#damn straight she'd give up everything for him

[verfound]

The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon Season 2 Teaser | The Book of Carol

#youtube #the walking dead #twd spoilers #twd: daryl dixon #the book of carol #carol peletier #daryl dixon #SCREAMING #incoherent screeching #I AM EXCITED AGAIN #the caryl show is back on track #SHE HAS THE CROSSBOW #queen carol #is it next year yet #I'm so sorry if you didn't follow for twd #y'all gonna get so spammed you have no idea #damn straight she'd give up everything for him #stay safe nine lives

[penny00dreadful]

So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren��t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #fanfic #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fic #stranger things fic #modern au #eddie and robin #platonic stobin #robin and steve #finding safety in people through pride flags #I am SUPPOSED to be TAKING A BREAK from WRITING so I don't BURN OUT #But THIS would NOT leave me ALONE #what's the ship name for platonic eddie and robin? #is there one? #THERE IS ONE #platonic edbin #safety fic

[vmpiires]

﹆₊ 乗車‧₊˚ RIDE IT LIKE A HARLEY, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ you should be heading to uni for class but your driver has other plans. wc, 1.76K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. wrote this in advance despite the results of the poll ;) i just really wanted to write something and i was getting bored (i was also gettin agitated by the banner pic cuz i’m running out of the pics that look like the one on the previous post and idk if i like this one..) ANYWAYYYYY hope ya enjoyyy. reblog to support meeee

␥ tags. biker AU, smoking, smut, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

you grew increasingly anxious as you waited for your driver, your heart pounding in nervous anticipation at the thought of being late and having your professor give you a scolding. as if the situation wasn't bad enough already, the acrid smoke from the person behind you only further stirred up your sense of dread.

"ya look like a damsel in distress," the voice behind you said. you cautiously spun to see an imposing figure, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

your gaze fell upon the intricate tattoo displayed on his forearm, a symbol that you instantly recognized with a flicker of fear and awe. it was the insignia of the most notorious biker gang in japan, synonymous with power, rebellion, and danger. the black lines and bold design seemed to pulsate with a life of their own, drawing your eyes in and leaving you both captivated and wary.

"can give you a ride if ya want." he offered.

the words hung in the air for a moment before you finally replied, "i guess that's fine."

your grip on your bag tightening with tension. your tone was hesitant, unsure of what to make of the situation. the silence around you amplified the sound of your own breathing and the rustling of leaves in the wind. you could feel the weight of his words lingering between you, like a heavy fog that refused to dissipate. your heart raced as you tried to process the implications of his statement, unsure if everything would be okay or not.

his gaze roamed over you, taking in your appearance. you were the complete opposite of him; a sweet and cheerful girl who looked like she'd break if someone breathed on her wrong. the thought made him scowl.

still, there was something about you that he couldn't put his finger on. even though he knew your fear was palpable, he felt some sort of urge towards you. like you were a forbidden fruit that he shouldn't be touching, but desperately wanted to taste.

he watched you with a faint flicker of appreciation, taking in your frame. his gaze ran up your legs, appreciating how short the length of your skirt hugged your hips. you were a delicate flower. soft and easily manipulated, waiting to be plucked.

'damn, she's fine.'

"don't be all tense," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "i ain't gonna hurt you. just don't be all talkative. i'm not in the mood for small talk." he took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke, the faint scent of tobacco lingering in the air. your eyebrows furrowed at his words, unsure of what to make of this mysterious stranger who had just saved you from imperil.

but you knew you didn't have time to hesitate or argue. with a deep breath, you made your decision and strode over to the blood red harley parked nearby. the streetlights glinted off its shiny exterior, making it look like it was straight out of a magazine cover.

you climbed onto the black padded seat, adjusting your bag on your shoulders as you rolled your shoulders to get comfortable. the engine roared to life beneath you, simply ready to get the day over with.

your driver started the engine which sounded rumbling and thunderous, the smell of fuel and oil from the vehicle lingering in the air. he gave a low whistle before peering behind him to look at you, his ponytail slinging over his shoulder.

"alright, we're going, so keep your arms tight around me if you don't wanna fly off." he warned with a bored expression, not bothering to give you any pleasantries whatsoever. "name's choso, by the way."

you eagerly nod your head and wrap your arms around the man's body, pulling yourself in close. his back is broad and strong, and you bury your face into his warmth, inhaling the intoxicating mix of cologne and cigarette smoke.

despite the thick leather jacket he wears, you can still feel the defined muscles of his back beneath your fingertips. the scent of him fills your senses, adding to the overwhelming desire that pulls you towards him.

choso could feel your frame snuggling up to him, which amused him. it reminded him of the times when he had his previous girlfriends wrap themselves around him while they rode. he was used to the feeling, but he didn't complain; it felt nice to have a woman against him, especially one with your frame. his grip on the bike handle tightened as he shifted speeds.

he turned his head, catching another glimpse of you behind him. "so what's your name, darlin'?" he asked in a soft, inviting tone. you couldn't help but feel drawn to him as you told him your name. he nodded, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips, followed by an acknowledging hum that made your heart skip a beat.

"mm...nice name for a pretty princess," choso's words lingered for a moment before an idea appeared in his mind. as the bike approached a red light, he'd look back behind him to look at you again. "what do you say we go somewhere else, hm? i know you're heading to class but what's wrong with being a lil late?"

choso's question caught you off guard, wondering why a man you barely knew had been asking you to go somewhere with him besides dropping you off to uni and driving off. but, you didn't understand why you even said yes to his query.

the entire time, you were so worried about your professor scolding you because you weren't on time for class yet here you were, making your way into this man's apartment and to his bedroom.

as you lay on the bed, choso's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake. his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as they slowly made their way down to your thighs. you could feel his nails digging into your skin, leaving a slight sting that only added to the pleasure. with each passing moment, your body grew hotter and more responsive to his touch.

his voice whispered seductively in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "you know what would be cute?" he began, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. "you with your legs wrapped tightly around my waist, your hands grabbing at my hair, and your nails digging into my back… do you think you'd like that, baby? because i'm sure as hell gonna love it…"

with a gasp of anticipation, you nodded eagerly and pulled him closer. your heart raced as you awaited the ecstasy that was sure to come with choso's skilled touch and wickedly sweet words.

your feet danced lightly in the air as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, despite the marks and bites left on your skin by choso. you managed to reach a shaky hand up to his head, pulling out the elastic band that held his jet black hair in a ponytail, causing it to fall down over his broad shoulders.

choso's smirk widened as he felt his hair come loose. He stopped his teasing and looked up at you, before deftly flipping both of you over so that you were now on top.

you sat there in confusion for a moment, unsure of what choso was trying to get you to do. you had never been intimate with anyone like this before. but as he placed his hands on your hips and gave you a mischievous look, lifting your skirt slightly to get another glimpse of your body, you understood.

"don't get all shy now," he chuckled lowly, assisting you in removing both his pants and boxers. "it's just like riding a bike…except this time, you'll be riding me." his words sent shivers down your spine as you straddled him, ready to take control.

choso pushed himself into your sopping wet core, his length surprising you as he attempted to bottom out. a low groan escaped his lips as he filled you, and you instinctively grabbed onto him for support.

"quit whining," he scolded, waving a dismissive hand. "you'll get used to it in a minute." he placed his hands on your hips once again, guiding your movements. "you go like this, okay? keep your eyes on me."

as he rocked your body, you let out a soft moan, trying your best to follow choso's instructions. But your gaze kept wandering away from him, unable to focus with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. sensing your distraction, choso moved one hand from your hips and placed it under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"i'm right here," he murmured, locking eyes with you. "not over there." his intense gaze held yours, grounding you in the present moment.

choso's lips curled into a smirk as your full attention became fixated on him. the room echoed with the sounds of your moans and groans, mixing with the creaking of the bed frame and the wet slapping of skin against skin. your fingernails dug deeply into the soft flesh of his shoulders, urging him to push into you harder and faster.

as the intensity built, your breath hitched in your throat, matching the increasing pace of your movements against him. choso's strong arms pulled you closer, his grip on your hips becoming tighter as he matched your urgency. every thrust was met with a powerful response from your body, driving both of you closer to the edge of pleasure.

you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty, orgasmic haze. you could feel choso's hot breath against your skin as you panted for air, your bodies still tingling from the intense release. slowly, his hands released you, his fingers trailing down your body before coming to rest at his sides. he let out a deep sigh and gave you a sly smile.

"next time," he said in a husky voice, "we'll see if you can handle it without my help." his words sent shivers down your spine and the smirk on his face only added to the thrill. "but for now, go clean up so you can make it to class. i think you can handle a quick scolding. being late ain’t gone hurt ya none."

you nodded, feeling both ecstatic and exhausted from the recent experience. as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn't help but reminisce every moment in your mind, already counting down the minutes until you could be with choso again.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso #jjk x reader #choso x reader #choso x black!reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #jjk smut #jjk nanami #jujutsu hakari #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu choso #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu satoru #biker!choso

[irenadel]

When Homelander comes home and finds you asleep on his sofa under one of his capes cos you missed him whilst he was away

By hour 40, you've called everyone. The phone number they gave you. Ashley. Your mother. Friends. Some of the other members of the Seven. When serious men in serious suits knocked on your door and told you there had been an accident, you had sat down, a strange, distorted ringing in your ears. Something about nuclear. Something about this being normal. Sometimes it was just communication that was cut off. No reason to worry, Vought had a policy of informing the emergency contact of any supe after 24 hours without contact during a mission... It had just never been implemented for Homelander. You didn't ask whether it was because he had never gone missing for 24 hours or if he had never had an emergency contact. There's an outraged, hysterical part of you that is just waiting to know so she can start screaming at anyone even vaguely responsible for this. For the callous disregard with which Vought treats the man you love.

But you didn't scream. You sat in your chair trying to breathe and started making calls. The first ones to friends and family because you DID need to calm the fuck down. Because you knew you'd be spending a sleepless night and would need someone to talk you through it. The next ones were to Vought officials, because by hour 35 you've gone beyond keeping calm to cold certainty that this isn't really the routinary scenario they've tried to feed you. You kept your cool. Years of customer service have taught you people respond better to weary, continuous insistence than to angry outbursts

It makes no difference.

So, by hour 40 you've dragged yourself to John's condo in Vought Tower. You've been talking for four hours straight and you've been awake for the better part of two days. You broke down in front of Ashley and she, half-terrified, half-pityingly suggested you come up here. She'd personally keep you informed, she assured you.

You stare at the cold, empty rooms. HIS cold empty, rooms. Not a single ounce of his personality in them. Not a single personal object to remember him by if... if this is it...

You storm into his bedroom, furiously rifling through his toiletries, his clothes, thinking of the many conversations you've had with him about privacy, not giving a damn about your own hypocrisy here. All his personal things, the books you've given him, civilian clothes he's bought at your request, the brush he uses when he's not being professionally styled... they're all at your place.

There's a couple of dirty super suits in his laundry hamper and you get it now. You get his Proustian obsession with scent, you get how one stoops to this, desperate measures and everything. You don't dare think you'll be able to tell him when you see him again. You give his bed a wide berth, because that you've shared, not a week ago. If you have to lay down on the bed you fucked in you'll start screaming and never stop.

Homelander suspects they've let him go because he looks PISSED. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't even have let them near him. He was long past the days when he would tolerate nervous people in lab coats prodding at him anxiously. He especially did not wish to tolerate them now, jittery and ready as he was to just go, get out of here, get to you and make sure you were alright. He was fine of course, of course. Nothing to worry about. These little medical cocksuckers should have taken the fucking hint on the first round of tests, but they had said contamination risk and he had, gritting his teeth, allowed them to do whatever needed to be done to keep you safe.

By the time he's done with the shower and tests and a fresh change of suit he's already worked himself up into fury. He is deeply considering who among the medical team is disposable and would have gone through with it for sheer stress relief if Ashley had not chosen that instant to break into the medical bay. Now THIS he couldn't be expected to put up with.

"No, no, no," he cuts her off, pointing at her warningly. "Whatever it is, it can wait. I've got, whatsit called, paid leave after an incident. It's company policy. Stop. No. I don't fucking care. Deal with it without me."

He takes off before he can hear Ashley's protests, already heading to your apartment. He knows he'll get some peace and quiet there at least. And he's positively itching to see you after your time apart. Who could have told him he'd become such a sentimental fool over you? He chuckles to himself and stays the course. All he needs is a hot meal, a good fuck and two or ten hours in your arms and he'd be good as new. You'd even be proud of him. First paid leave he'd ever demanded.

But you aren't home when he gets there. The place in disarray, the phone ringing, a cold cup of coffee and the faint stench of your fear around it. He's unprepared by how much this wounds him, like the bottom's dropped out from under him and he's been set adrift. He'd felt like that the first time he had flown, with how little control he'd had over it.

He stops himself dead, refusing to be this pathetic, and reaches for the old familiar anger. Ever ready for him to pick up and hammer you with it as soon as you deign to show yourself. He tells himself it is this, and a liberal dose of SPITE, that makes him leave (flee) this place before you make it back (not the hurt at your absence, the fear). A place, that for all its lack of luxuries, feels more like home than his fucking tomb of a condo ever did.

He's not crying when he makes it to Vought Tower. His eyes are defiantly dry. His hands hurt from being clenched so tightly (Homelander is routinely the only thing that can hurt Homelander). Oh you will hear him as soon as you show your face, oh little lady you've earned yourself a fucking problem, he thinks to himself furiously. (He refuses to glance at the mirror on his way in, refuses to even consider whatever he would propose he do about you.) He's more than enough to put you in your place, more than enough to make sure you never forget what you OWE him.

Your heartbeat hits him first.

Then the salty aftertaste of your tears.

He turns around, bewildered for a second, and is met with the sight of you, his dirty cape wrapped around yourself like it could protect you from the world (John knows, oh he KNOWS what that looks like). He freezes for a moment, mouth dry, the pit of his stomach clenching in some unknown but powerful emotion. He drinks in all the details (drinks them up like a man dying of thirst, consumes them before he can even react). Your little, white-knuckled hands clenched around the fabric. Your eyes, screwed shut as if sleep is a monumental task requiring all your effort. God knows how long you've been here, asleep, FINALLY asleep. He knows because of the coffee and the dark circles under your eyes, peaking from behind his cape, he knows from the sharp smell of your cortisol, pumping steadily through your sweet veins to signal stress, sleep deprivation, worry...

For him.

He feels himself smiling, the edges of his mouth tugging against the exhaustion (and fear, fear he will never admit to) of the last couple of days. He wants to watch you like this forever, wants to savor your anguish, your LOVE for him, so clearly delineated by the bittersweet taste of your despair.

But he also just wants you.

He gives you no warning, just gathers you up in his arms, and chuckles cruelly at the scream of fright you give out. He's kissing you with no time for explanations, licking the tears off your face, as you protest, as you cry again, relief coursing through you like a drug. You try to hold unto the cape slipping from your shoulders as he carries you with one hand under your ass while using the other to stop you.

"That's enough, little lady," he says through that too-wide smile full of sharp teeth you love so much. "You don't need that anymore, you've got the real deal. And the real deal is going to teach you not to worry your silly little head over me. Nothing can hurt me, remember?"

Nothing.

Nothing but himself... and now you...

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #IreAsks #I made it sad because I can #Once more this is vaguely Pygmalion versey #No-emotional-regulation-lander

[xoluvx]

break-ups & make-outs; b.eilish

summary: after going through break-ups, both you and billie decide to mend the pieces together

"Fuck him," you said furrowing your brows after listening to what your best friend revealed about her relationship and the nasty break-up she'd silently gone through. Did you feel a little betrayed she hadn't told you sooner? Yes, but she was a private person and it took her time to process those feelings. "What an asshole," you added watching her purse her lips, nodding in agreement.

"Whatever, I get it. He wanted something else, but why string me along?" she huffed flopping down on the best resting her hands on her belly. She played with the rings on her fingers looking up at her ceiling feeling your body shift next to hers.

"Welcome to the singles club," you teased laying on your back as well. You scooted closer to her smelling the scent of her perfume. It was all over her bed, but smelling it straight off her brought a different type of comfort.

"Come," she said remembering how bad your breakup had been. If anything, it'd been worse. You actually dated the guy for more than a year.

You crawled into her outstretched arms, resting your head near her chest; an arm draped over her body as you tried erasing the memory. You'd been a mess, calling her nonstop, sobbing into her pillow as she tried to comfort you.

"We should just date each other," she said breaking the silence and bringing you back from the flashback. Your body stiffened a little. She'd joked plenty about it before, but there was something in her voice that sounded serious. That made you think a little more about it.

Why not?

"We know each other better than anyone else. You'd never cheat on me," her voice trailed off and you sat up slightly watching her not move, but her eyes had shifted to yours. Your hand now rested on her belly, the other firmly on the mattress.

"You can't be serious, Bil," you said shaking your head a little trying to stifle the awkward laugh that was your failed attempt at breaking the tension. Because there was tension.

"You've never thought about it?" she asked, eyes still on you. Fingertips grazing your hand as your fingers subconsciously dug into her shirt. One arm was behind her head using it to support her head as her eyes fell down to your lips which were parted. You didn't know what to say.

Had you thought about it? Almost all the time. Especially when she hugged you a little too tight or watched you a little too closely when you told a story. You thought of what her lips would feel like on yours if they'd be soft or firm against yours. You thought about her fingers gripping your skin, bodies pressing against one another.

"How long have you been thinking about it?" you asked cheekily trying to pull back the seriousness, her fingers now fully intertwined with yours. But you didn't move them. You let her hold your hand.

"All the damn time," she admitted removing her arm from the back of her head and sitting up so her face was right near yours, fingers still locked. Her free hand brushed your jaw. Thumb caressing your skin as you subconsciously closed your eyes puckering your lips and inching closer to her face.

She didn’t recoil. She let your noses brush as you squeezed her hand urging her to close the gap. To kiss you. To show you how long she’d been thinking of this. Of what you’d been missing out on.

When her lips brushed on yours, you had to catch your breath. This was actually happening.

“I’d take care of you,” she whispered against your lips; you gulped feeling her fingers grip the back of your neck pulling you closer.

“What else?” your voice croaked as your knees touched, you were sitting but your legs felt weak.

“I’ll give you everything you need,” she replied and the feeling of her minty breath drove you crazy. You inhaled and before you could exhale, her lips were on yours. Tender but certain. They lingered without moving until your fingers tightened around hers asking for more.

Billie placed her hand on your thigh, her other hand still gripping the back of your neck as her lips started moving. They moved tentatively morphing with yours until you wrapped an arm behind her back moving up until your fingers were at the base of her head digging into her hair.

An audible moan filled the room as the sound of your heavy breathing mixed between kisses. Kisses that were now desperate and hungry. Hands gripping to clothes, bodies raising and hovering. She kneeled over you as you gripped her back pulling her closer, tilting your head up to stay connected to her lips.

The possibilities in the kiss left your future open and you wanted to explore each and every one of them with her.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff

[smurphyse]

Low Tide | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 9 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: makeouts, dry humping, sexual negotiations, nipple play, rough heavy petting, hair pulling, interrupted sex

Summary: You give Spencer a haircut... which leads to something else. Later, you go out to dinner with Holly and Michelle and Spencer.

Spencer spent the week avoiding Honey, and she seemed to be doing much of the same. He heard through the grapevine that she spent most of it working on her boat. He didn't know how to address the kiss any more than he'd already. He didn't really want to get into it with her, and now that they'd been forced into this double date he was feeling more anxious by the day. 

His car was in the shop still, and unlike every other town he'd been to in the last two years, he couldn't just hop in and drive away from his fears. He was stuck here for at least another three weeks, but as Friday finally approached, he found himself standing outside her apartment door. 

He kept finding himself staring at the wall, knowing the only news from her might be bad news. He was making lists of shit to tell his therapist, all the reasons it had been a shitty thing for him to do, when it hit him. 

Who gives a shit? 

He'd be leaving soon, and she had clearly been interested in him. She didn't tell him to stop, not even when Rose and Emily showed up. Honey hadn't pushed him away or yelled. Instead, she'd kissed him back and moaned in his ear. He had nothing to feel bad about, and neither did she. 

It was best to act like it didn't happen. 

The last time he really saw her was when Emily left. They'd shared a hug and a long talk, then she went inside. He and Emily had a tearful goodbye full of hugs and promises to call more often, and since then Spencer still hadn't called the team. He should. Maybe tomorrow to let Emily know how it went. 

Tucci's wasn't a high class restaurant according to Holly, but it was nicer than the ones in town. Spencer's hair had grown out so much in the last few years, and even after the bruises from the fight faded and he returned his brace to Dr. Altman, he was still struggling with his looks. 

Spencer just looked so tired, and with his scraggly beard and overgrown hair, he decided it was time to make a small change. He didn't plan on wearing anything besides a nicer jacket and pants to dinner, but he still felt he owed Honey the decency of looking nice for their forced date. 

He knew nothing would come of it, and he didn't want it to. He was a wanderer now, had no home, but he wanted to look nice for her. 

Spencer's hand shook as he knocked on her door. He didn't even know if she could help him, but he'd yet to figure out where the barber shop was in town and he didn't want people to gossip around him after he cleaned himself up. 

She opened the door in another pair of her trademark tiny shorts and a tight crop tank top. Her newly dried hair hung in ringlets down over her shoulders, the fresh scent of citrus and saltwater wafting from her after a shower. 

"Hey," she breathed with an awkward smile. "Is everything okay?"

Spencer nodded, trying to ignore how good her curves looked in that outfit. She still wore her wedding ring around her neck, and he couldn't help but think about how it had felt to lick his way under the strap and taste her skin. 

"Do you know how to cut hair?" he asked instead of kissing her like he wanted to. She leaned against the doorframe, tapping it as she watched him. 

"Uh, yeah," she replied with a smirk. "Come on in."

She turned on her heel and went right up the stairs, expecting him to follow. His eyes went straight for her ass, watching as it jiggled with each step. She looked too damned good for how long it had been since he'd had sex. It was frustrating. Now that he'd gotten a taste of her, he just wanted more. But he was leaving soon. Not soon enough for it to not be awkward after. The last thing he needed was to be chased out of town under a cloud for fucking their beloved young widow. 

Spencer looked around as he reached the top of the stairs, taking in the lofted apartment above the Inn. It was just a big open concept room with a kitchen in one corner, her bed in the other. A television was set up on the wall, a small dining table nearby. There was a room in the middle with an open door, and he could see the big clawfoot tub sitting inside the bathroom. 

She had a lot of sea-related decor, mixed with a bit of boho. Her couch was bright orange velvet, with teal and pink throw pillows. She had gauzy white curtains embroidered with seashells along the windows. One of the walls was a brightly painted mural with flowers. The whole place seemed to be jam packed with ridiculousness that somehow fit Honey perfectly. 

The walls were mostly windows, overlooking most of the town. It was beautiful up here, the view of the midday sun heading toward the ocean in the distance. Like Mattie May, she had pictures plastered all over. 

He recognized Ernesto, Holly and Rico, though they were much younger. Rico had long hair and Ernesto’s hair was braided back. Holly looked more or less the same with his military haircut. There were pictures of more townsfolk, including some with Honey, but there was one that caught his eye. 

It was of Honey, but she looked to be about fourteen in the photo on the mantle. A girl had her arm slung over her shoulder and flashed an easy smile at the camera, but she barely looked older than Honey. She also looked almost exactly like her. The broad expanse of the ocean in winter laid behind them, both dressed in puffy coats with red cheeks and bright grins. It must have been taken in her home town in Maine. 

"My sister Madelyn," she said behind him. Spencer turned, feeling nosy and caught. 

"I've never heard you talk about her," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets to quell some of his anxiety. "You're not close, I take it."

"We were," she replied with a soft smile. "She died when I was sixteen."

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

Honey shrugged, turning on her heel. She snagged a chair from the table and dragged it into the bathroom, beckoning him to follow. She patted the seat, then ducked down to open the cabinet under the sink. 

The bathroom was small, with a freestanding tub and separate shower on one wall. The shower was encased in glass, hand laid tile against the wall and the floor. She had a vanity mirror in the center of the wall, the toilet on the other side. 

She pulled out a little case and a cape, which made Spencer chuckle. "You do this a lot?"

"The only barber in town is nicknamed 'Wandering Willie,'" Honey replied, frowning. "And it's not because his name is William."

Spencer made a face and plopped down in the seat. Honey made quick work of tossing the cape around his shoulders and tying it. She gently tugged his hair out of the collar and ran a light hand through it. 

"What do you want me to do? Do you have any pictures?"

Even though he had no cell service, Spencer had made a habit of keeping his cell charged and in his pocket. He pulled it out and unlocked it, then went about flipping through old photos of himself. Honey went to the sink while he did so, likely going out of her own way not to be nosy again like she had with his suitcase. 

"I always liked it like this," Spencer muttered as he came across a photo of him and JJ. It was at Rossi's wedding, still a bit long but manageable for him. The shorter it was the more often he needed it cut and he wasn't a fan of strangers touching his hair. 

Honey stepped behind him, looking at the photo over his shoulder. She smiled, "Cuuute. You look a lot different there."

"Yeah, it was a few years ago," he grumbled, feeling much older than he had when the photo was taken. 

Honey tapped his jaw as heat rushed to his cheeks. "I like the beard, though. It's a good look on you."

Spencer bit back a rather foolish grin as she poked through her kit for scissors and a comb. Armed with them and a spray bottle, she shook it a little and smiled, "Ready Freddie?"

"Do your worst."

Honey made quick work of combing his hair. Her deft fingers flitted through his locks, trimming carefully. She was laser focused, those pretty eyes watching every snip of her scissors. 

Spencer couldn't help but watch her through the reflection in the mirror. Her hair hung in ringlets, bouncing as she fluffed up his hair to see where to cut next. She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth as she focused, lost in what she was doing. 

She moved to stand in front of him, angling his bangs to see where she wanted to make the cut. Her hip leaned against his thigh, her upper body contorting a bit before she changed her mind. She moved to his other side but seemed to run into the same problem. She didn't seem to want to push her luck and touch him. 

Spencer's hands threaded out from underneath the cape before he could really think about it. He palmed her hips and slid her onto his lap, and she put steadying hands on his shoulders to keep herself upright. His thighs spread to hold her in place, safe and upright. 

Honey looked down at him with wide eyes and her lips slightly parted. Her cheeks dusted with reddish pink, looking far too innocent and kissable for his liking. 

"Keep going," Spencer muttered, his voice husky. "Just do what you need to do to be comfortable."

Honey nodded, but there was no mistaking the uptick in her breathing. It wasn't panicked, and Spencer watched as the blotchy red inched its way up her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, and he easily noticed her nipples begin to pop through the thin fabric of her tank top. 

Her fingers shook a bit as she finished up the front of his hair. She set her scissors down and fluffed it up to eyeball it and make sure it was even. Her nails grazed against his scalp as she did it again, and Spencer couldn't help the way his eyes fluttered shut.

His hands were still on her hips, the pads of his fingers grazing her skin. Thanking God silently for crop tops, Spencer did his best to keep still. Her skin was so warm, and she smelled incredible. All he wanted to do was bury his face in her neck and breathe her in. 

"You don't get touched enough," her voice came softly after a moment. "Do you, Spencer?"

Spencer struggled to peel open his eyes as her fingers dragged down and over his beard. He cocked a brow at her while she inspected the fuzzy mess. "What makes you say that?"

"Nobody enjoys getting a haircut this much," Honey smirked. She adjusted on his lap to reach for the scissors and comb again. Spencer did his best to accommodate her. He didn't want her to get up. She was also the only one he'd ever enjoyed a haircut this much from. 

"More barbers should look like you, then," he replied smoothly. Honey flashed him a playful squint, pressing on the underside of his jaw to start trimming his beard. 

The cool steel of the scissors scraped lightly along his jugular. He swallowed thickly, but willed himself to relax. Her soft hands danced along his jawline, but kept him firmly where she wanted him. 

"I'm a bit nervous about tonight," she confessed quietly, her voice hardly above a whisper. 

Spencer's brows furrowed, "Because of Michelle and Holly?"

Honey shook her head. She wiped the scissors along the cape before going back in, the smooth slices of the metal sending shivers up his spine. 

"I feel like things are weird between us…" she murmured, still focused on what she was doing. She avoided his gaze, and Spencer could see that she was finished, so he put a hand over hers and pulled it away. He didn't want her to stop touching him. 

She moved to get off his lap, but Spencer held her tighter. Her belly twitched under his touch, but instead of fighting him she simply deposited the scissors and comb on the floor before taking the cape off him. Letting it fall to the ground, she grabbed a fluffy brush and began sweeping stray hairs from his neck. 

"I know you weren't drunk when you kissed me, and that you had second thoughts because of Emily and Rose." Honey spoke quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the brush tickling his skin while he kept his on hers. 

"I don't want you to fix me," she declared, strength returning to her voice as she tossed the brush onto the sink. Her hands landed on his shoulders where she sat on her side on his lap. 

Honey moved enough to bring one thigh over his spread legs, straddling him. Her eyes blazed as she watched him, her back arching just enough for him to feel under his heavy hands. Spencer swallowed down a lump in his throat as she gathered up the courage to continue. He knew she had more to say. 

"I'm not just some sad widow looking for a man to come along and take me away from my grief." She was closer now. Charged air crackled between them as she licked her bottom lip and pulled it between her teeth. 

"I'm leaving in a few weeks," Spencer reminded gently. "I don't have time to fix you, anyway."

Honey chuckled and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. She nodded to herself, "I'm well aware…"

She clicked her teeth and gave him those same hooded eyes she had the night before, blush flooding her cheeks. "I also know how boring it can be here without cell phones or the internet. Three weeks is a long time to do nothing, or try to pick up girls in a small town bar who live to gossip… and want more than a hookup."

"It's a lot of effort," Spencer agreed. The air was so thick between them, he couldn't help but wonder where the bomb was going to go off. She was hard to read, but he was beginning to see what she was trying to say. 

Honey's palms smoothed over his chest, her breath picking up. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, seemingly deciding what to say. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again they were deliciously dark. 

"I could keep you company," she murmured, her voice dripping with heady need and nerves, like he might say no. "Give you something to do in the meantime, some stress relief."

Spencer adjusted beneath her, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't getting to him. That damned scent of citrus and saltwater, those shy nervous eyes, and her curvy stunning body on his cock was almost enough to take her right there. 

"What do you get out of it?"

Honey smiled sweetly, which only made him want to shove her against the wall even more. She leaned in, her breasts pressing against his chest as her nose nuzzled against his. Her lips hovered just in front of his as she whispered, "Three weeks of good sex and an escape from all the shit I'm dealing with outside of my apartment.

"You don't like me and I don't like you very much either," she continued, her thumbs rubbing along his collarbones as her gaze flicked to his lips and then back to his eyes. "I think we can find a way to take that out on one another."

Spencer couldn't help the wolfish grin that peeled open across his cheeks. Keeping one hand on her hip, Spencer tangled the other in her hair and pulled her quickly to him. Their lips crashed together, a surprised but excited yelp escaping from Honey's chest. 

She was stubborn to the core, and Spencer found himself battling her for dominance right away. She gripped the lapels of his flannel, pulling him closer. Her strong thighs cradled his lap, and Spencer hooked a few fingers under her knee to tug her flush to his hips. Barely restrained moans echoed between them. His fingers tightened around her thigh, his cock straining in his pants until he couldn't take it anymore with her grinding down on him. 

Spencer lurched forward, jostling her onto his hip. She never let up, her fingers tangling into his hair as she nipped his bottom lip. Her scent consumed him, drowning him in the fresh smell of the ocean and the need emanating from her. He carried Honey out of the bathroom and straight toward the bed in the corner. He wanted her now, and now that he had permission he was going to take her. Her thighs clamped down around his waist, but he managed to untangle her and toss her onto the mattress. 

Her breasts bounced as she landed, and he descended on her in an instant. They clashed together in a flurry of teeth and tongue, pushing and pulling as she shoved his flannel from his shoulders. Spencer tossed it to the ground, his hands palming her tits through her shirt as she went for his belt. 

She managed to get it unlatched just as the phone on the bedside table rang. Spencer pulled back enough to glance over at it, but she just pulled him close and moved onto his neck. 

"Shouldn't you get that?" Spencer asked, his voice embarrassingly breathy. Honey’s insistent nipping along his throat was driving him crazy, but the shrill tone of the landline kept breaking through.

She groaned in irritation, wiggling her hips for more friction, “If it’s important, they’ll call again.”

Spencer was about to take that as a good enough answer when her palms flattened on his chest and suddenly he was pushed onto his back. Honey mounted him in one swift move, gripping his jaw tightly in her fingers and kissing him furiously. She did it like she was winning a fight, and he was more than happy to battle with her.

Gripping her hair, Spencer gave an experimental tug that elicited a beautifully dirty moan. Her hips jerked, grinding down on his clothed length. The phone faded into the background of his mind as it stopped its sharp crying through the apartment. Honey’s tight, smaller body arched with every swipe of his palms along her skin, sweet excited groans bouncing between them as they explored one another.

Her warm skin blazed under his hands as he threaded them under her shirt. Bringing them down, Spencer smoothed them over the curve of her ass and thighs, pulling her flush to him once more. The way her hips swirled over his dick drove him wild, the thought of himself inside her doing the same thing nearly made him burst in his pants.

Spencer sat her up, his palm spreading wide along her spine. Each breathy exhale and sigh made his vision blur, but he wanted to see her. All of her. He wanted to watch as she fell apart for him, piece by piece.

Honey didn’t fight him as he ran his fingers under her tiny tank top. She worked with him, arching her back and lifting her arms as he pulled it up. Her breasts bounced free from the thin fabric as she threw the tanktop to the ground. Spencer went straight for them, one hand palming her perfect tit as his lips went straight for the other nipple. 

She gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, her hips grinding down on him. Swirling around with his tongue, he pinched her other breast, swiping a soft thumb over as a weak apology before doing it again.

“Fuck,” she groaned, her hips working for some relief through her shorts. He was painfully hard, wanting nothing more than to toss her to the ground and fuck her hard with little prep, but he also wanted to savor it. 

Honey’s fingers tangled tightly in Spencer’s hair, clutching him tightly to her chest as she moaned wantonly. She whimpered, low and needy, "Spencer, please, fuck!"

"Take off your pants," he commanded as he pulled off her with a soft pop. 

Honey went for her button when the phone rang again. She sighed, her chest patched red and blotchy as she leaned over him to snatch it from the nightstand. 

"No, no, come on," he begged pitifully as she pushed him into the mattress. She sat on top of him, her hand on his chest as she looked at the screen. She panted, her chest heaving. She was fucking stunning. 

"Shut up," she told him playfully, grinding down on him for good measure. Spencer set his twitchy hands on her thighs, squeezing and bucking lightly to keep some of the friction going. Honey held the phone up to her ear, “Thunderbird Inn. How can I help you?”

Honey’s dark eyes fixated on him, her head cocking to the side, “Oh, hey, Emily.”

Feeling suddenly caught, Spencer’s eyes went wide, but then he squinted at her as she listened to the other end. She waved a hand in front of her face and shook her head, “I’m fine, really. I just got back from a run.”

Spencer was growing restless, so he trailed his fingers up lightly. Brushing them along her exposed skin, he delighted in the way she shivered and goosebumps appeared as she spoke to Emily. Her chest puffed out, eyes fluttering shut. She was truly beautiful, strong and unyielding like a port in a storm. 

As he palmed her breast, she covered his hand with hers, holding him in place. Her eyes had a devilish glint as she watched him caress her body. His other palm smoothed up her side, tickling along her collarbone before he decided to experiment and see what she liked. Spencer spread his fingers over the column of her throat, getting up on one elbow to brace himself. 

She watched him through those hooded eyes, lashes fluttering as she struggled to stay focused on the phone call. His hand flattened over her windpipe, tightening just enough to see her cheeks flush bright red, then he let go, opting instead to trail his fingers down her chest as though he didn’t know what he’d done. But he knew now what he wanted to… just how open she was to other things.

“How about this?” Honey gulped, taking a deep breath. “I’ll call his room to see if he’s there and then patch you through? I’ve got to put you on hold, though.”

Spencer shook his head, but she just squinted down at him. “Sounds good. Give me a few minutes.”

Honey pressed a button on the phone and pointed out toward the window, “I’ve gotta get ready for tonight, and you need to talk to your sister.”

“She’s not my sister,” Spencer grumbled. He fell flat on his back, mourning the loss of his boner and soon to be release. Spencer got up on his elbows and flashed her a cheeky grin, “I’ll be quick.”

Honey shook her head, “Uh-uhn. You’re gonna fuck me the way I deserve, and to do that we need a bit more time.”

She rolled off him, plopping down on the mattress beside Spencer. Her body heat blazed against him, and he let out a pained breath as he eyed her breasts. Playfully, he reached out and patted one with the flats of his fingers, making her laugh. He couldn’t help but smile back, chuckling a bit.

“Fuck you the way you deserve?” he murmured with a furrowed brow and a grin. 

Honey nodded. “I didn’t stutter.”

Spencer laughed as he got up. He made sure to lean down and give her nipple one last light bite before he rose from the bed, and she made a delightful little cry at the feeling. He loomed over her as he adjusted himself in his pants, and she just lounged half naked on the bed and smirked up at him.

“See you later,” he muttered. Spencer leaned over the mattress and hooked his fingers under her knees, jerking her forward until she was nose to nose with him. “Wear something pretty, yeah?”

Honey smiled, and in a show of silliness he rarely got to see from her, she licked the tip of his nose and giggled. “Something with easy access?”

Spencer growled a bit and nodded, “I don’t have a lot of patience.” 

Her pupils dilated in a millisecond, her kiss-bitten lip quivering. Spencer gripped her jaw tightly and gave her a rough kiss, relishing in the desperate little moan that made its way to his lips. He pulled away and turned on his heel without looking back, and by the soft exhale behind him he was feeling pretty proud of himself. 

Maybe the next three weeks wouldn't be so bad after all. 

I was struggling to keep myself together. My whole body was a livewire after Spencer came to my apartment for his haircut. I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on my body, or his tongue on my chest. Light bruises littered my neck and all I wanted to do was press on them to feel the sting. 

Oh, if he fucked the way he kissed… I was about to be in big trouble. I needed the release, to fall into something that wasn’t my own pool of misery and let go. His heavy hands on me were the only real thing keeping me grounded the last few days. All I wanted was to touch him again and hear him make those deep guttural groans again. I have so much work to do on myself and my life, and this will be the one guilty pleasure I’ll have for a long while.

In reality it had only been a little over a month since I'd slept with Rico, but it felt like years after making out with Spencer. I was antsy, struggling not to think about just how toe curling it could have been if the phone didn't ring. Idly, I wondered what Emily wanted to speak with him so badly about, but ultimately decided it wasn’t my business.

I wasn't one for makeup, so I just opted to put some on my neck and keep my natural hair down and put on a sundress and some espadrilles. It was yellow with pink and orange flowers, landing just above my knees. I snagged a shawl in case the heat died down, and knowing we were going to a restaurant on the water that was more than likely. 

I stood before my mirror, fidgeting and feeling suddenly quite self conscious. I haven't been on a date of any kind in almost ten years, or had to worry if I looked good enough for one. It hit me how ridiculous I was being, worried if Spencer would like the way I looked when the first time he kissed me I was covered in sand and sweat. The man obviously wasn't picky. 

Michelle asked me to drive separately in case she and Holly wanted to spend some time alone together, so I grabbed the keys to my beat up Volkswagen bus and my purse, then made my way down stairs. 

Spencer waited outside my door, hands stuffed into his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He stood up straight as he spotted me, breaking out into a slow smile. 

"Holy shit," he breathed, his eyes raking me up and down hungrily. His hand reached out to touch the bright patterned skirt. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," I blushed like a fool. I waved to his outfit with a smile, "You clean up nice, Spencer."

He wore a simple buttoned up dark shirt with a red cardigan over it and khaki pants. His sleeve was bunched up under his watch, his freshly cut hair curled nicely with the product I'd put in it. He flashed me a crooked grin as he let go of my dress. 

Holding out his elbow for me, he leaned down and murmured even though we were the only two in the hallway, "You ready?"

I took a deep breath before threading my arm in his, "As I'll ever be."

Tucci's was about a forty minute drive down the coast. Spencer lounged in the passenger seat as I drove. We didn't talk much, but his hand rested heavily on my thigh the whole drive. I didn't push him away, and I didn't want to. Instead, I reveled in his heat and his thumb rubbing soft circles into my skin. 

The breeze danced through the windows, the warm summer evening turning the sky orange and dusty. We passed town after town on the lonesome secluded highway, until we were surrounded by trees and billboards. The fluorescent lights illuminated them in the coming darkness, and I didn't even realize I was speaking until I pointed at one. 

"Do you think that God reads the billboards?" I asked quietly, not even sure where it was coming from. 

Spencer glanced over my way and shrugged, "If He did, they probably wouldn't be there."

I wasn’t sure why, but I liked his answer. It fit him and the cynicism that permeated from his pores. Deciding to leave it at that, we instead flew down the highway to our forced get together with Holly and Michelle.

Tucci’s was busy for a Friday night at ten, people waiting in line outside. We spotted Holly and Michelle in the parking lot, with Holly standing a respectable distance away from her as Spencer followed closely behind me. 

Holly had made a reservation, so we were seated soon enough, earning a few glares from the walk-ins. Surprisingly enough, Spencer acted the gentleman even though I knew he had no interest in this date or me romantically. He held doors open for me, and pulled out my chair. When the wine came, he insisted on pouring it for me as well. 

I was never one to be told what to do, or taken care of, but I didn't mind this one bit. It was surprisingly…nice to not have to do anything myself. My nerves were on fire being in this setting anyways, in a restaurant on a dock, the ocean just outside the window we were seated by. It was nice not to have to make any decisions at the moment. 

My stomach swirled with nausea that made me take breaks from the conversation to nervously sip from my glass. Luckily, with Holly and Michelle fawning over one another it took a lot of pressure off Spencer and myself, and we mostly let them do the talking. There were so many people packed in the tiny restaurant. It was intimately lit with candles and red drapery along the walls. Even though the windows were open, welcoming a slight breeze, I found myself sweating by the time dinner was finished. 

This was how I was feeling when I thought I was pregnant, and the doctor told me it was just nerves. After multiple negative tests, I finally believed him, but sitting there trying to keep myself upright I cursed his diagnosis of anxiety and stress. 

I needed to get my shit together. A panic attack was the last thing I needed. 

The dock swayed with the water, and I rubbed a sweaty palm over the back of my neck to ease away some of my nausea. Spencer watched me curiously in between speaking with Holly and Michelle, who seemed to be having a good time and not noticing my mini freak out in a crowded place. 

There were couples all over, leaning over white dropped tables in beautiful clothes. They spoke in hushed tones, even Holly and Michelle, clasping hands on top. Champagne flutes glittered under the lights, the occasional clinking of silverware on ceramic accenting the gentle music playing. 

I missed Ernie… I needed him here, with me. I shouldn't be here. He should be here. He was the one everybody loved, and I was just the outsider who died with him that night, her body returning to shore. 

I ran a shaky hand through my hair, trying to console my body. It didn't want to cooperate, and as sweaty as I was, I pulled my shawl tighter over my shoulders while goosebumps broke out on my skin. Sucking in a wavering breath, I closed my eyes for a moment before letting it go.

A hand on my knee got my attention, and I glanced up to see Spencer pushed forward in his seat across from me, obviously the one touching me. His brows furrowed and he squeezed me gently, cocking his head to the side. 

I stared at him like a deer in the headlights, not sure of what to do. My legs begged me to launch from the table and run all the way back to Thunderbird. I didn't want to stop until I hit the bay and dove underneath the waves. 

"I could use some air," Spencer seemed to decide for me. He stood and folded his napkin before setting it on the table, then held out his hand for me. "Care to join?"

I stared at it dumbly until he rounded the table, his palm up for me to take. Spencer flashed Holly and Michelle a smile, "I don't know this place very well. I don't want to get lost."

My hand moved on autopilot, clasping his tightly. Spencer pulled me to my feet before leading me out of the restaurant, his fingers laced in mine. His gait never slowed, laser focused on the exit as he weaved through the traffic of people coming inside. 

The restaurant windows faced the water, but the entrance faced the parking lot with the dock wrapping around to the back. The walkway to the dock lay awash in fairy lights strung up between posts. The sun had dipped down behind the clouds, and now the small twinkling bulbs lit the way to the water. In my haze, I just let him lead me, trying and failing to keep my breathing under control. 

A hand carved bench sat at the end of the dock. Boats floated in the distance, easing through the water. The waves crested and fell in a natural time, the crash followed by the hushing spread of the water hitting the surface. Spencer guided me to the bench and sat me down. Kneeling in front of me as I watched through glassy, tear filled eyes, he untied my espadrilles and set them to the side. I didn't realize how much I was shaking until he took one of my feet and pressed his thumb into the arch and my body relaxed. 

"Just breathe," he murmured, watching me closely. His eyes held sympathy for me, but no pity. Tears streamed down my cheeks, grief I hadn't expected pouring through, but I refused to let myself completely fall apart. 

I clutched the shawl tightly around my shoulders. I leaned against the cool wood and closed my eyes, listening to the ocean and her beauty. The soft rocking of the dock was surprisingly a welcome feeling, lulling me into a safe place I hadn't been to in a long time. 

I thought of Isle of Honey, of Ernie. Long nights spent floating on top of the water, legs tangled together on the deck of the old schooner. We'd breathe in the scent of sex and the ocean, our hearts thumping in time together. I was in my safe place, with my safe person, just existing among the wild ferality of the sea. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered after a while. Spencer had long since moved onto my other foot, massaging tension gently from my body. I wiped at my cheek and chuckled bitterly, "I'm sure this is really sexy."

All I truly wanted from Spencer was an escape, a few moments to let go and forget about everything going on. I wanted my uncertainty to fade into the background, for my guilt to calm to a simmer when it constantly roared at a boil. 

Spencer made a face and set my foot gently on the dock. He eased himself on the bench next to me, his thigh touching mine, but he didn't move to hold me. I appreciated it. 

"Some guys are into that, you know?" he replied cheekily, giving me a wink and a smile. 

I sniffled through my laugh and shook my head, "So this is your turn on?"

Spencer huffed a bit, looking down at his hands. His voice was low and a bit sad. "That kinda thing takes a lot of time and trust. I don't find that much on the road."

I nodded. That trust was something I built with Ernie, but he never had the ability to be truly rough with me, which I had been fine with. Rico, on the other hand, was more interested in a quick barrel toward both our releases, and I didn't have the mental capacity to do much else. They had both been wonderful and attentive, and I would always be grateful for those experiences. 

I nudged Spencer with an elbow, offering a weak smile through my swollen cheeks and likely red face. "I'm a big fan of the color system, and my safeword is 'applejack.'"

Spencer chuckled. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close but not too tight. He was something to lean against during the storm in my heart, and I found myself snuggling into his side and pressing my palm to his chest. 

Cinnamon and bergamot flooded through my nostrils, accented by the salt of the sea as we sat there. A few errant passersby came down the dock, saw us, and quickly turned around. We paid them no mind, just listening to the waves and enjoying the quiet. 

"I haven't been on a date in ten years," I found myself saying. The ocean swallowed my words and took them out to the distance, but not before Spencer heard them. He pressed his cheek to the top of my head. "I know this wasn't really a date but… I don't know why it hit me so hard."

"Memories are like freight trains, Honey," he murmured. I felt him clear his throat, the soft rumble under my ear through his shirt. His fingers tightened around my arm. "You either know when they're coming on the schedule or you don't notice until the whistle blows behind you. Sometimes the whistle doesn't even blow, and it hits you."

I thought about that for a moment. He was right, and a part of me hated this broken man for knowing the broken part of me so well with so little effort. I wanted to hit him and yell and scream, but the broken part of me knew that was exactly what the broken part of him wanted to do too.

"That's the most depressing shit I've ever heard," I said instead. 

The laugh that bubbled from his chest made me smile before it even broke the surface. Spencer guided a hand over my hair and kissed the top of my head as he chuckled to himself. 

"Yeah, well, it's all I've got," he said as he pulled away. 

Spencer leaned back on the bench, legs splayed and his arms laced over the edge. The fingers of one hand ran light lines up and down my shoulder. It only made my body relax more, melting into his side and reveling in the comfort. 

Boat horns sounded in the distance, calling out to other ships in the night. The spotlight from a lighthouse down the coast cut through the darkness, pointing out toward the black. It was guiding people home, back to the land. 

Sitting there, I realized I didn't want to be on the land anymore. Thunderbird would always be the place that took me in and became my home. For far too long I'd treated it like a tomb, my final resting place after a lifetime of mistreatment and uncertainty. 

When I lost Ernie, I stopped moving forward. The lighthouse in the bay became my siren beacon, my way of screaming that I was the safe place now. I would keep everyone safe, I would guide them home. They could come to me for anything they needed, and I would provide. 

Sitting then in the arms of a stranger who'd defended me and saved me, and I'd saved him, it hit me. I wasn't the port in the storm. I wasn't the place to go to escape the monsoon, the hurricane. 

I was the eye of the storm. The place where all this started was with myself, and how I reacted to the world around me. I let myself loose from my tiny fishing town in Maine and descended hurricane Honey upon Thunderbird. I was a wild animal full of rage and regret, and they calmed me to a raindrop. I'd always be grateful to them for that. 

The hurricane was back, and after ten years she wanted to rage again. I needed to find a middle ground. I needed to become the rain after the drought, not devastation or starvation. 

I didn't have to leave Thunderbird forever. I'd spent ten years fixing up our old schooner, repairing the damage caused by the storm that ruined my life. It was almost finished, and in a way, so was I. I could do what Ernie and I always dreamed of, and sail off toward that horizon in hopes of swallowing the sun. Then, I could follow the lighthouse back home. 

"Hey," I started slowly, easing my way out from under Spencer's arm. He looked down upon me gently, waiting for my direction. "You wanna get out of here?"

Spencer smiled. "Lead the way."

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: Oh, I'm so excited for the sex next chapter... You have no idea.

Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid @moyo5653 @comfybabie

#routine maintenance #inn keeper reader #spencer reid #smurphyse #smurph writes #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #cm fandom #mgg #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/y/n #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #fic: routine maintenance #spencer reid imagine #oc appreciation #oc fanfiction #ocfairygodmother #self insert

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

hi! can i request a beth harmon x fem reader please? just this sort of sweet moment between them where all the stress from the tournaments and everything that’s been happening melts away and everything is okay because they’re together.

i can never find any good fics of her and i love all the stuff you’ve written so i got really excited when i saw her on your list!

thank you so much!! ❤️

Thank you for requesting beth ❤🥺

My girl

Beth Harmon x fem!reader, reader is an author

Set before Russia, just a slice of life type fic

Warnings: some swearing

You drop your keys on the counter, taking your time to slowly toe your shoes off, watching Beth walk into the living room and settle in an armchair.

She'd been a little... distant at dinner, not fully tuned in, in a way you know she'd never be on purpose. The tournament stress is clearly sinking into her.

You turn on the Christmas lights you'd kept up, for months after the holiday season, opting to turn off the ceiling lights and let the fairy light glow filter through the room.

"Beth?"

She turns her head to you as you bend down beside the couch, perching your chin on the sofa arm to look up at her.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly.

Beth lets out a breath, shifting and stretching her legs out behind her. "Paris, Borgov, ...losing, and losing like that." She plays idly with your hands as she speaks. "Jolene's money, your money. Benny hating me."

She shakes her head. "I should've just said yes to those Christian funders."

You squeeze her hands. "Beth, it's okay. First of all, Jolene gave you that money out of her own free will. She wants you to go to Russia. And me? I just sold two stories to that publishing agency, remember? The money will come back. And... true friends always come back. So Benny'll be back, just give him time to cool off."

You move up to the armchair, Beth's soft giggle ringing as you huff and squish yourself into the clearly-meant-for-one-person armchair beside her.

"We're going to Russia," you tell her. "And," you drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. "You're gonna rip the board right out from under Borgov's sad little king."

Beth laughs, shaking her head. "I've gotta get through all the other Russians first."

"Fuck 'em. You're gonna take home the whole damn tournament."

She cups your cheek in one hand, tilting your head up to press a kiss to your lips. "Yeah, fuck 'em."

You slide out of her arms, grinning at the pout she gives as you stand up from the armchair. It's your favourite thing, being able to see all the cute little expressions and actions she doesn't show outside.

"I'm coming back," you promise. "I'm making tea."

"You're amazing," she says, smiling at you over the top of the chair.

You smirk. "I know. Music?" The radio crackles to life as you turn it on, recognising an song you know Beth loves, and you grin to yourself as she slowly rises from the armchair.

You sway slightly along with the song beat as you fill the kettle and search for your teabags, watching Beth dance her way towards you, holding up her closed fist as a microphone.

"What- can- make- me- feel this way," she punctuates each word with a dramatic movement.

You grin, knowing what's next.

"My girl..." Beth points her arm straight out at you, singing each harmony. She makes her way into the kitchen, looping an arm over your shoulder and kissing your cheek. "Talkin' 'bout my girl."

"Oh my god, this is boiling water, Beth."

"My girl!"

You shake your head, grinning. She's undeterred. You pour milk in with the tea, and toss in a little spoon of sugar.

Beth reaches out as you pass the cup to her. "Thank you," she says softly, smile crinkling her eyes.

You take a sip from your cup. "Anything for my girl."

You move back into the living room, Beth disappearing off somewhere.

"Y/n!"

You turn and see her holding up your book, which you'd just gotten properly printed.

"Can you read it to me?"

You take the book from her. "Haven't you already read most of it?"

Every chapter you'd write, she'd read. Beth was the first person to see the plot unfolding in your head, storylines stretching out and forming together. You'd sit there, clicking sounds ringing as you typed, and Beth would play chess games against herself as she waited for you to finish the next page.

You pull the paper out of the typewriter, the fresh ink allowed to rest on the table for just a second, before it's snatched up by Beth, eager to read after a new revelation on the previous page.

"Holy shit, Y/n."

"What?"

"That's genius."

You smile. "You think?"

"Yeah..." she trails off, eyes flicking across and down the page as she reads.

"Wait... fuck." She blinks up at you, evidently having finished the page. "What happens after?"

"You know it's gonna take like at least an hour for the next page right?"

Beth huffs. "Can't you just tell me? I know you already planned it out."

"Nope," you say, snorting as she groans into the couch.

Beth flops into the sofa beside you. "I mean, I know the story but I haven't read it all together and finished. Please, Y/n?"

She turns her sweetest expression on you, and you fold immediately.

"Fine, fine, sure," you say, setting down your tea. You settle into the couch, pulling your legs up beside you, then you open the book.

Beth nudges your foot, and you look up. "Thank you," she says. "I love you."

You smile. "Love you too."

I'm writing the requests a little out of order just getting any of the older ones out first. Short fic today but loved writing the fluff :))))

#the queen's gambit #queen's gambit #beth harmon x reader #beth harmon #my writing

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Summary: With new love and broken trust to navigate, the tension between Xaden and Violet is at an all-time high after the battle beyond the Athebyne outpost. Two months after swearing Xaden off romantically, Violet finds he has her pinned to the mat again. And he has no intention of showing mercy.

AN: As promised, here's my first Fourth Wing fic.

CW: Smut, language

Violet grunted as her back met the gym mat for the third time in thirty minutes. "Damn." She wasn't so sure everything that she just heard pop was actually supposed to pop. "You know, I get thrown around enough during my daily training as it is. I don't need you beating me to a pulp after hours."

"Pull yourself together, Violence. If I realized just how sloppy you had gotten I never would have neglected this part of your training."

Negligence may not be the most accurate description of their current problem. The truth was that she had been brilliantly evading him since she had started picking up the tells her own dragon gave when he sensed his mate and her rider were near. Violet had seen Xaden face-to-face only a handful of times since his graduation and this was the first time in the two months since the wyvern attack she had let him close enough to spar. She thought it had been long enough—that her mind was set enough on the logical path that her leniency tonight wouldn't do any harm. She desperately needed to get her brain and her body on the same page when it came to Xaden Riorson. Because Violet Sorrengail never made the same mistake twice. She was not ending tonight by dragging Xaden to her private room.

And she was definitely not fucking him on the gym floor. Or any floor for that matter.

Eyeing her scattered daggers—the short blades he'd personally commissioned for her and had her take straight off his vest when he was still her supposed enemy—she shoved at his chest for the third time that night with every intention of starting again. He didn't budge. "Tell me what to do, Violet," he groaned. "You've been treating me like a damn plague every time I come back to the college with Sgaeyl."

"You said you'd give me the space I need, Xaden. Don't tell me you're already back to lying to me."

"I never—" He growled, his arms buckling on either side of her hips. "Fuck."

The steady tension of the night began to build far too rapidly for her comfort as need coiled within her. She tried to Ground herself. Tried to reach that door that would seal off the waves of Tairn's shameless arousal. But with Xaden practically trembling between her thighs she knew the night wouldn't be easy on either of them. If they tried to resist that urge rippling down the bond. They needed to separate now, or what Xaden was asking for she'd be all too willing to hand over. She hadn't tested his vow in those two months because she was terrified he would make a fool of her. But the logical part of her recognized he wouldn't hurt her again. It was a fear of her wounded heart. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that fear would only get her killed faster?

Her resistance shattered and she pressed a hand to his bare chest. "Xa—"

"Thank the gods." His mouth claimed hers in a brutal kiss as his shadows skittered out to clear the last of the unsheathed daggers off of the mat as he gripped her wrists, pinning them together under one hand and effectively immobilizing her upper body. "Thank the fucking gods and dragons too selfish to shield."

"You're welcome, Silver One." She stiffened, thinking back to how long it had been since she felt Tairn so prominently. "I can not fully protect you and see to my mate if you are at odds with her human."

This was a fucking setup. One Xaden was equally aware of if his smirk was anything to go by. "Meddlesome mother hens."

"Indeed they are." He hunched over her once again, his smirk somehow broadening as he used his free hand to lift the hem of her shirt, guiding it up to her bust as he trailed the path of his hand with those sinful lips. "So fucking beautiful," he praised her. Violet whined, giving a half-hearted attempt to free her wrists before he tightened his grip. "Just let me give you this, Violet. While we still have the chance." Before this war came to such a height where they'd never catch a moment alone. She nodded, aching for the familiar heat of his mouth on her skin. It had been a hard two months. Dipping his head, he trailed his lips from the top of her neck down to her collarbone. His hips shifted to pin hers as she tried to lift them to grind against him. It was fucking torture, feeling his hard body against hers and being able to do absolutely nothing about it. "Patience, Violet."

She glared at him, reading the slight taunt beneath his own need. He released her hands to peel her out of her top, chuckling when her free hands moved straight to his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers as he moved on to the buttons on her pants.

She followed that mental stream of night that she hadn't touched in months, likely broadcasting every emotion running through her at the moment. "I'm going to take my sweet time with you tonight, Violence. I'm gonna have you begging for me by the end of it all."

Fuck. "I don't beg," she retorted.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a wolfish grin as he peeled her pants down her legs to expose her damp panties. "We'll see about that." With that final piece of clothing gone, his attention returned to keeping her from gaining an edge, his shadows gathering to pin her arms again, leaving both of his hands free to touch her. She didn't bother fighting them. "Good girl."

She bit her lip, trying not to show what those two little words did to her. She honestly wasn't ready to identify it. The next time their eyes met she knew it was pointless. He could always read her too well. Still, he spared her the embarrassment of saying anything about it, instead reaching between them to stroke his thumb over her clit, two fingers dipping between her legs. "Fucking soaked," he growled out loud, shifting back until his head was between her thighs, those soft lips trailing up each leg as he positioned them over his shoulders. He was going to ruin her with nothing more than a stroke of his tongue. How the hell was she supposed to think of anything but this the next time she was training with another Rider on the mats.

Two fingers curled inside her and she gasped, the muscles in her legs tight enough to snap as Xaden hit that spot he knew made her see stars. And as that smirking mouth closed over her clit... despite what little time they had before everything fell apart, Xaden hadn't forgotten a single thing about how to please her. "Xaden, more." 

He kept his pace, his mouth still pressed flush against her as he returned his attention to the mental bond. "Are you asking or telling me? Because you're in no position to be giving orders, Violence."  He was moving unbearably slowly now, maintaining her need for him, but failing to bring her closer to orgasm. The bastard planned to edge her.

"This is my punishment?" she panted out. "This is what I get for avoiding you? Pinned down and edged until you get bored of the game?"

He raised his head to look at her, his gaze drowsy with his own lust as he met her eyes. "Violence, don't you know? This is a game I'll never grow bored of. Seeing you squirm is far too delightful and we both know you can't hold out for long."

He returned to his task, each stroke clearly at his leisure. "Now be my good girl and ask nicely for what you want."

There was the line in the sand. Xaden Riorson was a patient man, more than willing to take his sweet time with her tonight. He delighted in the game he created and didn't find any difficulty in a slow indulgence. She was the only one suffering tonight. 

Unless she folded.

Begged.

She twisted her wrists against his shadows, jolting the next time he brought her to the edge of release. "Xaden, please." 

He broke away and she whimpered. "Please what?"

"Please let me come." 

Satisfaction rippled down the bond between them and her body went white-hot with mounting pleasure. She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming as she finally fell over the edge, rolling her hips as best she could with her legs still slung over Xaden's broad shoulders. "So. Fucking. Beautiful," he murmured, silently ordering the shadows holding her to release. She could taste herself on him as he swept her into another feverish kiss, his fingers unwinding her braid and fisting in the silver and black of her hair. "I'll never get enough of you, Violet." He pulled away just long enough to ease out of his own leathers before seeking her mouth again. Knowing he'd be off balance for a few seconds, she took advantage of the time she had to get him on his back. "Vi—" Her name faded to a soft curse as she stroked the hard length of him. "Dirty tricks, Violence."

"Well-earned on your part, I'd say. You had your fun," she purred, sinking down on his cock inch by inch. Gods, she had missed that feeling. "Now it's my turn."

One hand anchoring at her right hip, he raised his other to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. "You want to ride me, sweetheart? Go right ahead. One way or another I still get to watch as you shatter on my cock." The words sent a shudder through her and he grinned as her nails bit into his shoulders. His hand fell away from her breast, his fingers rethreading in her hair and tugging just enough to sting her scalp. "Go on, baby. Ride me."

~~~~~

His few memories of watching Violet come for him didn't do the actual sight of it justice. No memory could hold the exact expression on her face as she reached the edge of her climax or the little sounds that left her when she realized she needed help getting there. No memory could quite hold the arch of her body or the scent of her skin as she pressed up against him. And no memory could quite hold this moment. His Violet, half-asleep on his chest as they both came down from the rush of what they'd done.

"I'm never going to be able to go to my hand-to-hand training again without thinking of this. You're a terrible influence, Xaden Riorson." 

He chuckled. "I suppose a gentleman would have taken you to a bed first. But I never claimed to be such a thing. At least this way you'll remember who you belong to when your squadmates start ogling you during training."

"I'm not an object," she growled, sounding about as violent as a kitten as exhaustion continued to weigh on her.

"No. But you're still mine. Just as I'm yours, whenever you're ready to claim me again."

The fog of lust that triggered this all was behind them. And in its place was an understanding. He had hurt her, but he would never make that mistake twice. This could be the time they start fresh, but only if she was ready. "Well, Violet?"

"I'm ready, Xaden."

#fanfiction #fourth wing #violet and xaden #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #xiolet #this is only a minor obsession nothing to be concerned about #who am i kidding xaden is daddy

[shojislady]

2. SO SCANDALOUS

"-ess.. princess. wake up, we need to get ready. kacchans making pancakes right now."

grumbling, she turns over to look at her clock. it's 10:15am, izuku let her sleep in a bit. today, the class was going out to the mall then the arcade to have class bonding time. with everything that's gone on, from the USJ incident and the tension from the sports festival, to the fight with stain (where endeavor unfairly took credit, causing the girl to have a "slight" hatred for him), and even the final exams, having to go against All Might with Bakugo and Midoriya, it was just a lot to handle. they're just kids, and kids need breaks.

walking into the bathroom, the girl began her daily morning routine.

"damn.. i look ROUGH..!" she said as she looked in the mirror. her bonnet looked as if it was trying to run away, her tank top was all twisted up, right boob was up in russia while the left one stayed home in america. she had eye boogers all around and her angel bite piercings were no where to be found.

she slept good.

"you know what... let me just wash my face right now and i'll do everything else after i eat."

her face care routine consists of ; black african soap, witch hazel, hydration drops, and a bit of coco butter.

finishing up and putting away her stray boobs, she found one of bakugos stolen hoodies and made her way downstairs.

(i would just like to add that she sleeps in boxers so yk that ass lookin fat 😋)

"good morning guys!" she greeted everyone, with a slight smile and wave. almost everyone was up, with the exception of a few people.

"hii y/n!"

"mornin bestie!!"

"Good Morning, Y/n! Glad to see you awake!"

and so on and so forth

"mornin angel.. im making your pancakes right now, but there's bacon on the tiny burner and i made u a tiny omelette. those burner thingies really come in handy, you know?"

"its a heating tray, katsu. and yes, that's why i bought them." she bought them for holidays like christmas and american thanksgiving, but since there's 21 kids living in one dorm, it's used more than expected.

"is that my fucking hood?? i've been looking for that for weeks!" bakugo exclaimed, turning around to give the girl a plate so that she could fix her food. "when the hell did you even- whatever.. as long as i get it back."

(Spoiler Alert, he doesn't)

"erm.. anyways..! so guys, what time are we supposed to be leaving??" asked y/n, going to take a seat next to shoji.

"Well, we're trying to leave for the mall around 12:45 since it isn't far, then leave the mall no later than 4:30-5." yaomomo began to explain. "I was able to rent the arcade from 6:15 to 10:30, food and drinks included, along with lazer tag , and we get the option of going in the bounce area, so when we get there just let me know."

"damn yaomomo... i knew you was stacked but DAMN!!"

"ong, bro's LOADED.."

"i'm calling you if i need to bailed out of jail."

"honestly guys it's not much, i just want us to have fun and relax as a class while being safe!" yaomomo said with a small smile on her face. she was literally loaded, like pockets so deep they could fit 3 gallons of milk each, pockets so swole they need an ice pack, pockets so fat they need they own TLC show type rich. but even so, she didn't like to flaunt her wealth. she'd rather use her money to pay for gifts and events for her friends, rather than to flex some diamond earrings or a gold necklace. She's still a teen girl though, so she still loves to go shopping. The girl is really just happy that she's found friends that actually love her for her, and not for her money.

"you're so cute yaomomo! i love you!"

"well thank you y-"

"if anyone, i mean ANYONE fucks with you, call me. these hands are rated E for Everyone. my fists are activists. i dont care if they're old, young, tall, short, fine, ugly, gay, straight. I believe in equality, and with equality comes equally distributed ass whoopings jus-"

"OK, n/n! i think momo gets how much you love her! since you're done eating can u help me?" midoriya interrupted the girls small rant.

"you gotta face the consequences of last night huh? you should've listened to me, but yeah i'll help!"

"you dont have to rub salt on the wound!" he whined. "i'll get stuff and meet in your room again?"

"sounds like a plan, izuku!" she replied, getting up to grab her plate and bring to the kitchen.

"OoOh y/n~" jirou began to tease. "last night? your room AGAIN? what scandalous activities have you been up to?"

"chill kyo, its not like that! he messed up his hair on his own and we always hang in my room bc its more.. welcoming.. then his."

"i know, y/n! im jus messin' with ya."

with her plate in hand, y/n walked into the kitchen where bakugo resided. he was cleaning the and putting away the dirty plates before he started to soak the pans.

"so, the nerd fell asleep in your room again huh?" he asked, washing a plate.

"yeah, he started to doze off a little while after you left, so he slept with me."

"i dont know why you guys dont just ask eachother out yet. you two are basically in love with eachother."

"katsuki, you know how i feel, and you know how zuku is. im pretty sure if he would act the same way with the rest of the class as he acts with us if he just trusted them more." she informed, getting ready to wash her plate before bakugo snatched it.

"don't even try it." ever since they could crawl, they've never let the girl lift a finger. hungry? chef katsuki at your service! scraped your knee? Dr.deku to the rescue! and yes, they know that she's the perfectly capable and well off to do these things on her own, but why should she when she has two men to do it for her?

"anyways. we've all known eachother since literally birth. i see things, i observe things. you two are literally inseparable. im pretty sure y'all first words were eachothers names. you know how you act around him, you see with your own two (or four) eyes the way he acts with you, and im pretty sure he peeps it too. just ask eachother out already and stop being pussies for fucks sake!"

"oh my gosh?? shut the fuck up?? you're so damn loud??" she said, slapping him in the back of his neck.

"aye. try me again and we gotta tussle. i'm not deku. i'll will beat the black off you. i strike so much fear into your melanin pigmentation that it will come to me."

"whatever katsuki, u can run me my ones later, i gotta go help zuku now."

"ight then angel, u better be ready. see ya later."

with that, she finally left the kitchen and headed towards her dorm to meet izuku.

.*•

"finally.." the boy sighed. it's now 11:45 am, and they (she) just finished detangling, moisturizing, and somewhat styling his hair. at this point, her fingers and wrists were tired, her back was aching, her feet were sore, and she had the very violent urge to go back to her black roots and pop this nigga with the comb.

"I know damn well YOU not heavy breathing like you did some work. all yo lazy ass did was sit there and watch Netflix. YOU COULDN"T EVEN HOLD THE DAMN SPRAY..."

"I'm sorry, ma. thank you so much, I should've listened to you last night. now do you already have clothes ready? or do you need to pick something out?" he asked, pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back.

".. you better be so lucky i love you. but yes, i need to pick. have u chosen?"

" yup, right before I came to wake you up. so i'll help you if you want?"

"yes please"

taglist: @ast4rg1rl

I FINALLY DID IT YALL..

and i already started the next chapter🙏🏾

well i split this chapter up into 2 to make things easier on me and y'all!!

so if its not out by next week then i'll post something embarrassing 🙏🏾

BUT ILL BE IN DUBAI FOR A WHILE SO JULY 13th IS MY DEADLINE

anywho

when i show outfits and stuff they're just there for ppl like me who can't visualize that well <3

WELL

UNTILL NEXT TIMEE

#bnha midoriya #bnha smau #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smau #mha iida #mha fanfiction #shojislady #mha bakugou #mha deku #deku midoriya #izuku x reader smut

[poggieking3]

piping hot take! i do not really like PTSD being thrown around with the main 4 (mario, 3, 4, and meggy). i have C-PTSD so i can say shit on this. 4 nearly DIED in that castle and was left traumatized, meggy was mentally AND psychologically tortured for AT LEAST a month straight, mario has his own demons i'm SURE, and 3 is on his way getting more trauma. give these guys a BREAKKK they've gone through way too much, how much else are they going to take.

whole fucking rant under the cut

like, okay please don't get me wrong here. i like puzzlevision, i actually really like him. he is interesting, his character his interesting, i love his character design, his personality. i fear that this mini series will end up having 1 or multiple of the main 4 getting traumatized, and then have it never touched on again. this happened to meggy DEADASS like her trauma was never mentioned again after western spaghetti. wren easily fucked her up for LIFE. and it's just? forgotten...?

like holy shit i wish PTSD was handled more accurately in this series, especially as of recently. i like how melony's was handled. she was grieving deeply for axol and helped herself cope by adopting her pet axol jr and taking care of it, and keeping axol's memory alive. meggy was grieving deeply for desti and trained hard to fulfill desti's wish and win the splatfest, also keeping desti's memory alive. 4's castle trauma also was done right. bro was having a whole bipolar manic episode and was SUFFERING from his own nonexistent self-worth and self-esteem, and was taken advantage of completely by puzzlevision. he watched EVERYTHING around him crumble. he watched HIMSELF crumble and was an outside witness to it, with no control. then, meggy being tortured and killed over and over and OVER again is quickly forgotten about, just like that???

i love PTSD representation in media. i cherish it. it makes me feel seen. i'm just. upset how wren fucking RUINED meggy's life by torturing her over and over, killing her, making her lose her sanity and trust, and then it's. never mentioned again. she has hands down gone through THE WORST of the entire cast. i fucking know what it's like to have my life ruined by people, multiple people in my damn case. i did not go through what she did, but if my trauma was cast off to the side after the movie it occurred in i'd be MAD for sure!

i've talked about how i'd handle meggy's trauma. after wren broke her fucking mind, she'd be coping EXTREMELY poorly because of how much she endured. she'd be inconsolable. she'd be emotionally unstable and lash out. she'd feel threatened by tiny inconveniences because they'd remind her of what wren put her through. she'd be terrified of male inklings. she'd have CONSTANT nightmares since every day in that simulation, she woke up in bed remembering each fashion wren killed her in. she'd pat her chest and stomach, scared she got shot again. she'd have panic attacks hearing guns go off. something as small as a southern accent could set alarms off in her head.

if i had a nickel for every time meggy's life was threatened by a villainous man hellbent on scarring her for life, i'd have 2 nickels, which is weird how it happened twice. she wasn't even safe ON HER OWN VACATION?

i just don't get how the movie pretty much made her suffer repeatedly and there's nothing as small as a reference to her trauma in the current episodes? we saw her fight off wren in that tier list 3 and 4 made together because 3 said she has plot armor. but that's it!

put the solar system bitches in a series of happy, wholesome filler episodes and PRONTO. give these guys a trillion dollars in compensation each. imma be real upset if, after the puzzlevision series, the trauma relating to it is never heard of again, ESPECIALLY given that puzzlevision's been a prominent threat for a solid year now

luke and kevin i love you both saur much i just. clenches fist to myself.

#smg4

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

☆I Need You☆

I know my girl @mjtheartist04 is going through a rough patch, and I wanted wife's spirits to be lifted up as we reach the holiday season!! I hope you don't mind a very quick drabble and doodle I wanted to give you in hopes of helping out, boo! 🥹🩷🩷

♡♡♡

Tired. Rika was tired. It felt odd to her to finally admit it, but she couldn't just deny it and keep her head up anymore... It felt damn near impossible.

It felt like the village was against her in that moment, she knew how upset and impatient they were beginning to grow the more she showed up empty handed without any sign of finding out the issue with the small town. Flocks of sheep were growing smaller and smaller as winter grew, and a few people had begun going missing even.

The dirty looks she'd get, the silent treatment, hell, just the other day someone straight up told her if she didn't figure this wolf crisis out, she might as well leave and never feel welcome enough to come back.

She stood in the dark, the cold, head tilted up to the dark sky, watching fresh snow begin to fall melting wherever her warm foggy breath wafted in the air, and snowflakes tickled her skin and cheeks, rosey from the cold nipping at her skin. The heavy layers of her crimson cloak didn't seem to help the deep, chilling ache in her chest, that felt as though it grew thrice in size with each shakey breath she took.

She felt like falling on the mucky ground, taking her defeat and sitting on the front steps of the Inn with her head bowed in shame, yet she stood there, unmoving, like some part of her was still hopeful, one sliver of dignity keeping her knees from giving out already.

"What are you doing?"

The familiar voice behind her caused Rika to jump, but she didn't turn to look who it was. "I'm not really sure." She answered him after a pause. She didn't try to hide the dryness in her tone.

Genya only responded with a grunt, his frown deepening as he stepped toward Rika’s side, unable to control himself from taking a few glances at her before she would notice. He seemed skittish and nervous, like if he moved a single inch closer, she'd break.

Rika heaved out a sigh, bringing a hand up to her face and rubbing the bridge if her nose exhausted, still haven't even looked at Genya while he himself wasn't able to keep his eyes off of her. "I just don't understand."

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong anymore... I thought I knew what I was doing, but the more I come back from the woods every time with nothing, the more I realize that... I'm not cut out for this..." Genya could see the guilt she'd practically pried off of him and placed on her shoulders. The guilt of something she thought was her fault when it was his. When it should he him holding this weight and taking the accountability... If she'd even let him, he'd carry hers twice the way.

His throat felt dry now, looking away to the ground ashamed, but his throat felt closed, his body and mind fighting to tell her everything, to let her know that she wasn't in the wrong.

"I should leave." The second Rika said it, Geyna perked up immediately, mouth slightly parted as though to interject, but no sound came out other than a small noise of alarm. "Rika -"

"It's obvious the longer I here, the more unwelcome I'll become." She spoke, her voice growing more shakey and fast, like nervous rambling.

"Rika, please just -"

"If anything, I'm harming more people the longer I'm hear giving them false hope."

"Rika -" "After everything they've done, and this is how I repay them?"

"Hey."

Genya's voice grew bolder, stern, enough to get Rika to fall silent, finally looking at him, and she felt almost ready to cry. His eyes were locked in hers, his face contorted into something that looked like irritation, yet his dark eyes gleamed with care and worry. Rika’s throat felt tight, and she bit on her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

Genya seemed to think for a second before his hand came up to the hood of her cloak, tugging the fabric a little between two of his fingers. His gaze softened, a look Rika had rarely ever seen in him before, a slow smile creeping up his lips that made the ache in her heart start to feel like fluttering butterflies in her ribcage.

"Hey..." He said, softer now, tugging the cloak just enough for it to fall from her head and upon her shoulders, the waves of navy locks tumbling down left him almost breathless, moving his hand to brush away her bangs ever so slightly, his fingertips barely grazing her forehead.

"We need you more than you give yourself credit. Whether they see it now or later, we're lost without someone like you there to protect us. I'm lost without you. I need you."

Would she ever know how true those words were? Would she know how her even being here was both a blessing and a curse to him? This girl doing everything to protect many others from himself, only to save him from his predatory nature at the same time?

He slowly pulled himself closer to her, his lips gently pressing against her cheek for no longer than a second, before he pulled away.

The rough sensation pressing to her cheek was enough ti get an alarmed gasp. His lashes fluttered against the corner of her eye and his nose tickling the side of her face. Her eyes widening ever so slightly as the warmth where his lips once were bloomed into a very vibrant blush trailing along her face, causing her drooping ears to perk up even.

It felt almost inevitable to fight a small smile beginning to grow on her lips, blinking away the glossy tears pricking the corner of her eyes, a shakey sigh of relief escaping her lungs after the band of guilt and overlooking emotions seemed to snap. But instead of flooding from her, it felt as thought it all just... Melted away.

"There's my girl." He said, his hand dropping back to his side as he grinned, almost proud, yet it seemed to almost he thanking her if anything. "Now let's get inside. I don't need you catching a cold and make me spoon feed you soup for the next week." Genya spoke, turning on his heel and heading up back toward the Inn, stopping and waiting for Rika to follow.

"Well if I knew that was an offer I might’ve just stayed out here a little longer." She joked, hurrying after him close enough to hear the scoff that followed from him.

"Don't push your luck." He seemed to scold, but Rika could.hear the playfulness in his voice, and practically hear the ghost of a smile grazing his lips.

She suddenly didn't feel so tired anymore, or her feet felt heavy. She didn't feel alone, or that the world was against her, cause she wasn't going to face it by herself, not without Genya by her side.

And who better to face the world with than him?

#cherry rambles #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒 #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer genya #genya shinazugawa #kny genya #shinaguzawa genya #self inserts #self insert #demon slayer x oc

[starcrossedxwriter]

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this before, or if you’ve answered this, but has anyone ever asked Michael or Charlotte where the nickname Honeybee came from? I just thought of that and it tickled me cause how would they answer that with a straight face.

Ok I love this question and I hope you see this, anon! Sorry it took me sooo long but I wanted to write something out cause I thought this was so cute lol and to answer your question, they definitely didn't keep a straight face hahaha Michael's been on Graham Norton a couple times and his interviews were so cute and he is so funny so enjoyyyy!

***

“I’m very excited to have you both on the couch at the same time, Michael and Charlotte. Here to promote Creed III, which is in theaters next week. I’ve had you both here separately but this is a treat to have you both here,” Graham Norton offered, the studio crowd applauding the couple. 

“Thanks man, it’s always a good time here,” Michael responded, Charlotte nodding in agreement. 

“So Creed III out next week. Your directorial debut, which is awesome. Congrats to you, Michael. But I have to ask you, Charlotte, what’s it like being directed by your husband? Is that weird having him boss you around on set? Did you give him a hard time?” 

Charlotte laughed. “You know, actually it was pretty fun. Not sure how other people feel… working with their husbands but I loved it. You know we’ve been doing these movies and playing Bianca and Adonis for almost a decade. And as these characters have grown and evolved so have we and our relationship. So we have developed a short hand and ease on set with each other that made it easier. It also helps when your pillow talk is with the director,” she chuckled. “I kinda had an idea of the shots he wanted at times and could adjust to make sure I was doing my part to help him get it. Honestly, I just felt proud and so excited for my husband in real life getting to watch him achieve his dreams. I would just watch him sometimes on set and think 'damn, that's my man.' It was fun." 

“That’s really sweet. What’s the most annoying thing she did on set?” He asked Michael. 

Charlotte playfully raised her eyebrow as Michael rubbed his chin.

“You tryin’ to get me in trouble, huh??” He chuckled with a jokingly nervous energy. “Nah, she has always been like this but she is clumsy as hell - in character and in real life. So more than once, we'd get like a perfect take and then she'd just trip over like… air and we had to redo it."

Charlotte covered her face with her hand in embarrassment as Graham, the other guests, and the crowd laughed. 

“Is that true?” 

“1000%. I drop everything, I trip alllllllll the time. It’s pretty wild that it hasn’t happened more on red carpets and stuff honestly. And I break a lot of stuff too,” she added, her shoulders shrugging lightly. “I’m worse than our kids and we have twin boys so that’s saying a lot.” 

“Wow… so I imagine it’s gotta be weird giving feedback and getting it from your husband? How’d that go over?” 

“You know she’s pretty perfect so I never gave her anything other than glowing praise,” Michael interjected with his award-winning smile that had every woman in the crowd swooning. 

“Awww, that’s so sweet. And a complete lie,” Charlotte answered playfully, causing the entire crowd to laugh. “I will say, he was very good at giving constructive feedback but I could always tell what kinda feedback was coming just by how he addressed me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he never uses my first name. And we try to keep it professional on set so he calls me Els 99% of the time on set and at home. But if he had constructive feedback, he always called me honey bee instead of Els. It was like his tell. But yea if he pulled out honey bee, I knew it was to butter me up,” she laughed. “But the feedback was mostly positive.”

“Honey bee, that’s so sweet,” Olivia Coleman, one of the other guests on the couch added. 

“To be young and in love. None of the rest of us know anything about that,” Graham joked as the other guests had been married far longer than Michael and Charlotte. “I know Els is short for your middle name. Is there a story behind that nickname?” 

Michael and Charlotte shared a glance, Michael trying to stifle his laughter. However, Charlotte could not hide her own, immediately doubling over at the thought of sharing that origin story. They did not mind sharing details of their personal lives and relationship but that was one area they strayed away from.  

“I take it that story is not appropriate to share?” 

They both shook their heads as they laughed. 

“Nah, definitely not, definitely not. It started off as joke but then I liked it and it stuck,” Michael laughed. “That’s her name in my phone too.” 

“Meanwhile, he’s name is just Bakari in mine with a heart and ring emoji. He’s the romantic in this marriage.” She scrunched up her face playfully as he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek, causing a loud awww to echo through the crowd.

***

This was fun! Ask me more stuff like this, friends lol

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

[leiawritesstories]

Happy 500 followers!!!

Rowaelin prompt: Rowan and Aelin are neighbors who are VERY competitive over everything. They both think the other hates them (of course) until something semi-bad (nothing angsty, you angst gremlin!!) happens to one of them and all of a sudden the other is being super nice and helping them out.

I cannot wait for all these amazing Leia fics 😍😍😍

Love, goddess-aelin, because tumblr is dumb and I still can’t send messages from a sideblog 😘

thank you so so much @goddess-aelin 💕💕💕 i'll try to keep Frederick away but the endless fluff just makes him meaner, yk 😈

Word count: 900

Warnings: mentions of injury

Enjoyyyyyyy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of all the people Aelin Galathynius wanted to witness her stumbling awkwardly up to her front porch and trying to figure out how the hell to balance on crutches and unlock her front door, Rowan Whitethorn was decidedly not one of them.

Her next-door neighbor might be attractive, and she might enjoy ogling watching him work on his front yard when it was hot and he was shirtless, and she might leave her bedroom curtains only half-drawn at night knowing his bedroom faces hers, but she sure as hell did not want him to watch her fail at getting into her own damn house. She just knew he would tease her mercilessly about it and point out that he'd never had such trouble opening his front door.

One more point for him in their never-ending friendly neighborhood competition.

Unfortunately for her, no amount of wishing could have drowned out the unmistakable sound of Rowan's footsteps crunching in the gravel of her front yard landscaping. "Aelin? Do you need a hand?" To her surprise, he sounded...genuine?

"Yeah, if you could not stomp your huge man boots through the gravel that took me about fifty hours to rake into place, that would be great!" She beamed at him.

"Um..." He scratched the back of his neck. "I meant with your door, but if you're being serious, I can just--I mean--"

She'd never seen Rowan so lost for words, so she gave in and laughed. "I was mostly teasing, Whitethorn." She wobbled on her crutches and caught herself, swearing under her breath. "I...yeah," she sighed. "Can you unlock my stupid door so I can get inside and put my stupid foot up?"

"Sure." He took her house key, unlocked the front door, and even held it open for her as she hobbled inside, heading straight for the living room so she could prop her foot up on the ottoman.

"Thanks." She exhaled a relieved sigh as the pressure eased off of her injured foot. "Wait. What are you doing?"

Rowan backed slowly away from the kitchen. "I was just going to see if there was anything in your fridge, but knowing you, it's probably empty."

"Rude!" she gasped, throwing a small pillow at him. He batted it away easily. "My fridge and pantry are perfectly well stocked, thank you."

He smirked. "I wouldn't call wine, cheese, and chocolate well stocked, Galathynius."

"Oh yeah? What about wine, cheese, chocolate, dry goods, cooking ingredients, canned food, fresh produce, and leftovers, because I actually cook?" she challenged. "I dare you to check."

Wearing a knowing smirk, Rowan disappeared into the kitchen, opened and closed a few doors, and emerged with that smirk wiped clean off his face. "You must be a damn good cook if your leftovers smell that good."

Aelin's jaw dropped. "Whitethorn, did I actually die and go to heaven or are you giving me a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it," he sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"How sweet," she crooned. "Wait. Next question. Why the hell are you in my house?"

"You, uh, I had to unlock the door for you and I guess I just followed you inside to make sure you didn't fall over?" The faint stain of pink on his cheeks was far too endearing for Aelin's own good. Oh, she knew what her dreams that night would be featuring, she did.

"Well, I haven't fallen over, so you can head home now." She cleared her throat. "Um...thanks for helping me with the door."

It was Rowan's turn to gasp dramatically. "Am I dreaming, or did Aelin Galathynius actually thank me?"

"Don't get used to it," she griped.

He snickered. "Don't worry, I won't. Before I leave, though, do you want something to eat?"

"Hell yes," she groaned. "Shit, I hadn't thought about that and now I'm stuck on this couch until the painkillers kick in."

"You've got leftovers, I can just heat something up." He shrugged. "What do you want?"

She thought for a moment. "I'm 90% sure there's lasagna in the fridge, can you get me some of that?"

"Sure." He headed into her kitchen and rustled around for several minutes before reappearing with a whole Tupperware of leftover lasagna and a small bowl of salad. "Here you are, milady," he announced.

She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose at the salad. "I said lasagna, Whitethorn, not leaves."

He rolled his eyes right back. "And I thought you'd appreciate having a full meal, Galathynius." With a smug smirk, he added, "Eat it all up and I'll even get you ice cream."

Fork halfway to her mouth, Aelin paused. "That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Ae." He beamed, the portrait of innocence. "Deal?"

"You suck," she grumbled. "Fine. But you're getting me the entire container of ice cream, got it?"

"Anything for you when you're a good patient," he joked.

The lighthearted sentence suddenly brought a whole new line of fantasies featuring a certain gorgeous neighbor in a doctor's coat to life in Aelin's far-too-active imagination. Cheeks flushing, she tucked into her food, determined not to let Rowan sense the sudden change in her heartbeat.

She knew he'd immediately know where her thoughts had turned. She'd dreamed of what would happen next.

And she knew neither of them could return to their friendly neighborhood rivalry if they gave in to the tension crackling between them.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #answered prompt #leia's 500 followers thing #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic

[irkimatsu]

I don't think I made a single OC during my time in Matsu fandom, but Hazbin's gotten my furry wheels spinning, god damn you. I'm gonna ramble under the cut to try to get my thoughts straight.

-Almaz (Nina Sinclair), squirrel, non-binary. An 80's one-hit-wonder who died in their 30's after self-destructing and overdosing on drugs, is in love with Husk. I've posted plenty about them before.

-Richard Brenning (hell name still undecided), white rabbit, died in his 50's, pansexual male. An 80's star like Almaz, but unlike Mazzie he got more than fifteen minutes of fame as a singer, reality star, and general tabloid menace. The "controversies and scandals" section of his Wikipedia page is longer than Mazzie's entire page. Absolutely covered in sparkles. I know his outfit includes a sparkly purple vest with nothing underneath, and I keep wanting to give him a hat, but Husk already has a top hat so I don't know what to do there just yet. An egotistical little shitheel at first, possibly an Overlord? Almaz looks up to him but he's a bit insensitive about the whole "one-hit-wonder who self-destructed, don't they all" thing. He'll chill out with some character development and eventually settle down with Angel Dust therefore freeing Husk for Almaz to pursue

-Clara? Originally made her to fill a request but I think I'm keeping her. Still need a last name for her, she keeps her birth name in hell. A small black bear, looks more like a teddy bear than a wild animal. Mainly dresses in floral print. Grew up with Alastor and knows he enjoys hunting, but is willfully ignoring the nastier aspects of her "big brother in spirit" in an attempt to preserve her happy childhood memories of him. Was born after Alastor but also died later than he did, in her 60's, I think? If that request stays canon to my OC's then she has a thing for Husk, but Husk is immediately bitter of her connection with Alastor, so that's not going anywhere. Still no idea what landed her in hell. Is "willful ignorance of the fact that your best friend is a serial killer" a sin?

And Husk's family, all of whom I still need to name:

-Husk's ex-wife was a black woman who lived in the middle of nowhere with nothing but her dreams. She moved to a rapidly growing Las Vegas in the 30's to chase those dreams, and started singing songs she wrote in the same bar where Husk would play saxophone with various bands. The two hit it off beautifully and had a wonderful marriage, with Husk spoiling her with gifts and trips and encouraging her singing and poetry... until everything fell apart because Husk just couldn't get his addictions under control, no matter how hard he tried. It's not his fault, exactly... it just sucks for everyone involved. Don't know what would have landed her in Hell, but I do want her to see Husk again so they can try to get some closure. ...and the pronoun use here is a bit strange because I think she'd realize she's transmasc while in hell? I want something where Husk's spouse thought they were a cishet woman in life, but due to Husk's own experience with the Las Vegas queer scene he always had his doubts about that... but he couldn't risk outing himself, so he never said anything while they were alive. They'll meet again, Husk will take their new gender identity in stride and finally get to come out to them as pansexual, maybe they'll try to rekindle their romance but the spark is fully dead on the spouse's side, Husk desperately needs this closure before he can pursue anyone else. He doesn't expect his spouse to forgive him, he just wants them to understand he never wanted to hurt his family...

-Husk's older daughters, twin girls. Still highly undeveloped, except that they stay close for their whole lives and Husk utterly spoiled them as much as he could while he was still able to see them. Husk has participated in princess teddy bear tea parties, I will die on that hill. They were preteens/early teens when their parents divorced, and a year or two after that their mother stopped letting Husk see them because he's a drunk deadbeat piece of shit. I'm so sorry, Husk. They started families of their own, Husk has grandkids, but he has no idea because his daughters never tried to re-establish contact with him in adulthood. They have their fond memories of him, but also some really shitty ones, especially after an event I'll be talking about in a moment. It's complicated.

-Husk's younger daughter, who I want to flesh out for one horrible reason... the idea of Husk losing his daughter in an accident, blaming himself for it for the rest of his life regardless of what he could have done to save her, and sinking further than ever into the addictions that would ruin his marriage in short order. I'm so sorry for doing this to you, everyone who's involved. She's in Heaven now, and if Husk ever ascends there will be tearful reunions god damn it please

I haven't decided on species for Husk's family, but none of them are cats; the cat thing is specific to him for his manner of life and death, figuratively drowning in alcohol before literally drowning in a lake. Cats hate water, after all. The others don't have that connection to cats. I'll figure them out eventually.

#irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts

[apocalypseornaw]

Should've Known (1/3)

(NOT MY GIF)

Benny Lafitte x Reader (reader has nickname of Bandit. This will be a mini series with the break up first then how they got together then Benny coming to find her)

Human/Hunter Benny AU

When you have a confrontation with Benny's ex there's some truths you have to face

Andrea's words still rang in your ears as you moved around Benny's place, plucking up everything that belonged to you and throwing it into your duffle bag. Elizabeth was supposed to call you before he left the café but if she happened to get busy or if he slipped out without her realizing... well you didn't want him coming home to you leaving him. With any hope you'd be halfway to Sioux Falls by the time he realized you were gone.

How could you have been so stupid? How could you not have seen the fact that you were just a rebound? Of course he still loved Andrea....you were just an easy option when he'd ended up alone. You blinked away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes as you replayed the conversation with Andrea in your head.

She'd found you in a coffee shop in New Orleans, you'd driven there to meet Jo and Veronica, just your luck they'd been late. Normally you didn't let anyone else's opinion of you matter but you were fresh off a hunt, bruised to hell and back and had a fresh line of stitches across your shoulder that hurt every time you moved the wrong way.

You hadn't even known what the hell she was doing in Louisiana, let alone the exact coffee shop you'd picked to meet your friends in. "Andrea, I don't want to get into this with you" you'd tried the path to being the bigger person but the moment she'd said "You're a little broken shell of a woman. Your parents didn't even want you that's how poor Bobby ended up being saddled with you" you'd swung on her. You knocked her backwards over two tables and probably would've gone to jail had Jo and Veronica not shown up when they did.

"Woah! Bandit what the hell?" Jo was the first one in the door and grabbed you before you could go after Andrea again. "She's a fucking bitch and I'm gonna show her ass what this broken shell of a woman can do!" Veronica ever the calmer heads prevail was talking the batista out of calling the police and telling Andrea just to back off.

You were still struggling against Jo when Andrea got to her feet with the help of a few bystanders who were using offering assistance as a means to be nosy "Oh honey, did you really think Benny fell for someone like you after having someone like me?" "Are you just pissed he found someone better?" Jo asked loosening her grip on you when Andrea scoffed "Better? No. Easier? Yeah"

Jo let you go completely at that but about that time a cop car rolled by the window. "Shit" you muttered and Andrea smiled "Perks of being an heiress over a Neanderthal" you bristled at her words but didn't move from your spot "Why are you so damn hateful?"

She shrugged "Benny and I may have had our issues but I'm the one who'll always have his heart. Funny thing is you're here in New Orleans the same weekend he asked me to swing through Carencro" she glanced at the chain that had fallen out of your shirt and the ring that was on it before adding "Oh now that's just pathetic, is that the same ring he gave me?" You felt like ice water had been thrown on you "What?"

Jo could sense your change from anger so before Andrea could see you break she slid between the two of you "Get one thing straight Kormos. I don't give a damn who your daddy is, hurt her and I'll tear you and Benny apart"

With that Jo grabbed your arm and walked you out between her and Veronica. You managed to make it to your car before the anger and embarrassment filled tears started to fall from your eyes "He gave me the ring he gave her?"

Jo cut her eyes at Veronica before stepping in front of you "Cmon bandit" when you didn't respond to your nickname she called your name harshly and that was enough to make you meet her eyes "Do not put yourself down any. Andrea is a manipulative bitch, she got pissed that Benny wouldn't sell his bar and wouldn't talk Elizabeth into selling the café. She is jealous of you and even if he was dumb enough to give you the same ring, if he's dumb enough to not see how fucking amazing you are forget him! Come home to Sioux Falls. You know Mom and Bobby always have a place for you. We can go back to hunting together, Sam and Dean are always up for you hunting with them. You don't need Benny nor Carencro"

Jo and Veronica had ended up following you back to Carencro once you left New Orleans. Jo was the closest thing you had to a sister and she refused to let you be alone.

You looked over the place one final time to make sure nothing that belonged to you was left behind. After making sure you pulled the necklace from your pocket and placed it on the kitchen counter with the note you'd written Benny, Jo's idea to leave your favorite coffee mug next to the note to rub salt into the wound popped into your head so you did just that before laying your keys down next to it as well. You didn't need keys to his place, the café or the bar anymore.

You locked the door before shutting it behind yourself. Jo was sitting on the hood of your car but Veronica was already gone. "Where Roni go?" You asked and she gave you a small smile "She just got a head start. I told her she could go ahead, that I'd ride back with you. Figured we could do the diner and roadside attraction thing on the way back like we used to"

You nodded slowly "Ok" with one final look at the place you'd spent most of your time over the last couple years when you weren't hunting you climbed into your car. There wasn't anything left for you here, Elizabeth had confirmed that Andrea hadn't been lying...Benny had asked her to come to Carencro while you were gone. You didn't know why nor did you want to know. He was free to be with who he wanted and you could go back to your life before you'd ever met him.

Benny was tired when he got off his shift at the café. He was supposed to open the bar too but luckily Morgan had been able to go in so that meant he could head home and get some sleep. You were supposed to be back the following day from meeting Jo and Veronica, after Andrea hadn't showed up for the meeting he'd scheduled he was hoping she wouldn't wait to shown until you were back. He wanted this done quickly and without you knowing.

He walked into his place and knew something was wrong. It felt empty. The photo of you, Sam, Dean and Jo was gone off the mantle over the fireplace. Your extra boots weren't at the front door. He felt his stomach drop as he headed into the bedroom to check.

---------

He didn't know what he'd done wrong. You'd called him just that morning to let him know you'd made it to New Orleans safe and sound. You'd told him you loved him before you hung up and what? Decided to make the return trip and leave him right after?

He walked into the kitchen and spotted your coffee mug sitting next to a piece of paper. He picked up the black mug and turned it over, the raccoon on it smiling at him as if his entire world wasn't falling apart. He sat it down then picked up the paper, your necklace falling out of it and the ring making an impossibly loud noise as it hit the floor.

Benny,

Andrea was in New Orleans. We had a nice little chat. Elizabeth confirmed she wasn't lying about some of the things she said so I'm assuming she wasn't lying about most of it. I don't know why I thought this would work, she's an heiress and I'm a hunter. We couldn't be more polar opposites. I was your friend before I was your lover, I know losing her hurt you, I should've listened to Dean when he tried to warn me but I was always hard headed. I'm headed home to Bobby's so you don't have to worry. I'm safe and won't be hunting alone. Know I loved you.

@valeks-star

@123passwort

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #benny lafitte fanfic #benny lafitte x reader #benny lafitte x female!reader

[martysrory]

t: burn my tongue, mix it up or give it to me straight. Turn me on make say..... || @andrxasmarty

The funny thing about post partum was when she managed to get her own confidence back. If anyone asked her when it happened, she'd say she had no idea but today she was glad she had her confident self back. And the first order of business was to wake her handsome husband up the way she knew he had missed since having kids. With the girls and their son over at his sister's, she was free to let her wild nature out. She took a peek out her bathroom door to make sure he was still asleep. She closed the door again and made sure her lipstick hadn't stained and perfected her cat eye already knowing Andy enjoyed when she'd make her green eyes pop. Satisfied with her look she took another quick glance at her outfit and let out a content sigh. The sight of the silky garment made her smirk and made her way out to the room.

A melodic song came from her even though he was the one who had the singing chops and the musical talent, she knew when she sang he'd turn to putty. He was after all asking her to sing more often. Now was a good a time as ever.

She let the silky red lace number graze through her fingers as she stalked her prey. Sometimes a little nudge was all that was needed. A gentle whisper unfurled like soft sin inside the inner shell of his ear. A smirk crossed over her features as that had him stirring. Her fingers touched his skin and that had ignited lightening to strike nearby which charged the air. Her eyes glanced down at the fine golden hairs along Andy's arm rise and noticed how heavily he was breathing. She hadn't even done anything yet and he was already putty in her hands.

Di fell sideways on the bed as she nibbled the side of his neck and rested her forehead against his. Her lips worked their way down his neck, making him gasp when she hit that spot. She couldn’t see the smile he placed against her skin, but she was damn sure it was smug. She was about to call him out on it when he applied a little suction back. After that she couldn’t remember what she’d been about to say; let alone think about chastising him for breaking the contact rule.

That was until he said it, that is. Said it in that low, sexy way that made her knees entirely useless and her brain short circuit. ❛Diana. ❜ His teeth scraped the soft spot just across her clavicle, one of her weaker spots he was well attuned to. God, if she didn't have a plan already in motion she'd have made this the catalyst for said plan. She forgot to breathe. His kisses were so damn intense they actually shut off her entire system.

She licked his bottom lip, and with a content gasp coming from her, he slipped his tongue inside. Andy's mouth was warm, wet and hot. Their tongues danced together to a slow, melodic rhythm, with Di in the lead. Sleek and smooth movements, tongues greeting palates and teeth clanking together - it was everything and more.

Andy's hands traveled down her sides, tenderly gliding along her curvy figure. Her supple breasts pressed against his chest captured his attention, and when he squeezed them lightly, he earned a stifled moan from his wife. "Andreas," she mumbled into the open-mouthed kiss. "Fuck," She found herself shamelessly grinding, the soft fabric of the lacy number pressing against them in just the right ways. Their hips were moving together, grinding, and seeking more friction. Diana mewled into Andy"s mouth from the pleasure.

"Andreas, " She began, voice breathless and hoarse, eyes gleaming with something unknown, yet strangely familiar. Andy bit his lip enticingly and gestured for her to go on. "I want you." Her hand wandered down between them, clumsy, drowsy, but overall teasing movements steadily trailing behind her fingertips. "Wanna feel you, Andreas." Those nimble fingers of hers traced the outline of his boxers damp where the tip was pressing uncomfortably against it. Andy reduced his voice to a small whisper. He was now breathing against Diana's neck again, whose skin was a midtone complexion, dark and tempting.

As he dug his fingernails deeper into the skin, he replaced the faded scratches that sheltered the curve of her back. The burning streaks were divine in their own wretched ways.

Diana was breathing irregularly, with occasional low grunts of pleasure. He crawled down her body, unintentionally scrunching up the duvet at their feet. He planted featherlight kisses alongside gis wife's collarbone until he reached the loose strings of her lacy number. He hooked his fingers under the hem and pulled downwards. His mouth watered at the sight. He leisurely wrapped his calloused fingers around the base, leaned in, and kissed her chest. His lips were dry, the texture kindling this intense feeling of eros in Diana.

He curved his tongue and pressed it flush against the underside of her breasts. A mischievous flick over the nub and she was whining like a cur in the jarring cold. Andy circled his tongue over the underside of the other breast, right where it met in the middle. She lit up with pleasure. " please," she urged. "More."

Diana was very vocal during sex, and he loved it - loved how a simple touch or movement made her shiver and shake with pleasure, not to mention how responsive she was. She never missed a beat on praising him, purring sweet nothings in his ear or touching his back. So, naturally, as soon as he complied to the request, taking the nub into his mouth and sucking lightly. He swirled his tongue around it, obscene sounds filling the air, enveloping them completely. She brought her trembling hand down to grip his hair, tugging at a handful of strands. Andy moaned around her supple breasts eagerly like they were the last meal on earth.

Oral with them was always messy but it did give her hope that with him letting loose here and now, like he was a man desperate to find water in a hot desert, that it meant he was more than willing to cater to her needs.

#from the production company that brought you rocking boat is rocking. #lemon #tell me again and i'll breathe your name ( andy.) #hc hc hc hc hc hc oh lord hc #I would say I'm sorry for this but you know we not ehehhehehehehehehehhehehegegge. #She IS the spicy noodle. #Andy jfc my dude #THIS RAN AWAY FROM ME #also good morning for you and andy love you sooooo much #sets us up for t o come 😈🤗 #i2g getting her to spill what happens was 🤯🥵 #about to call him desperado teheg