#four of them but we had to get a taxi to the real world

[dreamescapeswriting]

Wish You Were Sober ~ HHJ

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

GENRE: non!idol au, drunken confessions, the morning after, fluffy, cute, clingy and adorable hyunjin,

PAIRING: hyunjin x fem!reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - June 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

Watching from the safety of your car you watched as Chan struggled to get Hyunjin out of the club and over to your car as Hyunjin dramatically yelled that he wasn't done for the night. 

"WE NEED TO PARTY MORE!" He screamed louder than you'd ever heard Hyunjin acting before, you smirked to yourself as you slowly got out of the car and shook your head. The boys were out celebrating tonight because they were getting to graduate early and they wanted to have a big party before they had to go into the "real world". Hyunjin - who was your roommate for the last four years - seemed to be the most excited to go on this night out as it had been the first time he'd let himself enjoy his time out. Mostly he would spend his time studying or in extra classes doing his best to stay focussed on what was most important to him. 

"I think you've had more than enough," You told Hyunjin while giggling and making your way over to him, wrapping one of his arms over your shoulder and helping Chan get Hyunjin toward your car.

"Yn?! You're here! Let's go and have a drink!" Hyunjin yelled in your ear, you put the yelling down to the pounding music that was blasting from inside the club and you laughed a little.

"I don't think they'll let me in. I'm in my ugly PJs tonight Hyunjinnie," You cooed a little as Hyunjin finally reached your car, leaning against the door and looking you up and down as his tongue slowly ran along his bottom lip. A simple action that made your entire body burn with desire as soon as it happened, that was the thing between you and Hyunjin. 

The two of you were roommates but you also had the biggest crush on him in the world, you figured it would eventually disappear and you'd just feel friendly toward your roommate but that time never came.

"Nothing you wear is ugly. Nothing," Hyunjin slurred a little on his words but you smiled warmly at him, opening the car door before helping him sit on the passenger seat. 

"That's sweet of you but-" You tried to speak but before you could even finish your sentence Hyunjin was shaking his head at you and turning to face Chan who was doing his best to hold back his laughter.

"It's true. Isn't it true Hyung?! Don't I tell you how beautiful Yn is?!" Your whole body was burning at the sudden attention that you were getting from Hyunjin. It was true, Chan knew that Hyunjin had the biggest crush on you which was half of the reason he had called for you to come and collect him rather than a taxi. He'd hoped that in Hyunjin's drunken state, he would somehow manage to let it slip that he was madly in love with you and neither of you would tip-toe around your feelings anymore.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying." You didn't know if you were trying to convince yourself or him at this point but you couldn't take the compliments. Even when he would compliment you when he was sober you found it hard to accept them or even listen to them. Maybe it was because you found him completely and utterly breathtaking and couldn't possibly believe he would think the same way about you but it was hard for you to accept his compliments.

"Yes, I do. Hyung! Tell her," Hyunjin whined ever so slightly, fidgeting in his seat like a toddler who couldn't get his own way.

"He does compliment you fairly often," Chan smirks as he gets into the back of the car, leaving you to get into the driver's side as you bit down on your lip. As soon as you sat down and did your seatbelt up Hyunjin took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you to look in his direction,

"Exactly, I find you irresistible." Hyunjin laughed a little, looking at you with hunger in his eyes while your whole body burnt as you slowly started up the car. It was going to be one long car journey if this was how Hyunjin was planning on spending his time with you.

The car ride had been painfully slow between all of the flirtatious remarks that were being spat in your direction, along with the small touches that Hyunjin was giving to you. It started with holding your hand and then his hand would casually fall onto your thigh as he slowly rubbed circles into the fabric of your PJs.

"You're upset with me," Hyunjin pouted as you tucked him into his bed, smiling weakly as you brushed his hair out of his face and shook your head at him. There was no way you could ever be upset with him, you were just doing your best to bite back all of the feelings tonight was bringing up for you.

"No, I'm not." You shook your head at him, you smiled weakly a little though and it still didn't do much to convince Hyunjin that you weren't mad at him.

"You are. You're upset and I demand to know why." He cried out as he sat up straight, staring at you as he waited for you to say something.

"You demand?" You laughed weakly, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at him as he nodded his head at you, placing his hands on his hips as he smirked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, My king." You called out dramatically while doing half a bow but Hyunjin turned your head up to look at him, he didn't want this to be some kind of joke. If he'd done something to upset you he wanted to know what it was so he could make sure never to do it again in the future.

"Did I do something wrong? Is it because I've been complimenting you...Because everything I said is true." He said slowly, running his thumb along your skin as you shook your head doing your best to get his hands off you.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." You laughed weakly, you didn't want to put too much thought into how he was acting right now in case all of this was just him being lonely and drunk.

"Would a drunk person tell the girl he's been madly in love with for four years that he'd been madly in love with her?" You frowned at him, he'd never told you he loved someone before. As far as you knew Hyunjin had been far too busy focusing on his studies to even think of someone romantically,

"You love someone? Who?" There was a sudden pang of jealousy spreading through you as you thought of Hyunjin with another girl and you hated yourself for it. Hyunjin wasn't yours but you didn't want him to have anyone else.

"You." You groaned and shoved him back to laying down, shaking your head at him as you scoffed a little.

"See, you're drunk. You have no idea what you're saying." You pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed and laid it over the top of the duvet.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I just hate that it's taken me four years and a whoooollleeeee lot of alcohol for me to ever be able to say anything to you." He mumbled sadly but you shook your head at him and tucked him back into the bed.

"We'll talk in the morning IF you remember." You tapped his nose softly but he took your hand in his and shook his head,

"We WILL talk in the morning." He smirked at you, quickly kissing your cheek as you bent down to give him a hug, your whole body aflame as you left his room for the night. 

In fact, the next morning he remembered and while he had been embarrassed about the way his feelings had come out he wasn't upset that he'd finally told you the truth. It had been years and he'd gotten sick of holding back the secret, every day he'd wanted to tell you the truth. 

"Hyunjin? I thought you'd be too hungover for food." You laughed awkwardly not knowing what he did and didn't remember from the night before and you weren't sure how to act around him right now.

"I wanted to make breakfast as an "I'm sorry" for last night," Your heart plunged to the floor as you thought about it. He must have remembered and instantly regret everything he'd told you.

"Oh...O-Oh, right. Yeah," You scratched the back of your neck and shook your head trying your best to come up with some lie to get you out of there as quickly as humanly possible.

"I'm not hungry. I promised Minho I'd go and help him pack." It was a lie, you knew it and Hyunjin knew it since Minho would never let anyone else help him.

"Yn," Hyunin called out as you backed out of the room, you did your best to be quicker than Hyunjin but he trapped your body between him and the wall of the living room.

"I meant every word I said to you last night. Every...Single...word. I love you," He ran his hand over your cheek as he cupped your face in his embrace, your face burning up against his touch.

"I love you too." You whispered, swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in your throat and he smirked at you, he enjoyed watching your squirm because of him.

"The breakfast is the apology for the way the feelings had come out. I should have been confident enough to come to you while I was sober,"

"I wish you were sober last night, I would have confessed too." You giggled a little as he winked at you,

"It's not too late to confess now," He wiggled his eyebrows as he snaked his arm around your waist and began to lead you back to the kitchen so that the two of you could talk some more about everything.

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#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

School of Mysteries : Chapter 9

Word Count : 1.4k

Warnings : swearing, smut (blow job), mention of sex, mention of stabbing, mention of drowning, mention of poisoning, drinking, clubbing, being drugged, mentions of feeling unsafe, murder

            Her memory comes in flashes. Flashes of laughter and dancing. Surrounded by her closest friends and her newest friend. It hurts to try and remember everything but she tries her best, holding her head in her hands. The detectives were sat across from her, watching in confusion.

            Mae and Kayla disappeared with Yeonjun leaving Y/n alone with Jisung. She was sat at the bar with Jisung standing behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder. He kept making jokes in her ear, causing her to giggle and lean back into him. “I’m going to run to the washroom real quick. Stay right here. I’ll be right back.” Y/n nodded and Jisung kissed her cheek before leaving in the direction of the washroom.

            That’s when Mingi would make his move, performing his usual clumsy boy bit. She was facing the direction Jisung walked away in, waiting for his return. Mingi approached, pretending to trip over his own two feet, an arm wrapping around her while the free hand slipped something in her drink while she wasn’t looking. “My, my. You saved my life.” He smiled. “I’m Mingi.” He held a hand out as he introduced himself.

            He seemed normal enough so she slid her hand into his. “I’m Y/n.”

            “What a fitting name for an angel.” He replied. She shook her head as she laughed at the lame line, yet she still didn’t tell him to leave. He intrigued her. She finished her drink and ordered another one. But as she took a sip of her new drink, she started feeling woozy. The world was spinning and she could barely keep her eyes open. “Jeez. Looks like you had a little too much. Let me take you home.” She could see the sinister look in his eyes and she put two and two together.

            “No. I have to get my friends.” She tried to stand from the stool but fell to the floor. Mingi helped her up, holding tightly onto her.

            “We can text them later. Let’s just get you home.” She kept shaking her head, trying her best to push him away from her, but there was no use. He was stronger than her. He got her outside and she tried getting help from strangers on the street. “I’m sorry. My girlfriend had a little too much to celebrate our anniversary.” He chuckled.

            “No. I don’t know him.” She cried. But it fell on deaf ears as everyone passed by, allowing Mingi to get her into a taxi and take her home.

            “He drugged me.” She said with quivering lips and tears in her eyes. She couldn’t even meet the detectives eyes, staring at the metal table, her head still in her hands. “As soon as I was alone, he approached me and he drugged me.” The detectives exchanged looks.

            “So you killed him in revenge?” The younger one asked. For the first time since they brought her in, she looked up, shaking her head, repeating the word no over and over. He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. “Hey, it’s okay.” His voice was soft and comforting.

            “Did he take advantage of you?” The older detective asked. She shook her head again, looking down at the table again as the memories continued to flash in her mind.

            “My friends came just in time. I was naked and he was on top of me, but they stopped him. Chased him out.” If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn yourself in. She remembers Kayla saying, but she kept that to herself. She didn’t want the detectives thinking one of her best friends could ever hurt someone like this.

            “That’s good then.” He grumbled before standing up. “Take a few days off of school and rest up.” He left, the younger detective close behind. She took that as her cue to leave, sitting at the same desk as last time as she waited for the other four to be finished with their interviews.

~

            The three of them were in the bathroom, unable to keep their hands to themselves anymore. Yeonjun was surprised when they asked him to join, but there was no way he was going to say no. It turned him on watching the way Kayla took control of Mae. He could barely keep it together. “Bunny, on your knees now.” Kayla demanded and Mae obeyed immediately. “Remember, she’s my girl. But I know she’s been needing some good dick lately. So I thought I’d treat her.” Yeonjun nodded almost dumbly. “Pull your pants down. Let her suck you off.”

            “Kiss him mommy. I want to watch you two make out.” Mae said. Kayla smiled and brushed Mae’s hair out of her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

            “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want.” Mae nodded. “Grip her hair. Set the pace for her.” Yeonjun gathered Mae’s hair in his hand and began fucking her throat while Kayla watched. As Mae’s eyes filled with tears, Kayla pressed her lips to Yeonjun’s. Mae moaned as she watched, causing Yeonjun to moan into the kiss. He pulled away for a second.

            “Fuck. Do that again.” Kayla grabbed the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss which made Mae moan again. He knew he was close, his cock twitching in her mouth, his thrusts were getting sloppy. “Fuck I’m going to cum.”

            “Cum in her mouth. She’ll swallow it.” Kayla smirked. He nodded and continued fucking her mouth. His head fell back as he came, Mae swallowing it all just as Kayla said. “Good girl. I think you deserve a reward bunny.” Before they could continue though, they checked their phones that seemed to non stop buzz with notifications.

            “Fuck we have to go.” Mae said, standing from the bathroom floor. Yeonjun pulled up his pants, asking if everything was okay. But they just said they’ll explain later, but he could come if he wanted.

            “We disappeared to hook up. But we stopped when we got Jisung’s texts and immediately went to get Y/n.” Mae explained. “And no we didn’t kill him. We finished what we started. Here’s the proof.” She slid her phone across the table. The detective didn’t bother pressing play this time, just nodding and accepting her alibi.

            “You’re free to go.” She sarcastically smiled, grabbed her phone, and left the room. The others were already out, surrounding Y/n who seemed to fold in on herself. She was in Jisung’s arms, her head on his chest as he rubbed her back.

            “Baby.” Mae said softly. Y/n looked up at her. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Y/n nodded.

            “Let’s go home. Have a movie night, yeah?” Kayla offered. “Jisung and Yeonjun can come too.” Jisung looked down at Y/n who was already looking up at him. He brushed some hair out of her face.

            “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again.” He told her. She nodded and stood up from the chair. The five of them left the station, Y/n still in Jisung’s arms, only feeling safe if someone was holding her.

            “You have your thinking face on.” The younger detective pointed out. The older detective was still watching them leave, his brows furrowed together.

            “What did you think of Jisung’s alibis?” He asked. The younger detective looked over his notes, reading over Jisung’s alibis for the time of each of the murders. Playing video games with Felix and then sleeping. Confirmed by Felix who’s alibi was confirmed by Y/n. Was supposed to meet with Felix at the pool but slept in. Confirmed by texts on Felix’s phone, which was also confirmed by Y/n’s story. And now sleeping in the living room so Y/n would feel safer. But no one mentioned him staying the night.

            “Felix was his alibi and it was always confirmed by Y/n.”

            “And now that Felix is dead, his alibi isn’t confirmed. Smells like a cover up to me.”

            “I don’t know. Stabbing, drowning, and now a poisoning. Maybe it’s three different killers. Felix killed Hyunjin. Someone else killed Felix. And then another person killed Mingi.” He said as he looked over the notes. None of the murders seemed to link together besides Y/n being at the center of all three.

            “What do you think is more likely; a serial killer with an obsession with Y/n, or three killers?” The older detective asked. “We have a serial on our hands and his name is Han Jisung. And I’ll prove it.”

back to masterlist

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[hardly-an-escape]

well @nyxneon, this fucking website ate your original ask, but I FINALLY filled the prompt you sent me weeks ago. sorry it took me so long, I accidentally took "anything involving intoxicated Hob + sexytimes, be it dream sex, a fantasy, real, whatever" and... turned it into like nine pages of tender emotional sexy feelings? and dancing to old jazz music? whoops?? | rated E for sexytimes | 2900 words

- - -

Kind of Blue, a kind of fire

- - -

Some people might think that after six hundred-odd years of immersing himself in human pleasures, Hob Gadling would have calmed down about some things.

Those people would be wrong.

Food? Get out of town. The quality of food, the sheer variety that’s available within walking distance of his flat — it boggles the mind. Hob still dreams about the first time he’d had really good sushi. The part of himself that will always be a medieval peasant almost weeps every time he buys strawberries and pineapple in the middle of winter. He loves it all — gourmet four star restaurants and the cheapest fish-and-chip shop in the neighborhood. And one definite perk of being immortal is that he never has to think too hard about his cholesterol.

Alcohol? Obviously. There’s nothing like that particular soft fuzzy feeling that comes with a few glasses of wine or a good whiskey. Hob’s favorite day of the month is when the staff of the New Inn gets together for a taste test to choose the next round of beer and wine specials (things occasionally get raucous). He’s tried everything, from mead to absinthe to bathtub gin to the finest wines, and he’ll try them all again. And again… immortality benefits include not worrying overmuch about his liver or his blood pressure.

Sex? Well… perhaps the less said there, the better. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, after all; and whatever else he is, Hob would like to think he’s still a gentleman. Suffice to say he has had plenty of experience and very few complaints.

Of course, it just happens to be during one of those New Inn taste test evenings that Dream walks through the door. Hob immediately waves him over to the table where the staff are gathered.

“You are busy,” says Dream, sounding almost uncertain. “I will return another time.”

“No, no! Join us, by all means,” says Hob eagerly, kicking out a chair for Dream and carefully ignoring the significant looks several of the waitstaff are exchanging as he introduces everyone. By now they’ve seen his mysterious friend enough times that the rumors about Hob’s Man in Black are rife. “You might even come in useful. Do you know anything about wine?”

- - -

It’s some hours later, after many rounds of tasting, after his staff had been poured into taxis and Ubers, that Hob finds himself in his own living room, one last nightcap of very good whiskey in his hand, flipping through his record collection while his oldest friend, the Lord of Dreams, reclines on his comfy old couch.

“I think the last thing I put on for you was Duke Ellington, yeah? A couple of weeks ago, was it?”

Dream has shed his stiff coat and his arms are distractingly white and slender in the gentle lamplight of Hob’s living room. One ankle rests on the opposite knee and a glass tumbler of whiskey dangles from long fingers. Hob has never seen his friend look so… decadent. So relaxed. He tries not to stare.

“Ah! Here we go,” he says, emerging from his shelf of records with Kind of Blue in hand. “I haven’t played this for you yet. This was… 1959. It doesn’t get much better than this.”

He pulls the record from its sleeve, places it reverently on the turntable and gently drops the needle. A moment of static; then quiet, warm piano chords fill the room. Then the drums and the soft thrum of an upright bass. Then the first clear notes of Miles Davis’s trumpet pierce the air like arrows.

Hob feels marvelous, soft and loose-limbed. The wine and the whiskey buzz through his veins, softening the edges of the world and wrapping everything in velvet. He takes a sip from his glass and lets the music seep into his muscles like a warm bath as he starts to move to the rhythm. Hob lost any semblance of self-consciousness about four hundred years ago and he takes the idea of “dance like nobody’s watching” very seriously. Even if the nobody who is watching is the mystical being he’s been more or less in love with for centuries.

So he carefully doesn’t think about Dream watching him from the sofa. He deliberately doesn’t notice the two tiny spots of color blooming high on Dream’s devastating cheekbones.

Things between them have been different, somehow, since Dream’s return, but this feels… different. Almost dangerous, as though Hob is full of something flammable and Dream is an open flame.

Hob is just drunk enough to decide he doesn’t care. He tosses back the last sip of his whiskey like he’s throwing gasoline on a fire, sets aside his glass, and holds his hand out to Dream.

“Come on,” he says, a little breathless from the long swallow and the liquor and the music. “You can’t listen to Miles Davis and not dance.”

And Dream, in turn, drains his glass and puts it down, and takes Hob’s hand, and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, allows Hob’s hands at his hip and on his shoulder, and the spots of color on his cheeks bloom infinitesimally larger.

With the grace born of inebriation, Hob hooks one ankle around the leg of his coffee table and kicks it to the side, clearing a dance floor for himself and the man in his arms, pretending he is not staring, pretending he is not thinking about gathering Dream closer to himself, chest to chest and hip to hip and thigh to thigh.

For several long minutes they sway decorously together, inches apart, as the strains of “Blue in Green” float through the air around them. Hob tries very hard not to gaze into Dream’s eyes and is, again, just drunk enough to convince himself he’s doing a very good job.

“Well?” he says eventually, throwing an arm over Dream’s shoulder, emboldened by alcohol and jazz. “How do you feel about Miles Davis, then?”

There’s a pause.

“The music puzzles me, somewhat,” says Dream. “I suspect I will need more time with it.”

Another pause. Dream’s next words sound as if they are being dragged out from somewhere deep inside him.

“You puzzle me, Hob. I do not quite… understand how I feel when I am with you.”

“Do you need to understand? Is it not enough to just… feel? Or maybe you need more time with me, too,” he says teasingly.

“Hmm. I am not sure that time would bring clarity.”

They shuffle through a few more quasi-dance steps. Hob takes a breath and dares to draw Dream ever-so-slightly closer.

“Describe it for me.”

There is a long pause, during which Hob is not sure whether Dream is thinking or plotting his escape route. Finally, he speaks.

“I feel… warmth. Impatience. Contentment and dissatisfaction in equal measure. Calm, and yet…”

He trails off. They are very close now, feet stilled, but hips and chests swaying minutely yet to the music. Hob has stopped trying not to stare into Dream’s eyes.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, but he can’t make himself regret it, or try to take them back.

“You’re drunk,” says Dream fondly.

“Ah, but in the morning, I will be sober,” says Hob. “And you… will still be beautiful. Besides,” he adds. “You’re a little drunk too, don’t lie.”

“Perhaps,” murmurs Dream. Hob stares and stares. The spots of color on Dream’s cheekbones have spread across the stern bridge of his nose and down the slopes of his cheeks, a pink blush like sunset reflected on snow, and his pupils have almost swallowed the pale blue-grey of his irises.

“Dream…” says Hob. Their faces are close enough now that he can feel the other man’s breath on his cheek. “If I’m reading this wrong, stop me, but I think if I don’t kiss you right now I’ll—”

He doesn’t have to figure out the end of that sentence.

Dream leans forward, closes that last scant inch between them, and their lips meet and it’s (God, it’s perfect) it’s soft and gentle and — it’s not a chaste kiss, exactly, Hob thinks he has maybe never felt less chaste in his life — but their mouths aren’t even open, no hint of tongue, and Hob still feels as though he has suddenly developed a high fever.

And then Dream pulls back, and his mouth is very pink. Hob’s hand has drifted up from Dream’s hip to rest on his chest and a distant part of his brain wonders why it’s heaving under his fingers, why he’s even breathing when he doesn’t need the air. Everything in Hob wants to lean in, to chase after Dream’s mouth, capture it and keep it captive for as long as he’s allowed.

But before he can do that, Dream’s hand comes up to cup his face, long fingers stroking down the stubbled strong line of his chin; and this, too, is soft and gentle, until (until) the pad of Dream’s thumb catches on Hob’s bottom lip, and pulls it down, and something dangerous flashes in his eyes, that same flame Hob saw when he put down his drink and held out his hand to pull Dream off the couch.

And then Dream surges forward like a wildfire. And Hob is the one held captive, and this — oh, this — this kiss is hot and wet and promising, Dream’s tongue slipping into Hob’s mouth and Dream’s teeth catching on Hob’s lip where his thumb had pressed down, Dream’s arm snaking around Hob’s shoulders to crush them closer together and Hob’s hand trapped against Dream’s chest and flexing helplessly in the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer still.

Dream tastes like whiskey and a clear, high trumpet note.

Hob is dizzy in a way that has less to do with liquor and more to do with the way Dream is shoving a thigh between his legs and grinding their hips together as though he’s trying to fuck him through two layers of denim.

- - -

They do make it to the bedroom, eventually, although Hob is dimly aware that he will have to replace the glass in at least two picture frames that they knock off the wall during their progress down the hall. Half of their clothes have disappeared along the way: Dream’s boots to some ethereal netherworld and his t-shirt yanked unceremoniously over his head by Hob’s hungry hands; Hob’s button-down shirt hanging open — half the buttons gone now — his shoes kicked under the couch and his belt already loosened.

Dream tumbles to the bed first, one arm above his head, one knee canted up. He looks like a painting — although Hob’s distracted brain can’t quite place the artist — his pale skin covered in blue and orange from the combination of moonlight and sodium street lamps streaming in through the bedroom window. A thumb caught provocatively in the waistband of his black jeans.

Hob pauses, there, swaying slightly under the power of the whiskey in his veins and the man in his bed.

“Is this real?” he whispers. “Is this really happening?”

Dream frowns, a miniscule line between his brows.

“Have I underestimated your level of intoxication?” he asks.

“No… no, it’s not that. Not at all. It’s just…” Hob places a hesitant knee on the bed. Clears his throat. “It’s just that I’ve had this dream before, so many times. Of you; of, of this. And I know you’ve said that dreaming is just as real as waking, but… I just… have to know for sure. That we’re in my world.”

Hob is horrified to hear his own voice break, to feel the beginnings of tears gathering in his eyelashes. He is unprepared for the smile, warm and genuine and a little sad, that spreads across Dream’s face.

“Oh, Hob. My friend. Come here to me,” he says. “Let me show you.”

Hob crawls up the bed and into Dream’s open arms the way a drowning man might crawl onto a dry shore. Kisses him, open-mouthed and hungry, like gasping for air.

Dream draws his shirt carefully down the lines of his shoulders, casts it aside, tightens his arms around him, drops gentle kisses on his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, his teary eyes.

“How long?” asks Dream, voice tender and rough. “How long have you known? How long have you waited for me, my Hob, my dear heart?”

“I think I’ve been waiting for you my entire life,” Hob says, laughing damply into the crook of Dream’s neck, kneeling at the confessional of love and liquor. “I think… I think this is the reason I wanted to live forever. To be here, now, with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he sniffs. “This should be fun, and, and sexy, and I’m being all wet and emotional.”

“No. Do not apologize,” says Dream. Hob’s fuzzy brain finally makes the connection: the light through the window is blue and orange like a Van Gogh. His hands on Dream’s skin like sunflowers, like wheatfields. Dream strokes long fingers through the soft strands of Hob’s hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

- - -

In the living room, side A of Kind of Blue has come to an end. The record spins quietly and inevitably on Hob’s turntable; only the slightest catch of static on each rotation indicates that it is still moving at all.

- - -

In the bedroom, both men’s jeans have been tossed into the corner. Dream has two fingers inside Hob and is on the brink of adding a third; Hob twitches and gasps softly under his ministrations as Dream drags his mouth delicately along the hard length of his cock.

“Fuck. Fuck—” Hob pants. “Dream. I need… I need you. I need you. Please…”

“Patience.”

“Don’t you fucking — tell me — to be patient — ah! — you fucking ass.”

Dream withdraws his fingers, twisting them as he goes, adds the third as he thrusts back inside, crooking them in just the right way to have Hob whining at the stretch and pushing his hips desperately up, first into empty air and then onto Dream’s tongue as it circles lightly around the head of Hob’s weeping prick.

“Oh, but you are so good at waiting,” croons Dream into the soft skin of Hob’s thigh. “My patient, constant Hob, waiting for me. So good.”

And fuck, Hob should not find that as hot as he does, but oh, he does — the combination of praise in Dream’s voice and pleasure from Dream’s fingers making him bite hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from coming on the spot.

He reaches down blindly, filled with the need to feel, to touch, strokes through Dream’s hair and along the softness of his throat and the sharpness of his collarbone, grips his shoulder and draws him up. And Dream is kissing as he goes, kissing Hob’s hipbone and the comfortable divot of his waist, kissing his ribs, nosing through the soft hair on his chest, grazing a nipple with sharp teeth, and Hob would be embarrassed at the noise he makes if it weren’t for the fact that it was swallowed immediately by Dream’s mouth on his, warm and wet and wanting.

Dream’s fingers withdraw again, and he pulls back from Hob’s mouth and sits back on his heels where he is kneeling between Hob’s thighs spread wide. Hob drinks in the sight of him, thin and powerful and painted in ethereal light, and then Dream grabs the bottle of lube and slicks his hand and strokes himself, twice, three times, dark eyes pinning Hob to the pillows, and Hob’s brain shorts out, just a little bit, like a candle flame flickering.

When Dream slides inside him it is slow, careful, a scant tender inch at a time, a plush and slow series of piano chords. When they move together it is a little faster, like a jazz rhythm, slightly syncopated, halting here and pushing there, the percussion of breath and heartbeat driving the meter of their coupling. When they come it is a crash, a crest, a not-so-silent wail of an inner trumpet reaching its peak.

- - -

After — several minutes after — Hob (who, again, would still like to consider himself a gentleman) reluctantly detaches himself from the mattress and Dream’s clinging arms and fetches a large glass of water and a warm wet flannel, with which he gently cleans both Dream and himself before tossing it toward the laundry hamper.

He slides back between the sweatdamp sheets and Dream immediately shoves up against him, an arm across his chest and a leg twined around his and a lovely pale face pushed into the crook for his neck.

“Wouldn’t have picked you for such a cuddler,” Hob says drowsily, pulling the blanket over them as Dream tightens his hold.

“Hmm. I will endeavor to continue to surprise you,” Dream says, and his lips move against Hob’s pulse in a way that almost makes him want to do it all over again. Almost. The spirit is willing, et cetera, but the flesh is… sleepy.

“Do you sleep?” murmurs Hob, halfway gone now to Dream’s own realm. The blue and orange shadows in his bedroom have blurred together and faded into warm shadows. “Will you stay?”

The fire Dream sparked and fed inside Hob has been sated, banked, put to bed to glow in waiting for another day.

“I will stay.”

[Read on AO3.]

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #dream of the endless #hob gadling #I don't have anything interesting to say in tags right now... I hope you like it! I'm going to bed! <3 #ahahaha wait apparently this is my 666th post?? #now I'm SUPER MAD I didn't time it so my Hob's Halloween 666th birthday fic was nr 666 #curses!!!!! #hardly an answer

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - December 17th

Real life has been crazy as my kids went through finals week and I went through--helping them through finals week. There’s very little on this week’s list--but my holiday break is starts Wednesday so I expect the next few weeks list will make up for the brevity of today. And of course, y’all can look forward to holiday lists and my end of year round ups in the next few weeks. 

*

One More Dream by citsiurtlanu

Steve is an animator dreaming of breathing life back into a stagnant industry. Tony is a musician dreaming of introducing electric violin to rock. In December of 1981, they meet and come to realize what it means to follow said dreams.

Also known as the artist!Steve/musician!Tony La La Land AU no one ever asked for.

the perfect blend by downeylove, robertdowneyjjr

Tired of the stress and pressure that comes with being the CEO of a global tech conglomerate, Tony hands over control of Stark Industries to Pepper and decides to open a cafe in Brooklyn.

Then an exhausted high school teacher named Steve walks into his life looking for coffee and doesn’t make any effort to leave. Not that Tony’s complaining.

Blacksmith's Hands by Amuly 

Based in Marvel's 1872 Western Universe, where Tony is a blacksmith and Steve is the town Sheriff. Blacksmith Tony hears Sheriff Steve's birth date is coming up, and decides to give him the present he deserves.

darling I fancy you by complicationstoo 

Steve has had a plan for April fifteenth for months now. He’s finally back in New York tonight, officially done with the semester abroad in London that he and Natasha started in January. He loved England, but after months of conversations through text and brief phone calls alone, he just wants the taxi from the airport to drive faster to take him back home. Back to Tony, who Steve has been in love with for the better part of four years and is finally ready to tell how he feels.

cold coffee by complicationstoo 

In retrospect, Steve can admit that he overreacted to the entire situation. His only defense is that he was already stressed out by the bad grade he got on his art project. It’s weak, he recognizes, but he worked really hard on that project and Professor Hill called it “contrived” and “unnecessarily complex.” He was fuming by the time he walked out her office, having failed at arguing for a better grade, and getting freezing cold coffee spilled on him was really the icing on the top of the world’s worst cake. Can he really be blamed for blowing up on the guy?

(Yes, he’ll admit later, he can. But not now.)

Met You on a Monday by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)

The Chitauri invade on a Monday, the same day that Steve meets Iron Man for the first time, and then Toni Stark--and then everything he thinks he knows about both of them goes right out the window.

Indulgence by FestiveFerret, One and Five Nines (Obani)

All it took was one word from Tony, and Steve fell to his knees, every time.

He wished he didn't need this so badly.

Before We Part (The Adventure's End Remix) by citsiurtlanu

Minutes away from incursion, Steve and Tony realize that this adventure will be their final one.

Size Doesn't Matter by izazov

An incident results in Steve reverting to his pre-serum body. It may be the worst thing that has happened to Tony Stark. Or the best.

Love of Inconvenience by AvengersNewB

Tony had a plan; bond with Steve to keep him from deportation until he could find Steve's childhood friend Mr. Barnes.

Temporary.

For convenience.

The plan did not entail falling for this perfect beautiful omega.

Tony Doesn't Love Drama (It Loves Him) by tonystarkssnipples

Steve carefully folded his fingers together and took a steadying breath. “With all due respect, sir, I do not think it would be a wise idea for me to be a part of this project.”

Steve seethed. His boss did this all the time; talked him into doing things they both knew were not good for Steve. In the end, Steve always went along with what his boss said because that’s how jobs worked.

-or-

Steve is a photographer hired to take pictures of Tony Stark and they end up falling into bed together.

Just Like This by BlossomsintheMist

“You are,” he murmured in Tony’s ear, “the sweetest, most generous, most wonderful boyfriend a man could ever have.”

Steve and Tony share Valentine's Day together, and Steve wants to make a point.

#stevetony weekly #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #stony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

[lampmanliveblogs]

Even when talking about the difficulties of life, this Luz still looked and sounded so positive and upbeat. A far cry from the current state our beloved protagonist girl finds herself in.

And wow, this entire episode really was a targeted attack against me specifically, huh? I mean, even Luz’ line about being able to read witch tongue reminds me how back in the days, I could read gnommish (from the Artemis Fowl books) and decode the messages along the bottom of the pages. It doesn’t hit as hard as that one previous scene, but it still hits pretty close to home.

Camila believed that if Luz applied herself more, then she could do great things. She was right about that; just look at what she’s been able to do with glyphs in such a short time. Even Philip, who’s spent the last four hundred years or so thinking he was literally the only real person in the world admitted that he was impressed by her.

The point being that ”normal” subject like math or social studies might not be able to hold Luz interest for long, but given the right subject and the right environment, she will excel.

Timeline wise, this takes place right before the disastrous book report we saw at the beginning of episode one, season one.

I believe the ”Domicile Evil 4” poster is a reference to the Resident Evil franchise.

Down in the right corner we have… ”Night of [the?] Zombie S-” Night of the Zombie S…squirrel? That doesn’t look like a squirrel on the poster though. Maybe it’s a shrew or something, I dunno.

There are also a bunch of books in the bookcase: mostly Azura books, no surprise. There are also three books that have titles. One says ”Ghosts” on it, so I think it’s the same book that Gordon Ramsay read in that one episode of Hotel Hell that was in Connecticut.

Now, despite my brand new glasses, I have a hard time making out the other two. I think one of them says ”Taxi-something” on it, and there’s a skull next to it, so it might be about taxidermy.

That one pink jacket with the golden star in the wardrobe is giving me Steven Universe vibes. I bet Steven would love it. Is it organic though?

”…I’m staying in the Human Realm. Permanently.”

Oh, so that’s what Luz was planning, that makes sense. I mean, it’s a terrible idea, but it makes sense. I’m surprised I didn’t think of that possibility.

I guess Luz though there was still a real possibility that they could create a new portal, even before Hunter told her about the hidden Titan’s Blood. And she thought the other Exiles could return back home… and that they’d be okay with leaving her behind? And I guess she was willing to send them into a world where who knows what has happened ever since they left it at the whims of a hyperactive kid with the power to move celestial bodies around.

Luz, sweetie, I know you hate yourself right now, and I know fourteen-year-olds aren’t the best at making good long-term decisions, but please think about this.

I should probably talk a little bit about Camila’s reactions as well.

Her facial journey throughout this playlist fairly subtle, and I am not the best at reading faces, but here goes:

When the videos first start playing, she looks a little unsure. Probably because she shouldn’t be watching her daughter’s video diary.

Then Luz talks about Manny’s death. And while that is undoubtedly still a great source of sadness for her, Camila’s first instinct is to reach out towards the image of her grieving daughter.

We then move on to the videos showing off Luz’ antics, her trying to cut her hair with the sword, and Camila’s expression becomes fond. She’s missed this side of her daughter, her silly ideas, wonderful creativity, and endless optimism… even if her ideas don’t always work out.

Her smile fades as in the next video, Luz talks about the conversation she had with Camila about school. I get the sense that Camila feels guilty that she didn’t appreciate her daughter for the things she was good at or passionate about, trying instead to get her to fit into a box. 

Finally, we arrives at the last entry, where Luz says she’s going to stay in the Human Realm forever. Camila looks shocked and then… this expression. I believe she’s reached the same conclusion as me, that it is a bad idea. Even without bringing Luz’ extended family in the form of Eda & King (and also Hooty and Cool Aunt Lilith) into the equation, all of Luz’ best friends, and her awesome girlfriend are from that other world. I think Camila on some level knows that Luz will never truly be happy in this ordinary human world.

This is why we wash our wounds and make sure to change our bandaids regularly, Hunter.

Also, nononononono, it’s happening, it’s happening, oh no-

Also, also, eeeeeeww!

Turns out I was right!

To be more precise, my third proposed theory of why Luz’ burnt her hand on the glyph back at the vet clinic was right. It was because of the hidden Titan’s Blood, which makes glyph magic work… at least to some extent, those light orbs look a bit wobbly.

Not only does this give Luz a way to find the blood, but it also gives her some way to defend herself against the monster waiting in the woods.

Hey, let’s think positively! Maybe Hunter isn’t possessed by his creepy uncle, but is actually just turning into a werewolf! Yeah, that’s what’s happening. And Luz is exactly the kind of nerd who knows how to deal with a werewolf.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e1 #thanks to them

[estherdedlock]

Every year, there’s a pop-culture debate about whether some movies that aren’t about Christmas, like Die Hard and Catch Me If You Can are actually “Christmas movies.” I think it depends on how the movie makes the viewer feel. If it gives you those vibes, then by golly, it is a Christmas movie.

I think a lot of readers tend to associate The Secret History with autumn, which makes perfect sense, but for me, it’s a winter’s tale---and that puts it firmly in the category of Christmas books. So in the spirit of the season, here’s an excerpt, abridged for the holidays, of one of my favorite parts of the story. Because The Secret History isn’t just a winter’s tale but a Winter tale, if you know what I mean.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!

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

  Christmas came and went without notice, except that with no work and everything closed there was no place to go to get warm except, for a few hours, to church. I came home afterwards and wrapped myself in my blanket and rocked back and forth, ice in my very bones, and thought of all the sunny Christmases of my childhood---oranges, bikes and Hula Hoops, green tinsel sparkling in the heat.   Around the second week of January I got a postcard from Rome, no return address. It was a photograph of the Primaporta Augustus: beside it, Bunny had drawn a surprisingly deft cartoon of himself and Henry in Roman dress (togas, little round eyeglasses) squinting off curiously in the direction indicated by the statue’s outstretched arm. (Caesar Augustus was Bunny’s hero; he had embarrassed us all by cheering loudly at the mention of his name during the reading of the Bethlehem story from Luke 2 at the literature division’s Christmas party. “Well, what of it,” he said, when we tried to shush him. “All the world shoulda been taxed.”)   Late one afternoon, as it was getting dark, I looked down into the empty courtyard and was startled to see that a dark, motionless figure had materialized under the lamp, standing with its hands in the pockets of its dark overcoat and looking up at my window. It was shadowy and heavy snow was falling: “Henry?” I said, and squeezed my eyes shut until I saw stars. When I opened them again, I saw nothing but snow whirling in the bright cone of emptiness beneath the light. It was Friday, and Dr. Roland was going to be out of town until the following Wednesday. For me, that meant four days in the warehouse, and even in my clouded state it was clear I might freeze to death for real.   When Commons closed I started for home. The snow was deep, and before long my legs to the knees were prickling and numb. Everything in East Hampden was dark and deserted, even the Boulder Tap; the only light for miles around seemed to be the light shimmering around the pay phone in front. I had about thirty dollars in my pocket, more than enough to call a taxi to take me to the Catamount Motel.   I had one more quarter in my pocket; it was my last one. I took off my gloves and groped in my pocket with my numbed fingers. Finally I found it, and had it in my hand and was about to bring it up to the slot, when suddenly it slipped from my fingers and I pitched forward after it, hitting my forehead on the sharp corner of the metal tray beneath the phone. I managed to get up on all fours. I saw a dark spot on the snow. The quarter was gone.   I made it up the stairs, half walking, half on my hands and knees. Blood was trickling down my forehead. I pushed the workshop door open with my shoulder and began to fumble for the light switch when suddenly I saw something by the window that made me reel with shock. A figure in a long black overcoat was standing motionless across the room by the windows, hands clasped behind the back; near one of the hands I saw the tiny glow of a cigarette coal.   “Henry?” I said at last, my voice scarcely more than a whisper.   He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and took a step towards me. It really was him---damp, ruddy cheeks, snow on the shoulders of his overcoat. “Good God, Richard,” he said, “what’s happened to you?”   It was as much surprise as I ever saw him show. I reached for the door frame, and the next thing I knew I was falling, and Henry had jumped forward to catch me.   He eased me onto the floor and took off his coat and spread it over me like a blanket. “Where did you come from?” I said.   “I left Italy early.” He was brushing the hair back from my forehead. I saw blood on his fingertips.   “Some little place I’ve got here, huh?” I said, and laughed.   “Yes,” he said brusquely. Then he bent to look at my head again.

#the secret history #henry winter #richard papen #christmas reading #christmas #dark academia #donna tartt

[roammania2023]

Standing on platform 9 at Gara De Nord, I expected a new Danish made high speed electric train to turn up. What turned up was electric but fairly old, it was not capable of high speed but great altitudes. Climbing onto the train and fighting my way past the beggars and book sellers I found my seat. Unfortunately someone was already sitting in it. I turfed them out in the politest way and sat back in 1st class semi luxury. The train was old and tired but it did the job. It wasn’t bad for a £31 return ticket to Braśov in first class.

At 12:24pm the train departed, we zoomed through the countryside making a few stops on the way. The spacious leg room was a real comfort. After an hours ride, we started to ascend into the mountains and it started to snow heavily. We were in Transylvania. Gazing out of the steamy window I observed rivers raging through dense woodlands. The snow continued to beat down as the car traffic on nearby roads drew to a stop. I admired the engineering achievement of breaking through the mountain. After just over two and a half hours we arrived in Braśov.

I stepped off the train into a blizzard. The snow was 2 feet deep and I struggled to pull my suitcase along the platform. Eventually I made my way to the stations exit and entered the full force of the storm.

Making my way through the chaos of taxis, snow and people traffic I attempted to find the bus to the city centre. I found a small booth and bent down by a foot. A pair of eyes appeared which was accompanied by a voice which thankfully spoke English. I purchased a ticket and was told to catch the number 4 bus. Unclear of when my bus would arrive, I boarded various buses and asked if they were heading to the city centre and also stood on various platforms. Eventually after thirty minutes my bus arrived. I squeezed on and felt comfort in the fact that the driver seemed to be following the Centru signs.

The roads were chaotic. The snow had caused major delays and what should have been a short journey seemed to take an eternity. Eventually I arrived in the city centre. Like Captain Scott, I made my way through the blizzard pulling my suitcase along with me. By now my feet were wet and frozen because I was wearing trainers. When I arrived at the South Pole, I mean McDonald’s, I was greeted by my Airbnb host. He explained how to unlock the four gates and doors to get to my Airbnb and left me to relax.

I made my way into Braśov to explore the Old Town. I stopped in the main square and saw the Black Church. It’s a really nice city. It was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until after WW1, when Romania acquired the territory. I explored the city until I came to the realisation that I needed some waterproof shoes, it wasn’t possible to walk sturdy without them. I brought them and they have made the world of difference.

This evening I discovered one of the best restaurants that I have ever been to in terms of decor. It has a Neoclassical style similar to that of the Romanian Athenaeum. It’s brilliant! I need to get an early night because tomorrow I am going to Bran Castle!

#braśov #bucharest #romania #travel europe #travel #solo travel #train travel #europe #eastern europe #explore europe

[occult-roommates]

Roommates

While at the airport, Dawud met his future roommate, Rudi. They seemed pretty cool. Just like him, Rudi had recently moved to San Myshuno, though in their case, it was in hope of pursuing a music career. After a short taxi ride, they both found their new apartment. To be quite honest, the two were both pleasantly surprised to see it was fancier looking than what they originally expected, if only on the outside.

Rudi: A bit overdressed aren’t you? San Myshuno rarely gets that cold, especially as we’re approaching March. Dawud: Well, my parents are from Iraq and I spent my entire life in Arizona, I’m a child of the desert, I’m not made for this type of climate. Rudi: And I’m from Costa Rica, also not exactly known for being cold, and I’m doing just fine with just this jeans jacket.

If truth be told, Dawud was indeed starting to feel a bit too warm, but no way he’s admitting that. 

Meanwhile in the apartment, their other future roommates were waiting for them. This included a blue skinned vampire named Charlie, and sitting in front of her, a green-haired mermaid named Akva. Then we also had an alien in human form, sporting beautiful blue curls, named Kino. Finally, a redhead spellcaster named Daniele.

Charlie: Our new roommates are arriving today, so please try to act...normal for once. Akva: I think I do a pretty good job at that, thank you very much. Daniele: If we needed a new roommates so much, why couldn’t we pick Akva’s boyfriend. I liked him! Akva: First of all, ex-boyfriend, we broke up last week and you know it. Second of all, one of the reason we broke up is because he’s moving to Sulani. 

Ok, the real reason is because Akva recently realized she is gay. But this whole moving to the other side of the country thing was also a big contributing factor.

Kino: I agree with Dani though, I liked him. You better still be his friend. Daniele: Rent cannot be getting that high right? Also, we only have two bedrooms in this apartment, and I don’t wanna live with humans! They’ve been treating occults such as us like garbage for centuries. Charlie: Well, the world is evolving Dani, and one of them is a werewolf. Also, we’ll just be three in each bedroom, no big deal. And yes, rent is that high. Daniele: I think you’re just being cheap. Charlie: You’re a rich kid, what do you know about the average price of stuff? Kino: Ok can you please calm down? I’m more worried about the fact that, well, earthlings have been aware of vampires and mermaids and werewolves and spellcasters for centuries, but I’m...You know...An alien. Nobody except a handful of government officials know we exist! Charlie: Look ok, can you please calm down? It will all work out in the end, I swear on my own life. Daniele: You’re literally immortal! You can’t swear upon something you cannot lose, Charlie!

Well, if this is what an average conversation looks like with only four roommates, only the universe itself know how chaotic it will get with two more...

Prev - Next

#the sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #the sims #sims community #sims 4 community #sims 4 gameplay #simblr story #occult roommates #dawud sahan #rudi marron #charlie yi #daniele rossini #akva singh #kino gurafee #OcRo s1

[crobones]

anyone else think that the duffer brothers did not have this season in mind when writing previous seasons? I think they wrote themselves into a corner and thought "okay how can we got a little lost how do we get back to the core story at hand." like...

how did vecna get his powers? will we address it or ignore it? if killing people with psychic powers opens a gate to the upside-down, how did a gate open in Russia? did they just think "let's throw in the red scare to give the adults something to do because we don't want them helping the kids. " and did they think that since they forgot about barb for a season and a half, they made the big bad go after kids with trauma and decided that Nancy is way more effected than before.

fuck, dude. I don't even remember seasons two and three or anything other than mind-flayer = bad. season four ties into season one nicely, but I think they just got high or had a fever dream for seasons two and three, then they rewatched season one and remembered plots they had to address.

for one, in real D&D, vecna is a bigger bad than a mind-flayer (not to mention that's not even what I mind-flayer looks like.) these are issues that i've had since the beginning really. the entire hierarchy of d&d creatures is literally backwards in the show. mind-flayers are an entire hive mind race, not a giant shadow spider. if they wanted a somewhat more fitting title for that thing, they should have gone with elder brain.

aside from mind-flayers, the demogorgan isn't even from the same plane of existence. it's a singular being, a demon worshipped like a god by cultists, and chances are the mind-flayer race and the demogorgon would not have gotten along at all, considering the ilithid used to enslave demons, and especially since the rift between the lawful evil and chaotic evil realms has caused a lot of shit in the past.

then there's Vecna, who is not only from an entirely different plane of existence than the both ilithid and the demogorgon, but his life as a lich brought him to a pseudo-god in undeath. a neutral evil kinda-maybe god. a demigod. and since Mike mentioned Kas having slain Vecna previously, we can assume Vecna is one now. If they wanted Vecna to work for a giant shadow entity, they should have gone with Orcus, who Vecna learned undeath from.

like, since this rant is on tumblr, chances are I'm yelling into an echo chamber of people who also know D&D lore, but it's these small details that make me think that the duffer brothers did not have forethought for this plot. I think they left enough plotholes that they tried to solve every single one with one big bad.

if the mind-flayer in the show was trying to get to the canon world through Vecna/Peter, why him? last season they made a bully a vessel, now we're aiming for victims of bullying baybeee. and why would a random "demogorgon" kidnap Will in the first place if we have since been shown they are mindless creatures? did the mind-flayer have the demogorgon kidnap a random child? why didn't the mind-flayer try to influence El like it supposedly might have maybe done to Peter if she was so tied to the upside-down that she ripped open a portal to it? Why did it wait 30 years? dramatic timing? why is Peter's left hand like that in his Vecna state? to make him more like Vecna? he would have one hand and one eye.

regardless, I don't want to give the duffer brothers any credit for tripping over the finish line here, because they took a fucking subway off route only to get to the line by taxiing back.

#stranger things #st s4 #st s4 spoilers #rant

[the-firebird69]

We're running up an expense report for the people to pay here of all these costs and stuff that these people here incurred I'm going to bill them for it and if they don't pay we're going to sue them

Thor Freya

I already have that and they're in court for it and I need it too we're assuming them for his boots that he got for free because he had to buy replacements and we're suing suing these people for a lot of stuff. And it's different we don't put what we're suing for but it's mentioned in code and they're going to probably check but they're lazy and we're suing for putting your smirks on your faces and inciting him and we're going to court with you Monday it's a group lawsuit it's a pseudo empire against you and we're going to sue you for sending the world up to fight each other and you did it 4 days and you read it on Dave and you anticipated us doing the job we're also purchasing more companies today there's more pre-purchase and tomorrow it's not a business day for most but it could be it's not it's a formal federal holiday so federal employees have the day off you don't necessarily have to take it off and we would do it out of respect but go and oya say that we should go to work and work on things and we're going to so going to set up meetings today we have four more pre-purchase agreements and I'm in charge of the paperwork if other teams do it I do the final review and it is true:

-I do hear him I got the job but he says I don't want to work for these people so I understand what you're saying I'd help him and it's true we get a lot of attention we needed it and Africa to use it and goo and oya and it says they're famous for being army and they are they've been armies for a long time and tribes and more organized since ancient times and he wants this army to infiltrate a lot more among other things so he wants him to start doing that like I am the head lawyer there's a particular job that I have in mind that he's not familiar with and I'm going to mention it and we'll do it the way we usually do and he agrees and he likes it and he thinks him and he says you're welcome other countries are asking for jobs and assignments and he's trying to think of what they're doing cuz I was helping him but not with lawyer stuff it was it was other things and he did it because of the analogy and he's trying to think of what to do goo and oil say they used to do a lot of stores and they took a lot of abuse and Trump tries to discourage it in a TV movie and it doesn't work actually it's in a movie and we're going to go ahead with that.

We can do more later he's in the middle of this and he's getting a little tired and it takes energy so we are trying to work on that too but we are suing them for what they're doing to him and Monday there's another major point

-we are sick and tired of them bothering him threatening him and harassing him and we are sick and tired of them setting up the entire world and screaming they're going to win they set up stuff and it's not well done they're set up so lame they do not have it and we don't want to hear from them every few minutes momentarily and for real. It is for the pseudo empire maneuver where you can't have them come in and they are saying they're a suitable buffer and holding area for our son and or not we're going to move forward in minority more lock in and they will begin with the India and Pakistan the Middle East one side assignment too but they don't do it as much and cool and oil are going to sit with them and it helps we have tons of work to do and Thor and Freya are strapped this is going to make it work just like my lawyer job and they like doing it and they were good at it and he said some of you were taxi drivers Pakistan and India were fine but Islamic make perfect taxi drivers for some reason and these guys would dig it cuz they're pushovers and they say we like that so now they're going to go sit there and the French and the Europeans those things are trade and the trade people who were running it back then it was Spain and Portugal then it was France and so he wants to elect them to do that and goo and oil once again would be the hub like I am for all the lawyers and we're assembling it now it's a great idea he says and they need it there and it's going to work both ways he'll see what's affecting them but this is a very serious crime with these people here doing they've exposed all the parties and they want to sit here and be big mooches and we're going to go to town on him pretty soon

Bitol and Goddess Wife

It's an outstanding idea and we're going to approve it when you send it in and he wants you to send in a preliminary project permission to work on and we're going to look for that and he says he's going to send it right now

Olympus

We're going to head with our work and we're getting it done and this is great he's helping us in a big way. We also have a huge problem with you people sassing making jokes talking smack you're a bunch of idiots and you don't care about your lies what's heading your way or huge armies whether you can stop them or not is how you react and what you're doing and we don't necessarily need you to be good at it but find out that hardly any of you are serious about anything so when they come crashing through your door and through the gate don't be surprised kind of helps us out. Other things are happening these morlock are talking about going west they're evacuating right now 20% are moving about 2% are at the embarking harbors for ships that are leaving they're not cruise ships there a passenger vessels with their humongous and they are carried out there and so far 1% are on board you might want to make a note that 30% are planning on leaving 20% are out the door and later on today we expect 20% more bring it to 50% of the Mac morlock here are exiting and the pseudo empire is gearing up for another round of pulling you out of here and they're going to go after the clones a lot harder that 50% includes clones they're about 10% of that crowd and they're 10% of the remaining 50% and we expect more to leave tonight by tomorrow we think only 30 to 40% will remain if it's last week won't be surprised you'll become extremely weak here and the pseudo empire is going to begin taking over the state and more will evacuate and by Tuesday afternoon there will be a small percentage here in Charlotte county will be at risk and you're going to be getting working feverishly to get him to Utah however the clones will probably force their way in and you'll try and use it again and it will probably go for another week or so with loading up and emptying and loading up and the pseudo empire will finally try and move the ships because that's what's happening the ships are a disastrously annoying thing and we believe that's what happens and he's right it will it be like a week and it'll start getting aggravated again they've been talking about it and they do plan to try stuff this week and it'll probably culminate at the end of the week we're moving out and we're getting ready for this conflict going on here today and other conflicts that are coming up here they're pretty big and he's important and we're going to work very hard we do thank him for his input this morning and it's helping already

Thor Freya

Olympus

[hazyturmoil]

Why did I have a Second fucking dream about high school smh

#first I was in minecraft world with my roommates in the nether? and there was the same lava I had found in a dungeon irl but in the dream #there was a treasure and then more treasure that broke into a whole new area with a lake and a fuckton of presents and I was able to get #four of them but we had to get a taxi to the real world? because we were stuck somehow?? and I tried to pay the person at the real world #counter in gum but that wasn't allowed so I have her one of my presents which were stacked into one and had to be opened one at a time with #fried chicken which... interesting choice brain... and then we were in my high school?? and it gets blurry for a bit.. at some point I was #in a basement and learned/ revealed that I was a vampire which just was nbd in this world #oh when I walked in to the school everyone looked at me scornfully that's something that happened in the last dream too #and there was a booth and they were trying to remember the around about above across stuff and then I went to the woods?? which surrounded #the school and I was looking for mr tumnus who was a werewolf but I couldn't find him and then there was something about me owning the #booth everyone had been getting into? which meant I had to sit in on I think a school council meeting?? but it was just one teacher and #then a bunch of kids from my grade. and some of them including Calvin were in cosplay club but found it weird that I found it weird even #though I'm pretty sure they just all dressed up as footballer?? anyway people were given tasks and had to do things with trees but no one #used silk touch which I found weird and there was a lil slug guy that became I think presslys to take care of and elli did something with a #tree and plants and then jake got mr tumnus but also there was a giant holding a whole tree walking by which was cool but I heard mr tumnus #and I lept to my feet and sprinted into the forest and yelled for him and this time he came and I hugged him and then jake showed up and I #told mr tumnus the wolf to run and he did and jake was mad at me but I just shrugged and told him if he wanted him he had to get him #himself and that was the end of the dream #insert John mulaney we don't have time to unpack all of that gif

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Four

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,483

Warning: Smut, Semi Public Sex

 ***The Interview***

It’s been three weeks since Kurt’s stunt and things between you and Cillian couldn’t have been better. Whilst you struggled with comments from the press and the public initially, calling you a home wrecker and making an issue out of the age gap between you, it brought you and Cillian closer together and he even defended your relationship in a recent interview.

Whilst you still hadn’t talked about what you were and where you were at, it was clear to you that you were officially dating. But no one really took you seriously. You were seen as Cillian’s midlife crisis.

Cillian cared very little about the press, ignoring the bad rumours and assuring you that none of this mattered.

He was right. It didn’t matter. People were still buying your new album which, under contract, was unfortunately being produced by Kurt. Under the same contract, you were also obliged to engage in interviews and promotional events.

Whilst you were very eager to simply break your contract, Cillian reasoned with you. He was sensible and you were impulsive.

He assured you that breaking the contract would simply mean more bad press and you engaged Cillian’s agent to help you with media engagements. He seemed to take a sensible approach and asked interviewers to not ask you any personal questions.

But this didn’t always work out, especially when you had an interview scheduled with a London based program whose interviewer just loved to get under your skin.  

This interviewer managed to ask you about your alleged affair by referring to some lyrics of one of your songs.

‘Look, my private life is private and I will not discuss my relationship on this show. But what I can assure you is that there was no affair. We both had separated from our partners when we got involved with each other. The song you are referring to was written over a year ago and doesn’t reflect any of my personal experiences. It was written for a movie and just like the movie, it’s fictional’ you explained in response of the interviewer’s intrusive question.

‘There are many other songs you’ve written which come to mind indicating that you do in fact prefer to be with men who are older than you. These songs were all well received but your relationship is not. How do you feel about this?’ the interviewer than asked, not giving up.

‘Again, the songs are fictional, but my private life is not. That might be the issue. It’s all good if it’s fictional but as soon as it’s not, people get curious. Perhaps there is a lack of understanding surrounding relationships that aren’t the norm. Maybe people’s perceptions will change over time. I certainly hope so. After all, there are so many relationships in the history of the world where people have large age gaps and I believe that every adult has the right to date whoever they want without being criticised about it’ you explained before taking a short pause. ‘Anyway, I would prefer if we could chat about my music now rather than my private life. That’s why I am here’ you said bluntly.

The interviewer finally backed off after your request and your agent had already called in, putting the producers of the show into their place.

Cillian had also listened to the interview and texted you, making sure that you were alright and telling you that he thought that your response was well placed.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again annoyed with you and sent you a rude text message shortly after the interview and he couldn’t help but try to get under your and Cillian’s skin.

***The Function***

Later that day, the studio was hosting a release party to celebrate your new album which Kurt had organised at the theatre complex function rooms.

It was a beautiful venue but you knew that Kurt would be attending which could end up being a complete nightmare.

This was also the first official event which you were attending together with Cillian and you raised the question whether this meant that you are his girlfriend now.

‘I suppose….I don’t know…do you want me to be your boyfriend?’ Cillian chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt.

‘I would love you to be my boyfriend’ you giggled before giving him a kiss and asking him to zip up your dress.

‘Well, I suppose I am officially off the market again then’ Cillian chuckled before returning the kiss, which was also when you heard the taxi pull up in front of his house.

Your agent has taken the liberty to invite several producers to the party, much to the dislike of Kurt. Kurt was even more irritated when you finally arrived, together with Cillian who was holding your hand.

‘Y/N…Cillian’ Kurt said greeting you both, wanting to shake Cillian’s hand but all he got in return was Cillian raising his eyebrow.

‘Kurt’ you responded with an almost evil grin on your face and just before Kurt leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

You didn’t stay to talk to him and it wasn’t long until you were inundated by other producers, wanting to talk to you.

‘I told you, she can be a real slut’ Kurt said to Cillian as Cillian gave you some space to mingle, unbothered by the attention you were receiving by several of the producers your agent had invited.

‘And you wonder why she left you?’ Cillian chuckled, thinking that Kurt is an absolute douche.

‘You know she sucked my cock just before I signed her’ Kurt said with a smug face and it was obvious to Cillian that he had been taking some coke again.

‘Nice talk’ Cillian laughed before walking away, getting himself a drink and talking to some of the other artists.

After about thirty minutes you sought out Cillian who was standing next to the buffet talking to two female artists and you decided to give him the same space he had given you. Jealousy wasn’t your thing and you knew there was no need for it.

Eventually, however, you received a text message from him which said nothing but ‘HELP’, making you giggle. He obviously didn’t enjoy himself talking to these women and was being polite, hanging out with them and engaging into some small talk.

Just as you were going to get Cillian away, Kurt approached you.

‘Found a new producer yet?’ he asked and you responded with a quick ‘maybe’.

‘You won’t get the same sweet deal you had with me Love…’ Kurt went on to say, causing you to laugh.

‘You remember that night in the record studio together?’ he asked sheepishly.

‘Yes, I do. You lasted a total of ten minutes which was quite something Kurt’ you chuckled.

‘And I bet these were the best ten minutes of your life’ Kurt said just as Cillian approached you, listening into the conversation and taking in a deep breath.

‘Would you please give us a minute’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily.

‘I will…because my date is here’ Kurt said sheepishly.

‘What, did you hire an escort?’ Cillian asked, looking over to the woman Kurt pointed at.

‘She’s a model’ Kurt explained, not realising that Cillian was being sarcastic.

‘Of course she is’ Cillian chuckled before saying bye to him and this is when you broke out laughing.

‘He’s got the IQ of an ape’ Cillian huffed as Kurt walked away, shaking his head in disbelieve.

‘You are being so polite sweetheart’ you giggled.

‘I am sorry, but he just makes me fucking angry. You know what he said earlier?’ Cillian said but, before he could tell you, you crashed his lips onto yours.

‘Are you angry?’ you asked as your lips drifted apart.

‘At Kurt? Yes’ Cillian said.

‘Good. Come with me’ you winked as you pulled him away from the function.

Without questions, Cillian followed you upstairs where the offices of the producers were located.

‘I saw you talking to these women earlier…tell me about them’ you said as you led Cillian towards the back of the office area.

‘Sorry Y/N, I don’t know much about them, they just…’ Cillian said but, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him with a passionate kiss in front of the door leading to Kurt’s office.

‘Don’t apologise, just tell me. I think there is nothing more sexy than seeing other women want what I have’ you smirked, your hand moving to his crotch.

‘Seriously?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod and bite your lips suggestively.

‘Well, unlike you, I don’t like seeing other men want what is mine now, especially not this smug bastard’ Cillian said before pressing his lips back onto yours for an urgent kiss.

‘Please tell me this makes you angry’ you giggled as you pulled a white card out of your handbag.

‘Of course it makes me angry and, if I wouldn’t be so fucking complacent, I would punch him’ Cillian chuckled just as he watched you swipe the card through the black machine on Kurt’s office door before putting in the PIN on the security keyboard.

‘I’ve got a better idea’ you smirked as you pulled Cillian into Kurt’s office.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked and all you did in response was looking over to Kurt’s study desk.

Cillian’s eyes lid up and, before you knew it, you felt your lower back pushed against the desk while Cillian lifted up your dress and pushed aside your panties.

‘You are so wet’ Cillian growled with excitement as, without warning, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan loudly. He was so aroused and rock hard, ready to take you, but he wanted to play with you first.

‘You do this to me Cillian’ you moaned, throwing your head back and taking in the sensation of his fingers deep inside your tight entrance.

Cillian continued to slide his fingers back and forth within your wet folds, hearing you moan and gasp at the sensation. He then slipped his middle finger inside you. You cried in pleasure. He loved pleasing you like this and started to thrust his fingers inside you faster and faster, watching your body pulsate with his movements.

He hit your g-spot over and over again and you knew what this meant. He was doing this on purpose, making sure to mark what is his and, in the process of it, possibly also mark the carpet in Kurt’s office if he kept going like this.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you cried, your eyes closed as he was manoeuvring his fingers tilted up to get the pleasure spot over and over again until your legs began to shake.

‘You like that?’ Cillian asked softly as he continued thrusting his finger into you and you barely managed to nod.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked at him as he confidently smiled at you. His unabashed confidence was turning you on even more. He knew that no one else ever made you cum like this.

As he continued to finger you, sending waves of pleasure over your body, you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and just as you were about to scream in pleasure, Cillian pushed his other hand over your mouth firmly as you came over his fingers, a wet puddle immediately forming on the office floor.

While your head was still spinning and without allowing you to come down from your high, Cillian spun you around and pushed you down against the cold oak table.

He certainly was angry and you loved every moment of it.

With one swift movement, he lifted up your dress again and pushed down your panties.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed and you obliged, hearing his belt unbuckle and the zipper of his jeans opening.

‘That’s good’ he said as he was positioning his cock directly at your entrance, ready to push in.

Your heart started pounding with excitement and with one hard and powerful thrust and one loud groan Cillian buried himself deep inside you.

You shrieked at the sensation as he immediately and forcefully bottomed out inside of you. It took your breath away and he gave you no chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out of you.

‘You are all mine’ Cillian moaned as he hit your cervix with the tip of his cock for what felt like the hundred’s time.

‘I am yours Cillian, oh god yes, fuck me hard’ you moaned.

Cillian grunted with each thrust, getting more aroused by the second as he was taking you over Kurt’s desk.

Each thrust was igniting a fire in you. It felt so good and you cried at the inexplicable pleasure consuming you, calling Cillian’s name multiple times.

Cillian was grabbing your thighs, prying them apart, and opening you up to him even more. He thrusted deeper and harder into you in this position.

You cried, your nails digging into the wood of Kurt’s desk while your pussy clapped against Cillian with each thrust.

‘I am coming Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and just, like that, another loud moan escaped you and your orgasm washed over you, your legs quivering and shaking as a result.

Cillian exhaled and groaned loudly, leaning in and filling you with his warm cum at the same time. You felt yourself fill up with his seed, exhaling at the sensation. He stayed inside you for a minute, then slowly pulled out. He watched his cum flow out of your opening ecstatically, running down your thighs.

You then turned around and grabbed one of the tissues from Kurt’s desk, wiping your legs clean before throwing the tissue into the bin.

His desk was covered with some of your sweat and juiced and Cillian looked at your flushed, glistening, beautiful face as you were still panting and kissed you softly on the lips.

‘Should we clean this up?’ Cillian chuckled as he closed up his belt.

‘Oh god no’ you smirked before collecting a good amount of Cillian’s cum that had pooled inside you and then licking your finger suggestively before pulling your panties back up.

‘Let’s get back to the party and say goodbye, shall we?’ you giggled.

Cillian followed you and the first person you chose to say goodbye to was Kurt, which surprised Cillian.

Giving Kurt a big kiss on his cheek, you wished him a pleasant evening and Cillian’s chin dropped immediately.

He couldn’t help it but laugh, shake Kurt’s hand, with the same hand that had pleasured you just minutes earlier, and wish him a pleasant night also.

‘You are so fucking bad, you know that?’ Cillian laughed later in the taxi on your way home.

‘He deserved it’ you giggled.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

[togetherweflyhigh]

Chronicles Of Owning A Hybrid| Chapter 1: Here You Are

Pairing: Ragdoll Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Female Reader 

Genre: Hybrid AU, slow burn, eventual romance

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of past harassment/bullying, brief mentions of being gaslighted

W/C: 2.2k 

A/N: So, I wrote something. This was very spontaneous of me but this is my first BTS and hybrid related fic. I very much have plans to have this as a small series. From short to long chapters. I have no idea how much this will be updated. 

Comments and kudos are encouraged! 

It wasn’t supposed to happen, truthfully.

You were asked by a friend to attend a consultation with them because they felt nervous about going in alone. They needed some support so, going with them was going to be fine. Because that’s all that was supposed to happen. 

Now, here you were at your appointment, alone because you weren’t sure how to ask your friend since they were home still getting associated with their hybrid. Nobody knew you were here doing this. Reviewing over a cat hybrid- a Ragdoll- that was on his fourth strike. 

Past families that adopted this hybrid before only saw the breed he was. A pretty Ragdoll cat. Not the human he mostly presented as. They thought that just because he was mixed with a Ragdoll meant he would be gentle, calm, and sociable. A known cat breed to be perfect with families. What they got was the complete opposite.

The most they seemed to be able to tell you was he’d been adopted four times already, the longest housing being six months. He was quiet and didn’t interact much with the other hybrids in the shelter. Mostly stayed in the same areas in the room they had for them. The way they spoke about him, made you think they were trying to discourage you from adoption. You couldn’t see what was so wrong with him even when they were describing him as distant and antisocial, overall unfriendly. It still didn’t make you rethink it for some reason. Something in you wanted to give him a place to call home after hearing all this.

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

A few weeks went by with no word from the shelter. You were starting to think the extra shifts for the past month and a half at work for preparation were in vain. Perhaps they were being more cautious of his strikes and worried you would return him like all the others. If it was, for this reason, you really couldn’t blame them to be picky about who was to attempt adopting him next. You could only hope they cared so much for those in their care.

As you washed some dishes that had been a bit overdue, your phone rang. You weren’t quick to answer, at first, as hope had gone from high to low in the few weeks. Though, you still dried your hands-off because it could have been work. Who knew you’d be seeing the number you’d familiarize yourself with. Your heartbeat must have doubled as you stumbled over, sliding the answer button. “H-Hello?” You answered, cringing over your nervous voice. “This is Hope’s Shelter calling for (Y/N)(L/N), we were wondering if you were still interested in adopting?” The words felt like they were going through one ear and out the other. You weren’t all too sure what to expect when answering the call but hope had suddenly being reassured. “Yes, of course!” You answered almost too quickly. The eagerness felt as if it was spilling out of you at this point. “Great! Would Thursday be fine for you to come in?” It was currently Monday, another few days was nothing to wait for after these weeks. “That works out perfectly.” 

After the short goodbyes were said, you stood there in your kitchen nearly dumbfounded. You were officially days away from adopting a hybrid. Suddenly, the mixed feeling of excitement and worry came over you. The first week was only filled with thoughts of not living in your apartment alone anymore. In the past, you had roommates. Some worked out just fine and others not so much. To the point, you never wanted to experience them again unless it was a close friend. 

The second week was filled with doubts of if you even seemed worthy enough to take care of another, especially when the other couldn’t exactly take care of themselves. Hybrids didn’t have much freedom. They couldn’t go anywhere alone without their owners. Unless they were service hybrids, which there was a lot to go through to get them certified. They really couldn’t do anything and suddenly thinking about that, you realize how weird it’s going to be for someone to call or to even refer to you as their ‘owner’ will be. 

There was no way in hell you could treat hybrids as a pet. They were way more human than human and capable of feelings of understanding, not at all saying normal animals weren’t capable of such. There were a few times you’d gone over to a friend’s house and they introduced you to their hybrid. Sure they had some traits of the animal they were mixed with, but they acted like their human part in front of you for the most part. This was nearly the only time you’d interacted with hybrids. So, the experience was on the low of how they truly acted behind closed doors.

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

The few days of waiting went by sluggishly. Mentally you had a list of things to do or things you thought you needed to do before Thursday. You went out and bought a few different types of clothes, not much as you had no idea of what he would like. Bought more food than you’d ever stocked your home with before, again, not knowing what he would like. There was so much you didn’t even know about him yet, not even his name.

Standing in front of the shelter, the weeks and days of waiting were finally over. The nerves and enthusiasm had mellowed out in the slow waiting days. Though, you couldn’t help feel a little nervous walking into the shelter.

Almost immediately, you were pulled into an office to go over some paperwork. It was nearly the same as papers to adopt a normal animal. It didn’t seem as strict since you didn’t need things for an animal. Though, you were surprised at how they didn’t seem so… disheartening towards you anymore.

Signing the papers felt unreal as the pen glided across the paper. You had officially adopted a hybrid.

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

Being a hybrid wasn’t all it was cut out to be, at least, not for Yoongi. Spending nearly all his life in the shelter. Maybe a year and a half were in actual homes. It was probably not even that if he was being honest with himself, but after the third home, he stopped counting the days and hoping.  

The first time he was adopted, he was around ten years old, a little old for being adopted but nothing too bad. The family was looking for a hybrid around their twin son and daughter’s age, and Yoongi just happened to be two years younger than them. It was perfect they thought. It seemed like a happy family a month in but there was change. The children were constantly harassing him, pulling his ears and tail, pressured him to do things that would get the adults involved to the point of punishments. 

It went on for months before they returned him, saying he was a deceiver and untameable. Yoongi was unsure of what they meant by this as it was their children who were the liars. Even when he told the caregivers of the time he had with them, it never seemed like they thought he was telling the truth either.

It was some years before Yoongi was adopted again. Age thirteen going on fourteen. He was adopted by a young couple. Must have been between the ages twenty-two to twenty-five. He never got around to asking because as soon as he was there he was brought back. The couple seemed to want to prove to themselves that they could take care of another breathing being. That is what he gathered by overhearing them a few times. All it did was tear them apart in the end over disagreements on how to take care of him.

The next two times were practically the same. One was lonely while the other was another person trying to prove something to themselves. Yoongi was done with these humans and their selfish ways. He didn’t want to attempt to get close with them anymore when he knew that they would return him like a replaceable item in the end. 

Yet, another was trying to adopt him again. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He thought to himself when he was dragged into the office to be told someone was interested in him. Being twenty-five years old as a hybrid was considered old. Unadoptable. Plus he was on his fourth strike. A fifth- and by law- would mean he would have to be put to sleep. 

The weeks dragged on because of him constantly denying to see through with this person’s desire to adopt him. It was an actual decision between life and death. He thought about it though. Would he rather be stuck in here? Wasting away inclosed in white walls or to live out in the world just a little bit longer, if the person would let him out that was.

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

The introduction of you and the hybrid, who you now knew as Yoongi was, well, short and awkward. Was it to be expected? The short answer is yes. Yoongi seemed unfazed and distant right away which, in a way, you know he would be like this. The real question was, was he always going to be like this. You were new to each other, so feeling like strangers was going to be present for a while. 

The taxi ride home was silent. Nothing but the sound of wheels on the pavement with random songs playing on the radio softly. You wanted to make some kind of conversation with Yoongi, you did, but with awkwardness still lingering heavily in the air, it was difficult to start with anything. It was interesting to spot his ears out of the corner of your eye, twitching ever so often.

The climb up the stairs was just as silent. Nothing but the taps of feet with some huffs from you nearly the top. No matter how many times you’d walked up these four flights of stairs, you were sure to always be out of breath before reaching your door. 

By the time you reached your door, you were indeed out of breath, and with the last huff, you pulled out your key unlocking the door, pushing it open revealing the seemingly small apartment. “And home.” You spoke out as you began pulling your shoes off, placing them on a rack before slipping into house slippers. “Oh, here’s some slippers for you. If you want to wear them.” You already owned some for when you had guests but you went ahead and bought new ones specially for Yoongi. Looking at them now, they seemed a bit… small. Though it didn’t seem to matter as Yoongi slipped off the shoes the shelter provided and ignored the slippers. 

“I have a room for you ready.” You spoke again after a moment of silence. Seems silence between you two was something you were going to have to get used to. Walking through the kitchen and living area- either side had a room the same size. Though the room to the right used to be your storage and office space, you were able to move things around in your room for your desk and got rid of some stuff you’ve been meaning to. Now the once-office turned back to a bedroom. It was pretty bare besides the matching wood bed and dresser you’d bought.

Moving aside to the doorframe, allowing Yoongi in the room to inspect it. His eyes never seemed to stop taking in things. His ears moved with him as he looked around and his tail was low as the tip curled to one side. 

As he took in the new home, you took in his unique hair color. It was probably the Ragdoll genes but the contrast between his hair and the fur on his ears and tail were a bit different. His hair was silver-grey and as for the fur, it was a bit lighter in the same color. You wondered for a moment if his DNA was manipulative to make the animal features stand out more but you quickly shook the thought away. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable even though it was just a thought. 

“There’s some clothes in the dresser. I wasn’t sure what you like so, there are a few things in the dresser. Just for until we go shopping.” The response you got was nothing but an ‘mhm’. Yoongi seemed uninterested but curious about the clothes you’d gotten. He wanted to know if it was the type they would get him. Well-fitted ones that rubbed and itched all over. As he pulled them out, sure enough, there were the ones he knew he would find but as he kept pulling out and unfolding the clothes he found some that were baggy and much softer. Something about watching him digging through the clothes felt endearing and it showed on your face with a small smile on your lips.

As you turned away to allow him to have some privacy you wondered to yourself what Yoongi would want to have for dinner. 

#min yoongi x reader #hybrid!yoongi x reader #hybrid!bts x reader #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

#spnquotebingo #tony stark #tony stark x reader #cheating #quote bingo #pregnant!reader #divorce #angst #no happy ending #steve rogers #Rogers!reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #heart break

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family I

A/N: As requested (accidentally deleted the ask soz) a Dad!Harry where you visit him with your daughter and you live together as a family even though the reality is far from it. But for the sake of your kid you put up with it. The next part gets better promise!

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

--------

“Charlie don’t get too far,” I call out to my three year old. She gives me a disappointed look but I return one of my own and she drags her feet back to me.

Sometimes it felt like it had always been just me and Charlotte and other times it was hard to believe it would be almost four years since I’d had her. The moment she was born-two weeks early-on a rainy August day, I knew I made the right choice to keep her.

“When are we getting on the airplane?” my daughter pouts. She reminded me so much of her father with her bold eyes framed by her lowered brows. I remember when I held her for the first time in my arms and she blinked up at me, her big eyes were a dewy field reflecting her father. It was then that it hit me that no matter where he and I were on earth-we were still somehow connected. And since I was still in love with him then, it hurt. But I learned soon to pour my love into Charlotte and focus on raising her the best I could.

“We’ll be boarding soon." I pick her up and hold her on my knees to keep her from running off again. This was my first time travelling with her-her father generally came down to LA a few times a year to visit her so we never had the need to make the trip. This time, for her fourth birthday, we’d decided to go to London and stay there for the month. And since I was my own boss, I could take my work anywhere.

“I want to see daddy,” Charlie whines.

"We will babe,” I try to soothe her.

“Daddy” was Harry Styles, the Harry Styles. We met through a friend over six years ago when he was in LA. Up until meeting him, it felt like I was living a grey version of my life. Our chemistry was explosive and our connection instant--colouring my world a vibrant hue. We were in love-so in love I moved to London a few months later to be with him and it was going perfectly until I got pregnant. We agreed to keep the baby-it was a no brainer, but as the months went by and the reality sunk in, our relationship took a hit. Suddenly we were arguing about insignificant things, Harry stayed out late with friends or in the studio and wasn’t as supportive as he should have been, and I wasn’t happy. When I brought up the separation Harry looked almost relieved-which hurt. When I brought up moving back to LA he was enraged, but after a few days he agreed. Now, our Charlie saw him a few times a year when he lived in LA and she would stay with him. Our interactions were limited to picking her up and as I’d heard it Harry had a steady girlfriend for the past year. Despite all that, I still loved him. What we had was unlike anything I’d felt, seen, or read about before. I knew he'd felt it too, the music he released spoke the words he never said. But the ugliness of the last few months of our relationship always kept me from remaining wistful. Harry didn’t want commitement. He only had room in his heart for our daughter and I was fine with that.

We were staying around the corner from Harry’s at an air bnb for convenience. Ever since having Charlotte, I hadn’t been outside of the US so this was exciting yet daunting. The idea of seeing London again, all my old friends, and Harry gave me a rush of mixed emotions.

The landing and locating of our luggage had a few bumps and a minor tantrum but our taxi takes us to the flat where we are met with the hostess.

“There’s been a terrible mistake,” she wrings her hands as we stand in the heat of the summer afternoon.

“What kind of mistake?” My heart drops and there’s a tugging on my dress. Charlotte demands to be picked up.

“We accidentally booked another couple to the flat.” The woman responds.

“What?” If I wasn’t this tired, I would be shouting. “How can you make a mistake like that? I booked this well in advance!”

“I understand,” the woman says. “Your booking must have been accidentally cancelled and I-the couple is fine with sharing the flat-”

“I have a small child with me as you can see,” I cut her off not going into detail why our privacy was extremely important. “I’m not living with two strangers when I secured the place for all of August. This is bullshit,” I spit out, forgetting Charlie could hear me. This trip was not going how it should be. “I’m contacting air bnb and-”

My rant is cut short when my phone vibrates. Harry.

“Hi,” I answer.

“Daddy!” Charlotte yells into my ear. I hush her with a glance and try to listen to what Harry was saying.

“-landed? I was trying to reach you where are you?”

I sigh and give the woman a dirty look. “We’ve just arrived at the bnb and apparently there’s been a ‘mistake’ and it’s double booked so now I don’t know where-”

“Shit, stay with me,” comes Harry's steady voice.

“I couldn’t,” comes my own, slightly less steady voice. Staying with Harry would be bad for me. It would only stir old emotions back up and make it harder to leave once again. I just knew it.

“I’m right around the corner Y/N. Just stay until you find another place at least.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I agree and order an Uber, giving the woman a piece of my mind before I go.

Charlotte had fallen asleep on my shoulder in the midst of all of it so I struggle with the child, our luggage, and my phone when I reach Harry's.

“I’ll be right down,” he says. My stomach is suddenly doing sommersaults and I can barely feel my legs. I saw Harry near Christmas! Why was I suddenly so nervous?

“Hey,” Harry enters the lobby in a black shirt and jeans and his glasses sit atop his mess of hair. “You look lovely Y/N, but that’s nothing new.”

Harry's grin is like a crack in the ice surrounding us and I give him a quick hug hello.

“Let me get that.” He grabs the luggage and we wait for the elevator again.

“She fell asleep,” Harry brushes our daughter’s hands and she shifts on my shoulder.

“She’s been doing that since the ride,” I say. “I think jet lag is already doing her in.”

Harry smiles at her and the tenderness in his gaze holds me captive. It was a while since I saw Harry look like that.

Harry gets the luggage onto the lift and I follow him in. The mirrored interior reflects the glimpses he takes of me but I stay staring forward, not wanting to give in.

“Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I ask Harry when we enter his flat. “That we’re staying with you.”

“About that,” Harry scratches his nose. “I’m sure she’ll understand. We should talk though…about the trip.”

“Of course, let me just put Charlotte to bed.” Harry points out the spare room and I can tell Charlie will like it here with the amount of stuffed animals Harry's decorated the bed with. She was spoiled.

“So you can stay as long as you want here,” Harry begins. “Or if you want to find someplace else I understand. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

He holds my gaze as he talks and I nod along. It was all very proper and polite, almost as if we’d never had anything more than a friendly relationship.

“What’s your schedule like?” I ask. “I know we already figured things out but if I’m staying for a few days here will I be in the way of anything?”

“I’m filming in a few days, I took a lot of time off the next couple weeks for Charlie but that’s it. Then I'm in the studio after that." Harry scratches the back of his head. “Just make yourself at home don’t worry what I’ve got to do.”

“I don’t want to get in the way. I know we didn’t plan for this,” I flush. Harry reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.

“I want you to feel comfortable, love...”

I’m suddenly 21 and Harry and I are on one of our first dates at a bar. He holds onto my hand and tells me he really likes me. He asks me if we wanted to take our relationship past the dating stage. I’m giddy and drunk on love and kiss him yes.

“Mom?” A small voice calls out.

“Yes!” I jump up and shake the memories off, rushing to the spare room. Charlotte sits up in bed with a frown on her grumpy face. “I’m right here babe.” I scoop her up and she holds onto me, already holding a stuffed koala in the other hand.

“So you’ve met Mr. Blake.” Harry walks into the room and points to the koala.

And just like that Charlotte is jumping into her dad’s arms and bubbling with laughter, explaining how his real name is Oreo. My heart squeezes watching the two interact. Charlie is more awake than before the plane ride as she continues with her endless chatter. Harey is wide-eyed and drinking in everything she says. She says something funny and he throws his head back laughing, kissing the side of her head while she giggles. Seeing them two made my heart full.

“Momma I’m hungry,” Charlie says abruptly.

“You must be,” I look at the time. “It’s been a while since we ate.”

“Let’s have an early dinner out,” Harry suggests.

“That’s not necessary-” I try to say but Charlie cuts me off with a big cheer and soon Harry joins in and he’s off with her riding his back with her hands clasped tightly around his neck. I would never win with those two together so I find my wallet and join them.

“I didn’t realise how much I needed this,” Harry says on our walk to the restaurant. It was a ten minute walk Harry wanted to take, reassuring me that we wouldn't be bothered. Charlotte holds her dad’s hand and stares in wonder at the new city around her. “I can’t believe you-she-Charlie hasn’t ever been down here.”

“She was so excited to finally see where her Dad lives,” I laugh at the image of her bouncing off the walls in happiness.

“I think the weirdest thing for me is that my baby has an American accent,” Harry comments.

“I never thought about that!” I laugh. “At least she won’t be saying things like crisps and the loo!”

“Oi that’s offensive,” Harry jokes. “My english is just as good as yours mate!”

“Now you sound Australian!” I tease.

Harry laughs and bumps his shoulder into mine.

“Australia has kangaroos,” Charlotte comments randomly.

“We’ve got a clever one,” Harry winks at me. “They’ve got massive spiders too.” Harry says to our daughter but little does he know she actively picked up spiders.

Charlie starts jumping like a kangaroo and soon Harry picks her up and sits her on his shoulder where she shouts to anybody who listens that she was on top of the world.

“I always tell people she’s got that energy from her dad,” I tell Harry quietly. There a shine to his eyes as he looks to Charlie and she looks down at him and shouts it louder.

“My mum and dad were thinking of coming around this weekend to see her,” Hadry suddenly says.

“That would be nice for her. To see her family,” I say.

“I mean you’d be there too?” Harry says.

“Oh, right.” My mouth dries at the thought of having to see his family. They were a great bunch but the way Harry and I ended things so abruptly was an uncomfortable reminder. “I’ll try to make it.”

“Charlie can have some sort of a normal family dinner,” Harry jokes.

“Both parents and grandparents? That would make her trip actually.” I say with a little bit of sadness. Charlotte wouldn’t grow up with both parents like Harry and I had the privlege of and that hurt me thinking about it.

“I wish she could have that all the time,” Harry sighs. He glances over at me as he says it and there’s something unspoken. But Charlie grabs a fistful of his hair and he has to get her down in her drunken power.

The restaurant is cozy and Charlie talks a mile a minute with the attention of both her parents. Every so often when she says something ridiculous or something related to an old inside joke from years past, Harry will glance over at me with a smile. It’s a secret language between us, and I swear I even feel his hand brush my own but I chalk it up to accidents. Harry had a girlfriend, he had no business doing that with me.

It gets more confusing later that night. Harry had plans to go out at 8 and Charlie falls asleep by half past 7. Being in LA time, I stay snuggled in the couch, watching a random movie Harry recommended. My eyes drift shut halfway but I’m awoken by a bang. My eyes squint in the dark as my hand feels for my phone. 1:47AM the bright display reads.

“Sorry,” comes a voice. The lights flick on and Harry stands dishevelled in the clothes he went out in. “I was trying to keep quiet I di'know you were sleeping!”

He was drunk-whispering which meant his voice was only slightly lower than normal. He stumbles towards me and falls onto the sofa, yanking his shoes off with a great deal of effort.

“Were you sleeping?” He asks me up close.

“I guess so,” I respond. “Did you have a good time?”

A part of me feels awash with sadness, the dull and familiar ache settling into my chest. Another part of me is angry at myself for still being in love with a man who could not love me the same way.

“It would have been nice if you came,” Harry reaches out and twists a strand of my hair. “Are you naturally a brunette?”

“I am,” I say gently. “You should drink water before bed.”

“No-no don’t start taking care of me!” Harry puts a pillow on his lap. “I’m supposed to be taking care of my girls. But I’m doing a shite job I guess.”

He stifles his laugh. I try to stifle the pang in my chest when he says 'my girls’ because it meant nothing more than just words. I couldn’t afford to read into these things. But when Harry switches the pillow to my lap and lays his head down, all self-control gets chucked out he door.

“It’s been so long since we talked,” Harry tries to whisper again. He reaches out to touch my hair again, his fingers lingering on my face before lowering to his side again.

“You came to LA a lot,” in my statement is also an accusation. He never came in to my apartment or asked me to go out.

“You never invited me in,” Harry says quietly.

“Surely I did?” I tell him.

“No,” his reply is almost a sigh. I realise maybe I didn’t make it so explicit.

“My mistake,” I admit. “But you know you were always welcomes.” I trace the bridge of his nose.

“I know,” Harry says with a boyish smile. “I was slightly nervous when we were on your terf. I didn’t ask either-you’re right.”

Involuntarily I brush my fingers through Harry's hair. Instantly, his body relaxes with a sigh as he closes his eyes. So I remove my hand immediately and nudge him.

“I should go to bed,” I wait for him to clumsily get up. We walk to the stairs together where Harry wishes me goodnight. He leans foward and misses my forehead by an inch, kissing my eyebrow instead.

“Night,” I back away into the spare where Charlotte sleeps, rubbing my eyebrow. In bed, I try to sort through my feelings. My eyes land on the sleeping body next to me and I pull her into me. She was all I needed, I try to remind myself. I was only here for her. Harry and I were never getting together again.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #writingsfromhome #idk lol

[madtickler39]

Welcome to Club T’s

One of my fan favorites from the old blog, enjoy:

One could look at Emily and assume her life was perfect A nice home, well off family that was well known in California.  Naturally blonde hair, a petite little figure and long legs all around a smile that could turn a man to stone. Going to movie premieres, sports events and mingling with LA bigwigs, Emily was never long without something to do. Oh dont get me wrong, Emily never complained. She loved her family, loved her friends, loved her job. She’d never complain for a second. But still something was missing.  That’s why Emily found herself where she was, in a taxi outside a new and mysterious club in downtown LA.  She stared at the door for a long time before the driver finally asked “Are you gettin out or what?” Emily came back to reality and paid the driver, and stepped out of her car as confidently as she could.  What she couldn't sell her blue dress and black heels could. She walked into the club like it was nobody’s business, and was an instant bombshell to the eligible young men at Club T’s.   What made her walk into this particular club that night? Well, to understand that, we have to go back a little bit.  Emily had a friend named Stephen, and one time not too long ago Stephen did something she couldn’t get out of her head.  He tickled her.  It wasn’t her first time being tickled, not by a longshot.  For some reason, the feeling she got when he finally stopped kept coming back to her head like a drug, needing to come forward again and refusing any lesser pleasure. She had no trouble finding a man to do anything she wanted, but for some reason this one request proved elusive to her charms.  After a brief search on the internet, she found out that club T’s was the place to find what she wanted.  It wasn’t easy to find out how to get in, the people she was here to see were very secretive.  The main club was just like any other club. The music was too loud, the drinks were too expensive and you couldn’t see or move anywhere.  After a few minutes of moving around she found the specific corner that housed the VIP section of the club, she said the codeword to the bouncer, and with a smirk he let her in.  It was the look a wolf gives a deer after a day without food, and it unsettled her. Inside, the VIP area was another world.  The clothes were different, the lights were a bit brighter, and you could hear yourself over the music.  The men were dressed in anything from suits to T-shirts while the girls were wearing some pretty revealing clothing, anything that exposed the belly, shorts, mini skirts and few of them wore heels.  They wore colored wristbands, green yellow and red.  Green was an open invitation, yellow required an ask, and red meant not to approach.  Emily had a yellow wristband, fastened around her ankle like the website advised. There was more seating space than at any normal club here, couches and chairs everywhere.  The dance floor had some people, but others were chasing each other around the floor, and in a couch by the corner a man had a captive girl in his lap.  Her hands were bound and her feet were in his lap.  As he grabbed the toe of her sock, her bound hands came up to her face to conceal her smile and she shook her head.  He grinned evilly and slowly pulled the sock off, revealing her bare foot. At the edges of the dance floor were a few suspended cages, each with a girl inside and a person outside sticking a feather duster in.  Emily asked the bartender “What’s all that about?”  A cute redhead in a black corset said “Those girls work here.  The customers pay to use the feather dusters for a time.  They can also pay to remove clothing or lower the cages.  It breaks the ice for the newcomers.  Speaking of, is this your first time?” “Why yes” said Emily looking around. “Is this actually for real?” The bartender, whose nametag read “Sam” said “It sure is.  I can lock you in that cage if you’re too nervous to get started on your own?”  Emily blushed, and suddenly a voice came from behind her that said smoothly “Sam, hasn’t your boss told you not to mess with the new talent? Or do I have to tickle you for your tips again?” Sam blushed now, and backed towards the liquor shelf nervously.  Emily asked the tall, suit clad stranger “What?”  He said “Oh you haven’t heard? If you find their service in any way lacking, you have to give them the oppurtunity to get their tips tickled back into them.  That’s why she wears a corset, her pits are her worst spot.”  She hissed “Damon!” So you weren't kidding on the website” Emily asked. “This really is a tickle club.” Damon said “Oh yes, but if you want to see come by when Sam brings my bottle of Dom.  She needs a good tickling to earn her tips back after that hiss…”  Sam gulped.  She’d done it now.  Damon slapped down a 20 and said “Whatever the lady likes is on me.” Sam fixed Emily a drink and grabbed a champagne bottle, but Emily hesitated as Sam left.  Sam looked over her shoulder and said “You comin? This is what you wanted right?”  Emily finished her liquid courage, and followed Sam to a door labelled “Barefoot Room”  Upon entering, Sam said “It’s quite literal, no shoes allowed inside.”  Sam quickly kicked off her pumps and went inside, and Emily removed her peep toed heels to join her. “You learn quickly Emily” Damon smiled as he smiled at Emilys little feet as she flexed her toes “Im just amazed” Emily replied blushing as she felt Damon's gaze on her toes “Theres nothing to feel scared about Emily" Damon smiled as he took a sip of his drink. “so tell me what brings you here”” Emily took a deep breath, and then she started “It all started when my friend Stephen tickled my feet a few months ago.  It felt...well I guess how a normal person feels being tickled.  Sure, the laughing was fun but when it was happening I just wanted him to stop after a few seconds...afterwards I couldn’t get it out of my head.  I tried forgetting it, distracting myself.  Anytime I was alone with my thoughts, I thought of that sensation and how badly I wanted it back.  So I found this place...and here I am.” “And here you are.” Damon said.  He saw Emily look down nervously and said “Emily, come sit by me.”  She came and sat down next to him hesitantly, and drew her feet behind her knees, where Damon couldn’t see them.  It was all she could do not to blush.  He asked her “Sam needs to be tickled if she wants her tips from me, where should she be tickled?” “Her underarms” Emily replied without hesitation.  Sam shut her eyes and raised her arms, beginning to breathe heavily.  She begged “Please be gentle.” Damon looked and raised an eyebrow “you answered that quickly for a newbie; I think we may have a little sadist here.  Sam, I think we should let your new friend here do the honors” Emily looked nervous again, and said “You want me to tickle her?”  Damon nodded silently and said “If you'd prefer I can tickle her.  The whole time you watch her suffer knowing that it's coming for you next…” She was up in an instant, and facing Sam directly.  Sam felt her breathe and winced, that gave Emily an inexplicable pleasure.  She pounced. Emily dug her nails into Sam’s underarms, and Damon smirked as she screamed.  Sam was able to hold her arms up for a few seconds, but within 15 seconds they came down reflexively.  Sam laughed like crazy but Emily wouldn't let up.  Sam tried to turn away, but Emily kept at it, and pulled Sam closer. The punishment became a wrestling match soon as the girls came to the ground, with Emily straddling her hips.  Emily leaned forward and pinned the poor bartender’s wrists over her head and blew on her underarms, which drove sam into a mad fit of giggles.  She begged “HEHEHEHE Stop teasing!” Emily couldn't tell you why she said this, but she shouted “This is club tease!”  Before she could sink her nails back into Sam’s smooth hollows, Emily burst out laughing “HAHAHAHAHA!” And lost her grip. Sam scrambled out from under her, and went to Damon, who was holding Emily’s ankle, with his other hand gently stroking her sole.  She giggled gently with each stroke of his hands.  He patted Sam on the butt and said “That’s enough sweetie.  Call me when you get off work.  For now I have some soft, pretty feet to break in.” This comment made Emily blush, and wiggle her baby blue toes.  As Sam walked out of the room and grabbed her shoes, Emily looked down, anticipating the tickling.  The tickling was slow, methodical.  He was really tickling her brain more than her sole.  Reminding her that he could do what he want, control her body against her will.  He could make her laugh whenever he pleased.  All it took was a foot and a finger.  He had the finger, and the foot may as well have been a plaything of his.  It was in his grasp and she wasn’t getting it out. Emily remained on all fours(or threes, not counting the foot that belonged to Damon at the moment), and giggled when Damon wanted her to, otherwise she just accepted the breaks and caught her breath.  Sometimes she would look back at Damon, nearly melting him with that forced smile.  Other times she looked away and tried to just take it. During a break, Damon rubbed her sole with his palm and commented “I see you took the website’s advice and got a pedicure.  How recently?”  Emily giggled “A couple hours ago hehehe.”  she heard Damon inhale deeply and felt his lips rub along her sole now. His lips tickled ever so slightly. She giggled “hehehehe are you smelling my foot?” She read many of the men here also had foot fetishes, but never expected to find herself here tonight… He replied “You used a vanilla scented lotion.  It’s my favorite.”   “EEP!” She squealed, something had pinched the ball of her foot, and one look back at Damon licking his lips told the whole story.  Could she really drive him so crazy with just her feet? This could add some fun to the tickling...but before she could finish that thought, her mind commanded her to laugh again. Emily fell flat on her belly as she felt a warm, wet sensation streak across her arch.  She turned her head to the side to release peals of laughter, and started pounding the carpet with her fist.  If Damon’s finger was mean, his tongue was just cruel.  Emily was at once suffering and feeling an indescribable ecstasy.  All she could do to cope was laugh, and between breaths beg “Hahahaha! Stahahahahap!” Emily got herself a momentary respite from Damon’s tongue, but only because he needed it to taunt her.  His fingers returned to gently stroking her arches as he taunted “Oh you don’t want this to stop.  If you did you’d pull your foot away.  Look.”  Emily flipped over and saw that his hand was open, only cupping her heel.  He tickled with all his fingers slowly, and she reflexively pulled back a few inches, then paused. Emily hesitated a few seconds, it tickled so bad but there was just nothing like it.  Her foot slowly slid back into his grip, and his hand closed around her ankle.  She gasped, what had she done? Damon taunted “See? I knew you liked it!” And he tickled her sole all over again with his fingers, making her laugh even louder, wondering why she gave her foot to him.  He lifted her foot up to his mouth, but there was resistance from her tight little dress.  Damon lowered her foot and said “Emily, your dress is lovely but if you want to have more fun, it may be best to change.” Emily blushed again and said “I don't have a change of clothes.”  Damon began stroking her instep and commented “Not to worry.  There is a private changing room in here with spare clothes, better for our activities.”  Damon helped her up, and opened a wall panel that led to a cozy changing room. Emily removed her dress and placed it on a hanger, then found a pair of little pink shorts and a white tshirt to put on.  The shirt was awfully short, and only came down to her ribs, leaving her midriff vulnerable.  The shorts were quite short, revealing her long tanned legs. She emerged a little sheepishly, but Damon gushed over her, making her blush for the umpteenth time tonight.  She came up to the couch where he sat and requested “Where do you want me?”  She felt his eyes combing every inch of exposed skin, searching for a spot to make her squeal.  She felt uneasy, but exhilarated. Damon grabbed her by the hand and sat her on the couch next to him.  He draped her legs over his...and once she breathed out he lobster clawed her knees.  Emily shrieked, breaking down in helpless laughter as she tried to sit up and reach his hands. After a few moments of squeezing her legs and knees, Damon began to gently scribble his fingertips all along her thighs and up towards her hips.  Emily’s laughter went up in pitch as Damon reached her hips and pinched, and he licked his lips looking at that bare midriff. Damon gave Emily a break to catch her breath, and breathing heavily she sighed “hehehe that was fun.”  Damon had an evil smirk on his face, she asked him “What is that look for?”  Damon said “I’m going to have that cute tummy of yours next.  But I’m going to give you a choice, my tongue or my hands?”  Emily’s eyes bugged out, and she couldn’t possibly choose between tortures for a moment.  She thought about her feet, and his tongue was much worse there.  She answered “Hands.” Damon smirked, had she chosen wrong? What was he playing at?  She didn’t have time to think any further as ten fingers began wiggling along her midriff, and her tummy exploded with ticklish sensations.  She let out a loud belly laugh, and cursed as her hands wanted nothing more than to seize his and make it stop.  Despite this desperate need, her mind would not allow them, making them twitch up and down her sides in a comical fashion.  The game changed utterly when Damon managed to wiggle a finger into her navel, making Emily scream like a banshee before breaking down in frantic laughter.  She tried to get him off of there, but her hands were swatted away by his free hand.  This was almost as bad as her toes, or that tongue! Maybe she should have let him use his tongue after all… After a minute or so of her navel being explored and prodded, Emily couldn’t take anymore.  Her begs became more desperate, and Damon heard it in her voice.  She cried loudly “Uncle! Hahahahahaha! Please! Mercy! Hahahaha!”  Damon stopped rather quickly, but Emily didn’t manage to stop giggling for another minute.  He rubbed her belly during this time, and at last she recovered.  She propped herself up on her elbows saying “That was wicked...I’ve never felt anything like it before.”  Damon smirked, and said “I bet not.” Before they could say anything else, a blonde woman and a brunette with golden brown hair came into the room dancing with each other, kicking their shoes off as they entered.  They plopped on the couch opposite Damon and Emily.  The blonde said “I told you if we danced Damon would get us a snack!”  Emily covered her face nervously as she blushed like a teenager, and would have curled into a ball had Damon not held her knees.  The brunette asked “Who’s the tickle toy?”  Damon said evenly “Girls, this is Emily.  Emily, that is Shay, and Blair.  Two tickle slaves of mine, who need to remember what happens when they don’t use their manners.” Damon continued “Emily is new, and I think she has had enough for one night.  Blair, why don’t you tie Shay’s arms over her head?”  They got to work, enjoying themselves and clearly under the influence a bit.  Emily asked “So what, just like that we’re done?”  Damon smirked and said “For tonight, after I do one quick thing.  If you want another session I’ll see to it that you can contact me.  Sit tight.”  Damon got up and tested Shay’s bonds, who was standing on her tiptoes in the middle of the room, suspended from a chain.  Damon produced two more cuffs and said “Your turn Blair.”  She giggled as she assumed position for her restraints. Once they were restrained Damon instructed Emily “Give me your sole” holding his hand out.  She placed an ankle in his hand, and he produced a pen.  He slowly and painstakingly wrote something on Emily’s sole, but she couldn’t tell.  All she could do was laugh and scream until he finished.  It felt like an eternity of that ball point pen stroking her arches, but it was bliss for her.  When he finally finished, he pecked each of her soles goodnight and she left for the evening.  She inspected her sole before putting her shoes back on, and it read Damon’s number and address.

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