around to call you out for being overly childish. But if he's going to be moody over the smallest comment...
He switches lanes--without using his blinker--with a sharp turn of the wheel. "If it's that bad, you could get rides from someone else."
The comment is hard and too casual to be a threat, but still mean. It makes your stomach drop more than the way Stu maneuvers the car. You didn't say he was that bad of a driver and you definitely didn't say anything about not going out with him anymore.
There are a lot of good things about getting Stu to drive you around. You like being in his space and the music that's more often than not just a little too loud and the passenger seat that feels more like your seat. You also like the unplanned for car moments, the accidental gossip sessions in driveways and parking lots. It's part of the reason you're glad you don't have a license yet...it's an excuse to just be around him.
"I didn't--"
"Bet Randy would put up with your backseat driving." The car speeds up slightly. "He'd slow down if you gave him that look."
You frown, ruining any chance you have at arguing that that you don't have a face. You don't get what his issue is, especially with bringing up Randy. He's been making on and off comments since the movie you all watched ended.
You don't fully get it, but you guess you get Stu being a little annoyed. Randy and you had been a little obnoxious, laughing too hard at jump scares and flinching too dramatically at moments that weren't that bad. But it's not like you two were terrible. Definitely not bad enough to warrant this passive aggression.
"I don't want to drive around with Randy, I want to drive around with you." You're full on pouting and you don't even care.
Stu sighs, eyes avoiding yours in the rearview mirror. An uncomfortable warmth settles against his face. How do you always manage to do that? From anyone else, he'd hate it, but you're never trying to get anything out of it. Things like that are just offhanded comments to you. No ulterior motives. You don't even think twice about it.
"So now it's not enough enough to be driven around by anyone?"
You shrug, relaxing into your seat. "I'm spoiled."
His throat feels dry, a wave of uncomfortable fondness hitting him with no warning. He knows there's some joke he should make about how you're shameless about it, too. But he's too caught up on the amount of feeling tightening his chest.
He turns into parking lot of your usual drive-in ice cream spot.
"You're enabled."
You turn your head, smiling, "And you're the enabler."
Stu grins, moving a hand to squeeze your shoulder. "I'll enable you any time, babe."
You roll your eyes, but don't make any move to shake him off. "Enable me a--"
"Mint chocolate chip in a waffle--not sugar--cone." He recites your usual order without a second thought.
You nod once in approval. "This is why you're my favorite."
"I'm telling Billy you said that."
Scratching the back of your arm, you glare. Stu's always trying to start a fight with that. "Do not start."
He grins teasingly, "Start what?"
You glare, hoping that the look is threatening enough to make him promise to leave your comment behind. You've known Stu long enough to know that he'd happily take a you're my favorite and save it until he could use it as some sort of ammunition, exaggerating it to make sure it really hits. All that does is make him smile more. Before you can say anything else about it, Stu rolls down the window and orders.
When you get to the window, you try to pay for your own, but that ends as it usually does. He never lets you pay for anything, and when you threaten to leave cash in his car, he threatens to buy you even more things. Try it and on Monday I'm picking you up with coffee and a muffin and that new CD you were talking about. ...A lot of the times, the suggestion makes you want to stop for coffee and muffins before school anyway, so you end up getting it with him anyway.
You give in early this time, thanking him for the ice cream as he finds an empty spot to park in. You smile to yourself. Parked car time with Stu is something you enjoy a lot more than you'd ever admit. The two of you have a silent understanding that in these moments you can say things you wouldn't usually be able to say out loud. Nothing terribly cruel, just a little snarky. The kind of comments that'd get you in trouble in front of the wrong people.
Usually, you have to take the lead at first because Stu likes to act like he's too good for gossip, but once he gets started, he's worse than you.
You're still debating which of the two major topics--rumors you've heard about Susan Welch being pregnant and the weird way Madison Meyer has been acting--to bring up first when Stu breaks the silence. "You uh--" Stu cuts himself off. "You know I wouldn't--I wouldn't do anything that'd hurt you like that."
Weirdly deep comment to hear while you're holding an ice cream cone. "...Are you trying to convince me you didn't poison my ice cream?" That strange seriousness of his doesn't go away. You frown. "Yeah, come on, of course I know that."
He nods, "Yeah, just--" Stu won't look at you. "I wouldn't, and just--the car thing--"
"Stu." You've made those kinds of comments before, and it's never made him react like this. "I know that." You nudge his forearm gently. "I didn't mean it like."" He doesn't cheer up. "Seriously, if I thought you were trying to reverse-vehicular-manslaughter me, I wouldn't get in the car."
At that, he lets out a breath that's definitely trying not to be a laugh. "Would that be reverse-vehicular-manslaughter?"
"I don't know," you hum casually, pausing to eat some of your ice cream, "You're the one trying to do it." Stu glares; you grin. "Kidding." You bite off the top edge of your cone. "You know I love driving around with you--we listen to music, we talk, we gossip--"
"I don't gossip, you gossip and I let you."
You shake your head, not bringing up the fact that he always has more stuff worth saying than you do and he's snarkier than anyone would ever guess. "Then I guess I won't tell you what's up with Susan Welch."
To be fully honest, Stu couldn't care less about Susan Welch, but he likes the way you react to these sort of things. Your reactions to his side comments might be his favorite part of these moments. "She's...in our english class right?"
"Mhm," you hum, trying to downplay your excitement, "Remember how she had to leave class early the other day--like, practically ran out of the room to throw up?" You don't wait for him to respond, "That was on square pizza day--which is the day that's least likely to make someone throw up." You pause for the sake of your ice cream. "And Lucy Thompson swears Susan randomly stopped drinking, which if you've met her, makes no sense. So, Lucy thinks Susan might be..." You trail off before vaguely gesture to your stomach.
Stu's eyes narrow as he pretends to really think about what you've just said. "I don't know if that's enough to mean she's knocked up."
You shake your head once, "Lucy also said she's never in cheer practice anymore, and she started wearing baggy clothes." You sit up a little straighter, "And Missy Danes swears her older sister's friend saw Susan buying a pregnancy test in a grocery store two towns over. I know it's not proof, but it's definitely worth thinking about."
He widens his eyes, more for your sake than anything else, "Definitely." He pushes his spoon into his melting ice cream. "If she is pregnant, she's totally screwed because Ben Johnson was just bragging about hooking up with her."
Your mouth falls open in pretend shock, "No way." You lean against the center console. "You got oreo again, right?"
Stu knows exactly what that question means, "Want some?"
Your eyebrows draw together as you shake your head. "No, I'm--"
"We could trade for a little."
Another one of your traditions, each person's ice cream slowly becoming everyone's. "Another reason why you're my favorite."
"Oh, now you're begging me to tell Billy."
You dip the spoon into ice cream, digging for a particularly large oreo crumb. "I will blame it on the ice cream."
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cornerstoreclown · 1 year
Text
Sweet Dreams
Summary: This is a short one-shot (1924 words) where the reader (Gender Neutral) is in an established relationship with Art and they’re laying in bed thinking about him. As they try to sleep, they get an unexpected visitor. 
Warnings/Contents: Um. Fluff? Domesticity? That’s more on the contents side of things. There’s nothing really worth mentioning being a warning, I think. 
Author’s notes:  I feel like this isn’t my best work, but in the advice artists give one another, I’ll post it anyway. I’m very, very, tired, but I wanted to spit out content before next week. I got some great news--I’m moving up the career ladder (new job in my career path that’s basically a huge promotion) on top of me going back to school next week for certifications. 
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Last you checked the time, it read 2:00 AM. 
You have work in the morning. Early in the morning. 
Dread fills you as you already know that you’re going to feel like dogshit. It’s like the terrible beginning to your day that technically started at 12am. 
Sleep just isn’t coming to you tonight. She’s been elusive. She’s been tricky. Avoiding you on purpose, you dare think. She seems to come to everyone else so easily, but not you. Never you, it feels like. Some nights she gives you reprieve, but this wasn’t one of those nights. Maybe it’s all those thoughts swirling around in your head–you noticed it happens a lot more around October that you’re tossing and turning until you hurt, which makes it even more uncomfortable to try and sleep. You’re on your stomach, staring off in the darkness at nothing in particular, stuck in a momentary trance. 
It was hard to sleep knowing that he’s around. October is his month, after all. And it’s getting close to the 31st of the month. It was hard to not think about him. He’s all you could think about during this time of the year. It’s so stupid how he’s consumed your life, how he’s become so entangled in your life, and how you just let him. He’s near impossible to escape in the fall. You see warnings posted for him, you see him on news broadcasts, you listen to the radio warnings. Sometimes you’d think that you’d see him in the corner of your eye on the streets at night when you were walking alone.
You miss him.
You’re tempted to reach for your phone nearby on your nightstand, maybe scroll through social media a bit, see if there’s any new chatter about the Miles County Clown. But you dread the thought of seeing what time it is and seeing how long you’ve been laying around in a sleepless fit. A few minutes of debating, and you finally reach for the phone and click the button on the side where it lights up and reveals the time to you in white font.
3:04 AM. 
You feel yourself gain an extra level of fatigue reading that and opt to click on the side of the phone to turn the light off. Doing any reading about him will just make you all the more anxious. Taking a deep sigh, you roll on your back, put one of your pillows over the top half of your face and again, inhale deeply, trying to not think about the fact that you have to be up in a few hours, but it only seems to impede any progress you have hope in making. 
At least your bed smells nice. Smells fresh. You cleaned the sheets and pillows yesterday on your day off. You focus on the scent, and it fills you with comfort. You feel yourself start to relax. 
Some time between now and whenever but obviously before the time the alarms you set on your phone went off, you’re at the threshold–the land between dreams and reality, and you hear it. 
A set of rhythmic knocks at your front door, before the sound of the door handle being jiggled. 
You recognize those knocks. It’s why you’re not getting out of bed. You instead just opt to go a little further under the covers, and when you hear the door swing open and close, you cough purposefully. Your way of letting your location known. 
You register the THUNK of what you assume is a bag hitting the floor, and the sounds of various heavy items inside of it clattering along with it. You then hear footsteps make their way in your direction, and you’re relaxed. You recognize the weight of those steps and the pace. Then, you hear your own bedroom door open, and your eyes sharply turn towards the creaking door. It’s dark, but there’s just enough light emitted by the moon tonight that’s shining through the blinds on your windows that you recognize who is staring back at you. A lithe man, with a distinct nose and sharp chin, with a wicked smile, though this time, the wickedness looks more on the muted side, to what you can interpret as contentment. 
“Hey, Art.” 
You gave Art a spare key to your apartment last week. You don’t know if that was a good idea or not, but you did it anyway. Better than him trying to bust his way in, because you know he’s capable of doing such things. He has an air of the supernatural to him, though you don’t know how far his limits go, and if he’s hiding anything from you that you haven’t seen from him already. He’s cheeky like that. 
As he comes closer and steps further into the moonlight shining into your bedroom, you see it, but you only see it because it’s on the white parts of his costume. Dried blood. You know that if it was wet, you’d be able to smell it. Fresh blood often reminds you of rust, and you’ve become quite accustomed to the scent of it thanks to Art and by no choice of your own. 
He makes his steps closer towards the bed, and you feel yourself stir as you realize that, even though his clothes look dry, that doesn’t mean that your freshly cleaned bed wouldn’t be desecrated. He’s still dirty, dry or not. 
You can’t make out what he’s doing as he’s standing right at the end of your bed and leaning forward with one hand on the mattress for support, but you hear the familiar clunk of his clown shoes and you realize that he’s taking them off before preparing to get in.
“Oh, Art, no–” You start to prop yourself up on your elbows, fatigue still heavy in your voice, but it’s too late. He’s already dived under the duvet, and you’re just too exhausted to fight it. 
Seconds later, right at your side, Art pops out from under the covers, darkened eyes meeting your tired ones. Even though you’re not happy that he’s ruining your bed, you do find yourself trying to hold back a smile. His hat’s slanted slightly differently from the blanket pulling at it, and you extend your hand out from under your blanket and fix it until it’s at its proper angle on his head again. 
You sigh at him, your smile faint. You feel your head pounding. Exhaustion is overtaking you, and the thought that you’re going to have to clean your bed again later puts weight on your shoulders that you wish you didn’t have right now. You muse that maybe the murder clown will kill you in your sleep tonight, and for a flicker of a second, your sardonic sense of humor finds that great, actually. What a relief, to not exist anymore. He’d be doing you a favor. Humans weren’t meant for the intense level of grind that this society puts upon them, and the stress kills. 
“Staying the night, are we?” You ask him. You can still see him through the faint light in your room. 
He watches you, fluffing the set of pillows next to your own before laying his head down on them. Judging by the way that he’s settling down, you take that as his way of saying ‘yes’. 
“Okay, fine. But tomorrow, you’re helping me clean the sheets.” 
He rolls his eyes and scoffs quietly, looking as if you asked a major chore of him. ‘Ugh, fine,’ is what you read from his bodily response. You know he’ll help though. He’s surprisingly helpful around the place with cleaning. That’s why you don’t take offense to him acting the way he is right now. You purse your lips, swallowing any tired, delirious type of laugh you felt bubbling at the back of your throat. 
You lower your body back down into the mattress, putting your head on your pillows. You turn your head so that your face is inches from his. It was weird, this level of domesticity between you two. He’s a monster, but not to you. Not ever to you. You wonder if he has the same needs that humans do, if he needs love too. Love was on the hierarchy of needs for humans, as was a sense of belonging. Is it stupid to think that? He’s not human. He’s not like you.
Yet, absentmindedly, you reach out for his hand under the shared covers between the both of you, and when you grasp a hold of it, you interlace your fingers with his, and he lets you. 
Art’s hands are rough and calloused, but that’s what happens when you work with your hands as much as he does. The tips of his fingers are a little cold, but the rest of him is surprisingly warm. His body temperature was always a little higher than the average person’s body temperature. Simply another reminder that he’s not human. 
You feel the way that he lightly squeezes your hand. Hands capable of being so rough and tearing open ribcages. 
“I have work in a few hours.” 
Art makes a face of disgust. He looks appalled. 
You finally laugh, and he laughs silently with you, eyes shut tight as he does so, wrinkles showing on his face as his teeth show. Those jaws of his are weapons just as much as his hands.  
“Been a hard night.” You tell him. And it has. Being awake in the middle of the night with your thoughts is tortuous. Maybe more tortuous than anything Art could do to you, you think. You’ve been trying to be less of your own worst enemy, but it’s been a constant uphill battle. 
Art’s other bloodied hand extends out and reaches for the side of your face. His hands are stained with someone else, and yet in the end, he comes here to you. There’s no changing him. You watch him through half lidded eyes, focusing on the way that his thumb strokes your cheek. He’s so tender, yet you know that he’s so cruel. You don’t know what he sees in you, but you pray it never ends. You pray that when you drift off into sleep tonight, if that’s even possible, that he’s there, and that he lets you wake up and this isn’t your last night on this planet that floats aimlessly through the infinite sea of stars. 
You’re so frustrated by the lack of sleep you feel like you almost want to cry, but you don’t. Instead, you scoot closer under the covers, right next to the Miles County Clown, resting your head under his chin. You both adjust accordingly so that you’re pressed up against him, and he’s got his arm around you now. Your hands are pressed up against your own chest. You’ll be irritated about the fact that he came to you after killing someone later. For now, you seek comfort. 
You seek sleep. 
And in his arms, he rubs your back gently, and you can’t see his face, but you’re sure he’s rather indifferent in his expression. 
You feel yourself begin to drift off, your muscles relax, and you lose consciousness. The last thoughts you remember having is that you hope that he’s still there in the morning. 
When the sun finally rises, you'll be delighted to find out when you open your eyes, that he was, because he wakes you up for the proper time, not your phone's alarms.
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