#i skipped all of saturday once i woke up on sunday and i was like ''yeehaw''

[rottenrosethorns]

Hi! Saw that your request is open and jump straight in to request lol.

Can you make a Leon x reader fluff, where Leon is this big tuff government agent (which he is) who is respected and look up to by people around him. But around reader he's just this big puppy who loves to cuddle and be in her arms, and he's so whiny whenever the reader needs to get up to go to the bathroom that he'll just wait for her outside the bathroom, once she gets out, he just scoops her back into his arms and off to cuddling session they go~ Can be any Leon you want!

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x gn!Reader 

Genre: Fluff 

Synopsis: Tough government agent by day, soft puppy boy by night. Leon recounts the highlights of his week spent with you. 

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: None! :)

A/N: i just love a good puppy boy yum. now, obvi RE2 takes the cake for soft boy, but in my head, i dream of old leon being the biggest baby, like he has so much trauma, let me be your therapist – hope you like this anon! <3 

__________

- masterlist - 

_________

Saturday & Sunday  –

Leon adored the weekends. He got to spend all his time with you after all. He loved leaving work as early as possible to pick you up from your work, taking you out for a nice dinner, and maybe watching a movie or TV show afterwards. He loved staying up as late as possible, hoping that the sun never rose so that he could relish being in your comfort under the heaps of blankets because you always complained about being cold. Eventually, the stress of work and lack of sleep would forcibly pull him into slumber as he snuggled closer into your body. When he woke up to the sounds of the birds chirping and the morning sun rays peeking through the crevices of the curtains, Leon sinked into the mattress, holding you as close as possible. You were a heavy sleeper, so he often took advantage of that to kiss your temple and get up to make you breakfast. 

Leon was such a giver, loving that he could be a caretaker for you. While he was gone at work, you were always the one to take care of things at home and make sure he had a clean space to relax and recharge. So, he’d always repay you for being the one to service you on the weekends. He knew your favorites, likes, and dislikes. And, even if he wasn’t the perfect cook, he still knew how to make up for it with weekly flowers delivered to the house. After breakfast, he’d be with you wherever you stepped. 

You like reading in the den? He’d sit next to you while he answers emails and finishes reports, hating that your eyes were following words and not on him. 

You like gardening outside? He’d start working out outside with his shirt off, definitely making sure to distract you and hating that you smiled more at the flowers than at him. 

You like going out to brunch with your friends? He’d drive you to and from the restaurant, pretending to leave after kissing you goodbye and wishing you to have fun before sneaking back to sit at a reserved table. 

He couldn't spend a second without you. So, that’s why he always hated the work week, because for forty hours, he had to resist quitting his career to be in your arms. And unfortunately, tomorrow was Monday.

…..

Monday – 

Leon already started off the week to a bad start. Somehow, he’d forgotten to take the lunch you always packed him to work and he didn’t have enough time to drive back and grab it. It wasn’t that he minded skipping lunch – he missed many meals from harsh mission conditions already – or was incapable of buying his own lunch from a nearby food chain, it’s just that he was upset that he would be missing out on your little sticky notes you accompanied with each lunch. From when you started dating, you made it a habit to sneak in notes of affection and motivation to cheer him up throughout the day. He even made an effort to save all your sticky notes in the corner of his desk drawer with his favorite ones displayed on the edge of his monitor or overlapping on pictures frames of you propped up on the corner of his desk. 

“Mr. Kennedy?” 

“What do you want?” Leon all but glared at the assistant, standing near the door. She’d been a new addition to the team, meaning she was trying her chance to catch his eye. Arguably, Leon enjoyed the attention during his rookie days, using his looks for his career’s advantage; however, nowadays with you in his life, Leon treated every woman with a cold shoulder and a sneer. Unfortunately, some women were into cold and sneering men. 

The assistant fluttered her eyes, pushing her chest out as if she had a spinal injury, “There’s some here to see you.” 

Thinking that she was talking about herself, Leon grit his teeth in annoyance, “Get the fuck out of my office.”

“Leon!” You unexpectedly appeared through the door of his office with a disappointed frown, “That was so rude, apologize to her now.” 

Leon’s jaw slacked in surprise, not expecting you to show up at his workplace. He stumbled out of his chair, quickly making it over towards you to give you a kiss only to meet the side of your face instead of your lips. Leon pouted from you avoiding his kiss. You gave him a glare, eyes flickering towards the assistant. Internally groaning, Leon knew he didn’t have a choice as you were the most stubborn person he’s met. But he was a pleaser – he was your pleaser – so he’d do anything you ask him to. 

Turning towards the assistant, Leon begrudgingly muttered an apology, “I shouldn’t have sworn at you. That’s my fault.”

Although he didn’t mean it, Leon looked at the assistant with harsh eyes. From his height, you couldn’t see his disingenuous expression and gullibly believed in his fake act of remorse. His glare hardened, a warning for the assistant to leave before he kicked her out physically. Leon would never put his hands on a woman, but if they were threatening his lover, then all those morals went out the window. Getting the hint, the assistant finally made the move to leave, but not fast enough for Leon to grab you in his arms and essentially make out with you in front of her. 

You pulled back from the kiss with a blush, “Leon!”

Leon smirked, loving to see the flush on your face and being the reason for it, “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” You rolled your eyes at Leon’s dramatics. 

“So?” Leon snuggled into you closer, sniffing you as if your scent was home to him, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

Leon heard some rustling and looked to see his forgotten lunch bag in your hand, “Hungry?”

Leon nodded like a puppy with a wide smile on his face before guiding you to sit on his office chair while he sat on his desk. He happily waited as you unpacked everything on his desk and advised him which foods to start with. And, although he didn’t receive a note that day, your presence made up for it. 

…..

Tuesday – 

“Conference is ready for Eagle, I repeat, Conference is ready for Eagle.”  

Leon raised his cuff towards his mouth, “Copy that.” 

Leon buttoned his suit jacket, securing his pistol, and gestured one arm towards the Oval Office’s door, “Mr. President, we’re ready for you.” 

Leon received a curt nod before leading him out the Oval Office and towards the press room. Like routine clockwork, his eyes were constantly scanning for danger. Even though they were only moving from one end of the White House towards the other, Leon was never too careful. Once at the doors of the press room, Leon held the door with one hand while the other went back up near his mouth, “Eagle’s entering the press room.” 

When he received the green light, Leon pushed open the door and followed the President towards the stage. Again, he scanned the room, looking for any suspicious activity or possible threats. Just as he made his way towards the edge of the stage where he was usually stationed during these boring politically vague press conferences, his eyes happened to catch a familiar figure, causing him to stumble over his feet and loudly crash into the American flag flagpole. The noise caused each reporter to inspect the situation as they watched Leon fumble. With quick reflexes, Leon caught the pole before it fell over and placed it back upright before awkwardly shuffling towards his post. Normally, Leon wouldn’t have made such a mistake, but the sight of you sitting with the audience of reporters caught him off guard. How could he forget that you worked in a very reputable news station? 

Leon avoided everyone’s lingering stares, pretending that what just happened didn’t happen. Well, everyone’s but yours. Once he met your twinkling eyes, your face broke out into the most adorable smile as you tried to hide it behind your notepad and suppress your giggles. Leon let out a barely audible chuckle as his face flushed. You were the only one that could have him feeling embarrassed. But technically, this was your fault, because you looked too good for him not to stare at you the whole time. If any of his colleagues was watching his view, they’d definitely think you were some sort of threat waiting to take their chance. 

Normally, Leon couldn’t wait for these conferences to be over. But now, he found this one particularly excruciating. The whole time he kept wondering how the hell he was supposed to control himself when you were in work mode. Just the way you asked the most intelligent questions, being so focused when writing your notes, and the way you brushed your hair out of your face whenever it fell into your vision sent him into a state of blissful insanity. The things he’d do to just leave his post and jump into your arms was unthinkable. But he had a job to do, and he was the best at it. Plus, he wanted to show off how cool and handsome he was while on the job. 

“Thank you. We’ll be taking no more questions at this moment.”

Leon snapped out of his daze, moving to escort the president off the stage. Turning towards a secret service member, Leon gave the orders to guide the president back to his next destination before breaking away and practically skipping towards you. 

“Nice fall there, Romeo,” You teased, can’t help but giggled as you recanted the fresh memory. 

Leon scratched his head with a crooked smile, “I saw the most beautiful person in my life.”

You shook your head giggling before giving him a quick kiss, not wanting to get him in trouble at work. Leon excitedly accepted your kiss, smile widening even more as his lips tingled. 

“Kennedy! Debrief!” 

Leon looked over to see his colleague waving him down from across the room. Instantaneously, his stoic expression returned as he gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. Once out of sight, his features soften, looking at you apologetically, “Gotta go, I’ll see you later. Love you!” 

It took him almost a minute to actually say goodbye and leave you, but the skip in his step made up for his tardiness. 

…..

Wednesday – 

Leon was starting to get tired of these meetings. His job was to fight bioweapons, did he really need to sit in the geeky science side of things? If there’s a monster, kill it. Easy. 

He sighed, as his eyes bore into the papers, yet not reading any of the content written on them. Every word said by the scientists and researchers went in one ear and right out the other as they continued through the robust slideshow. Didn’t he skip college for this exact reason? 

Just as they were about to continue towards the next slide, Leon’s phone rang, interrupting everyone from their concentration. Usually, Leon would apologize for forgetting to silence his phone, but seeing your caller ID flash on his screen had him running outside the meeting room as the group decided to call for an intermission. 

Picking up, Leon piped up, “Hello?”

“Is it a bad time?” 

Leon looked back to the meeting room without a care, “Nope, wasn’t doing anything important, what’s up?” 

“I was just going to ask what you wanted to eat for dinner for Friday’s movie night. Do you want to order in or make something ourselves?” 

“What’s wrong with both?” Leon chuckled. 

“That’s too much!” You laughed.

Leon smiled, loving the sound of your laughter and being the one that made you laugh, “Okay, okay, let’s get something easy to make. We’ve got some other shopping to do too.” 

“Perfect, we’ll go tomorrow, okay? Come home early.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, “I’ll be there.”

“Okay, I gotta go now. I love you!”

“I love you too,” Leon kissed into the phone before hanging up. 

He was about to turn around and head back to the presentation room before being face to face with the Redfield siblings. Chris raised his brow while Claire did her best to hide her snickering behind her hand. Leon’s stoic persona returned, pushing past them as he muttered, “Shut up.” 

…..

Thursday – 

“Salsa”

“Check.”

“Chips?”

“Check.”

“Anything else?”

“Sour cream,” Leon read the grocery list, “That should be it.” 

You nodded, heading towards the condiments aisle, “Right, can’t forget the sour cream.”

Finding the location, you were about to ask Leon for help as the bottle you wanted was placed on the top shelf, but Leon was quick to understand and had already reached up and placed the bottle in the cart. You smiled and attempted to pat his head, “Thank you! Ready to go?”

If Leon had a tail, it would be wagging faster than a boat propeller. Leon perked up at the praise, basking in the good words you had for him. He could never get over how well you treated him and he lived to impress you everytime. Just as he went to answer, a certain sibling duo appeared again. Was this his bad luck? 

Once you saw Claire, you immediately rushed over and enveloped her into a hug and gushed about where she’s been and what she’s been up to. Knowing you well, Leon knew it’d a while before you realized you’d been talking for a bit too long. Chris seemed to know this too as he went over to Leon and struck up some small talk. He looked in your cart, analyzing the collected ingredients, “Taco night?”

Leon let out a gruff noise with a scowl on his face to indicate that Chris guessed correctly. Leon crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for you to finish so that you both could go home and cuddle on the couch together. 

Chris scoffed, “You don’t have to hide that you love them, you know? It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’re head over heels for them already.” 

Leon pressed his lips together, “I’m not hiding anything.” 

“You’re not?” Chris pressed, “So, yesterday, on that phone call, you did send a kiss through the phone, right?” 

Leon met Chris’s eyes with a glare, not willing to admit he’d ever do such a thing. Although it was the truth and it would’ve hurt his pride to admit, Leon hated denying it in case it made you sad, so he chose to use silence as his answer. Chris found this particularly amusing as he laughed, “It’s okay to have feelings, you know? In this field of work, it’s nice to have someone – someone human – to remind us that we have lives outside of the virus.” 

Leon’s tough demeanor slightly cracked as he watched you laugh and joke with Claire. He hated to admit, but Chris was right. You were his everything. You made all the bad memories and nightmares go away. You reminded him that he’s just a guy trying to live a normal life. And, he’d do anything to keep you in his arms forever. 

Without thinking, Leon admitted, “I love them.” 

Chris smiled in triumph, “You look good together.”

Just as the men finished their chat, you looked over at Leon to which Leon softened his expression to meet your gaze, “Hey, you won’t mind if Chris and Claire come over tonight, right? They can even stay over if they want! Come on, let’s go!”

Even if he wanted to, Leon couldn’t bring himself to argue with you. Sure, he wanted you for himself tonight, but he couldn’t ever say no to you. Thus, you collectively left the grocery store with Leon grumbling in tow as Chris snickered at his demise. 

…..

Friday – 

Fridays, oh Fridays. They were Leon’s favorite day of the week. It was the majority of the population's favorite day of the week actually. But, Leon’s reason wasn’t mundane like getting off work early to celebrate the weekend or other adjacent reasons. His reason was because he was to come home to you and destress the woes of the week in your arms. He didn’t care what movie or TV show was playing, he just wanted to bury himself deep into your neck and press loving kisses as if he was thanking you for your existence. Even though your focus was solely on the drama of the cinema, Leon was just happy to be included. That’s all that he needed. You were all that he needed. 

“I gotta use the bathroom,” You started to untangle yourself from Leon’s hold, “You can keep watching though.”

Leon mewled in protest. He didn’t even know what was playing anyways, so it didn’t matter to him. The hold on you shifted, so that Leon was encircling your waist and holding your body flush against his. He buried his face into your chest and his muffled, “Don’t go.”

You patted his head, brushing your fingers through his hair as you cooed at him, “I’ll be back in a bit, okay? Keep the blankets warm for me?”

Leon pouted, squeezing you one more time before reluctantly letting you go – extra emphasis on the reluctant part. Leon was basically an octopus suction cupping you on him as you struggled to get out of his hold. Once you were finally freed, you huffed before sending him off with a quick kiss and running towards the bathroom. Leon laid on the couch, lifeless. He didn’t know what to do without you. He tried to tune into the TV, but his lack of attention to plot confused him on the premise of whatever was playing. He laid back with his hand on his stomach, fiddling his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. He shifted his body left and right, suddenly feeling like the couch was made of concrete and blankets knitted with the itchiest yarn known to man. 

Annoyed, Leon decided to abandon the couch and shuffle his way towards the bathroom and paced outside as he waited for you to finish. Thankfully, you weren’t that long before you unlocked the door and stepped out. You hadn’t gotten far before Leon scooped you up in his arms and swiftly took you back to the couch and buried your bodies in the mountain of pillows and blankets. Only now did he feel comfortable, like sleeping on clouds. 

You giggled, taking his face in your hand and holding him to look at you. Leon’s eyes widened, waiting for you to say what you wanted to. You booped his nose, “Were you waiting outside for me?”

Leon pursed his lips like he was asking for a kiss. You shook your head, not willing to kiss him until he gave you an answer. Once realizing this, Leon’s lips turned into a pout, “I missed you.”

You giggled, pressing a rewarding kiss to which he passionately accepted, “You’re so cute.”

Leon snuggled back into you as your fingers entangled themselves back into his hair, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy oneshot #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fic #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff

[songbirdstew]

Well, Tom Petty, it turns out I DO have to live like a refugee.

We are back in evacuation mode. I guess a three and a half year break isn't bad.

Saturday, we woke up to half an inch of ice coating every possible surface.

Our power went out at 3 that afternoon.

Sunday, we woke up to an inch thick layer of ice coating every possible surface.

None of this is snow. It is all ice.

The outside temperature ranged from 23 to 27*F. By Tuesday, the inside temperature had dropped to 39, our power bank was drained, and our devices were near dead. Our immediate plan was to head to the Parks center, or if that didn't work, to City Hall (where our library is), both usually sound options for getting a cup of coffee and charging up. We would make contact with the outside world, check the weather forecast, make a plan, then head back home to grab essentials. But C's sister happened to text me right as I was gathering everything up, so we headed for her place instead.

The path from here to there was NOT GREAT BOB.

The roads were all coated in ice, still. Even in the middle of town, on the main thoroughfares, on the Priority 1 deicing routes. All along the route, there are power lines down, power poles down and broken, transformers exploded, trees down, trees snapped in half, trees sliced down the middle vertically. There are power lines dangling over the road, lying in the road, draped across people's driveways and over their front doors so they can't get out. Half the traffic lights were out.

So as soon as we got here, we decided to stay put for the night. The cats were loaded on food and water, and the house was safe and sound.

We quickly learned the entire East half of our town (where the Parks center is) and most of mid town and downtown (where the library is) were totally without power, plus the Parks center's parking lot was blocked by downed trees, so it was just as well we ended up skipping our initial idea and just came straight to Emma and Zev's.

Today, C&I went back to get things we'll need while we're here (we brought NOTHING with us yesterday). The temperature finally rose, so most of the ice had melted. Most of the traffic lights were back on.

But everything else is still the same, if not worse. Once the ice melted, everything that had been hanging by a frozen thread just crashed. Large parts of town are under orders to boil all of their water (remember, they don't have power). When we got home, we found a tree branch had completely shattered the rear window of C's car while we were gone. A huge hunk of ice fell out of the same tree and put a brand new dent in my fender while we were there. It was still only 37* at our house, even though it was up to 47 less than a mile away. The fuck?

The kitties were okay. Charlie seemed perfectly fine (like, What? You were gone?), and Glitch was well, but very, very sad. She HATES being alone (she doesn't even like being alone in a room when people are home). She HATES it when I'm not there. She could tell we were leaving again right away, and she was so unhappy. I set up her favorite blankets for her on the couch and on the bed. We gave them food and water for a few days, plus wet food with calming drops mixed in. We freshened their boxes, and we closed them in their separate spaces so that Charlie won't be bullying Glitch & stealing her food the whole time.

Curtis plans to go back out to the house on his own tomorrow, largely to further inspect his car and take more pictures for the insurance company. School is cancelled for the week. So far I have not had to go in to work, but tomorrow and Friday remain to be seen. My boss will let me know sometime in the morning whether she expects me to work or not, and then Curtis and I will decide if we think it's safe enough to get me there and back. We haven't been to that part of town, so we don't know how bad the tree damage etc might be. If it's anything like the rest of the city, I know I won't feel comfortable navigating that in the dark.

For now, we are good, and warm, and safe, with people we love. Emma and Zev are such good influences on Royal, that Royal actually ate something green today (enchilada sauce).

Please snuggle your kitties for me and kiss their stupid little heads, okay?

#it's just a lot #there's a lot going on with the infrastructure and the utilities #it's all a huge huge mess and it's going to take DAYS to get power back on #but Emma is very calming and Zev is infectiously boisterous #and he immediately made us all coffee and hot chocolate and tea the instant we walked in the door

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my friend i felt upset when it seemed like she was blowing me off?

i (18nb) have this friend M (16 week away from 17nb) friend. we became quick friends because we both moved from a journalism class to yearbook and recognized each other. we’ve been friends for over a year at this point. 

i’m in college now and they’re still in high school, and i still hang out with them. they’re one of two people who i keep in contact with from high school. We sometimes go thrifting and such together, and I do my best to not be a like. “super senior” or be creepy, but they also have some friends in freshman and sophmore year of college so it’s chill?

What happened was I wanted to go to a record shop M was very versed in going to. I asked if they could hang out on veterans day friday, because i didn’t have class or work, and school wasn’t in session that day. M said yes, but they had a “ton of homework” from classes they’d been skipping. I was okay with that, and figured since we were planning a week ahead of time they’d be okay.

Thursday rolls around, and we both stayed up till 4 am trying to get them through their homework. I was giving them college essay advice, and they got through a good chunk of the homework, but something bothered me about the fact they skipped more school that week and hadn’t done… anything. M told me that we probably couldn’t go to the record store friday, but we could meet up at a tea shop to study together because they had a birthday dinner to attend later that day.  (not Ms birthday someone else’s)

On Friday I waited for a while on them to answer me on the study session. I texted them through the day asking about it, and M kept telling me that they were eating food or doing chores. at one point i said “hey M, it’s four, don’t you have that dinner at six?” and they told me at 5:30 “oopsies i took a nap lol” we agreed to not meet up friday now, and it kind of pissed me off because it seemed like they didn’t do ANY of the homework they said they would. M went out with their friend for the friend bday dinner, and they reported to me later they couldn’t spend any money on our trip because M spent “so much money on the dinner and toys from CVS”. 

saturday we both worked, and they told me that we could absolutely meet up sunday. I finished a huge essay and several projects that day, and assumed M was also working on said homework. 

I woke up at 10 witch was the planned time to chat about going to the record store and the thrift, and got no response from M. this kinda pissed me off more because it felt now they were completely blowing me off. They then woke up at 2:45, texting me that we coundt go to the record shop because they still had homework to do because they didn’t do anything yesterday, but we could still go to a different event that was happening that day if they got all their homework done. 

Here’s where i may be the asshole. I told them that at that point i don’t think it would even be fun to go with them to the event anymore because it felt like they had been blowing me off the entire weekend. I said how they had plenty of chances over the week and weekend to finish up what they had to do, and told them it made me upset that they didn’t do anything that saturday, and that they were just messing around with my time and energy. They told me that i was a freak for “stalking their weekend” (they had Told Me all the info i had) and controlling when they were suppose to do homework. i told M i had a life too, and really wanted to go to these events with them. we got into a big argument over this where i tried to diffuse it and say i didn’t want us to break apart because of this. i told them i was sorry for micromanaging them, but that it really hurt that they completely blew me off. 

Ever since this, M hasn’t responded. I sent them a tik tok thinking once we’d cooled down a couple days later it maybe would be okay but they left me on seen. I have no clue what went wrong or if it’s just a teenage thing and just wanted to express that i was upset. AITA??? and should i reach out and apologize again??? or just leave it???? -💜

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[denimbex1986]

'If you’ve been a Doctor Who fan for a while then you for sure weren’t looking forward to saying goodbye to David Tennant‘s version of the character yet again. The first time was a gut punch and the end of an era with showrunner Russell T Davies departing as well. What followed has been decidedly mixed with great Doctors (Matt Smith, Peter Capaldi, and Jodie Whittaker) and uneven creative direction. It’s to the point that Davies’ return as showrunner (to the show that he rebooted 18 years ago) feels like a rescue mission designed to excite the fan base.

Bringing Tennant back for three special episodes (the last of which aired Saturday) was surely phase 1 of that plan, but it came with some risk, specifically that the audience would predictably fall in love with Tennant again and want him to stay, creating a potential barrier for the incoming Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa (Sex Education, Barbie). In the wake of Saturday’s episode, “The Giggles,” those worries have mostly disappeared thanks to a bold move that messes with over 60 years of established continuity.

Big, explodey, and emotional regenerations are out, bi-generations are in, allowing Time Lords to branch off from one another as opposed to having to essentially die so the other can live. The ultimate 2-for-1 deal. A little confused? Us too. A little miffed at the continuity shakeup? No. To hell with tradition. It’s a 60-year-old TV show. Old words are for politicians and Sunday school teachers to cling to. Everyone else should enjoy a good resorting from time to time.

But what does it all mean? The bi-generation makes a lot of things possible, from a narrative standpoint. Most obviously, there’s the possibility that Tennant’s legendary run as The Doctor may not actually be over. He’s just off in the garden having a wonderful time being happy and surrounded by his best friend Donna Noble (Catherine Tate) and her family while Gatwa’s Doctor draws all focus while skipping across time and space. But what if he needs a hand? Or what if Tennant’s Doctor takes his TARDIS out for a spin of his own, falling into familiar trouble in the occasional special episode that’s divorced from the show’s main story?

It’s not just Tennant. Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker – they could all make an appearance, theoretically, because according to Davies, the bi-generation wasn’t just about Gatwa’s 15th Doctor and Tennant’s latest iteration of the character.

From an episode commentary recorded by Davies and reported on by The Radio Times, Davies is saying, essentially, every single past regeneration has been retroactively made into a bi-generation:

“I think all of the Doctors came back to life with their individual TARDISes, the gift of the Toymaker, and they’re all out there travelling round in what I’m calling a Doctor verse.

“Sylvester McCoy woke up in a drawer, in a morgue, in San Francisco… and Jon Pertwee woke up on the floor of the laboratory,” he says.

This is absolutely chaotic and I love it. I’ll say this, though, while Davies opened the seal with this one and while it gave Tennant’s Doctor a wonderful ending rooted in the idea that every once in a while a warrior gets to claim a reward and some peace, I do wonder if he will someday be called back into battle to help close that seal and forfeit that reward. That would be very Doctor Who. It would also acknowledge the blessing and curse of the Time Lord’s lifespan. It’s something that was conveniently explained away the last time Tennant’s Doctor (or a version of) got such a reward with the mortal half-human/half-time lord version living in another universe with Rose Tyler. But this Doctor can’t spend the rest of his lifetime being happy in the garden with Donna. He can only do it for the rest of her lifetime, if that.

While the bi-generation and Davies’ tease hints at the possibility of bigger adventures and returning favorites, it may not qualify as the most important moment from the episode. Before we discuss that, though, can we just take a moment to talk about the energy, light, and confidence coming off of Ncuti Gatwa as The Doctor? So commanding right from the start. Remember when Tennant’s Doctor burst into existence after Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor regenerated? How he had to have a lie down in his bathrobe. Gatwa’s Doctor is ready to roll out of the box and a breath of fresh air. I can’t wait to see what he does within this wild sandbox Davies has constructed.

Alright, the most important moment of the episode was the hug between Gatwa and Tennant. After the bi-generation and the defeat of The Toymaker, Tennant’s Doctor is filled with grief over the lives lost and his role in inadvertently inspiring The Toymaker’s appearance. But Gatwa stops the spiral, grabs him, locks eyes (like Tennant did with Tate in the previous episode to reassure her), and tries to free him from all this burden. It’s a beautiful moment, but also symbolic for what may be on the horizon week to week.

I don’t want to make it like Doctor Who didn’t operate from a place of grief and worry about the impact of his actions during Davies’ run. There was a certain haunted quality to both Eccleston and Tennant’s portrayals over all the devastation and carnage they had seen, but Steven Moffat, who took the showrunner baton after Davies left, leaned into it a bit more, focusing on The Doctor’s identity and the hard choices he had to make to save existence, even while destroying his own people. It was a lot to wrestle with. A lot of angst and sadness (with some joy too), which is referred to in the specials when Donna checks in on what The Doctor has been up to for 15 years. And so it was nice that someone offered him absolution while at the same time, creating a clean slate for Davies to remake the show (again) with Gatwa’s Doctor being somewhat lighter without all that weight on him. The regenerated Doctor has always been new, but this Doctor is newer than new, it seems, and we are here for it and everything else Davies has planned with or without a few extra Time Lords from time to time.'

#Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #David Tennant #Ncuti Gatwa #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #The Giggle #Russell T. Davies #Bi-generation #Matt Smith #Peter Capaldi #Jodie Whittaker #Sex Education #Barbie #Sylvester McCoy #Jon Pertwee #Christopher Eccleston

[umichenginabroad]

Sorrento Week 8: Rome Once Again

Hey everyone! I went back to Rome again last weekend since my mom was visiting. Last time I went I didn’t get a chance to visit Vatican City (the smallest country in the world) and I also didn’t get to go inside the Colosseum which requires booking ahead of time or standing in a very long line. However, this time I booked a tour with my mom for the Colosseum and I also found a tour that took us through the Vatican Museums including the Sistine Chapel. 

To get to Rome, I first got on a train from Sorrento train station to Napoli Garibaldi station. These trains run very often so you don’t need to buy a ticket ahead of time (they will never be sold out). Once dropped off at the Garibaldi station, I just walked upstairs to Napoli Centrale (the main train station for traveling to different parts of Italy) to get on my train to Rome. The ticket from Centrale to Rome does need to be bought ahead of time as they can be sold out. The tickets aren’t too expensive usually ranging from 19-30 euros depending on what time you are traveling. 

I reached Rome around 5:30 pm and met up with my mom which was nice since I felt homesick. We decided to visit the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain since we didn’t have anything previously planned. It was definitely a lot more crowded than last time since it was July and also we didn’t go early in the morning like I had before. 

On Saturday, we woke up at 5:30 am so that we could go to Vatican City and get in line to see St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest church in the world. We had a skip-the-line tour for the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel but not St. Peter’s Basilica so we would have to wait in line to get in. These lines can get really long later in the day so my mom and I decided to go right when it opens at 7 am. We got to the basilica around 6:30 am and thankfully there was barely anyone there. Inside there was so much to see with different paintings hanging on some walls and the ceilings were also covered in art. There were also some cool sculptures and overall the basilica was huge. We also were able to buy a ticket for 8 euros to walk up to the top of the dome (entrance to the basilica was free). From the top of the dome we could see Rome in the distance with the Colosseum and Vittoriano which was amazing. After visiting the basilica, we decided to go back to Rome before our tour of the Vatican since we had a lot of time. My mom and I decided to go to the Pantheon and stood in line for a ticket. The wait wasn’t too long and the ticket to get in was only 5 euros.

Soon it was time for our tour of the Vatican Museums. I booked this tour through a third party website - GetYourGuide. I would recommend booking tours early since almost everything gets sold out in the summer. We met up with our tour group and walked to the Vatican together. We didn’t need to wait in a line but did have to go through security which didn’t take long. For the tour, we were given an audio device to hear the tour guide better. There was so much to see inside the Vatican but I don’t want to spoil everything so I’ll just say that my favorite parts were the School of Athens fresco and the ceiling in the Gallery of Maps. 

On Sunday, my mom and I had our Colosseum tour at 9:30 am (booked on Trip Advisor). This was also skip-the-line so it was fairly easy to get in and then our tour guide told us about the history of the Colosseum which was built around 70-72 AD. It was cool to learn that the inside used to be all white marble until it was all taken out to be used for other buildings in later centuries.

After the tour we also had tickets to see the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill so we headed there to see more ruins from around the 8th century BCE. I still can’t believe I was able to see something so old. After this, we walked to Vittoriano which is a monument built to honor Victor Emmanuel ll. From the top of the monument you can see a nice view of Rome and there is also a cool museum inside. My second trip to Rome was amazing and I was glad to meet my mom. I think this is probably my favorite city in Italy and highly recommend anyone to visit if you are studying abroad in Italy!

Satwika Tattari

Space Sciences and Engineering

IPE: Engineering in Sorrento

#umichenginabroad #ipesummer23 #ipesorrento #SatwikaTattari #italy

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Jade: what makes you think that dave is dead?? :o

Rose: He’s been in his room for 4 days.

Jade: yeah… and?

Rose: Without getting himself a single bottle of apple juice.

Jade: D:

Rose: Yeah.

#ndfkgajd i bet money im just on one of my fucking humongous sleeping sprees #the longest i have ever slept at a time was like 30 hours #i skipped all of saturday once i woke up on sunday and i was like ''yeehaw'' #and then my mom was like SCHOOL NIGHT GO TO BED and i felt like i was in the twilight zone #idk how there are people out there who can stay awake for like days on end #the longest ive ever gotten was 19 hours awake #thats not even a whole day #thats like. regular day hours #but sleep? watch me fucking get it #homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #submission #playgroundstroublemaker #mod dave #jade harley #rose lalonde

[itsdanii]

Hurting his s/o's feelings

genre: slight angst to fluff

terminologies used: y/n - your name; f/a - favorite anime

ft. ushijima wakatoshi

You're aware of how straightforward Ushijima can be but it can't be helped that sometimes, his words affect you more than you expect

tsukishima's part

It was Saturday night and you can't help but smile, knowing that your boyfriend will be home soon from practice. It had been a weekly routine of yours to cuddle and watch a new episode of your favorite anime every Saturday night when the episode is released to catch up with your boyfriend's busy schedule.

Lately, he had been skipping your routine, always coming home late because of practice and leaving you to watch the episode all by yourself. Despite that, you were still hopeful every single time that he'd come home early to spend quality time.

With the blankets and pillows arranged perfectly on the couch for both you and your boyfriend's comfort, you put a hand on your hip to check if everything was in place. You gave a small nod and sat on the couch, eyes staring at the door, hoping that it will soon reveal Wakatoshi.

Five minutes passed and your boyfriend was still nowhere inside your shared apartment. Furrowing your brows together and sighing in frustration and anticipation, you took your phone and sent a message to him.

Y/n: Baby, where are you? It's getting late, I miss you :((

After ten minutes of waiting, he finally replied, a frown immediately making its way to your face upon reading his message.

Babe: I'm sorry, y/n. Practice finished late today but I'm on my way home already.

Y/n: Okay, careful on your way home. I love you ❤️

You sighed and placed your phone on your lap, a slight feeling of disappointment settling inside your chest.

When the door finally opened, you instantly stood up and made your way to Wakatoshi, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck as you buried your face on his chest. "Missed you," you mumbled affectionately.

"Y/n, let go. I'll go take a shower first," Wakatoshi said before unwrapping your arms and making his way to your shared bedroom, leaving you alone once again.

You took another glance at your bedroom door when 20 minutes had gone by but your boyfriend hadn't stepped out yet. The episode you were waiting for was already released and several spoilers were now posted on the internet.

You stood up and made your way inside your room, your eyes widening to your boyfriend already asleep.

"I guess he's really tired..." you whispered, thinking that you could just watch the episode tomorrow. For now, you'll let your boyfriend rest despite the feeling of disappointment.

-

With your eyes still closed, you reached out your arm only to pat the empty space beside you. Your eyes immediately fluttered open, curious as to where Ushijima is.

You stood up and caught sight of the paper placed on top of your bedside table, Wakatoshi's neat writing present on the sheet.

Went to the gym to practice my spikes with Tendou. I'll be home late.

"Again? It's Sunday..." you muttered to yourself.

It wasn't fair that you were the only one trying to exert effort in this relationship. So, with a heavy sigh, you quickly showered and decided to visit your boyfriend's practice.

"Toshi," you called out as soon as you stepped inside.

Satori's eyes immediately wandered to your form, a goofy smile adorning his face. "Look, it's your s/o!"

You gave Satori a small smile and made your way to your boyfriend, irritation visible on his features at being interrupted mid-spike.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? I'm practicing, haven't you read the message I left at home?"

You put a hand on your hip at his tone, chin slightly lifting up to look up at him. "It's Sunday, why are you practicing?"

"It is needed to further enhance my skills," he simply answered.

"I-" You gave Tendou a side-eye, which he immediately understood. You waited for the red-hair to leave before continuing. "You were home late last night, and we were supposed to watch the new episode of f/a but you fell asleep on me. This morning, I woke up, expecting some quality time with my boyfriend, only to see an empty space beside me and a letter saying that he went to practice. Just-"

"I have to practice. You wouldn't understand because all you do is stay at home and laze around."

You froze. No words managed to slip past your lips as you stared at your boyfriend with your now glossy eyes. "You're unfair," you said shakily before walking out with tears falling on your cheeks.

-

You stared at the television as the episode ended. Your eyes were still puffy from crying awhile ago and your cheeks were still flushed. Even your nose was still a bit runny and tissues were littered beside you.

You ignored the sound of the door opening and the footsteps of your boyfriend. Instead, you stood up and made your way inside your room and covered yourself with the blanket while facing the wall.

"Y/n..." you hear the apologetic voice of Ushijima, the bed creaking as he slid his way to you.

You ignored him, eyes closed with your back on him.

"My love, I'm sorry for being insensitive awhile ago. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Ushijima said with a gentle voice, his arm circling your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The smell of his shampoo filled your nose, reminding you that he must've showered before coming home.

"I'm not even mad at you for forgetting our movie night. It's just... I feel like I'm the only one in this relationship. I love how you're passionate about volleyball but Toshi...you're so passionate that sometimes you forget that there's someone waiting for you at home. I just want to feel appreciated and loved..." you cried.

"Hey, baby, look at me." Wakatoshi spun you around and sat you up, putting you on his lap and cupping your cheeks. "Baby, look at me, please."

You opened your eyes and stared at him, surprised that his eyes were teary as well.

"I'm sorry. I won't try to make any excuses because what I did was wrong but I promise that I will try my best to put you as my priority. I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead.

You nodded silently, arms clinging around him as if you were afraid that he'll disappear if you let go. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You smiled against his neck, hand clutching the back of his shirt as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Ushijima stared at your sleeping figure, his fingers gently combing your hair as he gave another kiss on your forehead. "Sleep well, my love. I'll be here when you wake up. From now on, I'll always be."

#ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #shiratorizawa #hq fluff #hq imagines #hq angst #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! fluff #ushijima fluff #wakatoshi fluff #ushiwaka

[just-here-for-the-moment]

The Innkeeper's Daughter

Thank you sooooo much to @fandom-blackhole who let me take inspiration from This Ask for the original Anon and This follow-up Ask from me, and let me run wild with the premise of Pero Tovar falling in love with an innkeeper.

This one is for @silverwolf319 who sent me a request for "Ummmm...how about soft, sweet filthiness lol like, filthy dirty talk, but with feelings? Does that make sense?"

Saaaammmmm, I hope this delivers on that! 💜💜💜

Update: Part 2 is here!

Word count: 3200+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Pero Tovar x “You” (OC cis/het female reader, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: mature language; euphemisms; one use of “whorehouse” and “whore”; slow-burn; yearning; one incident of bar violence; Pero Tovar unleashing his desires verbally; lots of dirty talk; kissing; one breast grope; one erection; everyone’s clothes stay on

The first time you saw the grumpy Spaniard smile was a busy Saturday evening. Your father’s inn was full, the barroom filled with groups of raucous and rowdy men singing traveling songs and reminiscing loudly about battles won and women lost. The contrast between the exuberant hordes and the quiet, scowling man was evident to everyone, but they left him alone to brood.

“The Spaniard” had arrived in the early hours of Thursday morning and disappeared into his room immediately, sleeping the day away until supper. He kept to himself in the barroom, taking over a small table in the corner, keeping his back to the wall and his eyes on the other guests. He graced you with eye contact exactly once during Thursday’s supper, nodding at you to indicate his thanks for the ale before tucking his head back down to eat.

You knew from your two decades behind the bar that the quiet ones could sometimes be dangerous. But your father was much more concerned with the inn’s revenue and suppliers, and brushed off your questions with a wave.

“The Spaniard is quiet and doesn’t seem interested in starting trouble. He’s paid for his room in advance for the week. If he wants to be left alone, leave off.”

The Spaniard did not appear on Friday for the midday meal, but he did come back for late supper, repeating Thursday’s pattern exactly; a seat at the small table with his back to the wall, scanning the room from under his brow, a flash of eye contact to you as wordless thanks when you set down his plate and and the ewer of ale. The rest of the customers were settled for the moment, and something made you bolder than you would normally be, choosing to linger and try to break into the hard shell he wore like a cloak.

“Care for anything else? I have honey cakes set aside from the baker if you would like one.”

He grunted, a noise that was neither a yes nor a no. You weren’t sure if you should take offense or be happy that he made noise at all.

“What’s your name?”

He stopped chewing at that, and raised his eyes to yours, holding your gaze with his own deep brown orbs. The scar that ran over one eye was almost delicate, tracing a line from eyebrow to cheek that told a story of pain and must have resulted in him nearly losing the organ. You had seen many men disfigured and maimed by war and by accidents; but his scar was almost beautiful, highlighting his features in a way that made him more handsome, not less.

He swallowed roughly and grunted again. “Tovar.”

“Tovar… is that all?” You smiled wryly, hoping to pull more secrets out of him.

“Pero.” He grunted again, but this time it nearly resembled full speech. “Pero Tovar.”

He tucked his head back down and shoved more food into his mouth. You took that as your cue to go back to the bar. If he was staying all week you could wait until Sunday when things quieted down, spend a few days slowly probing. You got the sense he wasn’t dangerous, at least not to whoever brought him food and ale. You let yourself be distracted serving everyone else, and when you looked for him at the end of the night he was gone. You tried to ignore the little pang of disappointment that bloomed in your chest.

Saturday dawned clear and sunny, and you rose early to do the marketing for the inn and for your little household of two. Your mother had passed many years before, and your father prided himself on running an honorable establishment. You may have spent your formative years behind the bar of the inn, but nobody in the village mistook you for anything save an honest innkeeper’s daughter. The whorehouse was at the other end of town.

You finished your marketing and returned home, planning how to combine fresh eggs with leftover bread and meat for the midday meal. Most guests of the inn came for the late supper, but a few showed up for the midday meal and some companionship. You hoped Tovar would be one of them, but given that he had skipped the midday dinner on both Thursday and Friday, you didn’t dare hope too much.

To your great surprise, Tovar was already in the barroom when you arrived. He was dressed casually in tunic and pants and was standing on a table under the main beam, helping your father reattach the lantern. The chain had been broken for a few weeks, leaving this part of the room dark. Neither you nor your father had made time to obtain a ladder and fix it yet, but apparently for Tovar no ladder was needed. His tall frame was stretched up, arms raised to reach for the chain dangling from the ceiling, and his tunic lifted just enough to show a band of bare skin over his hips. The sight of him nearly made you drop your baskets.

You recovered your senses and looked away, greeting your father as naturally as you could. When you lifted your eyes to greet Tovar, you swore you saw the ghost of a smirk cross his lips. You hurried to the kitchen to prepare the midday meal.

When you dared to return to the bar, your father had gone, and Tovar was seated at his usual table. He lifted his eyes quickly to your face and you found that you could barely speak. Your words emerged in a breathy rush. “Are you hungry? Would you like to eat now?” You cursed your nerves and tried to settle them. Where were the other guests? Why was nobody else coming down to the bar?

Tovar looked at you sternly from under his brows and you suddenly felt like a child, caught for doing something naughty. But his next words made something in your middle turn over, fluttering like a moth.

“No. Sit with me a while.”

You sat. You were not accustomed to taking orders from strange men in your father’s establishment, but you rationalized it by telling yourself that attending to guests was good for the inn’s reputation, and that you would spring up and take care of any other guests as soon as they entered. You ignored the little whisper of lust that was suddenly at the base of your spine, tickling up like a trail of smoke from an extinguished candle.

“Tell me your name, woman.”

His question shocked you, until you realized that you hadn’t yet given it to him, and apparently neither had your father during their repair work. You opened your lips and spoke your own name, and under Tovar’s intense gaze it felt strange and foreign. He repeated it back to you in his sonorous tone, turning the fluttering moths in your center into lightning bolts.

“Are you enjoying your stay with us? Is there anything you need for your room?”

That half-smirk graced his lips for another moment, then passed away so quickly you were almost sure you imagined it. He shook his head, “No.”

You let the silence hang. Why had he asked you to sit with him if he wasn’t going to converse? Your stubborn streak won out over your curiosity and you decided to hold his eyes with your own and wait him out. Seconds stretched into minutes, and the air between you became heated, suffused with something like the vapors that distorted the air above a fire. Your hands grew moist, and you rubbed them across your lap, hoping the apron would absorb both the sweat and your discomfort. Tovar continued to look at you with interest, and the longer he stared the more you felt your face burn.

You broke first, bending your head and taking in a great shuddering gulp of air. Just then a footstep fell on the threshold and you leapt out of your chair and swept into the kitchen. When you calmed yourself and finally emerged, Tovar was gone. You let yourself get entwined in the gossip and the rhythm of your normal serving of guests, listening to the friendly chatter. By the time the bar was clear again, you decided to take yourself up to your room and rest, to conserve your energy for the busy Saturday night crowd. Saturday late supper consisted of cold leftovers and mug after mug of ale. The crowds were usually boisterous but good-natured, and you were looking forward to seeing Tovar again.

When you woke from your nap the sun was kissing the horizon, and you freshened your dress, changing into one of your nicer ones and a fresh bodice, tying a clean apron around your middle. You scrubbed your face with a wet cloth and rearranged your hair. You felt like a maiden heading to the altar, but you weren’t sure why. Nothing that Tovar had said or done so far gave you any indication that he favored you that way. There really was no need to change into clean clothing or present yourself in any special garments. Still… there was that hope, that whisper of lust that had sprung up under his gaze this afternoon. Maybe he would notice your efforts and begin to take an interest.

You entered the bar and began getting ready to serve the Saturday night crowd, handing around ewers of ale and plates of cold buns and cheese. The inn not only had a dedicated stream of locals every Saturday, but it also tended to draw groups of visitors from some of the smaller towns, as well as travelers on the road who needed a room for the night. You tried to keep your eyes on your work, but they kept flitting to the doorway without your permission, seeking any trace of the grumpy Spaniard and flickering the hope in your gut when they didn’t see him. As the barroom filled, you wondered whether he would appear at all. You pushed all hope of seeing him down, stomping on it and trying to keep yourself focused.

You hurried to the kitchen for another round of buns, and when you emerged into the bar he was there, sitting at “his” table and scowling his usual scowl. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and you felt your face heat with desire. When Tovar saw you his face opened, and the first genuine smile you had ever seen painted his lips. The rest of the raucous room fell away, and you zipped straight to his table, depositing the plate of buns that had been intended for someone else.

“Hello Pero.” You bit your lip, never having addressed him with his name before. Was it too forward?

“Hello, mi-” he stopped himself, then said your name, almost reluctantly. Had he forgotten it in the few hours since you had seen each other last?

You smiled tightly, a little less warmly than before. Icy flakes swept over your girlish crush and your ardor cooled. If he had already forgotten your name, he must not be interested. “Ale?”

He nodded. “Yes… if you please.”

Your thin layer of ice melted. A “please” from this man was like high praise from anyone else. You nodded and went to the bar, filling an ewer and a mug, and delivering both to his table. You wanted to linger, but calls from the other side of the room interrupted any notion of getting to spend more time with Tovar.

You nodded once at him and departed, taking care of the other guests and helping your father lug another barrel of ale from the back. Every time you dared glance at Tovar he was watching you, gentle interest and curiosity issuing from his eyes, instead of the menacing scowl he had sported when he first arrived. You tried to focus on your usual tasks, letting the rowdy laughter of the bar patrons wash over you, but you could feel Pero’s eyes on you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at him again and again, far too often. Your distraction was probably the reason that disaster struck.

Your eyes were again on Pero as you made your way across the room, and your toe caught the edge of someone’s foot, causing you to stumble and spill a mug of ale all over a large man. He bellowed in anger. You saw that he was a stranger, and as he unfolded himself from his chair and stood up, you could see that he was twice as broad as you and nearly two heads taller. The ale soaked his tunic and dripped onto the floor.

Before you could open your mouth to apologize, the man raised his hand to strike you. Suddenly his furious face crumpled into pain. He fell to his knees in front of you, the raised arm now twisted behind his back. As his knees hit the floor, Pero’s face materialized behind the man’s shoulder. Pero’s trademark scowl was directed at the back of the man’s head as he hissed instructions to the stranger.

“Apologize to the woman.”

The man spit out a curse and then refused. “She’s a whore!” Another wail of pain issued from his open mouth as Pero twisted his arm up and back.

He leaned down and spoke into the man’s ear, so low that you almost couldn’t hear it. “Apologize.”

The man dropped his head to his chest and whined out a stream of words that included several “sorrys” and “my mistakes”. You looked at him, eyes still wide with shock, mouth frozen into a grimace. Pero looked at you and then gave the man’s arm one final shove. A sickening crack met your ears and the man groaned as he fell forward onto his face.

“Now leave! And do not come back.” The man and his companions scrambled to the exit, and the rest of the customers murmured to themselves as they returned to their own drinks and gossip.

“Mi alma, are you alright?” Pero reached his hand out to you and you shook your head, tears springing to your eyes.

You spun on your heel and ran out of the bar, turning to flee to the back hallway, hands shaking. You pressed your back to the wall and then bent over at the waist, trying to catch your breath. You had seen bar fights before, and broken up a handful when they happened here and there, but you had never seen violence like that up close. You had never seen such hatred on a man’s face as the anger that had colored Pero’s features. You had the sense that Pero would have gladly killed the man and not had a second of remorse.

You heard a foot scrape the floor and you shot upright. Pero was at the end of the hall, eyes flickering in the light from the lone candle on the table. He put both hands out to you, palms facing you in a gesture of openness, approaching one slow step at a time.

“I am sorry. I am sorry.” His voice was low and calm. “Please forgive me.”

“No,” your own voice sounded high and panicked to your ears. “Stop. Don’t hurt me.”

Pero’s face crumpled and he halted his approach. “Hurt you? No, never. I would never hurt you. Please believe me.” He took another step toward you.

“But that man- You, you broke-”

Pero interrupted your awful cry. “Ssshhh, no. No, mi alma. That was not a man. He was a beast. I made him apologize and leave.”

Pero took another step, closing the distance between you to one stride. You were surprised to see tears in the corners of his eyes as well.

“I thought I was saving you, mi alma. Protecting you.”

“You did, you protected me, but- How were you so fast? And why do you keep calling me ‘mi alma’?”

Pero closed the final distance between you and reached his hands out to hold both of yours. He stepped close, and you had to tilt your head back to look into his eyes.

“I love you. You have enchanted me. ‘Mi alma’ means my soul. It means you have my love and my heart.” He looked deep into your eyes. “... and my body, if you so desire.”

He inclined his head and his lips met yours. You felt your head spin, heart pulsing through every vein, pounding in your ears as you let yourself be kissed, over and over again. You had kissed boys before, and even one young man in the village, but this was like being kissed for the first time anew. Pero kissed you with passion, with intent.

His hands gripped your waist and held you to him as your fingers entwined themselves up into his neck and the hair at the back of his neck. Pero broke the kiss and leaned toward your ear. His voice was low and gravelly, striking something in your core and sending sparks to your throat.

“I fell in love with you today. When I caught you looking at me as I changed the lantern. When you sat with me and met my eyes with your own and you didn’t shy away. When I saw that you had changed into a new dress, had made yourself pretty just for me.”

Your breath left your lungs in a huff, and the only sound you could make was a low hum.

Pero continued whispering words and warm breath across your ear, sending shivers down your neck, making your nipples harden with desire.

“I will take care of you, mi alma. Let me take you to bed and show you everything that you need to know. Let me show you how to make love to a man, to please him. How to take a husband and take your own pleasure, too.”

“Ohh…” You hardly recognized your voice as your own, and before you could say more, Pero kissed you again, opening your mouth and slipping his tongue inside. He pressed his hips against you, pinning you to the wall. You could feel his hardness against your hip; but instead of scaring you or making you feel ashamed, it stoked the fire in you from a flame to an explosion.

You kissed Pero back, as hard and as eager as he had kissed you. And then you did something you never would have imagined: you reached behind your waist and grabbed his wrist, bringing his hand up to cup around your breast. He squeezed and thrust his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans and squeaks.

He broke the kiss again to suck and nip at your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Every kiss inflamed you further, and you pressed your hips against his, rubbing from side to side to feel his hardness through the layers of your skirts.

“Let me take you to bed, mi alma. Let me make love with you.” Pero’s voice dropped to a low rumble. You could barely hear him above the thrum of your own heartbeat, but the words sent a new rush of something hot and wet to your private area.

“Let me kiss you between your legs, to taste you. Let me show you everything I know. Let me have you, and you may have me… all of me. Let me love you, mi alma.”

Your mouth opened and you spoke the only true answer to his request.

“Yes, Pero. Please.” --- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

My “all fics” tag list:

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul

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#Pero Tovar x reader #Pero Tovar x you #pero tovar x fem!reader #The great wall fic #the great wall fanfiction #Pero Tovar fic #Pero Tovar fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #Pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[ellavogues]

sunday mornings - harry styles

summary: your relationship with harry has always been ‘whatever it is’, although you both secretly long for more.

a/n so this was originally posted on my old blog which i deactivated, but im too proud of this to let it be gone forever <3

Sunday mornings always seem to start the same. You’re cozied up in his bed, head on his chest and his arm splayed across you, the light shining through the gaps of his curtains.

Memories from the night before tend to replay in your head as you wait for him to wake up - from the pre game at his house, to his hand on the small of your back leading you out to his car and only leaving to open the door for you, to the club or shitty frat party that he had somehow weaseled his way into where he’d hold your hand while he filmed and makeout with you in the corner once he had finished.

Then the journey home. Harry being the only sober one of his friends almost always ended up being the designated driver, dropping all of them off at their respective households. Not that he minded, it was the perfect opportunity for him to talk to you.

It was always incredibly easy talking to him. He was good at small talk, and he was good at turning small talk into meaningful and often fun conversations.

Conversing was one of his many talents you told him as he was dropping his friend off at his house one night. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the unique compliment you gave him, his hand landing gently in your thigh, giving it a small squeeze as his head tilted slightly back as he laughed.

“Baby, what does that even mean?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he tilted it to look at you. You could get lost in his eyes.

Even after six months of whatever your relationship with Harry was, your heart still skipped a beat every time he called you baby. You tried fruitlessly to stop ot hide the blush rising to your cheeks as a result of the nicknames he called you, but he never missed it.

It was one of his favorite things to see; something as simple as a pet name got you all nervous in the best way.

Despite Harry being better at hiding it, you had the same effect on him. Whether it’s you calling him Haz (you’re the only person he’ll allow it from) or you playing with his hair while you watch your show together, he gets butterflies in his stomach every time.

One day, when you came over for a movie night and ice cream, you came with a bunch of shopping bags. Harry’s first reaction was to wind you up, tease you for your frivolous shopping habits. But when you set your bags down and reached into one of them, feeling around for something and pulling out a T-Shirt and hoodie - a men’s T-Shirt and hoodie - Harry’s expression turned from playful and confused.

“What’s that for?” He asked casually, eyebrows furrowed.

“I was shopping for myself and I saw these and I, I thought they would look good on you,” you tell him, honestly nervous as to how he’d react. You had no idea how serious the two of you were, and whether this gesture, as simple as it may be, would scare him off.

But Harry’s confused face turned into a smile, relieving any anxieties you had. He couldn’t believe you thought of him when you saw these clothes and then cared enough about him to buy it.

That’s when he realized he loved you. And it scared the shit out of him.

He wore the hoodie to pick you up the next Saturday, repeating your weekly routine of hanging out then going out. He took everyone to a new bar that just opened that night, and invited some other friends outside of his usual group to join.

You had to watch some girls you’ve never met (but Harry clearly has) flirt with him while he wore a hoodie you bought. You hated how much it infuriated you, because despite how much you longed for him to be yours, he wasn’t. Your relationship with him was just whatever it was.

And you hated it because you loved him. And you hated that you loved him.

The next morning, Sunday morning, you woke up in his arms wearing his T-Shirt. Anyone would think that you were his, but you weren’t. You were the first to wake up, as always, and Harry was snoring beneath you. You felt like his, but you weren’t.

The week flew past, you only came over a few times for a movie night and to keep him company while he edited. Both times he wanted you to sleep over, so both times you did. How could you ever say no to him?

But the next day, when you woke up, he was gone already - off to some meeting or to film. You didn’t want to let it hurt you, because you knew how busy he was, how hard he worked. He doesn’t have time for a relationship with you more than whatever it was.

So you chose to ignore the pit in your stomach that only grew every time you left his house or every time he left early. You grabbed your things, shot him a text, and left, pretending it didn’t bother you. Because it didn’t bother you. That was just how things were, and how they had to be.

The next Sunday morning, he broke your heart.

Things were too complicated, there were too many strings and they were all beginning to get knotted. He needed to untie them before the knot got too big.

And you understood, like you always do. It was for the best, if he kept whatever the relationship you two had going any longer, you might’ve fallen too hard and obtained permanent damage only he could mend. So you just nodded in understanding, not daring to meet his eyes, as he tried to let you down gently.

It broke his heart too.

Harry didn’t realize at first, he thought that with you gone his love for you would vanish as quick as you did. But he was reminded by it constantly. He found himself staring at the hoodie you bought him, until he got so frustrated and confused that he tore it off the hanger and threw it to the back of his wardrobe. But then he started seeing your face in all the little things you two used to always share, like the fluffy blue blanket on his couch and the cookies you got him hooked on.

Eventually he found himself laying on his bed alone on a Sunday morning with the fluffy blue blanket and the hoodie you bought him.

You both tried dating, but it didn’t fill the freshly dug hole in your hearts.

The thing with knots is that they’re hard to untie and the strings remain tangled. The harder you pull the strings in opposite directions, the tighter the knot gets.

When some girl Harry was on a date with a random Saturday night told him he was a good conversationalist, he rudely and abruptly told her he had to leave and this wasn’t going to work out. His anger masked the hurt he felt from missing you.

The next morning he woke up without you in his arms, which just felt wrong for a Sunday morning.

He thought about calling you, he even stared at your contact for about half an hour before he had the balls to get up, grab his hoodie and drive to your place. He had no idea what to say to you.

When you opened your door at eleven a.m. that Sunday morning, he was the last person you were expecting.

“What do you want?” You words were cold and your face was blank. He broke your heart, which broke his.

“I fucking miss you.”

“You can’t do this, Harry,” you tell him, voice shaky as you put all your energy into keeping your guard up. “It’s not fair. You ended things. You didn’t want whatever the fuck our relationship was.”

“I don’t want that,” Harry says bluntly. “Fuck that. I want more than that. I want you to be mine.”

You’re taken aback at his words, you never thought that he’d ever find enough time in his busy, fast-paced, hectic life for you.

“You broke my heart.”

“I know, love, and I’m sorry,” Harry takes a step forward, reaching out to you. He knows the effect ‘baby’ has on you. “I was a fucking dumbass. I thought - I thought whatever feelings I had for you would disappear when you left, but they didn’t. You’re everywhere.”

“I’m not having a label-less relationship with you,” you state. “I want it to be official.”

Harry nods, stepping closer to you again. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

This was the best Sunday morning of them all.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you

[duxpuella]

Oneshot: It's already spring in my heart!

<Atention: Modern AU where Neil lives, and Welton’s a boys & girls school.

Warnings: Fluff; poetry; cheesy flirting; >

Words: 1k;

Note: Y/n - your name/ Y/Ln - your last name/ Y/fn - your friend’s name; As Welton is located at Vermont, i will use it's year calendar. This is based on this headcanon of my.

Plot: spending Valentine's Day with Neil P. - (gn!) reader

Also, here’s my Neil playlist, hope you enjoy it!

image font - credits to @gaydurden;

The snow was piling outside, although the winter was nearly on it's end. It was Valentine's Day week and, every student was utterly excited. Those were the days where couples bound together and love confessions were made. Happily (or not), Valentine's Day would be on Saturday, giving everyone a chance to spend with their significant others or simply ignoring the day if you might.

Mr. Keating, as a romance enthusiastic, couldn't help to give an assignment themed for the occasion. "A confession poem!" he said, which kept Neil thinking for a while. It could be either authorial or from another, already well-known, poet. He searched for hours, and yet nothing seemed to say exactly how he felt about (Y/n).

You've been flirting for a while and, although it was clear that he was into you and vice-versa, no one took action. He did invite you on dates quite often, and you both spent much time alone together (if that makes sense). But still, nothing official. Todd, on another hand, was already dating (Y/fn) for a few weeks. That made Neil both happy for his friend and worried for himself.

He was smooth with his intentions, perhaps way too smooth? But he didn't want to rush things either. Jesus, he frequently held himself back to avoid flirting with you all the time and not make you uncomfortable. Was he holding back way too much? Sure you made him feel like if an entire garden was growing out in his heart, and he could bet that bees followed you around... That's how sweet you were! But did you felt the same?

You both did talk almost every day, and you did laugh at most of his jokes. You called him by a pet name as much as he did with you, and you never excused yourself from his touches. You did flirt back every once in a while and dance with him occasionally too. Perhaps you did feel the same.

Also, Todd and (Y/fn) always encouraged him to confess. That must mean you liked him back, right? With his heart full of hope and inspired mind, he decided to write his poem. The dawn had already arrived, and Sunday was nearly on it's end. The assignment was due on Monday morning, and the students should read them out loud.

Neil did his best, 22h Todd turned the lights off, and the boys went to bed. Neil sent his usual "Good Night, Dove! Sleep well :)" and almost immediately he got the usual answer "Good night, Nightingale :)."

He locked his phone screen. "You know they like you back, right?" said Todd, "How are you so sure?" "Because it's obvious, Neil." "If it's that obvious, I would've noticed, wouldn't I?" "Indeed, but you're way too oblivious for that. And so are them, apparently!". "You're just being nonsensical..." Neil said, turning to his bed corner, "You know I'm not, but fine! Keep up with the denial." and they both give in to sleep.

Monday has arrived and tension floated by the corridors. Today was the assignment day, and nervousness was impossible to avoid. Neil woke up with a knot in his stomach and tried not to give it attention. Perhaps it would go away if he didn't acknowledge it. Suddenly his phone buzzed, Todd looked at him smirking. "Morning Nightingale, excited for Mr. K's class today?" Neil couldn't help but smile. "Morning Dove, sure! Are u?" "Ofc, see you there!" he locked his screen again.

"Shut up, Todd." "I didn't even say anything..." Todd answered, laughing at Neil's (now pink) cheeks. The three first periods were painfully slow, anxiousness keeping him from paying attention to anything at all. Until finally, Mr. Keating's class. He entered the room, quietly, "I hope you made your assignment class. As to open the day, (Y/n) would you do the honors?" and so they stand, answering a short yes to the teacher.

"I chose a sonnet from John Milton, is called 'To the Nightingale.'" Mr. Keating nodded, giving them space to continue. As Neil's heart skipped a beat, and the poets took a glance at him. (Y/n) looked at Neil for a few seconds, enough to make it even more obvious as to who the confession was meant.

Sonnet I : To The Nightingale O Nightingale, that on yon blooming spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hopes the Lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love. O if Jove’s will Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh; As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why. Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I.

font;

With the reading finished, the class burst into applause. Neil had a smitten look on his face which made you smile. It was a success, and hopefully, he had caught the hint this time. You had tried to confess many times, but his insecurities often got in your way. But this time, you would make your intentions as clear as water.

After you, two or three students tried their luck. But you couldn't exactly pay attention, neither could Neil. When Keating asked for volunteers, his hand automatically rose in the crowd. He walked to the class front once the teacher granted his permission and proceeded to read, out loud, the poem he wrote the night before.

The winter was long gone And for the first time in a Few months I felt the rays of sunshine Extend it's fingers through my skin The spring has arrived And although I liked the white Flowers, rabbits, and bees make me rhyme and feel like writing a love hymn Oh lover, look what you've done! There are roses and dandelions through the whole sidewalk of my house, you thrive your love in me!

this poem is of my authorship;

The class burst into applause once more, until a voice from the back called attention. "Is not exactly spring yet, Neil," said Charlie with a smirk only intending to tease his friend. A few classmates laughed as Neil answered "It's already spring in my heart!" without giving much thought to it. A wave of "Owwn" was spread as you smiled at him.

You both exchanged loving gazes. Your love was finally blossoming.

Hope you like it! I take requests by ask! (info on requests);

Also, you’ll find more of my writing here.

#duxpuella fanfics #dead poets society #dps fic #neil perry x reader #neil perry #dps fandom #dps fanfiction

[wingsofanillyrian]

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 1

ITS HERE! I plan on updating this weekly/biweekly, based on how busy I am. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list! 

Special thank you to my new F1 friend for inspiring this fic as well as being my beta reader, @acourtofcouture​ ! F1 fans out there, her fics are AMAZING

Chapter Masterlist

F1 Glossary

----------------

Nesta Archeron discovered Formula 1 when she was 9 years old. She woke before the sun one Sunday morning, quietly excited to have the television all to herself and watch whatever cartoons she wanted. But she couldn’t remember what channel they were on, instead flipping through the programs. She had almost given up when she stumbled across a race.

The moment she had seen the brightly colored open-wheeled cars flash across the screen, she paused. For whatever reason, the high pitched wasp-like scream of the twelve cylinder engines and the astonishing speed that the drivers were travelling enthralled young Nesta. She didn’t look away once for the rest of the race, or even for the post-race interviews and wrap up that most adults skipped. Something about it had her adrenaline pumping.

Nesta traded her dolls for matchbox cars, and when she grew older, picked up racing magazines instead of teen ones. Ever since that day, Formula 1 consumed her. No matter how the other kids or her two younger sisters teased her for it, her love for the sport never tarnished. 

She spent years getting up at 2 am to watch live races that were being held halfway around the world. Instead of going to her senior prom, Nesta stayed home and layed out her predictions for the season’s drivers and constructors championships. She didn’t know how to do anything half-ass. She poured her whole heart into the sport and devoted her life to it.

**********

Nesta spent her 24th birthday working. It wasn’t like she could request the day off, not that it mattered. The racetrack at Monaco was exactly where she would have been anyway, working or not.

A press pass got her through the first security checkpoint. The team tents loomed ahead as she waited for personnel to cross the unstriped asphalt, inching her car carefully through the throngs of people. She rolled her window down, soaking in the sound of air tools and snippets of conversations. 

Street tracks like Monaco were her favorite. They required drivers to push themselves with plenty of technical corners and dramatic incidents. There was less room for error, as the tracks themselves were not as wide. Drivers had to know their limits and follow the racing line closely.

Race tracks were Nesta’s comfort zone. She knew each track on the calendar like the back of her hand. Every turn was permanently etched in her mind like words on a tombstone. Race weekends followed a set schedule, something that she could appreciate. Friday: practice laps. Saturday: more practice, followed by qualifying, where each driver got the chance to set the fastest lap and secure a spot in the starting line up for the main event on Sunday.

Before she had graduated college, Nesta had managed to fully entrench herself in the world of Formula 1. Securing an internship at ESPN her sophomore year, she had made herself indispensable to the crusty old man that had been the senior track side reporter for decades. She studied everything he did and the questions he asked each driver, noting what changes she would have made. Somehow, he came to admire her spirit and taught her the tricks of the trade.

When he retired the year after Nesta graduated, he went to the board of directors and personally recommended her to fill his spot. She waited two agonizing days for their decision. 

Using whatever means necessary, Nesta had clawed her way to the top and cemented her reputation as the most cutthroat reporter in the industry. Her goal had been for everyone in motorsport to know her name, and in only two years, she had done so. Better yet, she had caught the eye of one of the fastest drivers on the grid.

Her phone rang just as she pulled into the press parking area. She answered, not bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

Tomas’ velvety voice thundered through the speakers of her Civic. “Hey baby. You here yet?”

“Just pulled in,” She replied, touching up her makeup in the rearview. 

“Right on time for a quickie. Meet me at my trailer in five.”

Tomas had already hung up before she had the chance to protest. Both their reputations hinged on their relationship staying secret. If the press caught wind that she was fucking a driver, her credibility would go out the window, and Tomas would be the laughing stock of the grid. So sneaking into his trailer wasn’t exactly the type of discreet she was aiming for.

Tomas Mandray had been racing for Red Bull for two years when she had scored her first exclusive interview with him. He had just been awarded pole position at the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, and Nesta had sweet talked her way into the paddock. It had taken minutes for his charming blue eyes to enchant her. He had won that race, and taken her to bed straight after. 

The sex was great, but that’s all it ever was. Their relationship was purely based on the physical; nothing emotional on either end. They had agreed on that from the start. Just sex.

Unfortunately for Nesta, somewhere along the way it had become something more.

Sighing, she put on her oversized sunglasses and hid her tawny hair under a gauzy scarf. The fashion wouldn’t stand out at all amongst the celebrities that frequented the Monaco Grand Prix. Going over the top here was expected; Monaco was known for its money. Due to the lack of income tax, Monaco was a haven for white collar delinquents and royalty alike. Lamborghini’s and Ferrari’s were commonplace, and women wore rings that could set a jewel thief up for life. 

No one bothered her as she strode towards the pit checkpoint, flashing her press badge to get by. She fell into her usual cadence, exuding an air of importance and invincibility. Seemingly without realizing, people moved out of her way when they saw her coming. The navy, red, and yellow of the Redbull tent came into view, and Nesta inserted herself into the crowd of mechanics and VIPs to get past security. Press wasn’t allowed in the area until after the race.

Nesta broke away once inside, heading down a back corridor. She knew the layout by heart, having walked the path many times. The door at the end of the hall led outside to Tomas’ private trailer. She didn’t bother to knock before entering. Tomas would already be waiting for her.

He set down his phone as she entered. “Finally,” He said with a savage grin. “We only have a few minutes.”

****************

Tomas left as soon as he finished, donning his jumpsuit without so much as a kiss goodbye. Utterly used to the behavior, Nesta straightened her clothes and again touched up her makeup before heading back out.

She was scheduled to conduct a pre-race interview with Cassian Valle in the Mercedes tent in twenty minutes. Redbull and Mercedes were at opposite ends of the pit, giving her plenty of time to think.

Truthfully, Nesta was dreading the interaction. Cassian was an arrogant ass. She couldn’t stand interviewing him; all he did was skirt around questions and try to flirt, which made it incredibly difficult to get any headline-worthy tidbits from him.

Azriel Sainz, Cassian’s teammate at Mercedes, was much more amiable. He was mostly forgettable and quiet, but always gave her something to work with and was sometimes downright pleasant to talk to. She could understand why the public loved him, but not why they were so enamored with Cassian. Sure, he was a three time world champion, and that earned him plenty of fans, but he was just so… dreadful.

She made it to the Mercedes pit just minutes before the scheduled time, immediately spotting her tense cameraman, Jacob. Slim built, he was average looking, nothing special. He was sweet though, if not a bit of a pushover.

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed, chocolate brown eyes wide. “Valle is waiting.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, handing Jacob her sunglasses and the scarf. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Not my fault if he was early.” Nesta accepted her microphone and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with then.”

“Happy birthday by the way,” Jacob added. Yes, there was the pushover side shining through. 

Nesta threw a grin at him over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

Cassian’s back was to her as she approached, his white Mercedes jumpsuit half on, the arms of it cinched around his waist. The crisp gray shirt he wore left little to the imagination, hugging his sculpted form. Good; at least that would capture the attention of any women that might be watching. As would the deep brown curl that fell in his face when he turned to her.

“If it isn’t my very favorite reporter,” He crooned, a grin plastered on his face. “Took you long enough to get here. I also hear it’s your birthday.” Nesta glared at Jacob. He shrank under her steely look, an apology stumbling from his lips.

“I would give you a birthday kiss, but I think you’d knock me out if I offered.”

Nesta pointedly ignored him, “Let’s just get on with it,” She said, motioning to Jacob to start recording. Once he signaled he was ready, Nesta breathed deep, the sweet scent of high octane fuel assaulting her senses. It steadied her, and she slipped into her professional mask before turning to the camera.

“As we all know, the Monaco Grand Prix offers drivers a unique set of challenges. The two-mile street course has 19 technical corners with little room for error. It is in Monaco that we get to see who has what it takes to be a Formula 1 champion.” She turned to Cassian, gave him a professional smile and continued.

“Last year, you had a puncture at turn seven when you ran over some debris. Coupled with the fumble the pit crew had with not having your tires ready when you came into the pit, you finished a disappointing 12th place, winning you no points in the driver’s championship. Do you expect that this year will be better, or will you stick to your usual aggressive driving style?”

Cassian laughed, running a hand through his unbound curls. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be changing anything. You can expect to see me on the podium, sweetheart. Most likely in first.”

Nesta grit her teeth. She couldn’t air that, and he knew it. “How about you answer the question without trying to piss me off?”

“It’s too easy,” Cassian said, that devilish grin returning. Nesta cut him a glare that simmered with violence. “Alright fine,” He relented, putting his hands up. “Go again.”

She repeated her question, and this time he answered, “I don’t really see any need to change my driving style, what happened last year was a fluke. I went wide on the turn and didn’t notice Vanserra's front wing until the last second and wasn’t able to change course.” Nesta nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I don't see myself making any mistakes like that this year. You can expect to see me on the podium, most likely in first.”

“Thank you for that Cassian. Good luck on the track today.”

“Thank you,” He said, waving at the camera. He paused before adding, “Though I won’t need luck.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and signaled for Jacob to cut the recording. At least that last bit could be edited out. “You are absolutely insufferable, you know that?”

Cassian shrugged, undoing the arms of his fire suit and slipping into them. “I do my best.” He winked at her before zipping up his suit, opening his mouth to say something else when the Mercedes team principal, Rhysand, barked at him to get his ass in gear. He gave Nesta a wordless salute before jogging off.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jacob said, packing up his camera. “That guy has balls.”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver,” Nesta said simply, putting her sunglasses back on. “Of course he does.”

**********

Nesta watched the 78 lap race from the press box, silently cheering Tomas on. Each time the pack of cars passed, the windows rattled, doing little to muffle the engine noise. She chatted with the others as necessary, keeping one eye on the tarmac below. Tomas had started from pole position, and held onto first place until the final 10 laps. He had attempted to lap an AlphaTauri driver when the driver had failed to yield, violating FIA regulations. The two had bumped tires in what was ruled a racing incident, but Nesta knew better. Tomas had lost his cool and nudged the other driver on purpose, nearly sending him into the wall. 

It was a bad call on Tomas’ part, as the comfortable four second lead he had held over second place shattered. Nesta swore under her breath as Cassian overtook Tomas, her heart dropping when the other Mercedes driver, Azriel, did the same. Tomas would not be happy about that. 

When the checkered flag waved, Cassian was first, Azriel second, and Tomas third.  The winners parked before the podium, anger radiating from Tomas as he tore his helmet off. Tamlin, the Redbull team principal, said something to Tomas that had his cheeks burning red. 

Nesta grabbed Jacob and headed for the press room. They had a half hour tops before the post-race interviews started, and Nesta had to make sure she was front row. Though it didn’t matter where she sat; she always made sure her questions were answered.

It was more so for Tomas. She wanted him to see her, to see the understanding on her face and know she supported him even when he didn't win.

They were first to the press room, and Nesta had ample time to prepare questions. She couldn’t question Tomas, or she risked uncapping his rage. Instead, she jotted down a question she knew would shift the focus from Tomas to the Mercedes drivers.

Reporters began filing in, vying for the perfect spot and debating the race results with one another. Nesta remained in her seat, determined to maintain her composure as her stomach churned. Tomas finally entered, jaw set as he took his place on the stage. Nesta tried to subtly catch his eye, but he pointedly avoided looking at her. 

Cassian and Azriel entered, laughing and congratulating each other. Nesta noted the slight change in Tomas’ posture, the only hint of the blood boiling beneath his skin. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted, but still Nesta remained seated. Cassian, at least, sought her out in the crowd, and flashed her an ‘I-told-you-so’ grin when he found her. Once the clamor had died down, Nesta stood. The room quieted further, the others having learned not to talk over her if they valued their jobs. Nesta had a knack for digging up dirt on anyone she pleased.

Her eyes were still locked on Cassian as the moderator indicated she could ask her question. 

“Azriel,” She started, turning to the dark haired man, “You were lucky you were able to take second in this race, after the incident in turn twelve on lap 27 when you sustained heavy damage to your front wing, thanks to the actions of your teammate. Does it ever get under your skin that Valle’s overly-aggressive driving threatens your own position in the championship?”

The room was silent. Tomas hid his grin behind a well-manicured hand. Cassian’s eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw fluttering. Good; she had hit a nerve. Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“It was a racing incident. Could have happened to anyone. I don’t think the blame lays entirely with Cassian; I could have given him more room on the corner.”

And that was that. Nesta didn’t ask any more questions, but she could feel Cassian glaring at her throughout. At the end of the interview, all three drivers thanked everyone before leaving.

As Nesta made her way back to her car, she texted Tomas.

You okay?

Her heart pounded as she waited for the reply. Her phone buzzed minutes later.

I’ll be home late. Party at the Redbull house.

Oh. Okay. See you later then.

“Happy birthday to me,” She muttered, stuffing the phone in her pocket.

Nesta wasn’t sure why his reply stung, but it cut deep. She had hoped that he would want to see her instead of going to another party and spend time with her on her birthday. Instead, he would probably stick his tongue down another woman’s throat like usual. She couldn’t really blame him. Their relationship had to remain secret and to do so, Tomas had to maintain his playboy aura. It wasn’t really cheating if she had agreed to it.

But if that were true, why did it hurt so fucking bad when he did?

Some of her tension eased when she finally spied her car in the lot. The Blue Bullet, she had nicknamed it, due to the strikingly bright paint. It was the first purchase she had made upon being promoted, and it had since become her pride and joy. She had chosen it because it set lap records left and right when it had hit the market a few years back, and she had craved speed her whole life. On city streets, this car was the closest she could get to experiencing Formula 1 without completely breaking the bank.

“How about you don’t ask stupid fucking questions next time your prettyboy loses?”

Nesta’s breath hitched. Your prettyboy. The accusation was clear. Her hand slipped from the door handle, turning towards the voice. If he knew… If he knew about her and Tomas, they were done for. She willed her voice into solid steel.

“Cassian. I would advise you to choose your next words wisely.”

He placed a hand on her Civic, getting in her face. “Racing means you have racing incidents. I don’t expect you to understand, seeing as you’ve never been behind the wheel of a real race car.” He sneered at her car, the insult striking home.

Fear faded, replaced by a rising wave of scarlett rage. Nesta’s gaze stuck to where his hand lay on the bright blue paint, utterly vexed by the infringement. She bared her teeth at him, rising to the challenge in Cassian’s flaming hazel eyes. 

“Get. Off.”

Cassian started at the command in her tone and obeyed. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Understanding the nuances of Formula 1 is my job description. I asked about that incident because I knew it would piss you off. Looks like I was right huh?” Her temper was getting the better of her. “And by the way, would it kill you to give me a decent quote once in a while, instead of always trying to get in my pants?”

“I do not-”

“Oh go fuck yourself,” Nesta scoffed, yanking the door open. 

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as she slammed the car door. “I was already planning on it.”

Those parting words haunted her drive home, even as she took the long way in hopes of blowing off steam. She shifted through the gears, throwing the Civic around corners much faster than was probably safe. Nesta didn’t care; her head was a mess. At least he hadn’t mentioned anything more about Tomas. Maybe Cassian had just thought she had a crush, based on the way she had been looking at him during the conference. Gods, she couldn’t get Cassian out of her head. 

His grin followed her up the stairs to her apartment, where she snapped the curtains shut. She couldn’t bear to look out over the track any longer today. 

Those words echoed in her head as she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed alone. Swam through her thoughts of Tomas, as she struggled to keep her eyes open when the clock showed 1 am. As she finally gave in, they were her last thought. 

I was already planning on it. 

@aphoeni @planet-faerie  @nina-zcnik @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland--memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @illyrianshadowhunter​ 

#Lights over monaco #nessian #nessian au #nessian fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of war and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar fanfiction #my writing #nesta archeron #cassian #lucien vanserra

[moralesispunk]

First Dates

Marcus Moreno x Reader

Summary - You and Marcus finally go on your first date together

No warnings

This is the second part of my Marcus fic

Master list / Part 1 here < / part 3 here >

On the drive home from your morning with Marcus, you couldn’t stop the smile that had taken over your face. While you had been enjoying spending time with him casually, his company sweetening your caramel latte mornings, you were excited to go on an official date with him.

You were a bit nervous over the fact you had already met Missy, knowing that he had avoided introducing or even telling Missy about any of his dates since he started dating again. However, by the sounds of things he had mentioned you to her before and, well, that made your whole chest warm.

While you knew that you were enjoying your time with Marcus more than just as new friends you weren't thinking that he was feeling the same. He was handsome and kind and you kept putting the spark you thought you felt down to his politeness. The fact that it wasn’t a one-sided feeling made you happier than you could believe.

Once you arrived home you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning your apartment before making dinner. As you looked out all of the ingredients you would need you heard your phone ringing from the kitchen counter. You looked over in enough time to see the screen flashing with an unknown number but the call ended before you could reach for it. Two seconds later a text flashed through from the same number:

It’s Marcus - from the coffee shop!

You smiled, swiping across to phone him back. He answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hi,” his voice came through, a litter shyer than you had heard it before.

“Hello, Marcus from the coffee shop,” you sang back.

His laugh came through the speaker, a little altered but as beautiful as always.

“I thought you might not answer a call from an unknown number.”

“Good thinking. So, did you and Missy get home okay then?”

“Safe and sound,” he replied and you could hear the smile in his voice, “she’s in watching TV and I’m just making some dinner. What are you doing?”

“Making some dinner too, some spicy chicken pasta I think. What’s on the menu at the- I just realised I don’t know your last name!”

Your laughter mixed together over the speakers, laughing at the fact that while you had shared a lot with each other over this past month your last names hadn’t been on that list.

This moment meant more to Marcus than you had known. While he told you about his work and you said you had heard of the Heroics but didn't know much about them, the fact you didn't know his last name meant you hadn't looked him up to read whatever the news had put out about him over the years.

“Moreno, and yours?”

You gave him your last name before going on.

“Well, whats on the menu at the Moreno household tonight then?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs, they’re Missy’s favourite.”

“I do like spaghetti and meatballs, good choice Missy.”

“Maybe I can make them for you some time,” his flirty smile evident from his deep voice ringing through the phone.

“That sounds even better.”

The both of you spent the rest of the time you made dinner on the phone. You told him that you had the Netflix show he told you about lined up to watch while eating dinner and laughed at the sound of pots and pans clattering together followed with him cursing under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear. 

Marcus finished making dinner first and you hear the tail-end of him shouting for Missy.

“So, you’ll let me know how you like the show?” his voice back to sounding shy again.

“Of course, enjoy dinner Marcus.”

“You too,” he replied, your name sounding soft as it comes from his lips.

As soon as you finish making dinner, plating enough for tonight and putting the rest in a leftover tub, you sit down to watch the show Marcus had told you about. It was a murder mystery show, based on another book of the same author he had been reading when you first met.

Once the first episode finished you clicked on the next, knowing that you would probably finish this show tonight. It was amazing and you could imagine Marcus as he watched it, guessing along with the detectives and getting excited when he got the twist before anyone on the show, the same way he must have done while reading his book from all the notes he left behind. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m loving this! On to the next episode already.

Marcus: I knew you would love it! Do you have any guesses yet?

You text one another back and forth for the rest of the night and you make your way through the show like you thought. Marcus decides to join you in watching the last episode, wanting to watch at the same time as you. You phone him as soon as you finish, realising it was left on a cliffhanger.

“They can’t end it like that!”

Marcus laughs at you reaction, hearing your voice echo through before his finger had even lifted from the answer button.

“It’s not funny! Are they making another series?”

“I think so, I’ve heard it’s coming out in a few months,” he replies, still laughing.

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“So, you really liked it then?”

“I really did. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you liked it,” he said.

“Well, it is getting late now and I think I’m going to head to bed but I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“I would like that. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

You went to bed smiling at the thought of Marcus that night. You were falling for a man who you had only met a few times before and technically hadn’t been on even a first date with yet. It scared you but something in you told you to give in to the fall.

---------

The next day you woke to a good morning text from Marcus, telling you that him and Missy were going to his mums for the day and to have a good day.

You went about your Sunday as normal, running errands with a little extra skip in your step. As you put your shopping in your car and sat in the drivers seat, your phone flashed with Marcus’s name.

“Hello!” you answered.

“Hi, how are you today?” he asked.

“I’m good, just running errands. Hows your day at your mums?”

“Good, I mean she has me and Missy working hard in the kitchen,”  he laughs, “I was actually phoning to see if you’re free on Saturday for dinner? Missy is going to stay at my mums that night.”

“I am indeed, that sounds lovely Marcus.”

“Great, I’m looking forward to it! I’ve got to go before head chef notices I’ve went missing but I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Marcus.”

The rest of the week goes in quickly and you Marcus talk every day. You spend some nights talking on the phone for hours after Missy went to bed or in days you were busy you both managed even just a quick text on your breaks from work. 

Marcus: The one day I had planned to finish work early and I just a pile of paperwork the height of me put on my desk

You: Just sneak out, you're the leader of the Heroics after all!

You: Should I have pizza or pasta for dinner?

Marcus: Pasta! Definitely pasta.

By the time Saturday came, you weren’t nervous but rather excited to see Marcus again. He had told you that would pick you up at 7 and had booked a table at his favourite Italians.

You spent the day relaxing and looking forward to it, looking out some clothes you felt good in but nothing too fancy. You enjoyed taking the time to do your hair and make up just as you liked it, having a spare 15 minutes to sit and wait before he should be arriving. In those 15 minutes the butterflies finally came. You were going on a date with a man who you had been slowly falling for over a month before quickly hitting the ground over this past week.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, answering it to find Marcus standing at the other side. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting something a little smarter than you had seen before with a nice shirt and trousers. His hair was combed back too but the same glasses perched on his nose. His bright smile was on his face as usual, looking a little shyer now though.

“Hi, I got you these,” he said, handing over the most beautiful flowers you think you’ve ever seen.

“Oh Marcus, they’re stunning. Have I got time to put them in some water before we leave?” you asked and he nodded.

You invited him inside, walking straight to the kitchen to fill up a vase for the flowers.

“You have a lovely place,” Marcus said, smiling at some of the photos and art you had hanging up on the wall. He guessed who was who in the photos from what you had told him about your family before, the tall man you had your arm slung around at a barbecue who looked a lot like you must have been your younger brother and the older couple you were standing next to at what looked like a wedding your parents.

“Thank you, its just rented so can’t do too much to it but I think I’ve managed to make it feel enough like home for now,” you voice called out to the hall.

You fixed the flowers in the vase, placing it on the kitchen table. You didn’t notice but Marcus had moved to standing against the doorway, watching as you did so. You looked beautiful as you carefully fixed the flowers in the vase, carefully lifting one to smell it before smiling and putting it back in its place.

“Ready?” you asked, turning to smile at him.

“Ready,” he said back, trying not to fluster under your gaze.

He walked out, leading you out to his car, opening the door and waiting till you had got in to shut it before walking around to the drivers side.

The drive there was comfortable, the quiet radio filling what few silences you shared. He told you about the restaurant, a small family run Italians he stumbled across one day that made the best home-made pasta. It wasn’t too far from where you stayed and when you arrived Marcus told you to wait, letting him get out to open up your door for you.

It was such a simple gesture but one you couldn’t remember having been done for you before. He held your hand as you got out the car, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked to the restaurant. 

It looked small and cosy, the place lit by few lights but a lot of candles. The smell of pasta and sauce and wine filled your senses as Marcus opened the door for you, giving his name to the man at the front. They took you over to a table near the back, a cosy booth that meant you were sitting close to one another.

“The penne arrabbiata is amazing here,” Marcus said as you opened up the menus.

“It does sound good, what are you getting?”

You read through the menus together before ordering your food and drinks. Just as the young waiter walks off an older man comes over, dressed similarly but a bit different to the rest of the staff.

“Mr Moreno,” the mans voice booms as he leans to shake Marcus’s hand.

“Peter. I told you, Marcus is fine,” he replies as he shakes the mans hand back

“And who is this lovely lady, not your usual companion tonight,” the man turns to smile at you.

You look back at Marcus, half jokingly raising your eyebrow, before turning back to the man. Marcus gives him your name, letting the man know you're on a date as what must be the manager smiles and shakes your hand back before leaving you to your night.

“He meant Missy, by the way. We usually come here for lunch when we’re in the mood for pasta, she likes that the kids menu is the same as the adults just smaller portions. Just in case you thought he meant-,”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night learning even more about each other than you already had. It was strange, for it being your first date you already knew so much about one another. 

At the end of the night, Marcus came back from the toilet, lifting your jacket to help you into it.

“We need to pay,” you said as you brought your arms into the sleeves.

“Already sorted it,” Marcus said back as he put his own jacket on, giving you a cheeky smile.

“Will you ever let me pay for something?” you teased back.

“Maybe one day.”

You walked back to the car, Marcus helping you in once again, before driving back to your home.

“I had a lovely night, Marcus. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” you said, turning to face him.

His face was lit by the street lights casting a flashing orange hue over his face. His eyes sparkled every time the light touched them. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned to face you at the red light.

“Me either. I really enjoy spending time with you. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he said back, reaching to lift your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently into the back of your hand, his eyes staring into yours as he did so. It felt like this one simple moment lasted forever, your stomach doing flip after flip. You couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face, visible even in the dark night. As the light turned green, Marcus turned to face the road now but held your hand in his. You looked over his every feature, from his hair to his nose to the stubble that covered his jaw.

He pulled up outside your home with you still admiring him.

“Can I walk you in?” he asked, undoing his seatbelt as you nodded.

You both walked towards your door, his hands in his pockets and you playing with your hands.

“So, I really did have a wonderful night Marcus,” you said.

“So did I. Can we do this again?”

“I would definitely like that,” you replied.

A silence fell over you both for moment, looking anywhere but one another’s eyes. When you finally looked up your eyes met his. They quickly darted down to your lips before looking back up again. Feeling braver than you usually would, you took a step forward so there was little space between your bodies now.

You reached up, placing your hand on the side of his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment, leaning into your hand, before he lifted his hands to cup your face. You both leaned in at the same time, your lips brushing over one another slightly before he finally leaned in to kiss you properly.

It was gentle and soft. Your mouths moved in time with one another, no rushing as you enjoyed each other in this moment. Your hand left his cheek and moved to hold gently onto his arm. When you finally broke apart, a little breathless and giddy, neither of you moved further apart.

You stayed for a moment, your hand resting on his arm and his hands gently holding your face. He leaned down and gave you a final soft kiss before stepping back a little.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small laugh hidden in the word.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“So, I’ll give you a call?” he said, placing his hands back in his pockets.

You nodded, “let me know when you get home safe?”

He gave you a smile, waiting until you unlocked the door to head in before turning back to his car. As you walked in to your place you turned just in time to catch Marcus skip a little as he hopped of the curb to walk round to the drivers side. You waited by the door, both waving at one another as he headed off.

Neither of you were falling anymore. You had both fallen, hard.

----------

Tags: @heythere-mel

#marcus moreno #Marcus Moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno fanfic #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno oneshot #marcus moreno headcannon #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #headcannon #oneshot #marcus moreno x y/n

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

The Time Of The Season

A/N: Hey guys! I finally felt slightly good enough to post this and hopefully, it does this story some justice. The wedding is coming up and a surprise or two is in store before this whole craziness wraps up! All of the love from me to you and thank you for being patient with me!

Warnings: Fluff, smut, tw: slight somnophilia, tw: slight choking, tw: daddy kink, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, creampies (because I'm so predictable), oral sex (F receiving), all kinds of warm fuzzies (because again I love these two), squirting

(PLEASE for the love of Satan let me know if I miss a tag or TW, I try to be so hyper-aware and I miss tags all the time, I am so sorry)

The light shone through the cream curtains once again in your soft bedroom. The rays of sunlight bathing the cotton sheets as you woke up to the sound of his breath panting on the back of your neck.

The baby hairs standing in goosebumps as the hot air ebbed and flowed over your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pulling you into him like a stuffed animal, forcing his morning wood to bury itself into the crevices of your asscheeks. You laughed slightly, eyes still shut, bathing in the morning sun as you listened to the morning sounds. The birds chirping, a lawnmower in the distance stirring, along with someone hammering something down the road. It was another lazy Sunday.

Flip didn't have work, and it was the only day out of the week you both truly had for the two of you together. And you both made the most out of it doing the simple tasks you loved of course, on top of planning a stressful wedding, to which you both shoved aside for this day and this day only.

It was perfect, the feeling of him tightening his grip on your waist as he began to stir awake as well. His gruff moan in between your shoulder blades hid his tired eyes to the morning sunlight. He pecked the skin with his lips, rubbing up and down your midsection as you melted into him.

“Good morning, cowboy,” you whispered, running a small hand through his bed head as he gruffed a reply back.

“Mornin’,” he rose from behind you, laying a head between your neck and shoulder as he pushed into your head massage, “how did you sleep honey?” he whispered back, kissing and licking on your earlobe.

“Mmm, so good,” you said with a slight gasp, feeling his big hand knead your naked tit, hearing his graveled voice moan in his throat as he felt your ass push back on his pelvis.

“Is my butterfly all wet?” he groaned, his cock stiffening even harder as he heard your pretty voice sing for him, “did I not do my job last night?” smiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, running his other hand to cup your cunt in his grip, your folds completely slicked with arousal.

“Jesus, honey,” he growled, inhaling your sweet floral scent as you moaned, your hips pushing into his digits as he circled your bud with his middle finger slow and steady.

“I’ll always need you, Phil,” his tip twitched hearing your gorgeously shrill voice whisper his name.

“Just say the words, Y/N, I’ll make ya feel good,” inching his cock in between your warm thighs, his eyes rolling back in his head from the touch of your supple skin on his aching member.

“Fuck me, cowboy,” gripping his cheek from behind in a searing kiss, his hips pushing his dick deep into you with a single thrust, the feeling causing the both of you to groan in pleasure as your tongues touched each other.

“So, fuckin’ good for me,” he grunted, picking up the pace as he gripped your hip in a fervor, “I love you so much, Y/N,” panting as he kissed up and down your neck, bathing your mewls for him.

“I-I love you m-most,” you gasped, his tip gliding over your walls in the most tantalizing of ways, causing you to grip at the sheets in bundles while your mouth fell open in absolute pleasure.

“T-that’s it butterfly,” he cooed, picking up his pace again, slightly, to rub even faster on that spot he came to know very well, “you cum all over this cock,” he growled, bringing his free hand to grip your throat.

Your eyes rolling back in your head as the oxygen supply was depleting. Your moans and writhing only spurring his ministrations faster as he rubbed the spot to stoke that fire to a full blaze.

The feeling was euphoric. Your release came over you in a cascade of sparkles behind your closed eyes. The waterfall began from your crown to your toes as it washed over you in a stimulated haze. His words and actions only prolonging the high as he felt your velvet cunt clench around him.

“Jesus f-fucking,” he punched in once more, the hot gravy releasing into your hole in a flood as he gritted his teeth, his head resting in between your neck still while you pet his matted hair.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, kissing him in bliss as you felt his cum coat your walls, the warmth from the sun no match as you reveled in his release.

“Mmm, I’m glad I could help,” he panted, kissing you again, this time more sweetly as your breaths timed downward, and the highs subsided slowly.

“What are we up to today honey?” gripping your ass cheek as he slid himself out of you, making sure to stuff the dribble back up where it belonged, loving the little moans you released as he did so.

“What we usually do,” stretching yourself out while he hovered over you, kissing every inch of exposed skin and whispering pretty little things as he did so. You gripped his face after the tenth kiss on your stomach, bringing his handsome features to strike your soul as you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“I just love you,” whispering as he lowered himself to kiss you ever so softly, “so much,” your noses touching as your eyes closed in unison, taking each other in as best you could, his hands coming to rub your cheeks too.

“I love you the most,” he barely whispered, kissing you again, the feeling of his mustache tickling your upper lip in the best way.

“We should take the dogs to the market with us today,” he sat up, rubbing the side of his neck, his muscled back tensing as he groaned from the soreness.

“I think that’s a good idea, cowboy,” sitting up to bring your delicate hands to his shoulder blade, rubbing circles slow and steady as you felt him relax from your touch.

“Did you sleep on this wrong?” hearing him wince and moan as you rubbed the knot out from the muscle.

“Possibly,” he chuckled, “I’m just gettin’ old,” laughing out loud as he grunted up from the bed, heading to the bathroom to get the shower started for the two of you.

“Psh,” you threw the sheets off yourself, your naked form glowing in the sunlight with a warm glisten of sweat and beauty, “you’re anything but,” finding your way to the bathroom too.

_____________

Spring in Colorado was magical. The wildflowers were blooming everywhere you turned, the smell of the crisp mountain air, the slight bite in the wind as the clouds rolled by. It was all as if it had been in a storybook. And the city was booming with the end of Winter. Shops opened up their doors, restaurants had outdoor seating, and the most anticipated market had come back into the streets as farmers and salesmen alike showed off their wares and the people flocked from all over to get a taste of the local goods.

Flip and you loved to go on Sundays. The crowds were lesser as people were in church or doing something else for the day, and the produce was fresher and easier to spot than on any given Saturday. The flowers were also to die for; the array of colors cascaded in bright pinks, blues, indigos, and yellows all over the landscape.

The babies tagged along, clad in their sweaters to keep them warm in the breeze, and in booties to which Flip insisted as their feet needed to be protected from possible injury. They smelled the flowers, sat next to the booths with their daddy while mommy browsed through the picks of the day.

The deal always was to visit every booth regardless of a purchase or not. Your theory was that maybe you’d find something you didn’t even know you needed, to which Flip always rolled his eyes at being the bag carrier.

“Honey,” after the millionth booth it seemed, “the dogs are tired and I’m starving,” he almost whined, the babies sitting at his feet with their tongues hanging out, the bags everywhere as his hands got tired of carrying the loads.

You came out of the mecca of flowers, carrying several bouquets, “which one babe?” showing him the array you had in your arms.

“Butterfly,” he whined again, sighing as you waited for a response, “just pick one I don’t care which one it is... I just want a fucking hamburger,” watching you roll your eyes at his childlike attitude.

“Honey, please just tell me which one, I can’t decide between them,” begging him to answer with something as you were starving too.

“Fuck,” he grunted, adjusting himself so he could see them better, “I like those,” pointing at the bouquet with peonies all over them.

“I knew I loved you,” smiling ear to ear as he’d picked the exact one you wanted him to, skipping to the cashier to purchase the blooms.

He took the load to the car while you took the baby’s potty, making sure they were okay before deciding on a place to sit down and eat.

You both decided on a small bistro that had outdoor seating. A less popular one so you could sit and hear each other speak while letting the dogs lay under the chairs.

You both ordered drinks and skimmed over the menu items, settling on stuff to share rather than getting separate entrees. You loved the intimacy of having similar palates, reveling in the flavors together while you discussed details about the day, the week coming up, and just being in each other’s company.

Flip had been wound a little too tight lately. Well, he always was, but it had been elevated since this big murder case came across his desk. It was a string of them, all seemingly connected, but with no real evidence to link them together.

This frustrated him to no end, tracing back and forth on the same details, trying to find any sort of linkage, and coming up with only dead ends. The most aggravating part had to be that with every step forward in the case, there happened to always be another assault or murder stringing up to cloud the evidence in more confusion. It had to be coincidental, you kept telling him when he came home smelling of heavy cigarette smoke, there had to be a piece to this puzzle.

He always got his man. That was why he had been promoted to homicide. He was a good detective, looking through every shrivel of evidence until his eyes crossed. Not leaving any stone unturned. And if this killer was to be caught, he had to be the man to find him come Hell or high water.

But today wasn’t the day for that kind of talk. Today was the one day he found solace in being in reality. That reality, of course, being you and the life he had built out of nothing so suddenly.

He silently reveled in your musings, loving the sound of your voice as you spoke of wedding details and such. He still couldn't believe that this was his life. That you were here, changing it in all the best ways. Making it worth living and worth all the struggle it took him to get there.

He drowned in your laughter, your gestures, the way you sipped on your wine, the way the lights glimmered in your eyes and the sun shined on your skin. How the curves of your body hugged the dress you chose, the supple skin on your chest peeking from the fabric, how your eyelashes batted in the light, the way your hair flowed in the light breeze. You were mesmerizing. And you were all his… Forever.

The shimmer of that diamond on your finger stoked it all for him. The whole drama that had led up to that Godforsaken proposal. It made him shudder to his core. But in the end, it settled your lives into one. You had all the strings attached, and now they were falling into the culmination of the union. And hopefully more in the future.

He stared into your eyes, hoping and wishing that you’d want more after the vows had been said. Wanting to give you everything and more to make you the happiest forever. He never had pegged himself to be a hopeless romantic, throwing more caution to the wind as he settled night after lonely night in his bachelor pad, which had now been renovated to meet your needs on top of his.

He loved his life now. Never wanting any of it to change for the worse, and he was determined to make that perfect, even if everything else wasn’t.

“You okay honey?” gripping his free hand and rubbing the palm as you kept sipping your wine, “where’d you go?” your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you watched him snap out of his thoughts.

“Just lookin’,” He smiled, his dimples coming out to make your heart melt as he put both hands to clasp yours, bringing them to his lips to kiss the soft skin.

“Why are you so perfect?” you cooed, his smile lighting up the entire outdoors seemingly as his teeth showed.

“I’m not at all,” he laughed, rubbing your skin in his to warm your hand up from the sun setting chill.

You huffed a laugh, putting your free hand under your chin while you cocked your head to the side, melting at his preciousness.

He was your perfect match. The other half of your soul. The light and darkness, the Alpha to your Omega. And he was perfect… To you.

“You are,” whispering just above a breath, “you’re everything,” the tears threatening to spill as you reveled in the adoration from him.

“You’re my everything,” his voice matching yours as he leaned over the table, meeting your lips with his in the slightest of kisses, only to be broken by the faint whimper of Waddles.

“I think we need to get them home, honey,” he chuckled, looking at the exhausted pumpkins pawing at his boots.

“Agreed,” taking a huge swig while he gestured to the waiter for the bill.

____________

Flip had insisted on bringing every bag in, putting the contents away just how you liked them, taking the dogs out to go potty, and putting them in bed for the night, so you could get ready to relax. You tried to convince him that you could and were capable of helping, to no avail as his sternness only made it into a fight you knew you’d never win.

So you trudged upstairs, getting yourself all pampered for bed, wearing a silk slip, and putting your hair up in a messy bun while you lotioned yourself up for the evening.

You took down the sheets, the cotton feeling so soft and serene as you flipped on the salt lamp in the corner of the bedroom, making the ambiance calm and collected while you flipped some quiet music on to set the mood.

Time Of The Season softly wafted from the record player, settling you into the welcoming bed with your book while you waited for your man to slide in for the night.

You heard his heavy footsteps come up from the living room, revealing his exhausted frame as he sighed upon seeing you all ready for him.

“Are they okay?” putting your book down on your lap as you pat the side of the bed for him to lay on.

“Just fine honey,” he grunted, pulling his boots off and unbuttoning his flannel to reveal his rippling pectorals in the soft light of the bedroom.

“That’s pretty,” he huffed, seeing the slitted silky dress you’d chosen and how it contrasted with the white sheets, “I mean you look pretty in anything, but that’s…” he trailed off seeing you push your legs up and outward to reveal your bare cunt to his eyes.

“What now honey?” you moaned, snaking a finger to open up the dress more and play with your pussy in front of him.

He immediately got down to the foot of the bed, moving his head to meet within inches of your fingers, marveling at the delicate touches you made on your lips.

“So… Pretty,” eyes growing wide as he watched your hole suck your fingers, begging to be fucked by him.

“I’m so wet for you, cowboy,” shoving three fingers in as far as they could go, feeling his hot breath ghosting your thighs while he sucked hickeys on them.

“I bet those fingers aren’t big enough for you, huh, butterfly,” squeezing a huge bruise on your left inner leg, the feeling making your head fall back as he did so.

“Not even close,” you gasped, feeling his thick hand pull yours from its spot, your cunt grasping at nothing as he marveled at your hole.

“Didn’t think so,” smirking as he sucked your digits dry, moaning at the taste of you.

“Daddy will take care of you, honey,” he cooed, blowing some air on your aching clit to watch your legs shudder from the breeze.

“I’m gonna suck this cunt until your cryin’,” spreading your folds open as he latched his vacuum suction on your bud, the cry you let out reverberating on the walls of the room as your hand found the back of his head, shoving his face further into your supple cunt.

“Mhmm,” he moaned, the vibration from his throat causing you to audibly scream as he assaulted your pussy. His other hand finding your hole as it sucked two fingers in deliciously, the squelch of your cunt making his dick harder and harder as he kept going.

“P-Phil!” literally crying as he ate you out like the animal he was, the feral noises under your slip sending you in hoards of pleasure and euphoria as he sucked your clit fervently.

Your thighs twitched and shook as he kept going and going, the grip on his head tightening as he felt your walls close in on his fingers in the best way. The damn broke then, letting out a stream of cum from your cunt as you cried endlessly on his movements.

“P-Phil holy s-shi-!” his suction breaking to open his mouth to the stream of spend that coated his face so beautifully.

“I fuckin’ told ya I’d make ya cry,” he growled, pulling himself up to meet your face, “you taste so goddamn delicious,” kissing you so hard the spend dribbled down your throat too, sending you into another stimulated haze as he rubbed his tip with your gaping entrance.

“You want daddy to fuck you?” lining himself up to watch you beg for his cock, your pretty moans and eyes signaling how badly you wanted him inside you.

“O-oh f-fuck,” your mouth falling open again as he buried himself in your sweet pussy, the warm feeling coating his cock in the best way.

“God d-dammit h-honey,” he managed to grit out, speeding up his movements after he had hooked your legs to meet his chest, pushing them towards you in a pretzeled fashion as his large frame loomed over your sweat-stained bodies.

“You’re s-so fuckin’,” he strained, the muscles in his neck along with their veins protruding in the sexiest way as he shoved himself into your guts more and more.

“Use y-your words c-cowboy,” you managed to choke out, feeling your second release creep up the more he pounded into your open womb.

“T-tell me what you w-want,” grabbing his inky locks that had since become soaked, his muscles taut as he plummeted further into you, your bodies becoming one as he breathed heavily and grunted with every stroke.

“G-god I l-love you Y/N,” he said, making searing eye contact as he watched your gorgeous face conjure in absolute pleasure underneath him. He could live in this moment forever. Get lost in your perfect screams and moans for him. The way you gripped his arms to pull him even further into you as he fucked your insides raw. He loved this. He loved you like this.

“I-I love y-you P-Phil,” you managed the words, feeling your release hit you like a freight train. The warmth of his cock gliding over your walls completely overwhelming your senses. The stars blinking behind your eyes as you melted into his body, your limbs releasing just enough for him to push your legs to meet the rest of your body and the mattress below.

“F-fuck,” he grunted out, feeling your body convulse under him, his grip above the bed frame tightening as he split you completely in half, your velvet cunt fluttering around him as he came closer and closer.

“I-I’m gonna fuck a b-baby into you h-honey,” the feral groan escaping his lips going straight to your cunt as you opened your eyes again. Your big mountain man, completely falling apart over you in a sweat-covered pile of muscle and brawn.

“Y-you want that?” egging him on as you pulled him closer, your foreheads touching as he came so close.

“Mhmm f-fuck yes,” he moaned, feeling you pulse around him, loving how he mewled for you, “I-I want you so f-full of me by this time n-next year I-I won’t be able to t-take my h-hands off you,” gritting his teeth so hard at this point.

You cunt fluttering as the sinking feeling in your lower stomach came from his words. The thought of being the way he imagined, full of him, making you want it so much more than you’d ever thought before.

“What are you waiting for daddy?” you moaned, feeling his dick harden even more as he came to the edge, “knock me the fuck up,” voice above a whisper as you stared into his eyes, seeing his release as he dumped his hot seed into your core.

“M-mother of G-God,” trying not to break eye contact as he filled you with him, the hot spend feeling so good as it coated your fertile walls to the brim.

He held you both there for a few moments, spurts of cum exiting his tip as he watched your gorgeous face smile back at him, petting him and egging his release on and on.

“Such a good daddy,” whispering to him while he caught his breath, kissing your hands as his dick softened in your pussy.

“I was serious,” he looked back at you, feeling him slip out of you in a gush of spend, only to be plugged by two fingers as he sat back on shins.

He grabbed a pillow, forcing it under your hips while his digits still were lodged in your cunt.

“You’re gonna be knocked up by next year,” the smile on your face a clear indication of how you felt about the premonition.

“I can’t wait,” a low chuckle leaving his chest as he removed his fingers, lowering himself over you to kiss your perfect lips, caressing your side, and then circling over your stomach to the point of it slightly tickling.

“I can’t either butterfly,” he whispered on your lips, kissing you again and again.

_______________________

SPOILER ALERT: SARA IS A WHORE AND THIS IS GONNA GET WORSE LMAO...

Taglist: @millenialcatlady, @maybe-your-left,@sacklerscumrag,@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather, @hopeamarsu, @historyandfandoms50, @themuseic, @iamasithprincess, @mariesackler, @sister-winter73, @daydreamsofren, @sanchosammy, @lesbiandriver, @ghoulian13, @caillea, @safarigirlsp, @roanniom, @zimmermansbrat

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(Please let me know if you would love to be added/removed from the list... Love you all and thank you for supporting my absolute trash!)

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip x you #flip x reader #kiss the sky #tw: somnophilia #tw: breeding kink #tw: daddy kink #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking #flip zimmerman x female reader #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman smut #adcu fanfiction #adcu community #adcu

[hoodoo12]

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 2/?

@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @mel-time @rainingpaint @heresathreebee @infptarius @turtlepated @sweetcat-666 @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe @genderless-cryptid @monsterlovinghours @strange-n-unbluusual @love-pony13-blog

Pate never did fall back asleep properly, but she was content to doze lightly in Beetlejuice’s arms for a few more hours. It wasn’t deep enough to dream, but in between snoozes she did her best to commit what she had seen in the nightmare to memory. The better to understand it, she hoped.

Even Lillian was of two minds as to whether or not the dreams meant anything at all but Pate couldn’t shake the notion that they meant something important. Maybe they were warnings. Her first thought was Rigel, trying to claw his way back into their lives. Just the thought was enough to make her shudder and Beetlejuice’s arms tightened around her, sensing her unease.

They spent the weekend in, lazing together on the couch and rewatching The Mandalorian. Pate felt bad that she was really too tired these days to take him out to do anything, but he never seemed to mind. She recorded her dreams in the journal to take to Lillian’s for the next session, slept fitfully Saturday and Sunday night, and all too soon it was Monday again.

Showering woke her up a bit more, chasing away the last of the feelings of dread from her nightmares and she readied herself for work. As he usually did, Beej saw her off at the door. Pate wound her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his in a lingering kiss.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said, pecking him on the nose before departing.

⁂

Pate always seemed to get better rest closer to dawn. He hated that she had to then be woken just when she was comfortable; Mondays really did suck. Beetlejuice hoisted himself up on the sink in the bathroom while she showered, wishing he could join her under the spray like he’d done in Las Vegas, but she was already behind schedule and a distraction wasn’t going to be appreciated.

He stayed out of her way even though he followed her around through the apartment as she made to leave. Promising to be good but knowing there was no way for her to possibly think of every single thing that could be construed as “bad”, he pressed against her to steal some of her body heat and then watched her leave. He went to the front window to look down at her as she made it to her car, and blew a kiss when she saw him in the window. He watched till she was gone out of the parking lot.

Another day alone in the apartment. At least he had the freedom to smoke inside with Pate gone, so he lit a cigarette and stared forlornly at the empty room. Pate had suggested he take up a hobby to fill the time, but put her foot down when he believed raising a baby Sandworm would be a good idea.

“Whatever a “Sandworm” is,” she’d included at the end of the conversation.

She didn’t leave her dream journal behind; her mentor had told her to keep it with her so she could jot things down if they came to her, but Beej had read through it when she was dozing beside him. That wasn’t invading her privacy, not really, he justified, because she just left it right beside the bed--

--Lillian Borden.

He could go visit Lillian Borden and talk to her about Pate’s progress or lack thereof.

The thought sprung on him so quickly the cigarette fell out of his mouth. He crushed it into the carpet, vowing to himself he’d clean it up before Pate got back and saw it, and stepped into the ether to visit the antique shop Pate spent so much time in.

⁂

The store was closed, of course. It was early in the morning for the antique crowd. But Pate had mentioned the old woman lived above the store, so he simply spirited through the door. Good thing he wasn’t a vampire, he chuckled to himself.

Making his way through the aisles towards the staircase he could see, a few of the items he passed had some tendrils of energy that either moved towards him like he was a magnet, or away from him like they were repelled. All of them were wispy and easily avoided. On a wall hung a old, ratty taxidermied deer head that slowly turned to look at him, but he was pretty sure whatever that was wouldn’t be able to move any further. Its glass eyes lit with inner fire and if there was some way to make friends with that thing, it would make a very creepy Halloween decoration.

Beetlejuice made a mental note to talk to it later.

Reaching the stairs, there was a slight resistance as he put his foot on the first step. Bulling his way through it, it popped like he’d broken bubblewrap and he skipped the rest of the way up. If it was a ward, there was no sense in knocking on the door at the top, so he simply opened it and went inside.

There, he found a small, clean apartment. Plants surrounded the windows, and old tin type photographs and decorative mirrors were hung on the walls. Someone was in the kitchen.

Straightening his jacket and running a hand through his hair--which did nothing to tame it--Beetlejuice walked to the door separating the living space from the kitchen and found the older woman standing at her stove, stirring something in a pot. A tea kettle was also on, with steam rising from the spout. She was muttering something half under her breath.

“Hi!” he said, without preamble. “You’re Lillian Borden, right? Pate’s been coming to see you, and I want to talk.”

He could never remember that people needed some warning when he appeared and started talking. Typically he was met with screams.

This woman didn’t scream. She turned towards him, eyes narrowed, with a knife in her hand he hadn’t noticed on her far side. There was more of that strange repellent energy wafting from the knife, and he held his hands up even though his natural instinct was to meet force with force.

“I just want to talk, lady--”

She didn’t look like she wanted to talk, really.

⁂

In all her years, Lillian had never expected to find herself with a pupil.

But then this young woman had come into her shop one day, and it was like getting hit in the chest with a sledgehammer when she got closer. Lillian had met others in her time with… gifts, but none like this girl. Whatever she had, it was potent, close to the surface, and raw as wet clay just waiting to be shaped. She must have sensed something about Lillian because in no time she was showing up regularly, asking for Lillian to teach her, to show her how to handle this power inside her.

At first Lillian had been reluctant to go poking around something so volatile, but eventually she conceded that the younger woman was in need of guidance. What with the strange, terrible dreams that disturbed her sleep and the almost miasmic aura that seemed to accompany her. It didn’t emanate from her, it just hung around her like a cloud of smoke from a cigarette. There was something haunting her, something Lillian urged her to purge as quickly as possible.

For whatever reason, Lillian could tell that Pate hadn’t done it, that she actively lied about it when asked. Why she should want some dark spectral energy floating around her all the time was beyond Lillian’s ability to comprehend, but she felt sure that it had something to do with the girl’s nightmares, or even her abilities themselves.

It was Monday, not quite time to open up the shop, so she muddled about in the kitchen. Lillian didn’t consider herself a witch or a Wiccan or any such thing, but there were certain practices that she had found beneficial in her particular way of life. The tea was almost ready to come off the stove, the talismanic elixir she’d been preparing nearly finished when she felt it: the ward on her stairs dissipated like a puff of breath on a frigid day.

She paused momentarily in what she was doing, opening the drawer by the stove and withdrawing a black-handled athame from it’s sheath, keeping it concealed by her body as she continued to putter around the stove, mumbling a protective charm against whatever was entering her apartment.

He greeted her genially enough, mentioning Pate by name and Lillian knew at once that who or whatever this garishly bedecked man with his green hair and striped suit and mischievous aura was, it was the entity she sensed around her student.

Turning toward him, gripping the athame tightly and feeling the thrum of energy in the instrument, Lillian maintained her cool despite the intrusion.

“Don’t imagine you and I would have much to talk about,” she said not impolitely.

⁂

“Well, Pate’s a common denominator,” Beej replied snappishly, despite trying to keep his voice in more the pleasant range. He wasn’t exactly sure what his hair was doing color-wise at the moment; that knife in her hand put him on edge.

He moved towards her to help her understand his sincerity about the situation, although he dispensed with pleasantries.

“I watch what’s been happening to her. I see the nightmares she has. She came to you for help and it isn’t getting any better, so you and me, we’re gonna talk--”

⁂

The tea kettle’s shrill whistle sounded behind her as the thing that looked like a man but wasn’t a man stepped closer. Without pausing another moment Lillian pointed the athame at his chest and traced a sigil in the air, murmuring in rapid Latin as she repeated the movements of the consecrated instrument again and again.

She reached down within herself, feeling for the well of power that resided inside and tapped into it, pouring her will and intent into the drawing of the sigil and the recitation of the incantation. He froze in place as if his shoes were stuck to the scuffed hardwood floor, looking first down at his own feet and then back up at her as she continued to chant and trace with the athame. His form began to blur and then to disintegrate around the edges, spreading inward as a stiff breeze from nowhere blew his coat and tie and hair around until they were no more.

Lillian didn’t relax even when she was once again alone in the kitchen, nothing remaining of the entity that had stood before her. Keeping a tight hold on the athame, she strode slowly but purposefully towards the decorative mirrors hanging on her living room wall. Inside the glass she saw, not her own reflection, but the man who had broken her ward and entered her home uninvited.

After verifying that her temporal displacement had succeeded, only then did she breathe a sigh of relief.

“There,” she said in a grim, satisfied tone. “That ought to hold you. And keep you away from that girl.”

The figure in the glass raised both fists, hammering against the surface of the mirror but made no sound. Turning away, Lillian returned to her kitchen and took the kettle off the stove.

⁂

Coming at him with that dark-handled knife wasn’t good. Beetlejuice bit off his own sentence and raised his hands to show he was no threat, but whatever this old lady was doing he felt a combination of bound and dizzy. She was going to stab him, and he most definitely did not want that to happen; instinctively he knew that blade meant bad news.

But she didn’t stab him, only the air in an intricate design. Her Latin was whispered and hurried, and he only caught some of it, “Entrapment . . . reflection . . .” as an unearthly breeze caught him. Glancing at his feet, they seemed to fly away as if dust on the wind. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t feel like anything, but he didn’t like it and opened his mouth to protest, to say they got off on the wrong foot. Before any words could leave his mouth he was no longer in her kitchen.

Now he was looking out at her living room from an odd angle. He didn’t know what had happened, and defensively black tentacles erupted around him, but there was nothing here to fight against. Just a white endless plain, except for the window he was looking out of. Beetlejuice willed his tentacles away.

A movement in his periphery caught his eye and he leaned forward to see it better. His forehead hit something. Brow furrowed, he raised his hands and they were stopped by something unseen as well.

Lillian came into full view in front of him, peering at him like a bug under a magnifying glass. When she stepped closer, what he could see of her changed--only her shoulders and head were visible. He tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing.

He had no problem hearing her and her proclamation that he’d be ‘held’, and kept away from Pate.

Beetlejuice pounded on the glass, shouting that there was a mistake, that she better let him out, he was going to rain terror down on her the likes of which she’d never imagined--

Lillian smiled sweetly and walked away, back out of his range of vision. The kettle stopped whistling.

The whole thing had only taken three minutes, tops.

⁂

It took him some time to figure out where she’d imprisoned him. He hadn’t paid much attention to her living room since he had immediately heard her in the kitchen, but after some thought--because what else was there to do in an endless white space of nothingness?--and her returning, giving him a smile, and sitting down to watch TV (it was some Hallmark movie that was possibly more torturous than being wherever he was), he realized he could only see the windows opposite the wall that separated the kitchen and living room. That, and where she was sitting he could only see the top of Lillian’s head.

She’d put him in one of her mirrors.

“FUCK,” Beej shrieked into the void. There was no echo, which was creepy.

This old woman was going to keep him down in her antique store of horrors! He wondered how many of the presences he felt walking through the first floor of the place were people like him--misunderstood, just wanting to talk, and she was like some self-appointed Pinkerton agent, cleaning up potential problems.

Beetlejuice slammed the back of his head, hard, on the glass. Lillian didn’t react. He let the tentacles come out again, and used their strength to attack it. Nothing. Brute force wasn’t the way out. Cleverness was.

If he sat with his back below the glass, he was fairly sure he was unseen. Maybe she had some fancy-schmancy wards on the glass, but maybe there was another way out. He let his tentacles explore the space. There wasn’t much, just endless white. There was no way for him to call for help. No way to let Pate know what had happened. He’d be stuck here for an undetermined amount of time--

--a tentacle found a seam.

Not a seam per se, but some break. Crack. He didn’t know what, because it was white too. Scooting over to it, Beetlejuice couldn’t even see it, but he could feel it beneath his fingertips. He dug a nail under it, not caring that it became ragged, only wanting to widen it and see what might be beyond. When it was more than just a crack, a tentacle snaked in and broke it open more. Pieces fell away like plaster, and shoving his face against the hole he could see another window.

Another mirror!

Tenaciously, Beetlejuice tore apart the crack until he could squeeze through. He had no idea how much a maze it might be, with nothing to guide him. He’d just keep going until he could find Pate’s bathroom mirror, as long as it took.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Ties that bind

[midnightmoonkiss]

The Lure Of Nightfall [2]

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: After accidentally flying in on your best friend jerkin his meat to the thought of you, things get out of hand, and you’re thrown into a weekly routine.

WARNINGS!: Voyeurism, Masturbation

Category: Smut, Smut, Pure Smut.

Word Count: 8.7k+

A/N: You all wanted this! >.< I hope I delivered~

Just To Clarify:

This is a continuation!

panties are a bitch.

Part One

Tag List:  @zylith-imagines-and-fics @birds-have-teeth @my-bnha-things.

The morning after carried on just as any Sunday would have.

Izuku woke up refreshed and ready to start his daily work out.

The strange bird encounter completely slipped his mind as he ran laps, pushing his legs to run faster and faster with each completed circle.

He was always one to push his limits, always one to ignore the burning in his calves and thighs as his legs became a blur of motion beneath him.

All he could think about was how many laps he had run, and how many more he had to go.

You could only ever push yourself so far. He learned that lesson the hard way not too long ago when he didnt stop running until his legs gave out and a student had to come and get him.

His legs were practically dead weight for the following few hours.

Sighing at the memory, he went on, arm coming up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

It was 9:00AM when he finally finished his workout routine, a little later than he was used to. But who could blame him? He did go to bed later than his schedule recommended, after all.

But..

That wasn’t..

His fault..

He frantically shook his head, scarred palms slapping his redding cheeks as what got him so riled up in the first place flickered through his mind.

 He did not need to have such thoughts at this moment.

Heading back to his dorm, he grabbed his shampoo and body wash, as well as a fresh change of clothes before skipping down the steps. He felt gross and sticky with sweat, and he couldn’t wait to feel the rush of water against his skin.

Oh!No one’s here! 

He thought happily as he practically skipped into the bathroom, putting his clothes in the locker beside the shower stall he chose.

He hopped into the shower, not bothering to turn the heat on as cold showers always seemed to snap him out of any dirty thoughts. Plus, not only did they help make someone more alert after an intense workout, the cool water always left a heated body feeling much better.

Once done, he quickly dried off and changed, making his way to the sinks to brush and fully dry his thick, damp hair.

Such fluffy hair regrettably required a stay-in conditioner, or else it would look simply dreadful - frizzy hair galore. No one, especially him, wants that. Though it took away that masculine scent of body wash guys apparently are supposed to thrive in, it did make him smell pretty sweet. It all fit together perfectly in a way. Sugar n’ spice made everything nice, right?

As he was spraying the stay-in conditioner, running a wooden comb through the damp, curly green locks, he let his mind wander.

He forgot something, didn’t he?

It felt like he did.

He chewed his pouty bottom lip, eyes narrowing as he let his arms run on autopilot so his thoughts could drift.

He wasn’t usually so forgetful, so what on Earth was he forgetting?

Something the other day, surely.

He didn’t have anything planned today.

Just relax and enjoy life for a second. They didn’t get breaks often, and last Sunday he was at the mall all day with you and his friend group.

You..

What about you?

He felt like you were the key to his confusion and forgetfulness, but why?

He hadn’t had an interaction with you yesterday that would require his immediate attention, so-

Wait.

His movements stopped as he stared wide-eyed at his reflection in the mirror.

Most birds sleep at night, that was common knowledge.

So why the hell was there one on his balcony so late last night.

He dropped his comb, wood clanging loudly onto the floor, the noise echoing around his suddenly deaf ears.

Birds don’t nuzzle fingers.

Birds fly away when a human approaches.

That wasn’t any ordinary bird.

That wasn’t a bird at all, was it?

No.

There was only one person who could turn into a bird..

And that person was..

You.

Oh god.. Oh god, no!

Izuku collapses to his knees, arms wrapping securely around his head as he blushes and whines like a mad man.

You saw him! You had to have seen him!

He was! 

He was naked-!

You didn’t… you didn’t see and hear him in the act, right!?

He shakily inhaled, shameful tears blurring his vision.

You heard him moan out your name, didnt you!

You must hate him now! Think he’s disgusting..

What type of person masturbates to their best friend!

But he couldn’t help it!

He’s been in love with you for so long..

He knew his dreams would never come to fruition, that you would never like him as much as he liked you, so he took to his mind to live out a life he’s always wanted.

One his body so desperately craves.

It was so humiliating!

How could he face you..?

Fat tears streamed down his face, heart breaking at the thought of you never speaking to him again. His mind fled to a dark place, completely ignoring the fact that the bird had been so gentle with him and seemingly uncaring.

So, imagine his surprise when you happily greeted him at one of the tables as he walked out of the bathroom for water.

Upon seeing his tear stained face, worry quickly consumed you, face contorting as you jumped up and rushed over to him.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong, ‘Zuku? You were crying?”

You bombarded him with questions, hands coming up to delicately cradle his burning face between them.

His head felt fuzzy as he stared into your (E/C) eyes glimmering with concern.

A whimper built up in the back of his throat, fearful that you’d still leave him.

But why were you acting like last night never happened? That you didnt watch him defile your name?

Well, to be honest, you currently clung onto the hope that he never realized it was you. He wasn’t acting angry or upset like you’d expect him to if he did find out, so it was obvious you were in the clear. 

Except, you weren’t. And he did know.

He just didn’t know why, why you were there or why you watched him. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel as creeped out about as he probably should have, it was like there was a small bell of honor ringing in his chest.

All in all, he figured you wanted to hang out, that’s why you were there in the first place.

But he wanted to know why you watched him - why you didn’t leave the moment you no-doubt saw him pleasuring himself.

God, he felt stupid.

He should have paid more attention to the time he chose, you always came to his dorm around that time during the weekend!

He wanted to facepalm, hide his ashamed face beneath his palms.

But for now, he’d soak in the feeling of your soft hands holding his face, thumbs brushing away stray tears.

You were trying to hide it. Hide the fact that you saw him. He’d indulge you, pretend he didn’t know anything

“Y-Yeah! I’m alright..!”

He smiled.

And so the show began.

He never stopped hanging out with you, and the shame soon melted away into desire as the days trudged on.

He didnt know why, but the thought of you watching him do something so intimate.. It thrilled him to his very core, sent tingles down his spine and left him breathless for a moment or two.

It actually gave him quite a few boners in class, much to his embarrassment. Lord, did his mind wander too much. He was just a hormonal teenage boy, after all.

Funnily enough, he could feel that the majority of the time you spent around each other, your stare was directed towards him. It was as if he was your center of attention throughout most classes these days, the apple of your mesmerizing eyes, and it felt amazing.

Like.. like he was the only thing you cared about. Only thing you needed.

He loved that feeling.

He wanted more.

He wanted you to, in a way, need him as much as he needed you.

He wanted it to happen again, wanted to know what it would feel like if he was actually aware of it occurring rather than only finding out about it the next day when his senses came back.

So, he decided he’d try touching himself every Saturday at the same time, since that is when you last showed up, leaving his window and curtains open just so you could, theoretically, get a good view.

He knew how wrong it was, wanting his best friend to watch him do something so sinful at nightfall whilst holding innocent conversations during the daylight.

He was too horny for his own good. Could you blame him?

The first attempt was unsuccessful, and he never did feel your piercing gaze on his trembling body as he worked himself to completion.

It was disappointing, but he had hope, and an unexpected outlet for his sexual frustrations.

Meanwhile, you were going crazy.

It felt like you were holding onto a dirty little secret, one Izuku had absolutely no idea about.

Everyday you had to force yourself to not let the image of him writhing sinfully around on his sheets float to the surface of your overactive mind.

You definitely did not need any soaked panties, especially considering you’d have to walk around all day like that.

It was truly a blessing in disguise.

Was it strange to say that in a way you got off on talking innocently to Izuku now?

Staring into his beautiful green eyes, talking about the math homework you forgot to do, all you could think about was how those eyes were glazed over with lust, pupils blown ridiculously wide as he came all over himself.

Such a messy boy.

Gah!

You aggressively shook your head in class, hands rubbing aggressively at your closed eyes to try and erase the image..

“(Y-Y/N)? Are y-you okay?” Izuku stuttered nervously, hands outstretched, ready to place them on your shoulders if you needed to be steadied.

You were simply talking, but suddenly you had such a violent reaction when he asked what answer you got for question three on the homework!

Had you not done it? Maybe you had had quite the trouble with it and didn’t want to remember the minutes wasted on chewing on your mechanical pencil as tears of frustration streamed down your face? He’d seen it occur before, It was a very weird and.. sad.. sight.

“Ah!” You yelped, ripping your hands from your face as you suddenly remembered where you were - you couldn’t just pull that sort of stunt in class, it’d make people think you were weirder than you already clearly are!

But that was just the start of it all.

You so desperately wanted to see him in that state again, wanted to hear your name slip from his spit-slicked raw lips in a wanton moan.

The fact that he was your best friend slowly started to fade from your mind, replaced by lustful desires. What’s shame? Never heard of that.

Who could hear anything over your moans anyway?

Night fell into a routine of your hands stuffed down your panties, fingers covered in your own slick rubbing roughly at your puffy clit as two of your fingers thrust in and out of yourself.

You constantly wondered just what that pretty boy imagined in that oh-so-obviously dirty mind of his as he pumped his cock.

Was he imagining you riding him, face smothered by your tits, mouth latched onto one of your perky buds, sucking the red flesh into his mouth as you bounced up and down on his long, painfully hard and throbbing cock?

Your breath caught in your throat at the image, fingers speeding up.

Or perhaps was he imagining pounding into your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his slim hips, fingers clawing red marks into his back so that he could show them off whilst changing into his gym clothes the next day in the locker room?

You squealed as you suddenly clenched down on your two digits, the coil wound tight in your stomach from all the dirty images whizzing past your head snapping unexpectedly, cumming all over your fingers. 

You laid there panting, eyes staring deliriously up at the star-covered ceiling.

You had to see him in the act again, no question about it.

It was unfortunate how you passed out from exhaustion Saturday before the time Izuku would ultimately begin going mad in his bed.

It was hard not to beat yourself up over it, especially since you now had to suffer through another week of not seeing his pretty face drenched in sweat, mouth wide open and tongue flopping out.

Grr!

More suffering for the both of you.

It was still so very funny how despite all of these lewd thoughts the both of you possessed for one another, you still got along just as well as before.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Honestly, it was a great relief to the both of you.

Originally, you had thought that since you saw him in that new light, you’d be unable to have a decent conversation with him, and he thought that you’d be too disgusted with him to ever even think about speaking to him.

Of course, that was bullshit.

He knew you purposely stayed there to watch him. 

That was part of the reason he wanted it to happen again.

He was clinging onto the hope that you liked him back, and that’s why it seemed as if you ignored the whole thing.

No, wait. He didnt want it to happen again… he needed it to happen again. Not just to satisfy him, but to just see if it wasn’t a mistake. A clarification. Something he could cling to in his mind. Something that told him there was an even bigger chance that you might miraculously like some gross nerd like him back.

He was still insecure, even after all the body changes he has gone through.

The scars didnt help much, either.

He could look at his body and feel proud of how much stronger he was, but those rough scars that would permanently taint his skin always left him feeling a bit shy.

He openly showed them, of course, not afraid considering they were marks of his growth and a reminder that he was able to save someone, but they didnt exactly feel nice.

His skin was once silky smooth all over, but now it wasnt, and it would never be the same again.

You knew him without the scars for the longest, but that also meant you knew the whimpy Deku, and not the Hero Deku he was becoming.

So many thoughts were constantly racing around in his mind, it was hard to keep track of them at times.

He blocked out the thoughts with a heavy heart, going back to his previous activity.

And of course, for you, well, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t visit him in your bird form during the night on weekdays, curious to see if, by chance, he was up - which he often wasn’t, and if he was sinning.

To no avail, of course.

It was hard to place if you were missing it by some misfortune, or if he just wasn’t doing it. So Saturday was your best guess. You saw him do it that day, so you figured from the beginning you’d see him to it again on all Saturdays. That’s what you hoped, anyway.

The next Saturday, though, you were proven correct.

The scene was similar to the one from last time, you, perched on the railing, sliding glass door open, curtains pushed to the side, and Izuku moaning like a slut on his bed covers.

Your feathers ruffled up in excitement, it looked as if he just came from the shower, towel discarded on the floor.

Things were going to be much different this time, unknown to you, of course.

Because this time, Izuku knew you were there.

He knew you were watching him.

And he knew it was on purpose because earlier that evening you stopped by to play video games before ‘retiring’ for the night.

Naughty girl, did you expect him to believe that when he’s been able to see through your lies ever since childhood?

He could feel your piercing gaze, and it thrilled him, making his cock slathered in lube he recently purchased twitch against his toned stomach.

Currently, he was rubbing up and down his twitching thighs, trying to calm himself down since, in his excitement at hearing you drop by, he almost came. 

You eagerly watched as he did so, black eyes following his beautiful hand movements.

His thighs were so, so glorious.

Was it a bad thing to want to be trapped between them whilst you sucked his pretty dick?

To have them suffocate you was a dream. You’d give just about anything for them to squeeze your head as he came closer and closer to unraveling.

His legs were always nice, but ever since he began using them to smash incredibly large and sturdy objects, your fixation with them grew.

Hell, who were you kidding? You loved every aspect of that boy.

You wanted to lather his perfect body in searing kisses, whispering praises under every breath you took.

Your toes curled, clinging onto the raining as you leaned forward eagerly, watching as his hands traced down his inner thighs, just to drag across the underside of his dick.

He gasped once his fingers ran over his slit, head shoving itself into his pillow.

He wanted to put on a good show for you, gauge your reaction from the corner of his half-lidded eyes.

Surely you’d be too transfixed by his lower half to notice dark green eyes gazing over at you.

And he was right.

Because you couldn’t tear your attention away from his crotch, his hips lifting off the bed as he slowly thrusted into the tunnel he made with his hand.

It was as if he was teasing himself by going slow, his whines for more being a clear give away, that and the twitch of his hips as he sought a faster pace but held himself back.

“A-ahh~ (Y/N).. S-so good.. To me..”

How could he not imagine his hands as your own?

Yours were so small, too.. Could they even fully wrap around his thick length? He was all too eager to find out, but that’d have to be for a later date. Hopefully.

As time flew by, his impatience grew.

He wanted to put a good show on for you, truly, he did! But he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to cum oh-so badly.

To have that knot that was already building up in his system before you flew in to finally burst.

Sobs tore from his throat as he finally gave in, aching cock slamming into his fist with a wet squelch as his hand squeezed and twisted down on his length.

He didn’t last long, soon releasing his seed all over himself once again with a shrill cry, body arching up beautifully off the bed.

Whilst regaining his breath, he shakily looked over at you, joy sparking in his system to see you leaning forward as if you were enraptured by him.

It felt so good.

This occured more often than either of you would like to admit, but yet, there was no complaints.

Like before, life carried on normally in the light of day, but Saturday night? Showtime.

It was always something new, much to your enjoyment. 

One night, which just so happened to be one where a new moon hung high in the inky black sky freckled with stars, you had the pleasure of witnessing him fuck a pillow. 

So sweet. A true jackpot. 

Since the tranquil, silvery beams of moonlight were absent on this particular evening, an Allmight night light of sorts illuminated the room in a yellow glow. It was brighter than the times before, ultimately giving you a better look at just what he was doing. 

That wasn’t all, though.

Before, with the pale light of the moon, he was always submerged in a sinful atmosphere.

But now, you see, he looked so very soft in this light. It showered his perfectly toned, freckled and sweaty body in such a warm glow. It radiated innocence, despite his downright dirty acts of self-care.

His face was pressed to the side of the mattress, drool dripping past his parted lips as he gasped and moaned, cheeks burning red, eyes closed and brows arched upward as he chased that sweet, sweet release he so anticipated. His hips rutted into the soft pillow like a bunny in heat. Scarred hands had a death grip on it, forcing it down on his cock to provide an addicting combination of pressure and pleasure. Though you couldn’t quite see his flushed dick in action, his adorable face and moans made up for it. 

Was it too bold of you to say he was imagining the pillow was you? 

The way your name rolled off his tongue certainly would lead to that blissful assumption.

Another night you had gotten there early.

It was a particularly breezy night, the wind making his curtains dance and hair sway slightly. It was still hard to believe he liked having his sliding-glass door open. Did he like the fresh air when he was left gasping from his ministrations? Or did he thrive on the possibility that someone could hear him cry out? 

How alluring that thought was.

But, how foolish of you to assume you were being sneaky.

To your luck, getting there early meant you got to see him set up the act, anticipate just what he was about to do. Predictions flooded your mind as you watched him with a tilted head as he poured lube onto his shaky fingers.

Whatever he was about to do, he seemed nervous. A first time thing, perhaps? Or was he shaking with desire?

You’d later come to realize you never wanted to be in front of this man more than that night.

Because, to your utmost delight, that was the night you witnessed him finger himself for no-doubt the first time.

He was cautious and tense, you could easily tell from so far away. You couldn’t see what he was doing exactly, but it wasn’t too hard to put pieces of a puzzle together. 

In the beginning, he was trying to ease himself into it, one hand languidly stroking his erection, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat, whilst the other seemed to tease at his opening.

He bit his bottom lip the moment he decided it was time to quit shitting around, thighs splaying wide open once again for better access - and to you, a better view. His eyes slipped closed as he tried to focus on what he was doing, momentarily stopping the strokes on his cock so his attention would be on the feeling of a single digit slipping in and out of his virgin hole. He stayed tensed for a while, obviously trying to adjust. It wasnt until a few minutes later that he started to get really into it, slipping in another finger as his hips started to rock to the slow beat set.

His weeping dick was given attention again not long after that, hips wiggling and high-pitched cries of ecstasy tears from his throat at the two hands working in unison.

You couldn’t help but hop from one foot to the other that night as you eagerly drank in the sight.

“A-ahh! O-h oh god! (Y-Y/N)! F-faster- oh! Ple-ase f-fahh! Uhn! Ha-ah- ah- ah!”

Were you fucking him in this fantasy? A strap on, maybe? You wouldnt oppose doing so, he’s so cute begging like this. Begging for a plastic cock to pound into his tight ass with each whine, whimper, and moan.

He finished quite quickly, fingers probably finally finding that sweet spot deep inside of him. His eyes shot open, going cross as he practically screamed into the night.

And most recently, you witnessed him cum so hard he passed out for a few moments.

And you knew exactly why.

Because earlier that day, your boredom once again got the best of you, and you couldnt help but notice Izuku was lost in his thoughts during a break period. So, being the cheeky shit you were, you waltzed on over to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear “Hey.” 

It was funny how he had to slap a hand over his mouth, obviously hiding a whine. You knew your voice had an effect on him, especially when it was lowered an octave. Pair that with your hot breath fanning over his overly sensitive ear? The man was pudding. 

“(Y-Y/N)! I-I told you to stop doing that..!” He blushed, eyes squeezing shut to avoid your smirking face.

But that wasn’t all, no. You sat in his lap after that. He almost died, face a cherry red as his hands were held up, not sure where to put them.

It was honestly a rare occasion, for Iida was out with Momo for class president and vice president duties. You had to take advantage of that.

“What? I don’t want to stand this whole time!” Came your pouty response, and he most definitely couldn’t refuse those puppy-dog eyes you used on him.

To his horror, you wiggled in your fleshy seat, trying to get ‘comfortable’ whilst pretending you had no idea what you were doing to him. You knew damn well what it was you were doing, you were grinding your ass on his crotch - just for an agonizing moment.

It was hard to get him to form a sentence that wasn’t broken with stutters the whole time you sat atop his lap. He was so cute, all blushy like that. A little strawberry.

The second Iida and Momo came back from their duties, you jumped off his lap, startling him once again. To your ‘misfortune,’ you dropped the pencil which was tucked into your shirt pocket. So, you promptly bent down to get it, giving the perverted Izuku behind you a glorious view of your round ass covered by a pair of lacy white panties.

It was a wonder how he didn’t pass out as you expected him to, honestly.

You never heard him cry out your name as much as you did that very night.

Who knew such a shy and bashful boy could be so.. Lewd?

It was a major turn on, you could only imagine what it would be like to be there with him.

Oh, how glorious that would be.

To stare into his eyes blown wide with lust and glazed over with desire, knowing full well you were the true reason behind it - and not just his hands.

You wanted to..

You wanted to do so many things to and with him.

But you couldn’t.

Because at the end of the day, you were still only best friends.

He may call your name in the dead of night, he may beg for you in his dreams, but that doesn’t make you more than what you were when the sun rises yet again over the grassy hill coated in morning dew.

Just friends.

Friends until actions occur that change the definition of the word.

‘Friends’ brought a bitter taste to your tongue when it came to describing Izuku. You wanted to be more than just…. ‘Friends.’

But that was selfish of you.

You couldnt always get what you wanted, even if both parties want the exact same thing.

You could never live with yourself if you forced yourself onto him when he wasn’t ready to accept it. You knew very well how easily overwhelmed he could get. You worried that if.. your Saturday night activities got around to him, that he’d never want anything to do with you again. You were playing a dangerous game.

It was a hard concept to grasp, really.

But little did you know, he would be perfectly okay with it. More than okay, actually.

In fact, he craved it so, so much. With each Saturday that came, with every show he put on for you, he so desperately wished you’d revert back to your human form and come join him on his messy bed. He wanted to feel your soft skin brush against his overheated body. He wanted that intimacy.

He knew you wanted it too, he’s seen you almost fly right on into his room with particular moments.

He loved being watched by you, gaining validation every week by your intense, infatuated gaze, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. It was driving him absolutely insane. He noticed himself becoming more brash and reckless during training, his frustration taking over his senses and causing absolute mayhem. 

In the beginning, speaking to you outside of these downright shameful acts was exhilarating, but now it was simply infuriating. How could you act like nothing was happening? How could you stay so innocent whilst he was out here losing his marbles?

The rubber band holding his sanity together was stretched too thin, he had no doubt that it would snap any day now and his carnal desires will be let loose.

Such a risky thing he had willingly got himself into.

But that band snapped much sooner than he predicted, and there was no going back after that.

It’s been nearly two months since this whole act started.

It’s gotten progressively hotter outside, it was almost as if the sun itself had something personal against anyone and everyone who walked in it’s brilliant light.

The training has gotten harder thanks to the sweltering heat. Primetime to exercise until you feel like throwing up, yeah?

They were supposed to progress on their workouts throughout the year, but damn did this heat wave come at an unconventional time. Poor Tokoyami almost had a heat stroke.

The intensity of the workouts was making everyone antsy. The weekdays were hell on Earth, so the weekends became an even bigger godsend to the poor hero students working to achieve their dreams.

That being said, what better way to distress than too..?

This week was particularly stressful, and after the hell Izuku and his fellow classmates were put through, he craved that certain destresser he’s been hooked on for far too long.

It was unfortunate that he cracked a bit earlier than his scheduled 11 PM rub out, making it only to 10:41 PM before his dirty thoughts overtook his being and made his dick twitch to life in his shorts. He wanted to wait, but he became increasingly uncomfortable, hips shimmying, trying to find a comfortable position to wait around in.

After promptly giving up, he leaned back on his bed, tugging his shorts off and letting his eyes slip shut as he palmed himself through his boxers.

Things always felt better for the green-eyed boy if he took it slow, working himself up to the point of desperation.

And that’s what he did.

He knew you wouldnt be there for a while, he knew his heart wouldnt be pumping like it always did when you showed up, so he fell back onto Plan B, fully emerging himself in a fantasy.

He hadn’t done that since you first showed up. A trip on memory lane.

But now he had a chance.

Though he had to admit, he’d much prefer it if you were there..

In his mind, he wasn’t in some silly dorm.

He was a pro-hero living in a large apartment with pristine windows that reflected the night lights of the mesmerizing city below like lanterns in the sky. The interior lights were off, the room cast in a soft orange glow by a gentle flame flickering in the sandstone fireplace situated in front of the satin burgundy couch he sat upon. Soft moans filled the atmosphere, paired with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the complex.

You were in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you hung on for dear life. Your nails gave him an addicting sting as they dug into freckled skin, his name escaping your parted lips like a prayer, moans much louder than his own accompanying the pleas. He was in heaven, surely, for how else could there be such a beautiful angel in his lap?

You were glowing, cheeks blazing a deep maroon color, the light of the fire behind you encasing you in a soft, golden gleam.

A heavy breath blew out Izuku’s nose, closed eyes scrunching as he finally decided to rip his boxers off. His rough hand immediately wrapped itself around his cock, hissing in pleasure and thanking the heavens just this once for being such a heavy pre producer - he was far too enraptured by this fantasy to even think about trying to get his trusty bottle of lube.

Avoiding the flushed head, his hand squeezed and twisted it’s way up and down his slicked up shaft, hiding the wet noises with his pathetic whines.

He dived back into his mind.

You were kissing him fervently, tongues dancing in hot caverns as your noises of pure pleasure molded together. Though you were on top, you were far from having control. Izuku’s hands squeezed your hips in a death grip, bouncing you on his throbbing member, green sparks illuminating his body as to ensure a delicious yet inhuman pace. 

He could feel you. He swore he could, even from on this bed, he could feel you. You were so warm, and so, so very tight. 

He couldn’t handle it.

No.

No.

He needed more.

He whined desperately on his bed, back arching as he chased his fantasy but soon lost it as the familiar fluttering of small wings blocked out all other sounds.

He gasped, trying to catch the breath that seemed to constantly slip past him. He was too worked up.

He was too needy. He was aching, body shaking with anticipation and eagerness.

He craved you like a man craved water after stumbling through a burning hot desert all day.

You were so close to him, he could reach out and swear he could feel your feathers beneath his fingertips.

He was past the point of no return, his fantasy just couldn’t do it for him.

He needed you, god he needed you so so bad it hurt.

Sobs tore from his throat, hands stuttering as his eyes finally flew open, 

“(Y-Y/N)! Please!” He cried out with a strangled moan, vision wavering from the pain of not having you with him despite being right there.

Swallowing all of his pride, he looked towards your perched form, tears slipping from his sparkling viridescent eyes glazed over with lust.

His chest was heaving, thighs quivering and body trembling as he called out to you with a salacious plea, “I can’t..! I can’t do this anymore, please! Please, I-I need you!”

He was begging, begging for you whilst simultaneously thrusting into his hand.

Such an erotic display.

At the moment, you couldn’t even care about the fact he clearly knew it was you there. In fact, it didn’t even come to mind as a jolt of electricity coursed through your body, returning you to your human form as you eagerly jumped off the railing to him, all too willing to join his lascivious activities.

He moaned with delight the second your knee hit his bed, dipping his body towards you. His filthy hand shot off his dick, joining the other with gripping at your baggy sleepwear, pulling you towards his burning body. 

You fell onto him, not given a chance to collect your thoughts before a hand buried itself in your messy hair, yanking your hair so that he could easily smash his lips against your own.

The kiss was nothing like how you pictured your first with him to be. Instead of sweet and gentle, it was downright dirty and sloppy, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You were both clearly inexperienced, but that didn’t matter. You just wanted to feel him, same as he wanted to feel you.

Your hands, shaking with the sudden extreme boost of adrenaline, cupped his chubby cheeks as your lips met again, and again, and again, drool mingling with his own as you tried to get the hang of this.

Eventually, your lips stayed connected, tongues fighting for dominance.

You couldn’t even tell, due to the heat of the moment overtaking your senses, but the entire time you made out, Izuku’s curious hands dragged ever-so-slowly down the sides of your body, feeling those curves that drove him absolutely insane. Just as it seemed as if you’d win the short battle, his large hands came over your plump ass, squeezing the soft flesh and causing you to gasp. With your mind distracted, he quickly smooshed his lips against your own once again, tongue defeating your own and giving him complete access to your mouth.

He explored it, the tip of the wet muscle seemingly grazing over and massaging in just all the right places, drawing a little moan from you that shot straight down to his neglected cock. It twitched against his stomach, and suddenly he wasn’t interested in just making out anymore. He needed more, and he’d fucking get it.

He’s waited so long for this moment, dreamt of it so often it became normal for him to wake up covered in sweat and with a raging erection straining against his shorts.

His grip on your ass moved to your hips, dragging them down onto his member and grinding you down against him.

You both moaned, hips involuntarily jerking against one another, starting up a grinding fest.

Moans melted together as you both continued to kiss before a particularly rough thrust sent your head flinging back and a mewl spewing from you.

“A-ah.. Izuku..!” You shivered, eyes closing as you gripped at his hair. He stared up at you, eyes full of love but darkened by immense desire as you shamelessly moaned above him. His hips ground his rock-hard erection against your soaked panties, brushing roughly against your clothed clit. Your body seemed to jolt with every brush against it, your senses completely overloaded as you were driven mad with lust.

You shrieked with surprise as you were suddenly flipped over, body slamming onto the mattress as Izuku crawled over on top of you.

He continues to grind himself against you, hands moving your legs up so they could wrap around his hips. Whilst kissing at the side of your neck, his nose brushed along the skin, searching for that special spot.

Amidst your onslaught of noises, you made a sound clearly indicating he had found what he had been searching for. His hot tongue licked at the sensitive skin before he bit down on it.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, jumping in his arms as an intense shiver rolled down your back, hands coming up to clutch at his broad shoulders smothered in freckles and burning with a blush.

You felt so, so tingly, so good, so.. So everything. 

Perhaps that’s simply because of how worked up you currently were, every single touch lit your body aflame again and again. Besides, how could you keep quiet when he was rubbing against you in just the right place?

He sucked harshly at the tender flesh before kissing it lovingly as if to apologize for the brutal treatment, licking the pain away and continuing to nibble along the area, leaving a bruise that was sure to remain in the morning. 

In fact, he decided, he was going to leave many. Just..not today.

He couldn’t deny, though, it did feel pretty good that his mark was on your soft skin where all could potentially see.

But for now, you had too many layers on for his current liking.

Izuku drew back, stopping the grind sesh - much to your apparent dismay, tugging at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for permission, and you willingly lifted your arms.

Had you not been so consumed with sheer desire, you would have covered your bare chest. Instead, you nodded your head, giving the man panting as if he had just run a mile permission to kiss his way down to the soft mounds he previously couldn’t help but bashfully stare at.

His lips lavished them both in kisses, praises unknowingly slipping out between his teeth until he finally decided to take one bud into his mouth. 

He was sloppy, messy, and all-around inexperienced, but you couldn’t deny the fact that it still felt good.

He spent surely less than a minute giving attention to each perky nipple, but it was made up for by a sweet kiss. You eagerly returned it, body arching as if trying to bring him closer.

It was so strange how he took control so easily, he had been begging only a few minutes ago.

Not that you minded, of course.

After all, who doesnt like being pampered by their long time crush?

“May I?” He whispered breathlessly, trembling fingers hooked around your panties, ready to pull them off.

You nodded immediately, oh-so desperate to have him actually touch you. You needed to feel him. All this grinding did was leave you with a throbbing clit, pussy so wet your juices were close to flowing down your ass, and the want for more.

He smashed his lips back against your own, practically ripping the fabric off of you and flinging it to only god knows where in this dark room.

His lips didn’t leave yours as his hands traveled down your sides again, squeezing your ass just to hear you gasp. 

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you, or hit with a sudden wave of embarrassment as his fingers seemed to stutter on your thighs.

“It’s okay.. It’s okay..” You cooed against his lips, eyes opening to stare into his.

He gulped, swallowing his insecurities as he ran an index finger along your sit.

You bit your lip, eyes slipping closed once more and hips twitching forward at the foreign touch against heated flesh.

Izuku took this as a sign to go further, so he did.

Staring at your face, he pushed the finger past your lower lips, ignoring the intense throbbing of his dick as he felt how wet you were. The digit trailed down, searching for your clenching hole. When he found it, he couldnt help but teasingly trace around it, adoring the scrunch of your flushed face and the whine that followed suit.

“Please, Izuku..” You whimpered, and how could he say no to that?

He slowly pushed his finger in, nearly cumming on the spot from just how tight and warm you were. He openly moaned, watching as he sunk the finger all the way down to his knuckle.

Clouded eyes flickered back up to your face, noting how you didn’t seem to be in pain.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he pulled the finger out, then pushed it back in, over and over and over again as your thighs twitched around him, mouth falling open as you breathed heavily, moaning ever so softly.

His heart pounded in his chest as he added another finger, continuing the motions for before.

Your hips shimmied at the stretch, his fingers much larger than your own slim once, but so much nicer, because it was him, and not you. Your hips involuntarily chased the rhythm he set.

“Ahh.. haa..h.. Oh! Ah! Ahhhghh!” your eyes shot open as his fingers curled inside you, brushing against that spongey spot in your clenching walls. “Oh! T-There Iz-Izuku~!” You moaned out his name, and it was as if his body got put on autopilot, fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping heat, curly against that spot that had you moaning.

A particularly loud squeal left your parted lips, and he snapped. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you so bad it hurt. Watching your body react violently around only his fingers? The cherry on the cake!

He needed his dick in you, to feel those soft walls clenching around him, to hear you cry out his name more as he brought you to the peak of madness.

But he was worried about how long he’d last.

He was so close before, what if he came nearly immediately?

Pulling his fingers out fully, which drew your attention back to him, he lifted them to his mouth, shoving them in and putting on a sinful display of licking them clean for you

He smiled at you with half-lidded eyes as you stared at him with astonishment. Lurching forward, you took him by surprise by gripping his sweaty hair and pulling him down for another passionate kiss, moaning around his tongue as you tasted your essence on him.

Keeping his focus on the kiss, Izuku’s hand blindly felt around his bedside table, opening the drawer and somehow managing to find the single condom he kept in there.

You noticed it from the corner of your eye, the moonlight reflecting on the silver wrapper.

“When did you get that?” You pulled away from the kiss, indulging in your curiosity as you stared at the condom between his fingers. 

He chuckled nervously, looking to the side in embarrassment, “I- I got a pack from the corner store.. Not long ago..”

He left out the motivation behind it, not ready to reveal he knew you were watching him the entire time - thus bringing forth his precautious side as he fumbled with measuring himself and getting the right size.

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait any longer, princess..” He whispered under a heavy breath, ripping open the packaging, grabbing the latex and rolling it on himself, ignoring your eyes practically burning holes into his heated skin as they watched with eagerness.

Now that it was on, he looked back up to you, hand coming to gently caress your face, thumb smoothing over your blushing cheek as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

Yes, he wanted to pound you into next tomorrow right this instant, be he couldnt ignore the fact that this was your first time together. He wanted it to be.. Sweet.

As sweet as he could make it, anyway.

He jumped in his own skin when he felt your cold fingers wrap around his cock, bringing his oozing head towards your entrance. He was quick to replace them, though, just so he could rub himself between your folds and teasingly against your clit.

“..ready?” He asked nearly impatiently as he guided his tip to your entrance once more.

He slowly pushed in the moment you nodded your head.

Oh god! He thought to himself as he moaned loudly. He was only in by an inch and already it felt like his world was spinning! You were so damn tight! 

He nearly collapsed on top of you, bringing his hands up just to hold your own against the bedsheets.

He was being much too slow for your liking. You were so aroused on, so ready for him that, though you appreciated him going slow for you, you couldn’t handle another second with this agonizing pace.. So, without warning, your legs, which were still wrapped around his hips, tightened, and you forcefully drove his hips forward, fully sheathing him inside you.

He screamed in pleasure, head involuntarily being thrown back as his eyes rolled back. You moaned along with him, the feeling of being full outweighing the slight stinging pain that it brought with it.

His fingernails dug into your hips as he tried to control himself, his body vibrating from how much he was shaking. You held him flushed against you, eyes squeezing shut as you fought to relax around him and get used to his length. Which was pretty damn big! Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew..

But it didn’t take long for the pain to slowly subside, and you were back in business. Meanwhile, Izuku was staring cross-eyed up at the ceiling, holding himself back from exploding.

“Izu-”

“I-I Don-t think I c-can last long, (Y/N)...” he whimpered out, chest heaving and heart hammering. 

You nodded in understanding, he was quite busy with himself before you showed up anyway.

And now all this? It certainly must be sudden.

Plus, Izuku has always been a sensitive boy, so no doubt his nerves were on fire.

Nonetheless, he was quick to catch on to your ‘okay’ for him to move.

So, he pulled himself out halfway, nearly sobbing as he thrusts back in.

You felt so good.. So good.. sogood- “So good.. Ahh! A-ahh nnghjnn S-so go-goo- gahn! Hahhh!” The sheer velocity of his moans overpowered your own as he soon found himself uncontrollably drilling his cock into your pussy, absorbed by the feeling of you sucking him back in like a black hole just to squeeze the life out of him.

That hot coil that had been winding up in his stomach all this time was soon to burst, he could feel himself getting closer and closer with every slap of skin against skin, edged on by your beautiful moans.

“(Y-Y/N)!! I-I’m gonna! I-!” He could barely form any sentences, all that spilled out of that drooling mouth were moans and mindless babbles and praises.

You were just as close, but you wanted more.. So, you ripped one hand free from his grip, licking a digit before thrusting it down just to furiously rub at your puffy clit aching for attention.

You both moaned simultaneously, him at the sight, and you at the combined stimulation.

He was about to break, about to hit the point of no return when he found your G spot. You cried out in ecstasy, body practically arching of the mattress as he focused deep, powerful thrusts on that area.

And by some miracle, you reached your high before he did.

A wave of electrifying pleasure washed over you as your body tensed beneath him, back arching impossibly high off the mattress as your walls seemed to clamp down on his cock like a vice just as that burning hot coil wound tight in your belly burst. Stars bloomed in your eyes as your vision went black, Izuku’s name tearing from your throat.

Your hot, wet walls clamping down on him threw him into his own long-awaited and intense orgasm. His thighs tensed as he cried out in ecstasy into the night air, hips slamming into your fluttering cunt once more before thick, hot cum shot from his dick, filling up the condom deep inside of you.

You both stayed like that for a moment, basking in the afterglow of something you both waited weeks for.

He inhaled shakily before pulling his softening member out, rolling the condom off in a sleepy haze before tying it off and throwing it into the trash bin.

He flopped down beside you, far too sleepy to even think about getting up.

You were already fast asleep, and he couldn’t wait to join you. Wrapping his scarred arm around your waist, he pulled your warm body to his chest, tangling his legs with yours and falling asleep within moments to your soft breaths and the crickets singing outside his glass door.

There was a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.

You’d both have to explain yourselves, talk about what happened, what was next, and confirm feelings for each other. That this wasn’t just a ‘one night stand’ between friends.

And, of course, you’d be hit with a truck of pain between your legs, rendering you unable to walk properly. At least Izuku is there to take care of you, and that it was a Sunday.

Until you both come to the horrifying realization that Izuku, in the heat of the moment, accidentally flung your panties out the open window, which was then miraculously carried by a stray gust of wind just for Kaminari to find in a bush by the side of the building the following morning when taking the trash out.

Thank god nobody recognized them, but you could only hope you’d get the chance to get that back before he, along with Mineta, no doubt do something with them.

#fucking hell #this took forever #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku #deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku x you #deku x you #izuku midoriya x you #n/sfw #sfw

[laurenwritesfics]

Here it is folks, chapter 5! Again, sorry for the wait but I hope it will have been worth it!

Read the previous chapter HERE / read the full series on AO3

Warning(s): Angst (sorry...again)

CHAPTER FIVE: ADJUSTMENTS

Things had started to feel calmer now. Time had begun to slow down, and Frank was grateful for the chance to breathe again. One Saturday, he returned from the boat yard to change his oil-stained shirt and caught sight of Mary’s journal on the kitchen table – Evelyn had forced her into therapy back in Boston, and though she had hated it, journaling was the one thing she kept on doing – it had been left open on a page filled with tally marks. At the top of the page, she had written ‘number of days without Fred’. Frank pressed his palms against the table and dipped his head. Perhaps Mary would always struggle emotionally in one way or another. He was beginning to feel like a failure. Was his best really good enough? It was impossible to tell.

Sunday was just as quiet. They ate together in silence. Roberta didn’t visit. Their new normal was frustratingly abnormal.

“School tomorrow.” Frank cast a glance at Mary. “Homework done? Books ready?” He knew he didn’t need to ask, but he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Mary’s fork danced around her plate. “Obviously.” She huffed.

“Sorry, I was just asking.”

No reply.

Mary scrunched her nose and continued to pick at her plate, retreating back into her bubble.

“Listen,” Frank reached over and put a hand on her cold arm “I know things are hard right now. But if you talk about it, sometimes it makes things easier.”

“You sound like Evelyn.”

Frank’s shoulders dropped. “You don’t have to finish dinner, okay? You’re cold. I’m gonna go get you a sweater or something.”

“I’m fine.”

He ignored her and left the table. Mary pushed him away every time he tried to slip her arms into one of her hoodies. He fought back, not realizing how roughly he was holding her until she winced and slipped off the chair. He immediately swept her into his arms.

“I’m sorry.” He rocked her slightly. “You need to stop being so fucking stubborn, Mary.” His voice cracked a little. Her tiny hands squeezed him as hard as they could and she rested her head on his shoulder. When Mary started to cry, so did Frank. He pulled back, brushed a strand of hair from her face and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I’m trying my best here. You’ve gotta give me something, kiddo.”

Mary nodded, paused and then ruffled Frank’s hair. He returned the gesture and tucked her under his arm, carrying her across the kitchen and into the living room. She was laughing now. They both were. Mary dangled in his grip, arms limp, then tumbled down, grabbing his hands and stepping on his feet.

“Can we watch TV?” She looked up at him, the dewy sheen of tears beginning to fade from her eyes.

“Sure. But only for a little while. You’ve gotta get up early for school.”

Mary threw her head back and groaned. “Why can’t I just skip class tomorrow? Everybody hates me anyway.”

Frank tugged on her wrists. “Hey, nobody hates you, okay? They’re just jealous of how smart and awesome you are.”

“You have to say that, you’re my Uncle.”

“I’m also an adult, which believe it or not, means I actually know more than you do. About people, at least.”

“Yeah, you are kinda dumb…” She nodded.

“That’s it,” Frank picked her up “you just lost your extra hour of TV.”

In spite of his attempt at sternness, he let her fall asleep on the couch.

Monday came, and Frank finally finished his work on the Celestia. One brief phone call later, he had been invited to join the owner for a trip out on the lake. Frank would usually have been cautious about this – especially with wealthy customers - but he accepted the offer simply because it would give him a chance to clear his head. It was better than sneaking onto someone else’s boat with a six-pack of Heineken at two in the morning, at least. As he wiped his hands on a worn rag, he reclined against the workbench in the corner of the garage. A soft ache spread through his chest. Deep into his biceps. Exhaustion snuck up on him without warning. The chaos of the past few months was finally catching up with him.

He waited so long for Mary to come home from school that he started to think maybe she’d gone on another adventure. His worries subsided when she arrived, shoulders pushed forward under the weight of her satchel. As she threw it down and began to unpack a stack of books, Frank realized exactly what had happened.

“Did you walk all the way from Jackson?”

“Yeah.” Mary squinted as she fumbled around for another book. “Lucy’s really nice. She let me take out a bunch of stuff.”

“She did, huh? Am I gonna be serving you dinner in your room tonight?” He half-joked.

Mary had already stopped listening. Frank shook his head and turned back to the stove to finish cooking. This time, eating in silence didn’t feel awkward – Mary brought a book to the table, fork occasionally missing her mouth as she sat absorbed in whatever it was she was reading. Frank pictured her walking down Jackson with her nose in another book and couldn’t help letting out a soft huff of amusement. She was almost happy. And at least for now, almost was enough.

When he checked on Mary, he peered into a room lit only by a small torch light. She was back in her reading tent. Even though the door squeaked slightly, she didn’t stir. Back in his own bedroom, Frank reached into his nightstand for his phone. Lucy would wake the next morning to a short, thankful text message.

Frank and Mary, however, woke to a prolonged, impatient buzzing. The doorbell.

He was tempted to rub his eyes again when he saw the woman standing on the porch.

Evelyn.

Frank was immediately skeptical, but he opened the door to her anyway.

“Well,” she popped a hip and adjusted her sunglasses “are you going to ask me to come in or shall I just stand here on the porch?”

“Mary’s heading to school in a couple minutes.” His jaw tightened a little as he watched her fingers flex against the handle of her travel case. This wasn’t an impromptu visit.

“I’ll say hello quickly, then.” She barged past him, the wheels of her case narrowly missing his toes.

Mary had a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and a book clutched to her chest. She covered her mouth as she hurriedly chewed and then walked around the kitchen island to meet Evelyn.

“Hello, darling.” Evelyn planted a kiss on the crown of Mary’s head, leaving a glossy pink mark in her hair. “Off to school?”

“Yep.” Mary replied, popping the ‘p’ curtly. “Are you staying with us?”

“Maybe. That depends on your uncle.” She inclined her head towards Frank in a way that she thought was comical, but it just made Mary cringe.

“Why?” She knelt down to shove the book she was holding into her satchel.

“That’s enough, short-stuff.” Frank intervened, steering her away from Evelyn. “Let’s go.”

“Have a good day, darling!” Evelyn called out, pivoting her suitcase so that it would fit flush against the wall.

When Frank returned, he slammed the front door and crossed his arms as he glared down at Evelyn.

“Alright, what’s this about? What little scheme have you come up with now?”

Evelyn smoothed her sundress and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “You’re so hostile.” She tutted.

“Can you blame me?” He strode over to her and perched on the arm of the couch.

“Not at all.” She clasped her hands in her lap and twisted herself to face him. “I wanted –“she stuttered, blinking “-needed to see my son and granddaughter.”

In that moment, Frank saw himself. The same sunken hopelessness. He noticed raw pink lines beneath her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Evelyn seemed human.

“This is about Diane isn’t it.”

“Yes. I couldn’t face another anniversary alone, Frank.”

“You called me Frank.” He mused. “Where’s the real Evelyn?”

She managed the smallest of smiles and reached out rub his arm. “I lost her a long time ago.” She was holding his hand now, squeezing lightly. “I won’t stay too long. I’m sure you must be busy.”

Frank placed his other hand over hers. “Stay as long as you want.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Her icy tone returned.

“I mean it.” He insisted. “It’ll be good for Mary.”

“How is she?”

“Honestly? She’s struggling. She’s stubborn about it, though.”

“I wonder where she gets that from…” Evelyn chuckled.

“She’s dealing with more than a kid should have to deal with right now. Losing Fred, the car accident…”

Evelyn’s head jerked to the side. “Car accident?”

“Don’t worry, Mary wasn’t in the car. It was just me. I was a little drunk, it was stupid.”

“For God’s sake, Francis!” Evelyn yelled. “You stupid boy!”

Francis. Boy. She was his mother again. Instead of fighting back, the ache he had felt earlier returned and he slumped against the cushions.

“After it happened,” his breaths were shallow, a lump forming in his throat “I just sat there thinking about what would’ve happened if...” both his hands and his voice had begun to shake “I can’t take care of her. Not in the way she needs to be. Diane would be so fucking disappointed.”

Evelyn took Frank’s face in her hands and kissed his forehead. He buried his face in her shoulder and allowed her to be the mother she suddenly wanted to be.

“Diane would be very proud of you.” She glanced up at the ceiling, fighting back tears. “I’m proud of you, darling.” She whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. “So proud of you.”

“I just want her to be okay.” He sniffled.

“She will be.” Evelyn turned to kiss Frank’s hair and then stood up, brushing a crease from the skirt of her dress. “Why don’t I cook dinner for us tonight? It’ll give you a chance to rest.”

Frank’s defenses were down, so he agreed.

That night, Evelyn made a shepherd’s pie and sat with Mary as she completed her homework. She piled chocolate ice cream into a bowl and made herself a martini. His mother was back, but she was still putting on the airs and graces of the woman she once was. He knew that if she didn’t, she would be more broken than she had been when she arrived. So he played pretend too.

Almost happy. Almost a family. And that would be just fine for now.

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