#so was the fact that God rescued me from that all for nothing?? i feel like since i fell again i fell for good

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can

— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).

warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)

currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!

masterlist ✢ next

By Alana Blake

YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.

Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.

But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."

RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.

You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".

"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.

One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley's inauguration after party at the Grand Havana Room, you just had to be there.

→ Taylor Swift defends y/n y/ln: ''All of you have learned nothing!"

→ Aidan Kim on Charles Leclerc: "Never heard of him until my girlfriend cheated on me"

𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!

You're seeing the top comments.

Anonymous – 4 hr ago

They're both so shameless! and charles was liking tweets saying they were friends like he could really trick us.

kollhha – 3 hr ago

I hate her, Charles dump her ass for the love of god.

adriennewells – 40 min ago

no but seriously what is it about y/n that has men brainwashed?

Anonymous – 10 min ago

They WOULD be cute together, i don't think they're dating though.

June 10th, Los Angeles, California

You fit your life for the past months into two suitcases, and a carry on. Your room at Vic's house is messy and it feels strangely empty without your discarded shoes and dirty laundry on the floor. But it's time to go, you cannot impose your presence in this enormous house anymore. You have felt like an intruder since you started traveling to Formula 1 and coming back every week like this is your hotel and not your best friend's home.

"Are you really going back to New York?" Vic asks from behind you, voice low with sadness.

"Yes, Vic, I have to." you sigh, turning to meet her. She's dressed up in her fucsia workout gear, holding a light ring in her left hand and her phone in the right. Your flight leaves in the evening and you were hoping to have a meal with Vic before parting to the airport, but it looks like she's all booked.

"No you don't," she argues, entering the room. "Hollywood is here, y/n why do you need to go back to New York? You're an actress!"

You feel like a lot of things, except for an actress right now.

"I don't think Hollywood wants me right now, Vic," you say, going back to the unmade bed to lie down. You asked the cleaning lady if she could leave your room for last so you could finish picking your stuff up, and she agreed gently. "Plus, I really miss New York."

"y/n you haven't even visited my store, you can't go!" Vic's tone changes in octave, and it's not her whiny 'please don't do this' tone you're so used to. "I asked you for ONE favor and you're running to New York and you can't do even just that?"

"Woah, Vic, what the fuck?" you use your elbows as support to lean up and look at her. "Calm down. It's okay." you know her tantrum comes from the fact that she truly believes you could boost her beauty line sales and make her store a 'hot spot'. And it would work, for the wrong reasons. You don't want Vic being dragged down into this mess too. Mati and Charles are enough casualties.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Victoria is full-on yelling now, the light ring has been tossed aside. "I have given everything you've asked from me in the past months since your life started falling apart. I think I deserve something in return."

You ignore the bite of her words. She's angry, which is understandable to some level. She doesn't mean it, right? That she always expected something in return.

"Vic, listen, I know how important your store is to you. But I promise you, you don't want the attention I'm bringing to anyone close to me right now."

"Oh, so you're doing this for my own good now?" she scoffs, ponytail flying in the air as she turns around. "Are you fucking Charles Leclerc for his own good too? Or do men's reputations don't matter?" she spits.

You halt completely, halfway out of the mattress. "What did you say?"

"Oh, please y/n. You really want me to believe you don't want to be seen with me to 'protect me'" she throws the quotations in the air, "And yet you went on your pretty vacation with that bitch Matilde, and you talk to fucking Charles Leclerc every day!"

"Victoria, stop," your brain is a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. You’re having trouble catching up to the where the conversation is going. "That was different, Vic. In case you haven't noticed, things can't stop getting worse. My life is not good right now." You choke on the last words, because it's the first time you say such things out loud. You have never been more miserable.

Victoria scoffs yet again, and it’s a tear in your heart. She's really not backing off. "Of course your life isn't good y/n wah, wah. You have money and beauty and a pilot boyfriend, it sucks so much to be you!"

"Why are you so bothered about it? Why is Charles the main problem here?" you wipe the tears from your cheeks, scratching the skin with one of your rings. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"

Everything was alright this morning at breakfast, when you reminded her you were leaving and your luggage was almost done. When you thanked her for taking you in and told her you could never really repay her support.

"Because you get everything you want all the time!" Victoria stomps to you, her face inches away when she stops. "You always get what you want no matter what. It didn't even matter that I said you view him as a fucking piece of meat! He still went after you."

The world moves in slow-motion as her words cascade on you. Your lungs close and your throat tightens again, and you want to fight the panic attack because you just know Victoria is not going to help you. How could she? If she's the one who betrayed you.

"How–Why–" you stutter, the hem of your shirt on your fist. You can fight this. "How could you do this to me?"

Victoria finally comes to the realization of what she let out, and covers her mouth. "y/n no– look–"

"Who told you about the ring?" your jaw is locked and you're trying not to lose focus. "How could you tell them about the ring?!"

"How could you not tell ME?! I'm your fucking best friend, you bitch!" she's raising her voice again, her surprise pushed aside because you're still fighting. "I had to find out through Aidan, months later."

The Cannes party. Of course.

You thought about asking her about it. Telling her it hurt you that she hung out so happily with Aidan when he was the reason you arrived at her house one night in February, frightened, sad, and confused. But you didn't because you trusted her. You would have trusted Victoria with your life at some point.

"It really is you, then," tears are streaming down your face again.

You feel stupid because only yesterday, in another rage-scroll through Twitter, you noticed people were already making theories about how it was Victoria who was selling information about you. And you felt so offended, how could they think your best friend would do that to you?

"How could you, Victoria? How could you make all that shit up?"

You talked to Victoria about the articles. You cried and told her you were sorry you didn’t let her in on the failed proposal, it was something you were still processing and couldn’t bring yourself to talk about, still wondering if it had been a mistake every now and then. You told her how sorry you felt to Charles because he just wanted to hang out with you—to be friends with you—and people marked him down as a home wrecker when he had nothing to do with it.

“It was definitely Mia though, wasn’t it?” She said as she rubbed your back and passed the box of tissues to you. “She always hated you, so weird. It was like she loved Aidan in a fucked up way.” Victoria even shuddered exaggeratedly, trying to make you laugh.

“Yeah I’m sure it was Mia, Aidan just won’t admit it.” You let her wipe your tears and smooth your hair down. Nobody could convince you that your ex-sister-in-law didn’t run to People and spewed shit. It was the most logical conclusion that Aidan was protecting his little sister.

This had been three days ago, she lied and made fun of you, to your face.

"So now I'm a liar? You are fucking Charles Leclerc! Or what, you expect me to believe all you do is hold hands and peck each other's cheeks?"

Again with Charles, it infuriates you.

"You told the press I'm a cheater! And I am NOT with Charles, God you're so stupid!"

"How would I know whether it's true or not? You never tell me anything anymore, do you? You don't care about me! I'm your best friend. I deserve to be your priority!"

"You deserve to rot in hell, you lying bitch." you don't even raise your voice anymore, "How could I ever love you?"

Victoria laughs, and your heart finally shatters. "I would do it again, y/n, because it's what you forced me to do."

The apartment is a mess, and you know it's on purpose. Your clothes are everywhere, the dirt from the plants you kept on the balcony is all over the floor, the coffee table is broken and your room looks like a hurricane passed through. Your coffee maker and your Specialty coffee both lie on the floor of the kitchen, and there is a horrible smell coming from the fridge. Aidan hasn't been gone long enough for things to rot to that extent, especially because every appliance is plugged in.

You don't want to look at the rest of the house, or your belongings. All you do is lean down to pick up your Moka pot, and make time to think, but you're unable to stand straight again. It's like the pain is pulling you down. How did your life become this?

A ruined apartment, a rejected engagement and a backstabbing best friend are things that happen in the movies. You would know. This wasn't supposed to happen to you.

Crying in that ruined kitchen, holding a Moka pot like it's your greatest treasure and not some piece of trash that you will never be able to use anymore, you get angry, furious. Because this is not your life and it was never supposed to be. And it's about time you start doing something about it.

You are sick of running. Of having people question you for not 'defending' yourself when you have no reason to be attacked in the first place. Relationships die, and yours had been past its time to be buried. Saying no is not a crime. And it never will be.

Victoria had burned her own thread with you in the worst way possible because you didn't make her the only person in your life. And you had overlooked every time you felt used by her, unloved, and tossed aside. Friends can break your heart too, and Victoria had ripped yours out of your chest.

Nobody has to tell you who you are, because you know. And you are nothing of what you've let tabloids, netizens and reporters say. You cannot keep running and you cannot keep hiding, and though you wish you had understood that earlier. It's never too late to pick yourself up.

Mildred and Walter are going to be pissed, but their advice was that you remained lowkey for however long it took Hollywood to get their next big scandal. Weeks, months, years.

And you're not about to scurry away into darkness like a rat.

FROM “JUST WATCH THIS” POSTED IN Y/N Y/LN'S YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED JUNE 12TH

[y/n,minute 01:30]: ❝...So I've finally decided to come here and tell you everything that has been happening for the past months. It's the truth, but whether you believe it is a personal choice.❞

[y/n,minute 05:56]: ❝It was a three-year dead-end relationship. You cannot, and should not, have a future with someone who laughs at your dreams, and tells you how you should behave and how to look to exalt him.❞

[y/n, minute 07:15]: ❝I said no. And I have not regret it for one second. I didn't tell anyone because I respect Aidan, although I don't think that is reciprocal by now.❞

[y/n, minute 10:01]: ❝I never cheated on him, and I know the source of those rumors. It breaks my heart to know that someone I trusted made up stuff about myself, and a part of my life that was so important to me. I am not telling you who it was, however, I will take legal action against them if the defamation continues.❞

[y/n, minute 14:54]: ❝Aidan decided to tell this person about our failed engagement, and I do not know if his intention was that this all became public. But I wish he'd been mature enough to handle it privately, like the adults we both are.❞

[y/n, minute 16:59]: ❝I started attending Formula 1 races because of an Ambassador contract I held with Elix until three days ago, when they decided to rescind it.❞

[y/n, minute 18:07]: ❝That's where I met both Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, back in April. Since they are the drivers for Ferrari, we spent a lot of time in the same place, which led to us becoming friends.❞

[y/n, minute 19:04]: ❝Charles Leclerc is my friend and we are not romantically involved, I urge you to stop making stuff up about him too. He never messed with my past relationship, we did not know each other.❞

[y/n, minute 21:55]: ❝When all of this started, I believed—naively— that it could just die down on its own. I am an actress. I was not only 'Aidan Kim's girlfiend' and I am not only his ex-girlfriend now. I am y/n y/ln.❞

[y/n, minute 23:31]: ❝I should have spoken sooner. I should have shut everything down the moment I started feel miserable and out of control. But I also know, I was being crucified so badly because I am a woman.❞

[y/n, minute 26:00]: ❝You have made me feel miserable and anxious, I have suffered from panic attacks and sleepless nights. And I'm not saying this to make you all feel bad and regretful, because the one thing you lack the most is empathy.❞

[y/n, minute 28:45]: ❝But I want you all to think that, if it had been the other way around and Aidan hadn't wanted to marry me, you would have said 'he wasn't ready' and you would have let him move on and find "The One" in peace.❞

[y/n, minute 31:35]: ❝If it was Timothee Chalamet—whom I also have a deep appreciation for—doing RomComs and nothing more, you would call it 'his specialty' and never question his talent.❞

[y/n, minute 33:17]: ❝If I was a man, this wouldn't have killed my reputation.❞

[y/n, minute 36:21]: ❝I will not remain quiet anymore while you step on me and diminish my work. I do not owe anything to Aidan Kim except for the drama the past months have brought me.❞

[y/n, minute 38:11]: ❝I'm going to focus on the future. And I am well aware this will be continue to be a topic of conversation, but I am not scared anymore. Because I know who I am and who I can count on.❞

[y/n, minute 40:12]: ❝If it weren't for my fans, who have been fighting my battles so hard, I wouldn't be here either. They're here for me, and I can never repay such pure love.❞

[y/n, minute 42:22]: ❝If you watched up to here, I'm sure you're wondering whether you should believe all of this, and like I said, it's all up to you❞

[y/n, minute 44:50]: ❝I will not be speaking about Aidan Kim again, so I ask you to refrain from asking about him. It's all been said and done, and I'm eager to move on.❞

[END]

You are looking at the all the comments.

aidanbabes WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH EVEN ON

flowerbedkim Oh so now Aidan forced her to be with him? Bullshit. You are never saving your lying ass y/n, fuck you!!!!!

thatbitch123 You are absolutely right y/n if you were a man this wouldn’t have happened it's so sad

ynbabes2 my queen i waited for you to speak for so long!!! WE HAVE TO MOVE ON FROM THIS

leclercstar you all have made this girl's life absolute hell, i hope you never find peace!! I'm glad she's friends with Charles and Carlos.

presleyvibes wait and you thank people but not Vic who let you stay at her house? you're an ungrateful bitch

albstappen I saw her pic with Lily Muni and I just knew she was one of the good ones

ynmybeloved EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST YN SHALL FALL

kim41d4an IT'S YOUR WORD AGAINST AIDAN'S YOU CHEATING WHORE

June 12th, SoHo, New York.

You are trying to clean the mess around you as best you can. And although you could call someone to help you, sweeping and scrubbing keeps you busy and distracted. The first message you received after posting the video was from Mati a 'proud of you xx, tell me all about it later please!' text that made you take your first deep breath of the afternoon. You made an appointment with a doctor first thing in the morning, you want the panic to go away, you need it to.

Thoughts of how they're destroying you again, calling you a liar and a whore, swarm your brain and you try to toss them in the trash along with your ruined Dolce & Gabbana coat, mysteriously cut up with scissors. You told the truth, and not even the whole of it.

The video is being shown everywhere, you're sure you'll see it tomorrow in Good Morning America where they'll dissect every single move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth.

It's almost 9 pm when you finally stop wiping the apartment down, trying to get rid of every sign that Aidan Kim was ever inside it. It's not true that he paid for the apartment, you picked it yourself and made it a home and then he chose to come and live here, paying the rent once every three to five months. This is your home and you are reclaiming it.

Your phone rings and you take another deep breath before picking it up. Mildred and Walter have resorted to communicate with you through email, so you wonder who it is. Victoria called a few times during the weekend, left voicemails and text messages until you blocked her. Each of them with a new excuse and a more creative way to pin all of what she had done, on you.

It's a FaceTime call from Charles.

"Charlie!" you greet with a smile, before the image of him loads completely. "It's 3 am in Monaco, what the hell are you doing awake?"

Charles shrugs and you notice his bare shoulders, he's shirtless. You're suddenly self-conscious about the way you look. With your hair sticking up from the sweat, your greasy face and ragged shirt. It's a silly worry.

"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and you know he's tired. "I saw your video earlier, but I was doing something else."

"Oh, you saw that."

"I'm proud of you y/n, you are brave for speaking your mind like that. I know it must have taken some effort." Charles moves again and you see his chest, he's already in bed.

"Charles, go to sleep, we can talk about this later," you chuckle, heat is rising to your face.

"I wanted to see you y/n, it doesn't matter what time it is. And I really wanted to tell you I'm glad you posted that video."

"Thank you, Charlie. I should have done it sooner."

"The only one who knows what timing is right for you, is yourself."

"Yeah, I guess so." you sigh, you're exhausted too and you blame it more on the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through than deep cleaning your apartment.

"Are you tired?" he asks, suppressing a yawn.

"No more than you," you retort, but can't help yawning as well. It's a scientific fact that yawns are contagious. "Go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow."

You talked yesterday too, and the day before, and you cried so much on the phone again you thought he would eventually hang up until you calmed down. But Charles soothed you through the phone at 1 am Monaco time and told you to let it all out, and listened without interrupting you once how you called Aidan and Victoria every name in the book.

"Fine," Charles says, rubbing his left eye carelessly. "Will you give me a tour of your apartment tomorrow, then?"

"Yes! I finished cleaning it today!"

Charles laughs softly at your excitement. “We’ll talk tomorrow then, just because you need to sleep.”

“Sure I am the sleepy one,” you roll your eyes and Charles smiles, both dimples showing. “Goodnight Charlie, sweet dreams.” The last part you say it in a slightly mocking tone but Charles doesn’t take it as such, smile widening.

“Goodnight soleil,” he says and waits a few seconds for you to react to your newly given nickname before hanging up, anxious but satisfied.

─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are liking the story so far. We're slowly getting to the y/n redemption. Once again, i really appreciate all of your interactions they mean the world to me. Also check out the series playlist if you haven't♡❞

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#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[fruitsoxs]

this is long so i'm putting some under read more

BUT- Thinking about Astarion with a generally good tav/reader. I’m thinking it’s sort of an enemies to lovers type deal, where the two of you start off the adventure by bickering constantly over what to do. You always want to do the right thing, and it absolutely infuriates Astarion. He pushes back whenever he can, because your little rag tag group has other matters that are much more important than saving children, or rescuing girls from some hag. But of course, he’s always outvoted. You are easily annoyed by his constant complaining whenever you want to do something good, and so of course the two of you are almost always at each other's throats.

“Oh I’m sorry that I actually have a heart.” “You should be- we have other matters to attend to. Like, well I don't know, the thing inside our heads!”

However, there are moments where Astarion comes to learn that he genuinely likes your kind heart. When you easily forgive him for…hiding what he truly is. Or how you lie when a hunter is out and about. There are moments where you tend to his wounds in complete silence, gently wrapping a bandage around his arm. And when he says a quiet thank you, you simply nod and move on. 

He’d never say this out loud, and of course continues to act as if you are nothing but a nuisance, but he starts to appreciate you little by little. You are not just some naïve adventurer who will drop dead if someone were to ask. You are the strongest person he knows, someone he could depend on if needed. He watches you fuss over the group, solving everyone’s problems. He sees how much work you put into making everyone comfortable, and how little you ask for in return. And while he thinks you’re a little stupid for it, he also recognizes that most of his disdain comes from the fact that he wishes he had someone like you to save him when he was at his lowest. If good people like you exist, then why did nobody come to his aid? 

So maybe he gets less snippy. He doesn’t roll his eyes every time you put the mission on hold to do favors for others. Maybe he starts to fall for you little by little.

And maybe it all becomes clear to him when you get hurt.

It was supposed to be an easy little mission. A peaceful meeting that you were sure you could talk your way out of (it always surprised him how easily you could lie your way out of fights). And of course, Astarion and you just had to get in a little spat beforehand, so he stays at the campsite while you’re off bringing peace to the world. He doesn’t expect to see the others come rushing into camp, dragging your weak body along. He doesn’t expect to see you so pale, fighting for your very life-

He rushes to your side, demanding to know what happened. Something went wrong, and somehow you ended up stabbed with a poisoned dagger in the midst of a fight. He feels his insides churn when they lay you down on a bed roll, and he watches as you give him a weak smile.

“Hey fangs.” you manage to get out, entering a coughing fit shortly after. Your smile almost fades when you notice how scared Astarion looks. It isn’t like him to be so worried. You don’t like seeing him like that so you whisper. “It’s gonna be okay-” And gods does it infuriate Astarion that you’re still trying to help others, help him, when you’re basically dying by his side. So he snaps a bit.

“And how do you know that?” He bites at you, pain and anger in his voice. You flinch a bit, letting a silence take over for a second. You slowly reach out to grab his shaking hand, your grip so weak. “Just trust me.”

He sits by your side, barking orders at everyone else- demanding someone heal you. He’s a bit of a prick as Shadowheart kneels down to tend to your wounds. He seems so angry, but everyone can see the way he’s clinging to your hand. Everyone knows what’s going on. And after you’re healed, and left to recover, he stays by your side. 

When the rest of the camp is asleep, he gently pushes your hair out of your face while looking you over. He’s just now realized how hard he’s fallen. While you’re protecting everyone else someone has to protect you. He may as well be that person.

#and everyone else is just watching you two fight going “yeah when are they gonna just fucking kiss already?” #socks thoughts #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion drabble #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons

[meanbossart]

Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

#ask compilation #DU drow lore #bg3 spoilers

[souperbloom]

being in love. [A.I.]

loosely based on lyrics of the song with the same title, by Wet Leg.

roadie! reader x Ashton

in which you realize your feelings for your boss are a lot more detrimental than you thought they were.

this was supposed to be short and i went overboard. oops! enjoy my first post :^)

CONTENT WARNINGS: tension/slight mental angst, mentions of weed smokin', sex in a somewhat public place/exhibitionism, teasing, fingering(f!receiving), dirty talk, degradation, straight up p in v, insinuation of a creampie, porn with plot basically, filth, filth, FILTH (there is something seriously wrong with me).

WORDCOUNT: 7.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You couldn’t fucking stand him.

As much as you wanted to believe that statement, your heart, mind, and soul found every which way to make you believe otherwise.

The days you spent with him dragged on. His over the top personality was like a vacuum cleaner that sucked every ounce of life out of you.

And yet, despite your annoyance with his ability to charm his way towards your demise, the days without him felt like a lifetime.

Since the first time you and Ashton hooked up, all you were able to think about, after the fact, were the things that you really shouldn’t have been.

Almost every night without missing a beat, you’d lie awake in bed; staring off at the ceiling through your post-show exhaustion and reminiscing on the hours you’ve spent with him. Sneaking off between down times and show times. For a quick and casual fuck.

You’d think about his terrible jokes, the little speckles of brown lost between the hues of green in his eyes, or his ability to make you feel like nothing in the best possible way.

You thought about them. You thought about him. All in hopes that one day, you’d think about him so hard that he would just vanish.

It was reverse psychology, you thought, a way to turn that fluttering feeling you get when you’re around him into something a little less existential, and more like you had both originally intended.

Something more casual.

You didn’t like the fact that he had this effect on you. He was about as brutish and irritating as the day is long. When it was just the two of you, you wished more than anything that he would stop being so damn’ sweet and charismatic. The thought of him calling you nicknames and whispering sweet nothings in your ear made you want to curl up and die.

But the vital organ pumping blood through your veins begged to differ.

Whenever he was around, the pounding of your heart against your ribcage was so deafening, you were almost certain that he could hear it.

It felt strange to wake up, to lie down, to close your eyes and think about anything else. You couldn’t even eat without the thought of him stirring up nausea in your stomach. It was almost as if nothing you did could satisfy you. Nothing you did was right.

Because any time without him felt so wrong.

There were moments in which you wondered whether or not he could feel it too. You'd catch him staring at you from across the dressing room, his eyes lingering down your frame for a millisecond longer than normal.

But you're never quite able to figure it out. To figure him out. He was a thousand piece puzzle, and you were stuck looking for the last piece between the couch cushions.

"Yo, earth to Y/N. Did we lose ya' again?"

Your trance is broken by the sound of Calum's voice. You had been so wrapped up in your own pity-party that you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of a conversation.

"Jeez, are we really that boring?" Luke laughs out, leaning back in his seat, "I thought our conversation about green tea was quite compelling."

"Sorry, sorry..." You try to snap yourself out of whatever God forsaken rut you've dug yourself into, covering up the awkward silence with the clearing of your throat. "...I guess I don't like green tea as much as I thought I did."

"I'm with Y/N on this one. Green tea is fucking disgusting." Michael comes to your rescue with his reply, which practically had you kissing his shoes as a thank you for saving my ass.

"You guys clearly have no taste. It's simple." Luke shrugs, taking a sip of his ice water. "I know if Ashton was here he'd be on our side, right Cal?"

Calum nods his head, "Speaking of Ashton... where the fuck is he? He said he'd meet us..." he pauses his sentence to look at his phone, "...like, an hour ago."

The pit of your stomach lurches at Calum's observation. He was right. Ashton had said he'd be down in the lounge... after he took a quick shower.

But then again, a quick shower was one of those double entendres in you and Ashton's world. Was he waiting for you? Did you misread his subtle glance after he walked right past you when you tried to hand him his water?

Or maybe that wasn't the case. Maybe you’re just overthinking things.

Maybe he just looked at you because he's your boss and you're his roadie; who he just so happens to fuck from time to time.

That's all it was. That's all it ever will be.

"I can go look for him?" You blurt, immediately wanting to smack yourself in the face for sounding so small.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N. He'll find his way down eventually." Michael sighs.

"He's like a ghost, dude... He disappears for hours. Doesn't answer his phone. Then suddenly, POOF, he appears out of thin air. It's fuckin' witchcraft, I think..."

Calum's comment earns a roaring laugh from the rest of the guys, but you weren't at all laughing. You were too busy debating walking out of the door and hoping they wouldn't notice you were gone.

"I don't think I believe in ghosts..."

Another dumbass conversation ensues.

"Are you kidding?! Since when did you stop believing in ghosts?!" Luke seems genuinely offended by Michael's admission.

And yet, you were stuck there. Wanting to rip your hair out as a giant cloud of sex-driven frustration rained down on you.

"Speaking of ghosts," you can't help but interject, speaking a little louder than you had originally anticipated, "I think I’m gonna go look for Ashton. He's probably off haunting the bar down in the lobby…"

"Well, if you insist," Calum says, saluting you, "good luck, ghost hunter."

As you exited the lounge with no issue and let the boys be boys, you thought to yourself.

Hm, getting out of there was a lot easier than I had anticipated.

But what you hadn't anticipated was the sheer speed in which your feet would pound against the floorboards once you started off down the hall. For you knew just where to look for him.

You were on a mission. A mission to find Ashton, in hopes that he could be the one to free you of the confines of your frustration. In the best way you both knew how.

Once you made it to the elevator corridor, you had to take a moment. To collect yourself and think... what the fuck are you doing?

Did you really think that fucking Ashton would get your mind off of the romantic connection you so desperately craved in him? Did you really think this was the best idea you've ever had?

The answer was no. You knew that this whole ordeal would dig your metaphorical grave ten feet deeper. But you honestly didn't have the energy to care. This witch hunt has turned into merely a way to get off.

Just like God intended.

You step into the elevator, already knowing your way around this hotel like the back of your hand after only being stationed here for a few days.

As the elevator made its' trip up to the rooftop, your senses were heightened. The elevator dings sounded like sirens and the climbing of floors was pushing down on you, making you feel as though the oxygen in your lungs was being forced out by the altitude change.

Your symptoms couldn't be explained by anything other than Ashton, as much as you hated to admit it. It was typical for you to feel this way whenever you answered to his beckoning call.

Just a quick and casual fuck. Quick. And casual.

You tried to focus your mind on those two words. Forcing your conscious out of habit and tricking yourself into believing them.

But as soon as the elevator door slid open, those two words were nothing but dust in the wind.

All you could see in the darkness of the twinkling summer sky was the curve of Ashton's shoulder, highlighted slightly by the patio lights. He was looking out past the glass that surrounded the rooftop, off into the New York City skyline.

You froze up upon seeing him, barely managing to step across the elevator threshold without vomiting all over your shoes.

There were remnants of smoke lingering in the air around him, a familiar, earthy smell touching your nose upon piecing your two senses together.

Before you could tell your brain to step forward, Ashton's head turns to face you. You finally get a look at him, a good look at him.

And fuck, did he look divine.

His hair was partially wet, rogue curls hanging lowly on his forehead with that post show gleam still laced throughout his features. He scratches at the stubble on his chin, a droplet of water dripping down his temple upon doing so.

"Y/N," he leered, the blank expression that once painted his face now lifting into a smirk.

"Ashton," you reply; although small talk is the last thing you wished to be having at the moment.

"Where've ya' been?" he asks, leaning his arm to rest against the back of the couch he was sprawled out on.

"The lounge... The guys are down there waiting for you, y'know." You try to divert the attention away from yourself. But you knew for a fact that you were the only thing on his mind right now.

His eyes scan your body. Up, and down. Up, and down. Like he was stuck in some sort of trance. "Well, that's funny, isn't it. Because I've been up here… waiting for you."

You fuckin’ knew it.

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

He pauses, thumbing at his chin, "I'm not sure, actually... 'Thought you would've had me figured out by now."

It was taking everything inside of you not to run over there and smack the shit out of him for being such a snarky asshole. But you were well aware of the dynamic between you two; this type of banter wasn't out of the ordinary.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me, honey?" Ashton remarks, calling you by that nickname that makes your stomach hurt and revealing his hand from behind the couch; a lit and half-smoked joint plucked between his fingertips.

Without another word, you walk over to him, slowly starting to display more and more of his body laid out on the couch.

He had on a loosely fitting Hawaiian shirt, one of the ones with only half the normal amount of buttons, and a pair of grey sweatpants. To contradict the tone of the outfit and make it totally clear to you where his head was at when he put them on.

The Hawaiian shirt hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collarbone decked out in beaded necklaces and braided silver chains.

You wanted more than anything to take those chains between your teeth as he hovered over you, pinning you down and fucking into you like you were the last two people on Earth.

Sidetracked, Y/N. You’re getting sidetracked.

When it came to hooking up, you and Ashton had discovered a natural rhythm. A routine, of sorts, consisting of unspoken demands and a whole lot of Ashton holding the reins.

No need to give orders, or ask for more. You both knew what you wanted and exactly how to get it.

But that routine so deeply instilled in you had seemed to vanish as soon as you stepped in front of him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you teetered from side to side, just admiring Ashton in all of his residually high glory. You wanted to say something, but couldn't bring yourself to say anything else but these two words:

"Fuck me."

His eyes widen in shock. Amusement, even. The joint between his fingers dwindling down to the roach and leaving ashes in the wind as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Y/N, I—"

You cut him off abruptly, "It wasn't a fucking question, Ash."

You didn't mean to come off so bossily, but at this point you were willing to do anything to forget about the weight that came with having alleged feelings for him.

Even if that something was letting him fuck you until you cried.

"Right here?"

"Yes." Your heart was racing.

"Right now?"

"Yes." Reminiscent of a heart attack.

And then he does something that makes you even more frustrated than you were before this entire ordeal. He looks at you, without a care, and just… shrugs.

“Works for me.”

You hated that. Oh, you fucking hated that. That cocky, ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. It gets you so worked up that you consider winding up your fist and cracking him the jaw.

But you don’t end up going through with your desires to hurt him at all. Instead, you’re pouncing at him. Scrambling to straddle his comfortably spread legs as he pulls you by your cheeks into a heated kiss.

You sigh upon feeling your lips on his, Ashton just as well. The both of you tend to melt into each other’s palms when your lips connect; which is another reason as to why your head was all fucked up and sideways in the first place.

As the kiss between you grows more primal, you find yourself taking out your frustrations and feelings on Ashton’s bottom lip. You sink your teeth into the soft flesh, tugging it down gently towards his chin.

His hands fumble for the button of your jeans, grunting lowly as he struggles to get it undone.

"Fuck— Get these… Get these damn things off…" The remark flies past his lips, and yours, in a disgruntled huff. You do as you’re told, momentarily disconnecting from him.

When you rise to your feet, being held up by weak, unreliable knees, he looks up. That face of amusement was still painted on, mocking you.

Was he still thinking about your desperate demand? Or was he just enjoying the view?

"Someone’s a little greedy tonight," he says, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his fresh, now sweaty, curls.

"I don’t wanna hear shit from you. You’re the greediest motherfucker alive." You tease back at him, undoing your zipper and shimmying out of your jeans.

"I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Miss ‘I never know what I want and I need Ashton to tell me’.”

"I knew what I wanted tonight, didn’t I?" His threats were empty, but you were loving it. You loved to tease, loved to be teased.

"That is true,” he sighs, looking down at the roach he had flicked onto the floor. He stomps it out with his steel-toed boot. "But that’s, what, one time—? Out of the however-the-fuck many times we’ve slept together?"

“You’re making this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Ash. Fuckin’ live a little.”

You were now in your t-shirt and underwear out on this rooftop, telling Ashton to live a little while you’re practically caving in on yourself in embarrassment.

"But, honey... why out here? Why right now?" he asks. Genuinely. Almost sweetly.

You didn't want to admit the real reason as to why you were acting so curtly. The embarrassment of sounding desperate and needy was doing numbers on you already.

"Does there always need to be a reason why?"

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling overexposed. But Ashton’s eyes scan down your frame as if there’s no shame left in the world.

"My apologies for seeming hesitant... You know full and well— I’d do you any time, any place.”

"Is that so?” you quip.

"I don’t think you realize how often I think about having you bouncing on my dick while I’m out on stage performing, so— yes, that is so.”

The way he admits this all so casually makes your stomach turn. You knew he was dirty, but not this dirty. You just assumed he knew that there was a time and place for all of these thoughts.

And the fact that he was thinking about you at all wasn’t making this any easier.

"Well?” Ashton snaps your mind out of the gutter. Ironic.

"Well what?"

"You just gonna stand there in your underwear?"

Oh. Right.

After a moment of blundering awkwardness, you walk towards him timidly, feeling as if your soul was freeing itself from your body as he extends his arms out to hold you.

You make your way back into his lap, digging your knees into the cushions comfortably beside his thighs and letting him run his blistered palm down the side of your face.

His bloodshot eyes find yours like a magnet. Your breath is trapped somewhere in your larynx as his hand continues its journey to your neck.

You felt like you were about to burst at the seams, the tension and friction building between you was like a bottle rocket, ready to set off into the sky.

And with that, exactly on cue, your heart is racing, as he cups your throat between ring finger and thumb. Your rattling ribcage was telling him all he needed to know when the pads of his fingers began to squeeze gently.

You close your eyes, "Ashton..."

"Y/N..." He repeats matching your hushed tone, swallowing the lump in his throat as your noses brush together.

His nose grazes yours with fragility and tenderness, his touch as light as a feather. But you couldn’t stand the space between you two. The clear disconnect between your lips and his.

He seemed to be lingering longer than usual. You found yourself wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Since you had clearly told him what you wanted a long time ago.

"Why aren’t you kissing me?" you ask quietly, still so close to his face that his features had gone blurry.

"Could ask you the same question, honey." His breath fans across your face and suddenly you’re reverting back to your old ways. Back before you were so— demanding.

“Well, not to be clichè, but— you’re meant to take the lead here, Ash.” You say it as if it were obvious, but he disagrees.

"Clearly not tonight."

Now, you were stuck.

You came up here to find him for one reason, and one reason only. To fuck him… to get your mind off of him.

But that all sounded a bit complicated, though. Didn’t it?

"Y/N…" He says your name again, reminiscent of pure honey dripping off of his tongue.

"Hm...?"

God, what is with him and saying your name?

"Is there something on your mind?"

You cock your head, "Would you still fuck me if I said no?..."

Ashton’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead.

"…Even if I wasn’t telling the whole truth?"

He backs away from you, giving you a better look at the confused expression laminated across his face.

"You’re a real card, aren’t’cha?”

His confusion melts into a smile, as he removes his hand from your neck to match his other at your waist. "You know I’d never force anything out of you, Y/N. But— just so you know… Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom."

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his terrible cliché, finding your hand lost in his unruly curls. "You’re such an old man."

He winces, "God— please… Don’t put that picture in my head… It’s killing the mood."

In the brief moment of silence and sweetness shared between you and him, it was taking everything inside of you not to scream at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to scream; Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you. Ashton Irwin, I am in love with you… over and over again.

Until it didn’t mean a thing.

"Not gonna lie to you, honey— M’gettin’ impatient." Ashton lets out a deep sigh, his eyes snapping you out of a downward spiral.

"Right, right. I’m sorry—"

You cut yourself short by reconnecting your lips to his. You missed this feeling, even after only a few minutes; something inside of you dies every time you pull away from him.

He pulls your waist into his torso, pushing you down and grinding you against the already hardened length in his sweatpants. The wildly thin material left no room for the imagination, as it was now creating friction against your wet panties.

"Fuckin’ hell, Y/N—" Ashton mumbles through your lips, and you just sigh. You sigh into him like putty in his hands, creating a rhythm of swiveling hips and only furthering the fireworks that were occurring in the pit of your stomach.

He removes one hand from your waist, blindly finding the waistband of your underwear like it was some mindless, natural instinct.

Muscle memory is a damned thing.

Detaching your lips from his, you whine. "Ash, please—"

You wince internally at how needy you sounded. How desperate and completely disheveled you’ve become at his touch. Yet the blistered pads of his fingers continued to trace slow, taunting patterns along your bikini line.

But as your breathing becomes more erratic, Ashton reads you like the book he already knows so well. Front page to back, cover to fucking cover.

He dips two fingers down into your underwear, attaching them to your sensitive bud.

You writhe above him, but he keeps you grounded, anchoring his hand on your waist with his forehead pressed against yours.

His eyes flutter closed in delight. "So fuckin’ wet for me, yeah? This’ all for me, honey?"

It felt like he was mocking you. Of course it was for him. It was all for him. Anything you ever did was for him. Any feelings you’ve felt, thoughts you’ve had, stories you’ve told… they were all for him.

You can only bring yourself to nod.

"Good, good…" he sighs, breathlessly, "Gonna’ take me so easy tonight…"

He continues his rhythm. One finger circling your clit while the other ghosts over your entrance. Heavenly sighs fall from your lips. You want to close your eyes, you want to enjoy the sensation as it were.

But you just couldn’t look away.

"Look at me, Ash."

A bout of confidence rolls through your veins and you aren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you had no complaints. Your foreheads being pressed together was making you antsy.

His features were still blurry through glossy eyes, which you didn’t really like. You wanted to get a good look at him before you tried to dismiss these feelings, and pretend as though he meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

He does as he’s told, and backs away from you. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he took in every single feature, etching, God knows what else, on your face.

"You know how fuckin’ beautiful you are, Y/N?— Always so good for me… like an angel… heaven sent."

Those words unleash something inside of you. Tears begin to brim at your lower lash line and you’re suddenly reminded of the feeling that you are so desperately trying to forget.

Existing in this world with him felt so strange. You truly believe he was sent down to Earth to smite you and haunt your memories.

And hearing him call you an angel didn’t help a damn thing.

The words you utter next come out just above a whisper. Your throat feels gravelly, and dry. Like you hadn’t drank water in years.

"Fuck me, Ashton. Just— fuck me, please—"

"M’gettin' there," he grunts, ignoring your plea and still chipping away at your decorum with his bare hands.

You let out a loud, high pitched mewl as you feel his two fingers now inside of you. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you, always making sure that you’d be the one getting off first, even if he didn’t get the chance to.

Now, you’ve found yourself thinking in depth about just how thoughtful he is.

Jesus fuck, give it a rest.

"You know how much I adore those sweet sounds you make. But you’ve gotta be a tad bit quieter for me, alright angel?"

Oh god, you thought, this nickname better not become a recurring thing. You weren’t even sure you’d be able to fathom the thought of him thinking of you so highly.

"Okay, oh— fuck, Ashton"

Your brain was moving at a mile a minute. While trying to be quiet and simultaneously losing your head in the process, a smirk slides across Ashton’s face. He picks up on the signs, he notices your movements on his lap becoming more and more frenzied.

You knew you were close. He knew you were close.

Oh, of course he fucking did. He knew you like the back of his hand.

"Ash, I’m close… Please—" You begged empty pleas, finding stability with your hands clasped around his neck as you jerk forward with that fluttering feeling.

"I feel it comin’. Bein’ so— so good… C’mon— give it to me."

His two fingers thrust in and out of you while a third circled your clit. You wanted to scream, but he told you to be quiet. You wanted to kiss him, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from the purely concentrated, almost sadistic look in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… that’s my fuckin’ girl…"

The sounds of your wetness boom through your head along with the sounds of his praise, slowly meshing into a garish ringing in your ear. The butterflies once encased in the pit of your stomach had set free, fluttering along your body as Ashton’s rhythmic fingers come to a slowdown.

"Fuck!" You cry out, as your body collapses into his chest.

You could feel his ribcage shake with laughter, as he takes that free hand of his to rub your back. Your head is tossed over his shoulder as you manage your breathing.

"…Is that all you’ve got in you tonight?"

You could barely hear his voice over the ringing in your ears, as you heave like this was the last breath you’d ever take. He then removes his fingers from inside of you, causing you to jolt, still sensitive from the electricity coursing through your veins just moments before.

"N—no…" You stutter into his neck.

"You sure?"

"Uh-huh."

Your head was still spinning while you tried to cool down. The temperature of your bodies entwined was like a hot stovetop, setting your skin ablaze. But you couldn’t find it in you to lift yourself up from the crook of his shoulder.

You liked it there. It was comfortable. It felt natural.

After a few moments of silence and messy breathing, you lift your head up.

"All good now?" He asks, running a hand down your waist.

"I think so... Almost knocked me out with that one Ash, not gonna lie."

All he does is laugh, before hovering the two fingers he had used to unravel you with in front of the both of your faces.

"See this?" He examines his fingers, still glistening with your secretions, "Is this what I do to you?"

Your jaw falls open slightly, "Wh—"

He takes a moment to think to himself, pushing his lips to the side while you just watched in complete awe.

"…I wonder if my honey girl tastes as sweet as she looks?"

You don’t even have a moment to blink before he takes those two fingers into his mouth. He sucks whatever’s left of you off of his digits, before pulling them out with a pop.

"Mmm," he hums, "Just as I’d imagined… Sweet as fuckin’ honey"

Something inside of you snaps, and you’re suddenly reattaching your lips to his. He moans into you, taken aback by your actions with his hands fumbling to grab your ass and grind you down into him.

"I need— I need you…" You mumble into his lips, not long before he juts his tongue out to run it across your bottom lip.

His stubble scratches against your palms as you grab ahold of his face, trying to ease him into you as if it were even humanly possible to get him any closer.

"Need me t’fuck you, honey? You— you want me that badly?" He asks quickly, sounding out of breath already from the sheer friction of your hips grinding against him. You nod rapidly, and he dips down to kiss your neck to let you know that he heard you loud and clear.

“Please, Ash…" You couldn’t help it, your mind was still reeling, "I need to feel you—"

Your words come out airy and forced, like somebody was squeezing them out of you. But you couldn’t stop yourself no matter how hard you bit down your tongue.

"...Fuck me like I’m worthless… Fuck me like I mean nothing to you at all…"

His head pops up from the crook of your neck, a sardonic look in his eye.

"Say that again for me?"

"…Fuck me like I mean nothing to you, Ashton. Fuck me like I mean nothing at all.”

You couldn’t describe the way his face changed. The way it morphed into something that you weren’t at all used to. It wasn’t sarcastic, no. It wasn’t the usual cheeky grin, either.

You were afraid that you had just dug your grave even deeper this time.

"Stand up." He demands shortly, which brings goosebumps across your arms.

"Stand up?" You repeat, like a goddamn lovesick puppy.

"Stand the fuck up, Y/N."

You do as you’re told, wearily, lifting yourself off of him and rising to your feet. You watch in anticipation, crossing your arms over your chest as he remains sitting.

The dynamic between you two had shifted drastically. It was clear that Ashton was still in charge, only this time, it felt absolutely terrifying.

You wished you hadn’t said anything at all. You wished he had just let you ride him, as you were planning to do. But your emotions gotten the best of you. The thought of caring for him so deeply had actually brought you to spiral out of control.

What you had been longing for, all this time, was about to come true.

With that, you planned to do everything you were told. Each and every single order barked at you was to be followed. You wanted to see what it felt like. What it felt like to feel nothing for a change.

"Walk to the balcony." Another demand. You hesitate, still dealing with a subconscious battle of self. Your heart and brain were going at it like two bulls in the ring.

"Are you— are you gonna come with me?" You find your gaze glued to the patio, feeling as small and as meek as ever.

"Meh, I’ll make my way over eventually."

Fair enough.

You walk over towards the balcony; left only in your thin, grey CREW v-neck and a pair of frilly, sage green underwear.

The fact that Ashton didn’t comment on the color of them made you feel a bit discouraged. Green was his favorite color, after all. You at least thought he’d take a moment to appreciate it.

God knows that moment won’t be happening now.

You start to near the glass railing that surrounded the rooftop. But despite your back being turned, you could completely feel his eyes searing bullet holes into your flesh. A chill ran down your spine, uncomfortable with the feeling of being watched, yet enjoying the fact that it was by him.

"Keep walking."

You were getting so close to the glass that it actually started to feel cold, despite the lingering August air.

You also weren’t sure where his head was at. Him having you walk towards the balcony that was completely out-turned and visible to the street below almost felt like he was trying to humiliate you.

But that feeling was quickly washed away when you felt his footsteps behind you.

"You have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into, honey?” He inches close to you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating onto your back yet still too far away to touch you.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “No… I-I don’t think so…"

You were telling the truth. No, Ashton, you had not a clue what you had just gotten yourself into. The absolute wormhole that you had just unlocked for yourself.

A new way to feel about things. A new way to feel about him.

Another wave of chills runs down your back as he takes the back of his hand and runs it down your shoulder. You wince, wanting nothing more than to turn around and kiss him.

"I didn’t think you had it in you."

"What?" Your voice comes out high pitched. Almost… nervous.

"To order me around like that. To finally buck up n’ tell me how to have my way with ya’… It’s honestly— kind of impressive."

His hand strokes down your arm once again, but this time, you just sigh.

He thinks this is just roleplay.

Little did he know that all of this nagging and bossiness had come from the truest, most integral parts of your soul and your longing to forget about the way your heart beats for him.

"You think so?" You try to gain back your sparkle with a witty reply, "How else can I impress you, Ash?"

All of these words exchanged between you two were said facing away from one another. You hadn’t the energy to care, nor the energy to make this anymore meaningful than it was, or was not, supposed to be.

You’ve finally decided to let go.

"Well, you can start by bending over." He snaps back. He’s always been so quick with his words.

To follow your mantra from before, you do as you’re told, bending over slightly and exposing your bare asscheeks to him. You lean your arms over the glass railing, your wrists going limp in doing so.

"’Like the view?" You ask, sparing him a glance over your shoulder in hopes to get a little more of a rise out of him.

"The view won’t mean much while I’m using you, honey."

Your face grows pale, a rush of static that felt like pinpricks crawls across your body. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ashton.

The excitement and rush of it all is now, finally, catching up to you. You were about to have meaningless sex with the person that means the most. In a way, it did feel like roleplay.

Except your role was pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about him.

"Gimme’ your wrist." You hear Ashton bark another command from behind you, along with the shuffling of fabric. Before you could even offer your wrist to him, he’s taking it upon himself to reach up and grab it.

He swiftly pins one of your arms behind your back, making you gasp and teeter on your feet.

"Ashton…" You try to say, but are immediately silenced by his other hand hooking a finger to the waistline of your panties.

"Don’t say another word, Y/N. You’re in no position to talk right now."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, now with your one free hand anchored to the railing. It was all a waiting game, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely turned on by him and his newfound unpredictability.

"I have a job for you." His voice rings in your ears, as he bends down above you to be parallel to your curved back. "…Think you could follow some orders f’me? Just for tonight?"

Just for tonight, you thought. Just for tonight.

You nod at his question. It was the only thing you were capable of doing, anyway.

"You’re gonna take my cock… But I don’t wanna hear a peep from that dirty mouth of yours. One fuckin’ sound and I swear… I’ll send you back downstairs with mascara running down your face and nothin’ to fuckin’ show for it."

You nod again. You were a nodding, blubbering mess.

"Think you could do that for me? Think you could be good enough for me to let you cum again?"

You nod, once again.

"And you told me what you wanted, right? Told me loud and clear how you wanted me to treat you? Out here— where there’s a small chance somebody could walk in on this?"

His pelvis presses against you as he taunts, and you’re left feeling even weaker in the knees.

This time, it wasn’t a nod. It was more of a sob.

"Good, good to know…" He softens his tone, lips now centimeters away from your ear.

"…Now bend the fuck over n’ let me use you like you’re nothing."

In a flash of vibrant colors swirling around the backs of your eyelids, you feel Ashton push your panties aside. He runs two fingers up your damp slit, bringing your face to a pinch.

You were still so sensitive after letting him have his way with you the first time. But you couldn’t fathom going another minute without the feeling of him buried inside of you.

"Please—" You whisper, but only to yourself.

You didn’t want to know what he’d do if he’d heard it.

His next movements were methodical, and slow, like he was a puppeteer playing with your strings. His hands dance along the sides of your hips, moving up to rub the small of your back.

He puffs out a breath, seemingly taking you in from behind.

"You're a fuckin' vision, Y/N... It's too bad you don't want me to treat you that way."

His ceaseless taunting was making your vision go shaky.

But you needed to keep reminding yourself... you fucking asked for it.

"Gonna let me use you, honey? Like my own personal doll... that I can toss around n' rough up... Mmm, 'bet you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

"Ashton..." You can help but let his name tumble from your lips. But in a flash, his hand is cracking down on your bare asscheek, creating a loud clap that you swore could be heard for miles. You let out a yelp, but quickly clamp your lips shut.

Your skin burns from the contact, your mouth going bone dry.

"What did I fucking say about that mouth of yours, Y/N? Not a fucking peep."

As he guides himself up and down your slit, collecting your juices on his leaky tip, you choke back the tears in your eyes. You still wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him, which was just a damned thing.

"So wet f'me... God, I'm in heaven."

It was almost as if each string of sentences that came out of his mouth were traveling in through one ear and right out of the other. I suppose this was your karma for being so demanding.

But this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Even though Ashton's means of 'fucking you like you're worthless' still came with bouts of praise, he couldn't help it. He was only human. Testing the waters for the both of you.

Roleplay.

He traces one last drag along your folds, pushing your panties aside with his tip before suddenly slamming himself into you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of him, your body lurching forward towards the railing as his grip on your wrist grows tighter.

"Jesus fuck—." He groans through bated breath before starting his rhythm of pounding into you.

It starts off slowly. The feeling of him filling you up as your walls clench around him must've felt like heaven to the both of you, for he let out a long, dreamy sigh. The hand that was once toying with the hemline of your lacy panties was now planted on the small of your back, using you as leverage as he slammed his cock deeper with each stroke.

Ashton hums, the sounds of slapping skin now engulfing the air around you. "Fuckin' love this pussy... Like it was fuckin' made for me..."

The air in your lungs started to dissipate, practically leaving you begging for mercy at his expense. Your body jolted with each of his deep thrusts, still trying to stay quiet and do exactly as he had demanded of you.

His grip on your wrist had begun to feel raw, surely to leave you with some kind of marking, reinstating the absolute chokehold he has on you.

"Ash..." You whisper again, as he's grunting and whining from behind you.

"Whose fuckin' pussy is this? Whose fuckin' pussy is this?" He asks the question and you whimper, unable to gather any syllable of a sentence on your tongue.

Suddenly, he releases your wrist, picking up his rhythm of fucking into you. Your arm drops to your side like a ragdoll, as you scramble to balance it next to your other on the railing.

The hand of his that once held your wrist captive had traveled down to meet his other, gripping your waist and digging his blistered fingertips into your flesh.

"Fuck... fuckin' shit, Y/N... Takin' my cock so well..."

Using his hands anchored to your waist, he starts to pull you into him, slamming your hips into his pelvic bone and hitting that sweet spot with every. Single. Stroke.

"Fuck, you’re heavenly…. My sweet, sweet girl…"

At this point in time, you could care less about the semantics of this all.

Although the point of this was for Ashton to have his way with you without a single feeling attached, it seemed as though he couldn’t really help it. He was a blubbering mess of compliments and praise, a true gentleman through and through.

But that was something to think about while you lay awake in bed tonight.

For now, you just decided to live in the moment.

Ashton’s rhythm had grown sloppy. He was awfully close to making you finish for a second time, with each buck of his hips— meanwhile it was taking every last bit of your consciousness to keep yourself quiet. The pit of your stomach squeezed with each primal sound that fell from his plush lips.

"M’gonna cum soon, honey… ‘Gonna fill you up, yeah? Would you like that? Want me t’fill you up?"

Unsure of whether or not to verbalize your consent, you nod. Like a bobble-head on a broken spring.

"That’s my girl. That’s— my fuckin’ girl.”

Despite Ashton’s imminent orgasm, you could only think about two words.

My girl. My girl. My girl

They were flashing around your mind like the billboards in the Manhattan streets below. Each thought of those two words produced vibrant colors behind your eyelids, stars now fogging up the blackness as he slams into you a few more times.

"Gonna' cum, honey... G-Gonna' fill you up, m'kay? Fuck..."

With one final pound into you, the pulsing throbbing of his cock had come to a slowdown. You both let out a collective gasp, as the heat ignited between your bodies had meshed into a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Ashton collapses onto your back, the front half of his body slicked with sweat and pressing into you. Your breathing had begun to sync up collectively, only for him to pull out of you and make your entire body jolt.

"Fuck, Ashton."

You were finally able to speak again. You had gotten your words back, as well as your confidence. And the feeling of his presence behind you was all you needed to get you there.

He huffs, finally lifting himself off of you. But you lag behind, taking a moment to collect your breathing as he pulls his sweatpants up.

"Jesus Christ, honey. You're a goddamn dream." He chuckles, stepping back and allowing you the space to turn around.

And that you did. Finally faced with that dream he was on about.

Sweaty, messy curls glued and rearranged to his forehead. Glossy, hooded, fucked-out eyes. The fabric of his Hawaiian shirt soaked with the mixing of your sweat and his.

He looked obscene. He looked ethereal. You wanted to tell him how absolutely picturesque he was in that moment. You wanted to give him every gorgeous compliment you could think of.

But you didn't. You couldn't.

So you said this instead.

"...It'd be a dream if you could grab my jeans."

"Don’t be impolite, Y/N. What's the magic word?" He teases, motioning towards your jeans that had been discarded in a pile on the patio.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk, tough guy? After you just fucked the goddamn life out of me?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't say I fucked the life out of you... If that was the case, you wouldn't be standing upright."

You huff, frustrated, but loving every second of it.

"Just– grab me my damn jeans, Irwin."

He does as he's told, begrudgingly walking the short few feet to grab your jeans as you stand, cross-legged, bare-assed, with your back against the glass.

"Your majesty," he bows, holding your pants out on his arm like a knight with your crown.

"Thank you."

As you put on your jeans, Ashton watches you. With those whiskey, honeypot eyes. Scanning down every inch of you as you put one leg in, then the other.

"If it were up to me, I'd send you back down pants-less."

"Yeah, right." You scoff, reverting back to your old ways of a thumping heart and a pain in your chest, "You know how much trouble I'd be in?"

"Trouble by who? I'm your boss, aren't I?"

You puff, pulling up the zipper of your jeans, "You don't act like it."

"Want me to start then?" He quips.

"...No. Absolutely not."

Ashton tosses you a smile, not long before he's holding out his arms.

"That's what I thought, honey," he motions for you with his hands, "Now c'mere."

Without even thinking, almost as if it were rehearsed, you spin around, falling backwards into his arms. He wraps himself around you, broad biceps squeezing your shoulders like a butterfly in its' cocoon.

The Manhattan night sky was twinkling with lights and stars. You stare out into it, and he does too.

As you stand cradled in his arms with the lingering of pitiful, degrading sex still in the air, you sat in your thoughts for a moment.

What happened tonight couldn’t have been a mistake. You had been speaking it into existence for so long, that it finally became a reality. From the way he so passionately kissed you, to the way he so effortlessly dropped everything to fuck you like you were worthless. Just like you had asked. Just liked you had intended.

But you knew, despite everything that happened tonight, that not a single thing would change. 

Your heart would still flutter out of your ribcage whenever he walked by. You’d still answer his calls late at night, or spare him passing glances in the concert halls.

You’d still come to meet him, no matter when or where. All with that same, God awful weight on your chest.

It all made you feel terrible. Everything about him made you feel terrible.

But you were willing to get used to that feeling.

To be completely honest with yourself…

You kind of liked it. 

It felt like being in love

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#ashton irwin #ashton #ashton 5 seconds of summer #5sos #5 seconds of summer #oh this is filth #what have i done #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin smut #5sos smut

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Take care of my love

PAIRING | Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | You have been struggling lately, and the rest of the Avengers are starting to take notice of this. One night, Thor approaches you and catches you off-guard, making you suddenly feel very self-conscious about your arms and legs. Loki happens to be nearby and notices, making sure you're feeling safe as he comes to your rescue.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mentions of past self-harm, mentions of depression, Thor being an asshole, Loki being a really great friend.

A/N | I’d love to start writing more for Loki, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thanks in advance 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

You haven't been in the best headspace lately, and it is starting to show. Not just in the way you dress or look, but in your behavior too. Usually, you don't mind people seeing your scars nowadays, especially the Avengers, but your depression has been catching up with you again. The missions have been getting harder and it is difficult for you to stay focused when you're even going on one to begin with. Where you used to be the light of every room you walk into, now you're feeling like you bring everyone down with you as your mood turns sour very quickly.

You've rarely gotten out of bed these last few days, and your hygiene has been suffering as a result. When Steve calls you in for another mission, you text him to say you can't go, because you're not feeling well but you don't want to talk about it. He accepts but he's worried regardless, he's seen you go down a spiral like this before. Not much later, he's at your door, knocking softly. ''Y/N? Can I come in?'' he says but you send him away. ''Okay, but please take care of yourself, okay?'' he asks and you don't answer, you don't have the strength.

That evening, you have a sudden burst of energy, and decide to take advantage of it by taking a shower and getting yourself cleaned up a little. When you're done it's already close to midnight, so you just put on a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, so you can get a snack and something to drink before diving back into your bed. You look at yourself in the mirror and your eyes go over the scars on your arms, legs, and stomach, some from battle, but most from the years of self-harm. Some faded into almost nothing, some still pink from the fact that they're relatively fresh. You haven't done it in almost three months, but the scars don't fade that quickly, and you're well aware.

You finally manage to rip yourself away from the mirror and you walk towards the kitchen, not expecting anyone. When you arrive in the kitchen, however, you're met with a surprise in the form of a certain God of Thunder, as Thor is sitting in the kitchen eating a snack. ''Hey Y/N-'', he says before the rest of the words die in his mouth, and his eyes are grazing over your scars. You want to curl into a ball and cry right about now, because you're extremely uncomfortable at this moment, but you're trying to stay strong. ''What the… I thought you stopped harming yourself,'' Thor says as he walks up to you with big steps, and grabs your arms into his big hands.

''Thor, please let me go,'' you whimper, tears starting to trickle down your face. ''Not before you tell me why-'' he says bluntly, but suddenly you hear a familiar voice behind you. ''Brother, I believe the lady said she wants you to let go,'' Loki says and Thor immediately does, but not before looking at them for a few more seconds. ''I thought you didn't-'' he starts, but Loki doesn't let him finish. ''Stop, she's already in enough distress as is right now. Just go and don't be such a dick next time,'' he says shortly to Thor and he pulls his eyes away from you. ''I'm sorry,'' is all he says before walking out of the kitchen, and you sink into your knees, sobbing uncontrollably at this point.

''Is it okay if I touch you? I just want to hold you in my arms until you calm down, that's all,'' Loki says as he crouches in front of you, and you nod with your face in your hands. He wraps his arms around you softly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, calming you down. The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, and multiple Avengers came to check up on you, but Loki whisked them away without saying a word. He didn't have to, because they all knew he had it under control, he is taking care of you right now.

When your sobs have turned down to soft sniffles, you take your hands away from your face and you look at Loki, who gives you nothing but a look of pure adoration. ''Hi beautiful girl, I'm glad to have you back,'' he says as he softly runs his fingers through your hair. ''Do you want me to bring you to your bedroom?'' he asks and you nod, and he picks you up so your wrap your arms and legs around his shoulders and waist. ''Ah, you're my little koala bear now!'' he softly jokes and you chuckle a little because he's not wrong.

All you can think of is how grateful you are right now. In all honesty, the two of you haven't spoken that many times, but you've always been nice to each other. You never expected him to do this, however, but you'll soak up every second of it while it lasts. He softly strokes your back in circles as he walks you to your bedroom, and he can feel you physically relax in his hold. ''It's okay, beautiful, you're going to be okay,'' he says in your hair and smiles softly. He's glad he can help you like this, and he's honestly happy that he walked by when he did, because he doesn't want to think about what happened if he hadn't.

When the two of you arrived in your bedroom, he softly puts you down on the bed, and as he wants to walk away, you finally say something. ''Thank you, Loki. For saving me,'' you say, and all he says in response is ''Please, don't mention it. I'm just taking care of my love,'' he says before bending over and placing a kiss on your forehead. ''Stay, please,'' you say and he does. He strips down until he's just wearing pants before climbing in the bed with you, as you curl up into his arms, your head against his chest. ''We're going to talk about this later, right now, you need your sleep,'' he says and you agree, slowly falling into a deep sleep in his arms. You've never felt safer in your entire life than you do right now.

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson angst #loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki angst

[spamgyu]

LOVE OF MY LIFE // Mingyu x Reader (ONESHOT)

description: what if soonyoung never got the girl? what if mingyu ended up fixing things before it was too late? - companion to right where you left me and the rest of the always!au

pairing: Mingyu x Reader

genre: angst and very very light fluff

They said if you love something, let it go.... and if it comes back, it's meant for you.

She knew their relationship had run it's course, the two having more bad days than good ones.

But why was letting go so hard?

It had been five months since she was in his room, begging for him to not end things – despite the constant heartache she was enduring while they were together.

Five months but the wounds still remained so fresh. Every single day feeling worse than yesterday.

Unlike him.

It was as if the four years they had spent together was nothing for him, bouncing back into the single life within weeks of their separation as if he didn't once tell her that he loved her to the moon and back. As if they didn't plan their future together, promising that he would be by her side as their hairs turned gray.

This was the third time he had brought a girl around. Each time, being someone different.

She didn't know which hurt more. The fact that none of them came close to resembling her, or the fact that he seemed to be happily dating around.

Was she never his type? Was that why it never worked out?

All while she couldn't get herself to even delete the images of him on her phone, he had moved on and wiped all evidences of them off of his social media.

Y/n watched from the other side of the room as he introduced his new fling to their friends, playing with the straw of her drink.

Jeonghan followed her gaze, the smile on his lips falling once he realized where she was looking. "He's so fucking stupid." He grumbled, pulling y/n's arm to force her to turn her back from Mingyu who had yet to realize that his ex was in the corner of the room – heart clearly breaking.

As if it could break more than it already has.

It was Jeonghan's birthday and he had invited the gang to the small celebration in his new apartment.

Meaning y/n's attendance was mandatory; being childhood friends and all.

She should have known he was going to bring someone around.

Why wouldn't he?

They were both single.

It wasn't like he wasn't allowed to date.

"Hey, we're out of White Claw. I'm gonna head out and grab some, you wanna come?" Soonyoung approached the two, motioning for y/n to follow him.

She knew what he was doing.

He had been one of the boys who Mingyu and the mystery girl had been speaking with, making eye contact with her from across the room.

Y/n knew she could always count on him to rescue her when her stupid ex was up to god knows what.

Letting out a sigh, she nodded, setting her drink down on a nearby table.

Y/n allowed Soonyoung to assist her with putting on her jacket, whilst she drowned in the thoughts of Mingyu. Wondering how he was doing, who the girl could be, how long would it be until he found a new girl to bring around, and how come it was so easy for him to move on and yet... she was still there... sitting at the table set for two.

Waiting for him.

The cold October air nipped at her nose as the two made the quick journey to the corner store at the bottom of Jeonghan's apartment building.

"He's not dating her." Soonyoung broke the silence.

"Didn't ask."

"I know."

She never did have to ask.

He had always been able to read her mind, answering all the questions that she was afraid to vocalize.

"He wasn't dating the other girl either."

Y/n stopped in her tracks. "What are you doing, Hosh?"

Halting when he realized she no longer was matching his pace, Soonyoung turned around to look at the girl who stood under the bright lights of the laundromat. "Well he wasn't going to clear the air." He shrugged.

"I don't care what he does."

"Yeah you do."

Yes she does.

She still checked his social medias, checking to see what he was up to. The man who she used to spend nearly every waking moment with was now just someone who she knew behind the screen.

Y/n cared.

So much.

"Why do you care if I know he's not dating those girls?"

"Because I know you'll spend the rest of the night over thinking. You'll let that shit ruin your day."

God, why couldn't it just have been Soonyoung? Why did she have to fall for the wrong friend?

Soonyoung was everything and more.

He knew her better than anyone else, tending to her needs before she even knew it was something that she was missing.

He did it so effortlessly.

And yet, y/n was pining for a man who she no longer knew.

A complete stranger.

"Aren't you tired of always looking out for me?"

Soonyoung shook his head, walking over to her and slinging his arm around her shoulders. "You're my best friend. I'll always have your back."

Best friend.

In the past two years, it was no secret that the two have gotten closer. Despite Soonyoung's confession of feelings to her, after the fight that would have ultimately later be the catalyst of her and Mingyu's break up, the friendship between the two bloomed.

He was well aware he wouldn't measure up to Mingyu, pushing his feelings aside to provide comfort for the girl.

Besides, it was just a silly little crush.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that no matter how far Mingyu distanced himself from her, his gravitational pull didn't allow her to be set free. Somehow, she was still stuck orbiting around him.

It was a pity.

Mingyu was giving the poor girl's heart a hard enough time, Soonyoung knew that it would be no use if he did it as well.

The two were back in the apartment in no time, despite taking a detour of walking around the block before heading back up – as requested by y/n.

"We're back! Hope you guys didn't miss me too much." Soonyoung sang as he entered the door, earning laughters and hollers from the group.

All except Mingyu; who sat on the couch, eyes following every move of hers.

Everyone had gone from mingling in small groups to sitting around the living room, playing Uno Extreme.

Or what Seungcheol called "Uno with Jeonghan's rules".

"What took you guys so long? What you do? Make-out?" Chan snickered, scooting closer to Minghao to make room for the two on the floor.

It was a running joke of the group that the two were secretly dating; especially now that everyone had been well aware of Soonyoung's vocalization of feelings towards y/n.

Word travels quickly in a small collection of people.

"Chan!" Soonyoung and y/n scolded.

"Kidding!" Chan laughed. "Okay, Hao, draw 12."

"That's not a thing!"

"Yes it is. Jeonghan sa–"

"Jeonghan is full of shit." Minghao crossed his arms over his chest. Without Soonyoung to join in the fun, Minghao had been the target of everyone – silently plotting to make sure that he would end up with the whole deck by the end of the game.

"Just draw 12 dude!"

"Can we just please restart? Y/n and Hosh are back and I don't like this round."

"Fine." Jeonghan held his hand out for the everyone to hand him their cards, obnoxiously shuffling the pile.

"Count me out, I'm not in the mood to be yelled at by Kwan and Hosh." Y/n laughed as the cards were being dealt – recalling to their last game which got a little too heated, all because Jeonghan had coached her to hide half of her pile.

This was of course quickly discovered by Seungkwan and proceeded to make a scene.

In his defense, a tall glass of all the left over liquor was on the line for the loser to chug and he had about twenty cards in his hand.

"Can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen." Soonyoung winked, earning a shove from the girl.

"I'm grabbing drinks, put your orders in." She stood from where she sat; earning a chorus of jumbled replies from everyone. "Relax, I was being nice. I only have two hands."

"I'll help." Mingyu spoke up above the mess of voices, stepping over Jeonghan and Seungcheol's legs to make his way over to the kitchen.

The silence was almost deafening as the two collected the various cans of drinks from the fridge, the only sounds to be heard were the indistinct voices of the group from the room nearby.

"How are you?" Mingyu asked, watching the girl attempt to balance four tall cans in her arms.

"Good." She replied.

More silence.

"I heard you got the job at Solar." He continued.

"Yeah. First day was last month."

"Come on, Star. I'm trying here."

Y/n began walking away, content with the drinks she was able carry herself, but quickly stopping in her tracks once the word left his lips.

Star.

The pet name he had given her when they began dating.

It began as a joke, claiming that she always seemed to have stars in her eyes whenever she rambled on and on about any topic she was passionate about. It soon gained more meaning as their relationship progressed.

"You're my star. The one thing that shines during the darkest times of my life." He would say.

Now, she can't even bare to look or hear that word. Let alone hearing him say it.

"Don't." She turned to him, her face pale upon the mention of the word. "Don't do that."

"Sorry, I– it was a slip up." He took a step towards her, only for her to take a step back. "Don't be like this."

"We're not friends, Mingyu. We're in the same friend group, but we're not friends. You don't get to call me Star. You don't get to just act like nothing happened." She kept her voice low, keeping her composure.

He had no right to act normal. Especially if he was the reason why she was so broken.

"So what? Are we just never going to speak to each other?"

"God, Mingyu. It's only been five months!" She exasperated. "You may be okay, but I'm not. So yes, maybe I don't want to talk to you."

"Who said I was okay?"

"I–"

"Oops, sorry I thought you guys were struggling– I can come back."

The two turned their heads to the source of the voice.

Soonyoung.

"Of fucking course. Here to save the damn day." Mingyu mumbled.

Obviously not quiet enough as y/n's ears had been able to pick up what he had just said. "What's that supposed to even mean?"

"Super Soonyoung, always there to save the day. Whoopdeedoo."

Before she could make any further actions, she felt Soonyoung's hand on her shoulder; silently telling her to back down.

"You see." Mingyu nodded over to his friend's hand. "You said I'm okay. You're wrong. I'm not okay. Not when I see you guys doing whatever the fuck you guys do right in front of my face. You don't think it hurts? Seeing my ex and my best friend?"

"Mingyu..." Soonyoung began.

"No, you don't get to put your two cents in." He shook his head.

And just like that, it was as if she was transported back in time.

To the last few months of their relationship where their fights seemed to always circle back to one single topic.

Soonyoung.

No matter how many times she reassured him that Soonyoung was nothing but a friend and it was him that she loved, Mingyu couldn't seem to get his brain to comprehend that the two were able to be friends with no feelings involved.

Not when he knew his friend had a little crush on his girlfriend.

Y/n remained faithful him to the very end, keeping her word that it was him.

It will always be him.

But he had his mind set and there was no changing it.

"I'm leaving." Y/n deadpanned, passing the eight cans to Soonyoung and heading straight to the door – ignoring the questioning looks from the others.

"Fuck." Mingyu breathed upon hearing the door slam close.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that right?" Soonyoung quipped.

"Yeah, thanks I got that." He replied sarcastically.

"All she's ever talked about is you. Every single day since the break up she had done nothing but think about you." Soonyoung began, recalling to all the times he sat in silence; listening to the poor girl talk about her ex who seemed to careless about what she was up to or how she felt. "She would rather have bad days with you than have good days without you. I'll never measure up to you. She's got you on a fucking pedestal– which honestly, I don't think you deserve but she does! I had a crush on her, okay so what, but you're the love of her fucking life. I could bring the world– hell, I can bring the whole universe to her and it will never be anything compared to what you do. Can't you see that?"

Mingyu chewed at his lip, processing all that his friend was saying.

Men weren't like women. They didn't talk problems through, they simply brush their problems away and jump back into reality as if the hanging tension above their heads didn't exist.

Which is exactly what the two had done; ignoring the elephant in the room to further avoid opening a can of worms.

This had been the first time Soonyoung and Mingyu have attempted to address the topic of Y/n. It was a touchy subject.

Especially for Mingyu.

"You're telling me that the girl you've been dying to be with since freshman year is finally single and you didn't even think once to pursue it?" Mingyu scoffed.

"How could I when all she can ever talk about is you?" Soonyoung forced out a laugh. "You know, her camera roll still has all your pictures together. All the shit you gave to her while you guys were together are sitting in a box in her closet. Nothing Jeonghan and I say can get her to move on. I know you still love her. I see it every time I go near her."

"I–"

"Stop pretending you're okay."

Mingyu licked his lips. "Is she– do you think I can fix this?"

"You can probably murder me in front of her and she wouldn't bat an eye."

"Good, because I've considered doing that many times."

"Just go after her." He rolled his eyes.

She should have thought her walk out through.

Fall had rolled into the city much earlier than expected and her jacket provided her little to no defense against the cold temperature; shivering as she waited for her uber.

Which was minutes away.

She should have just hid away in Jeonghan's room.

"Y/n!" A voice called out.

It was him.

"Leave me alone Mingyu."

"No. I– please listen to me." He jogged over to where she stood, at the end of the curb.

There was no escape. Stupid uber delay.

She flashed him her phone, showing the ETA of her ride. "You've got twelve minutes."

Running his fingers through his now outgrown hair, a new look she had yet to get used to, Mingyu took in a deep breath. "I'm not okay. I should have gone after you that night when I said I wanted to end things. I should have taken it back. These past five months have been hell and I have been pretending I was okay because I thought– God, I thought you and Hoshi were together. It didn't help that everyone would joke around about it and– and I– I shouldn't have let my insecurities get in the way. I shouldn't have brought any of those girls around, making you believe I was with them. I've been trying to set Hao up with my coworkers since his breakup with Kaia and– I'm–"

"You're rambling."

"I fucked up, and it seems like I keep fucking up but– I'm sorry. I want you back. I need you back"

As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she couldn't.

Just like all the times he had left her hanging, y/n's heart had found a way to soften for the one and only man that had captured it.

She was angry at the situation – frustrated at the fact that no matter how many times she had reassured him that she and Soonyoung would never be a thing, he still refused to believe her.

But she was more frustrated at herself, for absentmindedly feeding into his insecurities by continuing to hang around the one person that had caused the issues in the last months of their relationship.

"Star, please say something."

"I'm sorry too."

He shook his head, hesitantly taking a step towards her; his eyes staying locked on hers. Almost as if he was asking for permission. "It's all me. All the problems, the fights, the shortcomings. All me."

"I'd rather have ten million bad days with you–"

"Than good days without." He completed her sentence. "I know I– I spoke to Hoshi. Well– more like he gave me an earful."

Y/n couldn't help but crack a smile. She had expressed to Soonyoung many times how she would rather have gone through war and back with the boy she loved than live a peaceful life without him.

Who would have thought he was listening to all her endless rambles?

"I thought I was doing what's best for you back then." Mingyu reached up to place a warm hand on her cheek, smiling once he felt her lean into his touch. "I– I didn't think to ask you what you felt."

She missed him.

His touch.

His gentle voice.

His love.

The sudden ring of her phone, signaling that her ride was soon approaching pulled them out of their moment; both looking down at the device. "One minute."

"If I ask for you back, do I have a standing chance?"

"Why do you ask stupid questions?"

tag list: @leah-rose03 @yoonzinuhh @musingsofananxiouspotato @woofie-nctzen-fanarts

«« [an]

alright. final installation to my always!au

this is for my team mingyu girlies out there.

#mingyu angst #mingyu x oc #mingyu #mingyu fic #seventeen fic #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen #idol x reader #hoshi #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #spamgyu

[night-dazai]

The Demon Never Died - 3

Dazai  X Reader 

Synopsis: You were rescued and now both you and Dazai are scared thinking that the other person hates the other only to find the truth and for Dazai to realise another fact about his pretty sweet soft gf. When she said she had her won share of madness and trauma she was not kidding . 

Word count : 2008

It has been how long you had no idea but all you knew was that your hands hurt very badly and you are sure they would leave a mark “Finally “ you said removing the rope from your feet. The fear in you has not left but since no one has come into that room you were brave enough to remove the rope and look around. “Thank god I was not cuffed to bed or something .” you mumbled, the room was tiny the moment anyone opened the door they could see one big white bed one nightstand with a heart-shaped lamp on it and a door to the right “bathroom, “ you said closing it . The tiny screen near the door was now black and no voices were also heard so with nothing to listen you opened the nightstand near the bed the only other furniture in the room “ wh-” you turned to the sound of the door throwing open. “ This is kinda nice why not sell her?” one said coming in while the other man closed the door . The black-haired man walked towards you as you fell back on the bed and chuckled seeing the fear in your eyes “ we did not even tell him much he surrendered, why does he love you so much ?” he asked grabbing your chin in a harsh pull . His nasty breath was close to your nose “wha..” you mumbled thinking about what he could mean . “ what else Dazai said he will surrender and we let you go “ the other red hair said opening the door “ we said we will send her back intact and we should “ .The man holding your chin opened your mouth with force and popped a pill in as he dragged you out “ Dazai …why .why would he” you mumbled feeling tired and soon slumped as they dragged you . 

Dazai stood in the warehouse for the past 20 minutes tapping his feet impaitinetly “ what is taking them so long “ he mumbled as his mind raced a million of things they could do to you . The sweet , innocent flower you were and he knew you had never faced anything like this ever . Naomi placed a hand on his shoulder “calm down we are just early “ . As she finished talking a car pulled up at the opening, Dazai and Naomi both turned to see 6 men come out of 2 cars and one held you mouth tied hands cuffed and red . Dazai’s blood boiled “ come here “ one of the man with black hair said looking like the leader he stood in the middle as the red hair behind him was removing the cloth from your mouth “DAZAI GET OUT !” you shouting making everyone look at you suprised. Dazai’s eyes widened “ get out and dont you dare surrender “ you shouted struggling from the man grasp. Before Dazai could get a word out SLAP! the leader-looking guy spoke “ shut up before it goes south “ he grabbed your hair and made you kneel putting a knife to your neck “ come here Dazai before this thing is dead “. You were still crying, you could not see much due to the tears and your head felt dizzy . You were sure your lips were bleeding. “No” was all you hear Dazai say , you looked up with hazy eyes and now saw many people dressed in black.

The men around you struggled to understand the situation. Taking their guns out the were ready , the guy tugged your hair harder making it hurt a lot more “ She is de-” A bullet hit his leg and hand making him fall to the said limp and scream. All you do was be still and shake in fear as bullets rained making all the men near you fall dead . Your taers was running like a river. Feeling a hand on your eyes you flinched “ y/n ..its me “ you opened your eyes to see you lover kneeling in front of you . You flung yourself on him “ whyy..whyyy” you shouted and kept crying as Dazai held you tightly running small circles on your back “ i am sorry y/n “ was the last thing you heard before fainting. 

Jun'ichirō snapped his fingers and all the illusions of the military men was gone, Kunikida showed up with a sniper gun with Kenji next to him “The majority are injured very much “ he said giving his sunshine smile but the moment he saw you his face went blank . “can i take-” Dazai stopped him “ thanks but i would like to have alone time with them while the government comes here“ he said handing you gently to his partner whom he trusts with all his heart. Dazai pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear “Make sure she is alright i will be joining you people soon after Ango comes here” his voice was falt with no emotion other than his trembling hand on your face he watched as Kenji, Jun'ichirō and Kunikida walked out . “Now … i told you i would surrender without any problem and was honestly thinking about letting you guys to get your revenge on me “ he cracked his knuckles and neck.

Anger was visible in his face and his voice was strong and scary the 6 men trembled “ i left this all back years go i did but i nerve said i will not do it “ his head titled to the side looking like a psycho Dazai smiled at his prey he removed his brown trench coat , walking towards the corner in the warehouse he came back wearing a thick black coat “ Please allow me to show you my old tricks “ he said bowing dramatically smiling sending chills down the men on the floor already bleeding. 

Ango stood outside the warehouse with his men for the past 40 mins mostly cause after 5 mins of his arrival he could hear horrified screams form the other side and knew “lets wait here “ he told his men and waited . Dazai opened the door after a few more mins “ Ya!! Ango , you are here early “ Dazai said back to his cheery voice and goofy aura but this appearance did not match them. A black coat replaced the brown coat he stood blood splashed all over him , pure white bandages soaked in blood “ yeah now you just gave me more work of treating them “ he said adjusting his specs.

Giggling Dazai patted Ango’s shoulder “ well you are good at it right , this is off record “ his voice suddenly went cold saying the last part . Before he got a reply Dazai’s phone rang “ y/n woke up and said she wanted to go back to your shared house she is treated but refused to stay the agency “ Dazai hummed in response hanging up walked back home , a place he thought he could never have . 

It has been 2 hours since you woke up and cried for sold 30 mins on the agency couch you said you wanted to go home. Kunikida against it let you go with Athushi when Ranpo told it would be better for you that way. The moment you came back in you dropped to the floor crying hard your mind revolving all horrible images, “why Dazai was not next to you when you woke up , did he think they did something to you ? was his disgusted or was he hurt ? his hands were tied ….yet crying you walked into the room and practically pulled a bunch of his shirts and made a pile of out it to sit and cry till your lover came in . Soon it turned into little sobs while you thought about other things " what happened to those men ? is it alright for me to imagine them being hurt ? " and that's when your brain hit it . Dazai might do it but "his hands were tied and they might be high profile criminals what if samu gets hurt ?" and the thought just made you sob more  

Dazai stood outside the apt door wondering in what stay would he find you , what can he say , will you wan to break up , will you hate him. His still opened the door uttering your name softly but found that all random lights were on but you were not in the hall or kitchen he walked worried and scared to the bedroom you both share. The sight in front of him made his heart and whole body clench in pain and guilt seeing your plight wearing one of his shirts and lying on the rest crying your heart out. “Y/n ?” his soft voice made you look at him in fear, more than anything else he hurt at the way you reacted  “Any can just kill or torture me “ he thought and walked towards you seeing how you got up and opened your arms like a 5 years old asking for a hug but with bandaged wrists . “Sorry dear ..please…dont cryyy” he said hugging you while soothing your hair “pleasee you are making me cry too” he mumbled with wet eyes “Dazai…dont cry” you still mumbled hiding your face in his chest and there you both sat crying on each other for a while before both of you calm down and soon your rational minds started functioning.

“Here “ he said handing you a cup of white tea “Thank you “ you mumbled and pulled closer ot him as he sat down next to you . “Why would you shout something like that y/n ?” Dazai got right to point starting at you with dark eyes filled with nothing but worry “Cause its true “ you said pouting and sipping your tea “ dont ever i mean ever sacrifice yourself for me you never know i might be worth it “ you said sipping your tea and turned the tv for distcartion. “Why..” his voice broken making you turn to see his eyes getting wet again “ Osamu..” you mumbled and held his hand “Just like how you hate to see me hurt i also do not want to see you hurt i will say this again and again but please i want to be with you if you allow me . If you still like me..” your last sentence facing make the brunette look at you with the question “ why would i not like you ?” you fumbled with your hands “ well..i was kidnapped ..for a while you might know what they did ..” you said softly but panicked feeling his hand go hard “no..i mean they did not do anything to me please trust me!” you also said most begging him .

Dazai could not take anymore his heart and body felt tired “ why ..why in the world would i doubt you love, i know and even if they did something they would be dead and “ he held both your hands tightly getting down on his knees “ i am sorry sorry that you had to go through something like that “ sincerity filled his voice and eyes looking at you his hands trembled yet he held yours tightly. Smiling you bumped your foreheads “ Samu you recall what i told you when you asked why i chose you ?” your voice now normal and cheery, he nodded without blinking you “ you took the coat off ok but your shirt ? , you jaw “ you said tracing the staring and sharp bone “ see blood “ you said showing you finers. Embrassed he looked away but you forced his chin back to you “ i know they are off the hook “ your eyes dug deep into his smiling “ did they beg ?” you asked. Confused for a min Dazai looked at you and blinked understanding the meaning he giggled kissing your hands “ yes dear, they begged a lot to die “You kissed his forehead “ good , see this is why dont be sorry and get up i feel cold “ you said pulling him up .

You snuggled into his arms and that's when he realised you were not some innocent little flower who knew nothing about the world, he never took it seriously when Ranpo said the way you watched gore was different now he knew, you might be naive and foolish and sweet and kind but under them hid something and he also realised that you could see right into his soul from the first time he saw you he realised “ you saw that the demon never died right ?” he asked. You poped your head from his chest and smiled back the sweetest smile “ yes “ 

Thank you for reading this i was supposed to write a smut scene but will do it separately. 

If you have any specific requests do send them to me.

If there are any mistakes please do mention them for me to correct them in the future.

#dazai smut #bsd dazai #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs fanart #dazai osamu #bsd dazai osamu #dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x chuuya #dazai x you #daza smut #dazai osamu smut #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd fanart #bungou gay dogs #bsd dazai smut #bsd dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stary dogs smut #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs smit

[chouxsardine]

Permission to Fall -- Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: "Don't be afraid of falling, because he will catch you everytime" --Where things became too much at your company's Christmas party and Jake comes to the rescue as the most thoughtful boyfriend that he is.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3211

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, feet (nothing gross or super detailed), a drop of superstition (let me know if I've missed any)

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is originally an idea inspired by @jakesguitarsolo and written for her. I hope you feel better now, dear. One idea spins into me pulling an all nighter...And here it is. This also goes to whoever feels stressed around this time of the year. Yes, things are tough, but you are stronger. I am so proud of you. If you want to talk, feel free to send me an ask or message. This is my first gvf fic and my first time writing anything for threes years. I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it too.

🎧: I am listening to I Need You Most of All by Stephen Sanchez while writing this (you can tell the title is taken from the lyrics)

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

Suddenly everything is too much.

But you know damn well that it doesn’t just happen “suddenly”. In fact, shit has been building up for days, or even weeks. You don’t know if it’s the end-of-year frenzy getting into everyone’s head, Mercury is in retrograde, or the depleted Vitamin D levels due to shortened daylight, you’ve had it particularly rough recently, from small inconveniences like your favourite snack being out of stock at the local grocery store for three consecutive weeks to mishaps like you taking the blame for your impotent coworker. You are exhausted, to say the least; you couldn’t wait for the holidays. Not entirely for its cheer, but for the few precious days off. You just need a break from everything.

Now you are stuck in your company’s holiday party. The annual event that you dreaded the most. It involves too many fake smiles, false-hearted small talk, and tooth-rotting-sweet cupcakes that clearly have too much food colouring. All the mental preparing goes south as you stand in the room, the stabbing pain from your high-heels growing more and more unbearable by the second. Too many people.

“Just another thirty minutes, you can do it. Just another thirty minutes”. You hopelessly glance at the clock on the wall, flashbacking to your childhood self squirming in the seats waiting for math class to end.

But of course, something has to make matters worse. The real straw that breaks the camel’s back is your clumsy coworker accidentally bumping into you and spilling her drink on your shoes.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, y/n!” She hastily apologizes in a high-pitched squeal. A few people turn their heads toward your direction.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Panic. Trouble. You try to wave her off. The shoes aren’t even your top concerns right now; you just want her to stop talking and stop attracting more unwanted attention.

“Really? Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just—”

“Please.” You take the handful of tissues from her, look her in the eyes, almost pleading, “It’s fine. Please excuse me, I’ll just go to the washroom real quick.”

Once the washroom door is closed behind you, you feel like collapsing right there on the floor. You wobble your way to the sink, arms propped up on the cold marble surface. You don’t dare to look at yourself in the mirror. Your ears are buzzing and the twisted feeling in your lungs tightens. As if a cold hand is wringing a wet towel inside your stomach, as if someone is shoving your head into cold water, you can't breath properly. You try to draw a breath, but end up sounding like a stranded whale. Before it develops into a full-blown panic attack that you can’t handle, you managed to muster the last bit of your sanity and dial that number with trembling fingers.

Jake picks up on the second ring.

“Hi, love. What’s up? ”

Upon hearing his voice, your tears break free. You are sobbing so hard that you have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the volume down. God forbid any busybody out there overhearing sobbing coming out of the washroom. “Ja—Jake—-”You struggled to form a coherent syllable.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Are you hurt?” His voice immediately grows sterner, stripped of of the previous languidness.

To talk under this state feels like squeezing words out of your veins. “Ca—can—you..come p—pick me up? Company—p-party.” You stutter through gritted teeth.

There is some shuffled noise over the phone, a loud bang sounding like he had bumped into something, a silent “fuck” under his breath, then his voice reaches your ears again: “Coming right now, baby, take a deep breath for me.”

You hear the faint beeping of car keys. More shuffled noise. More beeping. That means he has started the car, right? That means he will be here soon, right? You mind is racing and spinning and your lungs are still acting up, only allow silvers of oxygen into your body. You feel like you are watching the world through a distorted filter. A scarier thought jumps into your brain: you whiny puny thing, continue crying and your panic will affect Jake. The roads are slippery now, and it will be all your fault if he ends up in a car accident.

As if being slapped in the face, you manage to suck in a deep breath like a scuba diver resurfacing to the water: “Drive safe please, please Jake, please—I will wait for you.”

Jake makes a sound that is somewhat between a relieved laugh and a resigned sigh. He knows instantly what’s going on in your overthinking brain; you are worried about him. The thoughtfulness must be engraved in y/n’s brain, he thought, always, always putting others in front of herself, even when she’s having a panic attack. And Jake knows you are correct. It is only upon hearing your words that he realizes how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He recomposes himself, relaxing his shoulder, “Don’t you worry about me, love. I will stay on the phone if that makes you feel better, yeah? Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.”

“Knock on wood!” You hiss between sobbing, frantically searching for any wooden material around you. Damn it, why is everything so shiny and glassy?

Jake is amazed that he even lets out a short laugh under the circumstances. Yes, his heart aches hearing his girl being a mess over the phone, and he wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side. But meanwhile, he can't help but find you cute like this. He knocks three times on the mini wooden tissue box that he keeps in the middle console.

“Yes, knock on wood. You hear that, doll?”

“Hmm.” You would honestly believe anything now. Hearing Jake’s voice and imagining him coming to you is like brown noise for babies. Your lungs finally decide to have mercy on you, and you can now somehow draw in shallow breaths albeit the pain in your chest.

Jake is relieved as he sees the green lights shining at the last intersection before turning left onto the side road where your company is located. “I’m here. Can you come down by yourself, love? Or do you want me to get you?”

“I can come down.” You say. The thought of him finding you in a messy pile on the bathroom floor makes you wince, even though he’d probably seen worse.

“Okay baby, see you in a second.”

You don’t remember how you collected your coat and pushed your way through the crowded room without many people noticing. The next moment, your sensations are restored, and you find yourself already in Jake’s arms. He's waiting for you in the area between the automatic glass door and the revolving door outside, a place that is warm with air conditioning but won’t attract nosy people. He wraps you in a hug with his wool jacket. His comforting scent fills your nostrils, a powerful pacifier for your naughty lungs. For the first time this evening, you can finally breathe properly like a normal human being. The rush of fresh air makes you release a loud sob like a newborn baby. The relief of seeing him safely standing in front of you and the release of finally being free from the stressful and stuffy environment ushers more tears to stream down your face.

“Shhhh…..you’re okay now, y/n, safe now. I’m here.” His hand wraps protectively around the back of your head as he plants kisses into your hair. “Poor girl, let’s get to the car and go home.”

Home. Home sounds heavenly to your right now. You couldn’t think of a better combination of these four letters in the whole of human history.

On the way back, you curl into a ball on the passenger seat like a battered puppy. Jake holds your hand whenever he gets the chance, his strong calloused fingers gently massaging yours, tracing the patterns on your palm, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, providing warmth. No longer crying, your shoulders occasionally shudder with involuntary sobs that escape you. But other than that, you are falling into a trance. Your gaze concentrated on Jake’s perfect side profile through hooded eyes, watching in awe as the passing streetlights formed patterns of shadow on his graceful nose and cheeks; your mind numb without a single thought.

It is only when Jake wakes you up that you realize you have fallen asleep. The car is already parked in the garage, the familiar and comforting damp smell seeping in.

“We are home now, sleepyhead.” Jake smiles at you, tapping on your wrist to signal you to wait as he gets out of the car and opens your side of the door. Just as you were about to step off, Jake reaches to cradle you by the shoulders and knees, carrying you bridle-style into the house. You hide your face shyly in the crook of his neck, secretly grateful because your feet are indeed sore in those heels.

Jake puts you down by the shoe rack, motioning you to put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he squats down in front you, holding your ankles and taking off your shoes. If he did see the stains, he didn’t ask any questions, only cooed when he saw the blisters on your heels.

“Let’s go upstairs and get your makeup off, then we’ll cuddle and go to bed, yeah?” Jake stands up, hanging up your coat before cupping your cheeks and placing a kiss on your forehead.

You never hated makeup more than now, regretting to put it on in the first place, now that it has become the annoying barrier lying in your way to bedtime. But Jake says “let’s,” that means he’s going to do it together with you, right?

“Jake?” You whine bashfully.

“Yes, love?”

You tilt up your chin and close your eyes, “One more kissy, please?”

Jake swears he feels a part of his heart melt right there. Who is he to deny you?

“Of course, as many as my princess would like.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Jake sits you on the closed toilet seat. He opens the drawer, grabs your makeup remover and some cotton pads. He applies some liquid onto the wipes and lifts up your chin.

“Close your eyes for me, love.” The cool liquid on your eyelids makes your eyebrows twitch, causing Jake to chuckle, “I know, I know. Just a little longer.”

You sit quietly, mesmerized and hypnotized under his touch. His movements are almost rhythmic. Is this how cats feel when their owners scratches behind their ears? You fear that if you make a sound, you will actually let out a purr.

Jake continues until most of your makeup is gone. “Hold out your hands,” you hear him say and complied. Two dollops of foamy liquid landed in the centre of your palm, and you opened your eyes to recognize they are your face wash. Jake tugs on your wrist, leading you to stand in front of the sink.

“Can you wash your pretty face now, darling? Wash up, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

You nodded, feeling lighter and more relaxed now without your makeup and even more content when you turn on the tap and find out that Jake has already tuned it to a lukewarm temperature for you.

When Jake returned, he was calling you from the bedroom. You have already brushed your teeth and let down your hair.

You walked into the bedroom and are welcomed by the scent of bergamot and sandalwood from your favourite candle glowing on the night stand. Jake was pulling an old T-shirt out from the closet. It was the vintage Joan Jett and The Blackhearts shirt, the patterns half faded, and materials worn-out soft. You saw him laying out one of his boxers for you too. He knows you always prefer them to your own underwear as pyjamas.

“Come sit, angel.” He patted the bench at the foot of the bed, him sitting across from it on a small stool.

It is only when you walked close that you saw the wooden foot spa basin, with clouds of steam rising from it. As you sat down, he gently took your ankle and balanced your feet on the edge of the basin, so that the hot water is steaming your sole.

“It’s still a bit hot.” He looks up to you. “I put Epsom salt and eucalyptus oil in it.”

“Where did you get this?” You feel like the heat from the bottom of the feet is slowly being absorbed into your veins and rising up to your cheeks. You wiggle your toes nervously.

Jake lets out a giggle, “Well, mum suggested once to Josh about the foot spa thing, said it helps with stress and tense muscles. You know, with him running barefoot on stage and all.” He reaches down to sprinkle some water onto your feet, letting you adjust to the temperature. “But Josh got the fancy electric ones. I thought this is better. More authentic, don’t you think?”

“Uh-hmm.”

“Your nails are all chipped,” Jake looks down, “maybe tomorrow we can repaint them? I saw you bought a new colour the other day.”

Tender. So tender. From his tone to his caramel brown eyes. The light from the lamp illuminates the left side of his face, giving it a solemn, smooth glow like a wax statue. Your heart swells; love makes it rise like Soufflé in the oven. The soft surface rises up until it touches your ribcage, threatening to spill those tears again.

“Thank you, Jake.” You dare not raise your voice, fearing that it will break, “I just got a bit overwhelmed at the party, is all.”

Jake eases your feet slowly into the water now that it’s the perfect temperature. The slight sling of your blisters is soon overwhelmed by the all-encompassing warmth that rises all the way to your ankle.

After a few heart beats, he speaks again. “You’ll always have me, y/n. You are allowed to fall, to break. I will be here to catch you, to piece you together. Whatever you need.”

Finally you were snuggled together in bed. You, a human koala, cling to Jake with your face pressed against his chest. His arm snakes around your shoulder, fingers mindlessly tracing your collarbone, strumming some unknown patterns. His heartbeat thumping in your ear, the perfect lullaby. The steady rise and fall of his chest is like waves, rocking you into a sweet slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy like velvet drapes. There’s still a stubborn voice in your brain keeping you from falling asleep. There’s still one more thing you need to do, even though you understood each other perfectly.

“Jake?” Your voice low like a murmur. Jake almost didn’t hear you at first.

“What is it, babe?”

“I love you.” Those words come out as a slur, and like a magic spell, you fall into the deep embrace of sleep as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips. Now clear of any stress and worries in the arms of your lover, the strained string in you brain that has been holding on for dear life the whole evening finally snaps. You’re out like a light.

“I love you back, y/n, through and through.” He whispers into your dream.

You woke up to an empty bed, the sheet on his side still has the human-shaped imprint. Jake is a night owl; it is pretty common that he just gets up in the middle of the night and ends up doing some random things around the house. Most often it’s him strumming the guitar and experimenting with his ideas for new tunes in the home studio downstairs. But you have also caught him fixing chipped paint on the walls, repotting the succulents in the garage, and pouring broth into the crockpot with chicken thighs and smoked ham hock (“so we could have warm chicken chili in the morning!”; to be honest, it’s indeed delicious; you had two bowls and had to skip lunch that day). Just to name a few, so the possibilities are endless.

You get out of bed, creep cross the corridor and tiptoe your way down the stairs. The lights at the doorway are on; you thought Jake forgot to turn them off. However, as you approach, you see Jake squatting down next to the shoe rack, his back towards you, and a brush and some spray bottles laying nearby.

You move closer and see him holding the clothes steamer near your wine-stained shoes. The heels you wore have a suede tip in the front, and unfortunately, that’s where the wine was mostly spilt on. After a few moments, Jake uses the wire brush to clean the surface. He stops from time to time, holding it further to inspect the result.

You waited until he stops again to make some sounds, announcing your presence. Jake immediately turns around. His eyes softens upon seeing you.

“What are you doing up?”

You go to squat down next to him, kissing his temple before resting your head on his shoulder.

“You just bought these not so long ago, yeah? It’d be a shame to leave them stained.” Jake lets more steam soak into the fabric before brushing them again. “I’m almost done. I saw this trick online, and it looks pretty legit.” It’s only then that you noticed his phone on the side, the screen showing the replies from some Reddit post.

“Thank you, baby.” You rub your cheeks slightly on his T-shirt; the feeling of warm pastry once again fills your heart.

“No worries, doll. I think it’s good for now. Let’s leave them here and check in the morning.” Jake starts putting away his tools before pulling you up and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back upstairs.

On your way, something familiar catches your eye. You must’ve missed it earlier.

“Wait, where did you get that?” You stop, pointing at what happens to be a whole case of your favourite snack lying on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, I saw the stores are out of them, so I ordered them online. They just arrived today.” Jake scratches his head, his tone tainted with slight disappointment.“I thought they’d be a nice surprise as stocking stuffers, but…”

You stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss.

“I love you.” This time you said it clear against his lips.

“Oh doll, I love you back,” he smiles, showing the cutest wrinkle on his nose. His hands brush your shoulder as you resume your steps upstairs. “Let’s get a few more hours of sleep now. And when you wake up, you will wake up to some yummy pancakes and a pair of stain-free shoes, huh? How does that sound?”

Oh Lord, that sounds heavenly. That sounds just like home.

“I’d like that, Jake. I’d like that very, very much.”

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

Thank you for reading :) any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

(The stain-removing tips comes from malccy72 on reddit :D

If you also feel like reading a smutty (but also fluffy?) piece🤭: Mariner's Complex || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones

or some Christmas fluff: Ticked (all my boxes)

#jake kiskza x reader #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic

[your-local-grubdog]

Wait actually can we talk about Leaflings real fast. Because. What the actual fuck.

Also sorry if I curse a lot more here than usual but like 90% of my genuine reactions to this topic is "what the FUCK" so uhh get used to it I guess.

Huge thanks to @saihahas for helping me with some image transcripts as well.

Major story spoilers below you have been warned. Ok let's go.

So you're able to just rise from the dead in pikmin 4. No, seriously. You can do that.

At the end of Olimar's side story we get this scene and associated line:

[Image transcript: White text on a black screen that says "But at that very moment, my life support system failed" END TRANSCRIPT]

Like. He died. His life support system failed. He DIED. And moments later, he was revived as a leafling. He died and came back from the dead. Like, what the fuck????

It even fixed up his injuries he got prior to becoming a leafling. Just a full on revival.

Image transcript (one leads into the other naturally)

Collin: By the by, Olimar, is there anything you remember from right before or after you became a leafling? Any additional details?

Olimar: Not particularly. It didn't feel bad or anything like that. In fact, it was quite revitalizing.

Olimar: My chronically stiff shoulders and all the injuries I'd sustained during my explorations healed immediately.

Yonny: Hmm... Perhaps leafification has highly restorative effects...

Yonny: This is definitely something worth looking into, eheheh. END OF TRANSCRIPT.

Now we don't know if everyone who was a leafling had to die before hand, though there is a common thread that they were at least unconscious... And had just escaped deadly situations... I think Olimar found them moments before they died and, not knowing any other way to save them, leafed them as well. Something they bear no ill will towards him for - in fact, they're thankful for him.

Image transcript:

Jin: When I was leafified, I could not stop thinking about the art of Dandori. It was like an endless meditation.

Jin: A leafling appeared in front of me after the ship crashed and I had used up all of my flagging energy.

Jin: My intuition told me they were not a bad person. I also felt as though they were determined to achieve something

Jin: I am afraid I do not recall much of what happened after that, as I lost consciousness. END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Corgwin: I was attacked by a creature, and right before I lost consciousness, I saw something overhead. It was a leafling

Corgwin: They had such sad eyes, but there was more going on in there. Their eyes were full of determination.

Corgwin: I have to believe there is a reason why they do what they do. Turning castaways into leaflings, I mean.

Corgwin: Your time is limited, so think it through! END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Bernard: You need anything else?

Bernard: Even when Olimar was leafed out, he was still trying to RESCUE folks!

Bernard: And there I was with my head focused on nothing but Dandori stuff. HOO, he's one tough cookie!

Bernard: You need anything else? END TRANSCRIPT.

Ok Bernard's conversation doesn't add to the "he found them in deadly situations" point but it DOES show that all of his "victims" think highly of him for the fact that he had saved them and others. (Also, side note, Olimar had sad eyes... Poor bastard thought he was never going home to his wife and kids, was visibly depressed over this, and STILL was trying to save people. Olimar is like, genuinely such a good fucking person God damn.)

Now being a leafling is undead and comes with its own slew of problems. Namely, the fact Dandori takes over your brain (probably the pikmin survival instinct) and the fact you can no longer leave PNF-404. It's not even an air thing, it's not being on the planet that causes sickness, so not even spacesuits can fix it.

But then you're able to cure yourself of being a leafling. And just. Go back? To your normal life?????? Like nothing ever happened. You died and came back. What the fuck.

And to make that point worse. One of the key ingredients is Glow Sap. Which is produced by the Luminknolls. The only other thing the Luminknolls make is uh. Glow pikmin. Which.

“Although they've been named Glow Pikmin, it's not entirely clear whether or not this species is actually a type of Pikmin. These creatures possess the same fundamental behaviors of Pikmin, like carrying things, propagating, and fighting. They also share special characteristics, such as the leaf atop their head. Yet they do not spawn from an Onion but a Lumiknoll, and they are only active at night or underground. During the day, they revert into seeds and enter a resting state. What's even more surprising is that they exhibit no signs of life. When a Glow Pikmin "dies," if that word can even be used, it does not expire in the typical sense. Instead, it just becomes a form of light-or perhaps a photon-and returns to the Lumiknoll. Putting aside my "scientist" hat for a moment...it seems to me that this creature or entity may not be a living organism at all but some manner of spiritual substance.”

[Image Transcript: a screenshot of the Piklopedia showing the very end of the above quote. END TRANSCRIPT]

And just as some icing on the cake:

[Image transcript: Louie's piklopedia notes on the glow pikmin. All it says is "Doesn't smell alive." END TRANSCRIPT]

Cool they're fucking ghosts. Sorry I can't be convinced otherwise, they're clearly some sort of supernatural entity at MINIMUM. I just think spirit is most likely. They don't have to be the spirits of dead pikmin... Although... You can convert a Glow Pikmin into normal pikmin via a candy pop bud. I've done it before, I have no video of it but you can go and try it yourself if you'd like. And if they are spirits of pikmin then that means that we can also bring pikmin back from the dead. What the FUCK.

Anyways. I got side tracked sorry. My point was the Luminkolls make two things: Glow Sap and Glow Pikmin, which have similar names and similar appearances and. Are we using ghost juice to cure leaflings???? Which is used to reverse all negatives of being leafed. Which can be used to bring the dead back to life.

I don't know how to end this. I really really don't know how to end this. I just need someone else to scream about this with because it's so. It's so fucking WEIRD like what the hell. It's not enough that they may be humans, noooo, there's also undead creatures (excluding the mushroom guys those freaks have an explanation at the very least). This game is weird as hell but tbh I love it.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #borb screams

[wyniepooh]

Want

stuck in a dark, crowded bar, stuck against aaron hotchner. you want him to give in, he just wants you.

oh my GOD EXTREME tension. in fact the only plot point can be summed up in one word: TENSION. mentions of alcohol and tipsiness. bau!reader struggling with a particular case, hotch comforts… and does a little more 😊

the music was blaring entirely too loud.

your second drink was starting to become watered down as the light buzz you craved swarmed your head from your first. when you touched the cold glass, water wet your warm fingertips. a strong breeze enabled you to shiver and look towards the entrance, where a large group of young college students swarmed into the already stuffed and cramped room.

your ears had began to ring, and the flickering lights were making your eyes heavy with pain. you thought about walking out, getting some night air, and feeling the moonlight shine on your face. but when you finally decided to try and get up, there was barely any space left for you to even lift your arms up. you sighed, sitting back down on the beat up stool, elbows resting on the bar table.

“you okay?” the familiarly deep voice asked. you turned your head to reveal aaron behind you, still wearing what he had on this morning in the bau headquarters— his usual, perfectly tight suit with a scarily neat tie. the only noticeable difference in his appearance was that his usually gelled hair was, god forbid, messy. a couple stands of dark hair fell in front of his forehead.

you flashed him a brief smile, “yeah, fine.” you fiddled with the flashy umbrella toothpick in your glass.

he raised his brows, saying nothing because he knew the look in his eyes said it all. he knew how you really felt, but he also knew you would never admit you were anything but fine.

“still thinking about the case, aren’t you?”

you scoffed, “how could i not?” as you took another sip of your drink, images of the various children that were rescued from an abandoned truck flashed through your mind. they were alive, yes. but how could they possibly live life like they used to before? do they even remember what it was like? the sound of a screaming girl filled your brain.

you ran both your hands through your hair, letting out a loud sigh. “god, i hate when kids are involved.”

“i know. me too.”

“they just..” you gulped back a stone in your throat, “they’re so innocent. or, they were once. but now… it’s all gone. i hate that they won’t ever chase butterflies or play in the sand box again, or play in the snow or get ice cream on the beach. all those memories are ruined for them now.”

aaron let out a sigh. a beat passed, and you knew he was thinking of what to say. after a moment, the silence was interrupted by his hushed voice. “agent. they may not have their childhood anymore, but they’ll continue to have their teenagehood, their adulthood, maybe their motherhood or fatherhood. and it’s all because of the work you’ve done. the work we’ve all done. focus on the good. instead of thinking about what they were, think about what they will be.”

you lowered your head slightly, your hair falling to cover you face. you smiled to yourself over his words. fuck, he always knew what to say. why did he always have to know what to say?

a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as he settled on the stool beside you. he declined the bartender for a drink with a firm extend of his hand, turning his whole body towards you instead. you opened your mouth, then closed it. you wanted to thank him, or at least say something. but no words could be heard coming from your mouth.

aaron, as usual, noticed your discomfort. he tilted his head towards the door with a soft grin and said,

“let’s get out of here.”

you chuckled gratefully, nodding and pushing back your stool to allow yourself to try and get up once again. but before you could turn around, a sudden push pressed your stomach harshly against the bar table.

you exclaimed quietly before looking back at the crowd and rolling your eyes as a sigh came over you. you were completely trapped between the bar table and a group of drunk, dancing, college guys singing annoyingly off-key. seeing your position, hotch comes over and wedges himself between you and a drunk guy who was letting his hands fall a little too close to your tight jeans.

with his chest to your back, he rested a light hand on your arm, leaning down to whisper, “are you okay?”

your face flushed at the close proximity, his hand placement, and the way his words tingled your ears. you were suddenly thankful the room was so dark and swarming with strobe lights, as it was hopefully concealing your ragged breaths and red cheeks. you cleared your throat before responding.

“yeah, fine. just…” you wiggled and attempted to turn, “…totally stuck,” you chuckled.

another push came from behind, both his arms coming down to grip the bar table in front of you.

“just stay like this for a while. we’ll sneak out once this song ends and they stop singing like maniacs and spread out a little more.”

you nodded in response, your head down in embarrassment as you notice just how tight you two are pressed together, and how big his hands look resting on the table compared to yours. people on the dance floor began to move to the beat of the music, the waves of pushes like currents in the sea during a stormy night. another push. and another. one after the other.

whenever you turned your head or adjusted your position, you felt a rush of warm air kiss your ears, making your arms feel like jelly. you were glad the stool aided you in holding you up, as clearly, your arms couldn’t do the job any longer.

it certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve felt so nervous and electrified around aaron, but each time you did, you manage to surprise yourself with just how tender you get.

ever since you walked into the bau building, you knew you were screwed. just up laying eyes on aaron hotchner, you knew your days would suddenly start to feel longer. aaron with his neatly ironed suits, aaron with his gucci ties. aaron with his soothing, dark, voice, neat hair, and clean cologne. aaron who always, always checked up on everyone, aaron who would lightly touch your arm or caress the side of your face. aaron who says “atta girl”, and taps his hand on your back when he hugs. aaron who gave you soft smiles when other weren’t looking and aaron who only occasionally laughed at your lame jokes.

it was no surprise, really, that you had begun to look forward to getting up every morning to go to work.

a particularly harsh bump pushed aaron firmly against you, and a grunt make it’s way past his lips. it was hard to tell with all your senses on alert and tingling, but you heard him mumble something incoherently under his breath. you inhaled sharply, shaking your head quickly to get rid of the butterflies in your stomach.

you told yourself maybe it was the alcohol speaking. maybe the strobe lights were making you hallucinate, or maybe the music was making you think of other things. all of it was responsible for making you imagine the quickening of aaron’s heartbeat against your back, his ragged breaths, the way his hands tightened it’s grip on the table.

but really, in that moment, the music zoned out. your eyes no longer hurt from the flashing lights and everyone disappeared from view. it was just you, and him.

you finally found the courage to turn your head and look back at him, his forehead a little sweaty and his lips pursued. you looked down quickly. the both of you were so close, yet so far. he was holding back. his need, his desire. a fated push caused aaron’s nose to rub roughly against yours, and your broken breaths synced. you leaned forward, your nose still on his. you opened your mouth as if to say something, but you said nothing. you didn’t need to.

you eyes moved up to try and find his, but he was already looking at you. one of his hands came down to rest on your stomach, inching you even deeper against him. he leaned down, his lips barely brushing yours. it was completely silent for a moment. then, he breathed,

“do you want this?”

-

a/n: consent is sexy everyone 😇

#wyniepooh #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #ssa hotchner #agent hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #cm imagine #hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch smut #cm smut #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you

[nightgoodomens]

So how about a one shot where Aziraphale realises he has hots for Crowley getting his hands dirty?

😈😈😈😈

Aziraphale decided that he really should have fallen a very long time ago.

He never out loud admitted that he was putting himself in danger to get Crowley to save him - or in other words - to see him. It would probably be seen as pathetic or blasphemous considering he was pretending to be a poor Angel in need of saving by a Demon. But Crowley always showed up and never judged him and Aziraphale wondered if he knew.

He probably did. Crowley was a cheeky bastard but for some reason never tried to tease him about this, so Aziraphale decided he went along with it because he liked saving him. Or he liked him.

Hey, it worked for every heroine in the book. That’s where he got the idea from in the first place. They were always saved by the handsome bad boy that was only soft for them. Aziraphale decided to test out the little fantasy - and it worked. He liked the feeling of being rescued, he always struggled to pretend that he doesn’t really need the help, because his face was probably beaming from happiness. It wasn’t just the rescuing, it was seeing the demon and knowing he might be able to spend a few hours in his company.

But those days were long over. Now he and that demon had their own cottage and there was nothing to be rescued from… apart from a neighbour who tried to stick her nose in their business and Crowley found it funny until she said a mean thing to Aziraphale and he snapped at her in a way that ensured she never bothered them again.

Aziraphale was content and happy. They really finally had their peace. And he had Crowley all for himself.

Things were so peaceful in fact that he forgot that Crowley was a tempting creature. Aziraphale was used to him, he knew his flirt, he knew the seduction. He was lucky to have all of this in his normal everyday life.

But what was infuriating was that Crowley didn’t know of all the ways he was seductive when he wasn’t trying.

Or perhaps Aziraphale really should have fallen because he had a goddamn dirty mind.

Six thousand years! This is how long he knew the demon for, but only when they got the cottage he found out that Crowley was very much into sorting things out himself. He worked on the Bentley. He fixed the boiler. He fixed their appliances. He was so good at figuring things out.

And Aziraphale should had been a good partner who appreciated having such a hands on partner. Instead he felt himself swallowing hard seeing him working without a T-shirt on, sweat and dirt smudged across the uncovered body, as he twisted his slim hips to get behind the old boiler which played up again.

Or… it might have been… Aziraphale who broke it.

Why was he finding it so hot?! It was Crowley! He was hot and sexy and Aziraphale could have him whenever he wanted since that demon was last to say no, cheeky grin on his face majority of the time. They had a lot of years to catch up on, that was their excuse.

Yet somehow that bloody snake was not catching up that Aziraphale was breaking things on purpose to see him twisting, half naked and dirty.

Not even when he convinced Bentley to suddenly start losing oil because good lord Crowley covered in black smudges.

“You know what?” Crowley spoke up, one hand on the boiler, hot, sweaty and dirty. “I think we need to call someone over. I am clearly doing something wrong if it keeps on breaking. We can’t live here like this, it gets so hot. I’m sweating! I’ve never sweat in my life!”

“What?” Aziraphale’s voice was way too high. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect.”

Crowley would have given him a surprised look normally, but he was too busy wondering what was wrong with the boiler.

Aziraphale wondered if his miracle was a bit too good this time. They were really getting too easy for him to do at this stage.

God, help me.

God was probably laughing her ass off at him.

“It’s not that hot.” Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively.

“Angel. We are melting.” Crowley looked at him surprised, finally.

His hair was stuck to his forehead.

God, forgive me, for I am going to sin so badly, Aziraphale breathed.

God was definitely laughing now.

“What’s up?” Crowley was suddenly right in front of his face. Aziraphale groaned. “You’re being really weird.”

Get the hint you bloody demon.

“I am not weird!” Aziraphale scoffed, trying to be offended but his hands were touching Crowley’s chest, so that didn’t work out.

“You’re going to get your hands dirty, Angel.” Crowley said, still not getting the hint.

“I don’t mind.”

Crowley looked confused for a moment, but he finally did get the hint -when Aziraphale’s hands reached his belt and pulled him closer.

“Angel.” Crowley’s face turned into that smug smirk that Aziraphale loved but would never admit it. “Are you trying to tell me you like me like this?”

“Only for the past three months, dear.” He unlocked his belt and threw it to the floor.

Crowley laughed delighted. “You’re the one who keeps on breaking everything.”

“Possibly.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Just take your pants off, Crowley.”

He wasn’t planning to worship God tonight.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable fandom #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable dumbasses #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #aziracrow

[sturn3]

getting stuck in your college elevator with chris wasn't for the weak.

safe to say the two of you had some unresolved tension between you. wether it be the fact that you liked him in highschool or the fact that he's an entitled asshole. typical athlete in college.

when you rushed to the elevator, not knowing what your fate would be, you found a sweaty chris in his tank top with his sweater over his shoulders carrying his sport gear. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you feel a certain type of way. well, that was until he opened his mouth. usually, always the case with him. you were never the girl to take shit from anyone and he loved to challenge you. although, that was not the situation today.

today ,you faced the weakest version of chris.

"oh my god, we are gonna die."

"shut up chris, we've only been here for ten minutes. someone is gonna find us, surely." you said as you started fanning yourself, ready to put your hair in a ponytail from how hot the elevator was getting.

even though chris was going through it, he couldn't help but look down at you, the glistering sweat on your neck and chest making his head spin. your hair in the smoothest ponytail had him genuinely tweaking. he was trapped in his sweetest death.

he couldn't help but wonder how on god's green earth you were so chill about it. was this a daily occurence for you or what? did you do this with other boys too? he was truly losing it from the heat and lack of fresh air.

"hellooooo??? can you hear me loser?" he suddenly heard your voice interrupting his train of thoughts about you . "what'd you want?" he said playing nonchalant as if you weren't occupying his thoughts.

"i asked if you were okay. i know you're claustrophobic. maybe we could try to open the thing at the top to get out but you'll have to carry me on your shoulders for that." he looked down at your long legs showing with your choice of clothing, a denim mini skirt, truly the only thing holding him from a panic attack.

"ew perv! stop looking at me like that!" you said as you snatched the sweater he had long thrown on the ground in a moment of stress and rage, to cover your legs from him.

"as tempting as sounds to hold you in my shoulders and look up your skirt, princess, i'm not risking getting hit in the back of my head and suffering a terminal brain injury."

"whatever chris, stay stuck in here." you said as you crossed your arms and turned on to face the other side of the elevator, sick of looking at him and even attempting to come up with a solution. he was truly one of a kind and left you to wonder what the fuck is going on in his head.

another ten minutes passed and no one has came to your rescue yet. making you start worrying too. well, for the time being you had to worry about chris' silence and his loud heavy breathing. as annoying as he was, you could not let him suffer. you turned around to find him trying to come down from a panic attack. "hey chris, look at me, can you breath for me?" mimic my actions you said as you started inhaling and exhaling.

"no, no. i- i can't." he said choking up on his words. suddenly, the only solution that came to you was to kiss him. that usually worked in movies. you surely has nothing to lose.

"hey! look at me." you said and he suddenly sat up as you leaned in to shut him up before he had a chance to start blabbering about whatever it was that you did not wanna listen to. as you continued to kiss him, he melted against you and started to find a rythm. his hands coming to rest on your hips as he tried to pull you off the ground on to his lap, to straddle him. you suddenly found yourself getting lost in the kiss, tugging his hair and biting his botom lip, only to hear him groan underneath you. you'd be lying if you said you weren't extremely turned on right now. the heat of the confined space adding to the atmosphere. all you could do is grind yourself against him to release the tension you were feeling. he was such a good kisser and you hated it.

suddenly, he pulled away ,leaving you with a pouty face. he laughed at you and booped your nose, "you're so cute when you're so needy for me. much better, than when you're fighting me in english lit."

"maybe if you kept kissing me instead of talking, you'd be cuter too."

"oh, yeah? is that how it is?" he said laughing as he adjusted a piece of your hair that had fallen in your face.

as you were about to answer, the door suddenly opened , startling you. thank god, no one was on the other side of it to see you situated on top of your enemy.

you immediately got up, adjusted your clothes and rushed out there, suddenly so ashamed of your doings. just when you thought you got away from him, you felt a hand pulling you backwards, only to look up and see chris. his blue orbs burned through you. he leaned down to whisper to you "come to my room tonight." leaving you there standing speechless as he made his way to wherever he was going. you were so fucked.

this was supposed to be a matt fic but it was too goofy, it gave me chris vibes! so chris girls enjoy!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

[yourlocaltreesimp]

dang that puppet idea you had and okami's bit gave me shivers! What do you think the chain's individual reactions would be?

These have admittedly been sitting here for a while…. Sorry! Based on this, and this. Hope you enjoy!

TW: mentions Kidnapping, hallucinations and malnourishment, murder, does this qualify as yandere? Putting it here just in case

Also i’m trying out a new format so yeah

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Time

At first he blames the shadow. It’s convenient. It’s easy. He knows that your kidnapping was logically not his fault. There was nothing he could’ve done. He kills without remorse until he finds you. The blood dripping from his blade is the last thing he’s aware of when he finally sees you. He’s more keenly aware of the gnawing guilt as he sees how badly you’ve been treated, clothes ragged and that apathetic thousand yard stare. His heart was ripped from him, leaving him to bleed out slowly, to wither away without you.

Twilight

I mean when I say that he goes feral. Just a smidge if we’re sticking with the not yandere Twi, but hoo boy if he is that is a feral man. He has no care for the bodies he leaves in his wake to finally get back to you and is beyond pissed to see that you’ve been not only harmed, but taunted with the image of you. But that rage falters when you don’t notice them and when you grow sorrowful… he can’t imagine what they’ve done to you so that your very mind is different. But when he gets a hold of that shadow he swears his death will be merciless.

Wild

He’s absolutely beside himself after you first disappeared, and perhaps they all were. But He couldn’t snap back so readily, no matter what it takes. The others give him a hard time, their stress getting the better of them, but all he remembers is 100 years ago and the constant pressure to be good enough. Twice now he’s been a disappointment. He spirals in on himself when he sees hollowed cheeks and dull eyes that hold no warmth of remembrance. The you in front of him is not enough to ease his worries.

Warriors

One of the most level headed after you first disappeared, making good enough plans until they could find you. But he places all of the blame on himself. He’s supposed to be better than letting comrades be stolen and taken to their deaths. He’s supposed to be a better leader than that. And the consequences bear on him when you do little more than stare at the wall and him to yourself. He’s seen soldiers walk out of war less haunted than how you looked. And to think he was supposed to shield you from the violence.

Hyrule

He lost himself a little in the beginning. He’d become so used to the company, to having you there, that he’s acutely aware of the missing spot. He tries to fool himself into believing you’re there, setting out your bedroll and leaving a spot where you’d usually sit at dinner, but it only serves to make him feel worse. It takes everything in him to restrain himself when he sees you. The barrier shocked him when he tried to reach you and his magic couldn’t get through. He wouldn’t last much longer without you there.

Sky

He’s incredibly quick to resort to isolation. He caves in on himself at the fact that another he’s loved so dearly has been so violently taken away from him and lot to suffer. But the first time around the surface was safe enough, and Zelda had Impa… but you were not given the luxuries of safety and protection. He was going to rescue you if it took everything from him. Because you were his everything. If killing another god is what must be done to get you back then his sword is in hand.

Legend

Yeah he didn’t take this well. He isolates himself out of pure frustration, with both himself, the others and the shadow. And to whatever poor soul gets in his way, I truly am sorry. He downs more bodies than probably reasonable, but it’s methodical. It keeps his focus off of you, what they’ve rendered you down to, the husk you’ve become. He takes so many lives so that yours may be returned to you.

Wind

He tries not to stress, to stay laid back and to glue the group together. He tries to pretend like nothings wrong, because he knows that it’s what you’d want. He knows you wouldn’t want him to worry. But he has half a mind to go off and find you on his own. He already found and saves Aryll, so what’s another Sibling to save? But that determination wilts at how hollow and broken you look, unwilling to acknowledge them as anything more than hallucinations. But he knows you’ll get better soon. You’re tougher than this… right?

Four

He finds a hard time keeping himself together, physically and literally. There’s so many conflicting orders in his mind that it’s difficult to breathe. You used to calm him, to ease his nerves and soothe his mind. But to see how mistreated you were, to see how his carelessness harmed you, that only served to make his already scattered mind shattered.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #link x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe #firreplies #fir’s library

[igotanidea]

Glimmer: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason Todd x fem!reader who is optimistic, sees good in people and gives him hugs and kisses when he comes from patrol.

****

She never knew it, and even if she did she would totally refuse to believe it, but there was something in her eyes that always made Jason feel better about world and about himself. A bit.

He met Y/N on one of his night patrols and not-so-surprisingly rescued her from a mugger. Typical Gotham occurrence, but unlike any other citizen of this god-forsaken city she did not seem shaken or terrified or even sad.

“How are you so fine with what happened?” instead of taking off the second the robber was dealt with Jason found himself captured by her unusual behavior

“I’m not” she sighed deeply and her e/c orbs focused on him, making him shake inside due to the intensity of the gaze “I’m not all right with how Gotham affects people. That the poor had to go to the great lengths to survive on the streets while crime lords have everything. I’m not fine with the fact that kids here suffer because their parents abandoned them. I hate that GCPD seem helpless when it comes to dealing with all this shit and vigilantes have to take matters in their own hands.”

“So, pretty much you hate Batman?” Jason scoffed, trying to act casually, not showing how touched he was by the mention of kids on the streets. After all, he was one of them many years ago and the memory of what he went through was still hunting him sometimes.

“I never said that!” she laughed. She laughed a few seconds after a traumatic events. “I admire everything he does. But unlike our fierce protector, I’d rather focus on seeing good in people.”

“Good?” Jason scoffed, his helmet muffling the sound a bit “There’s nothing good in this shithole.”

‘Maybe that is your problem, Red. Your aim is to get rid of the crime lords. Arguably by killing them all off….”

“I don’t do that anymore.” He chimed in

“Then hurting them. Injuring them. Making them remember the pain. I’d rather spread the good emotions. Like in the homeless shelter where I volunteer after work. Or at the child center. You should see the smile on those people faces just because you gave them ten minutes of your time. To talk, to actually ask them how they feel, if there’s anything they would like to do. Elders have so many to say, yet no one ever listens. And children, those poor little souls, who did nothing wrong in their life, except for what’s necessary to survive. A hug or a joke is enough to make them cry happy tears.”

“You’re being awfully optimistic, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help being who I am” she smiled so bright, Jason could swear that it lighted up the whole alley “you should try that sometimes, Red Hood. Anyway, sorry for keeping you this long, bet you have another parts of the city to patrol.” Once again her beaming, hopeful, sincere eyes landed on his face (or rather helmet) “thank you for helping me. I know you do not see yourself this way, but what you do matters. The method may be a bit extreme, but still, I appreciate what you did. What you do.”

“I……” Jason stuttered. It was the first time someone actually said something like that to him. Was he really good in her eyes?

“I gotta go.” She shook he head, hair falling all over her face and Jason had to use all his strength to fight the urge to brush those strands of. There was something about this girl…. ”Stay safe, Hood, will you?” she turned around and started walking away, but he called after her, making her stop.

“Can I get your name?!”

“Wonder why that matters to you.” she laughed, but decided in favor of answering “It’s Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”  with a single wave of the hand she was gone, leaving Jason wondering and muttering that single word over and over again.

***

“Hey, Drake. I got a favor to ask.”

“And out of all the people in the world you came to me?” Tim raised an eyebrow “You must be truly desperate, Todd.”

“I can always go and ask Barbara. Bet she’ll deal with the search I need much faster than you. She’s an expert after all.” Jason smirked knowing well enough how the reverse psychology affected Tim.

“Better!? No way!! What do you need?” the younger boy spun around on the chair, now facing the bat computer, fingers hanging over the keyboard, twitching in anticipation.

“I want to find a person. I only got a name, Y/N, possible living location and I know she works at the homeless shelter and kid center. Can you target her?”

“don’t know.” Tim tapped his chin, wondering “Is he a Red Hood’s object of interest or Jason Todd’s one?”

Fuck. There was no good answer to that question and Jason found himself falling right into Tim’s trap. 

“Let’s say a little bit of both.”

“Whatever you say……”

***

Tim was faster than Jason anticipated and with just a few clicks and searches he managed to locate the girl. And just a few minutes later, after breaking some speed limits (Bruce would pay for the tickets obviously) Todd was in front of the building she was spending her evening at.

It’s been a while since Jason seen so many hurt and scared people in one place and that reminded him how much crime actually was in Gotham. He was fighting some part of it, but the rest…. Damn it. The view was just painful. Starting from a few-years old, ending up on the elders, every age group has a representation in this place. And amongst all those citizens he saw Y/N. With messy hair and a smudge of something that seemed like a paint, but was awfully similar to blood she was telling a story to a bunch of kids, one of them placed on her knees. That little dirt on her cheek made Jason shudder. In the depths of his mind he already saw her injured, bleeding in some alley, after being attacked or raped, her optimistic attitude not serving as a shield.  But apparently her positive attitude was not a result of obliviousness and being raised in separation from the bad aspects of life, but rather the opposite. She experienced the sadness and pain everyday while working with those people and yet, remained cheerful. That was….. strangely alluring.

“Hey there.” She put the kid down, noticing him standing in the aisle, looking confused “Are you lost? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” she was so tiny in comparison with a tank Jason was and she wanted to help him. Not even expecting anything in return.  

“No…. I ……”

“Hey, it’s ok.” she reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder and he immediately felt the warmth coming all over his body. “You’re safe here. We can give you any aid you need.”

“I don’t need help. “ Jason shook his head.

“You sure?” she tilted her head “Cause it seems to me like you got a strained muscles, a bruise on the jaw and some cuts on the forearms.”

“You are quite observant, aren’t you?”

“Did my time as a doctor assistant.” She shrugged “never get to finish though”

“Why?”

“Um… you know, typical Gotham stuff. Parents getting shot. No one to help me pay for college…. I had to tend for myself and that required a full time job, not just studying. So I dropped. Became an assistant nurse instead. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work hours, but  get to make ends meet.”

“And you still find time to volunteer?”

“Like I said to someone before, I’d rather help people by spreading good. Seriously, can I help you with anything…..?”her voice hanged a bit and it took him a while before realizing she was waiting for hi name.

“I’m Jason. And I …. I think I want to be a volunteer as well.”

***

It’s been three years since then.

Three years in which she was constantly surprising him with her attitude, her smile, her uptake on things.

Three years of her being his rock, getting him through the shittiest, lowest day, never letting him give up or his darkness and shadow consume him. She was his ray of sun on those days when he had no power to push through.

Jason was not the first person to trust people, but somehow she managed to gain it quite quickly. After a few months of acquaintance, shaking because of the emotions (mostly fear) he told her about his alter ego, awaiting abandonment, terrified, judgmental gaze and her leaving him for good.

There was a moment of silence after his confession, two young adults just sitting on the couch opposite of each other. Jason looking down, silent begging for her to not leave him, missing the fact that Y/N’s signature honest gaze were focused on him.

“Jason….” she said quietly, careful not to startle him “Jace, please look at me.” The boy hesitantly raised his head, scared what he might see on the girl’s face “did you think I would leave you?”

“Yes.” He blurted not able to control himself anymore.

“You silly boy.” She leaned forward slightly, reaching for his cheek, not touching yet, since she learned how hard physical contact was for him “Can I?”

“Please….” He mumbled, and once she cupped his face, immediately leaned into the touch. So touch starved, so desperate for her, without even realizing this.

“Listen to me, Jason Todd. I am not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” she whispered “I’m honestly a bit offended you could even think something like that. Do you even know me?”

“I know you see good in place where there is none. And I’m no good. I’m bad news, always have been and….”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” She hissed and not giving a shit about being gentle put her lips on his, the urge being just too strong to hold it anymore. “Sorry….” Just a few seconds later she realized what she did and pulled back, her face turning apologetic. “I didn’t mean to push….”

“Come back here” Jason breathed out, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming her lips again, this time fully. God, he never knew how much he craved her and how much fear of rejection on her part he had.  “I need you.” he whispered pulling her flush to him “God, I shouldn’t  but I need you so bad.”

“Good thing it’s mutual.” She smiled, brushing a curl from his face and connecting their foreheads

“But….” He tried to say.

“if you start talking about that shit about darkness and everything else I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“Are you threatening the Red Hood, princess?”

“Guess, I am” she laughed, realizing that little fact “is it working?”

“Sure as hell it is.” Jason gasped before closing the gap between them.

***

Y/N was quickly accepted into the Wayne family, turning into a valuable member of the team. And damn, she was good at working with Oracle from the cave. But the most important part of her job (in her own words) was still giving the good vibes. Keeping the batboys (and batgirls) up and running, showing them how much good they were doing and how grateful people were for that.

Jason needed it more than anyone else, still doubting himself and dealing with past trauma, not that anyone blamed him for that. If nothing else, dying and resurrecting definitely have an effect on one’s mentality. And that was precisely why, Y/N would always stay up in the night, waiting for Jay to come back from the patrol to welcome him in the most caring and loving way she could.

“Jace!” she jumped off the couch as soon as she heard him walk thought the door, his helmet and jacket already discarded on the floor. She practically jumped into his arms, wrapping legs and arms around him, tugging her boyfriend tightly, feeling his muscles relax under her touches and caresses.

“Hi, baby….” He sighed deeply feeling her in his arms. The only person that made everything he did worth the effort.

“My hero.” She tugged him even tighter, hands tangling in his hair massaging gently.

“Hero? That’s funny princess. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Grayson? Do you wish that it was someone else in your arms?”

“What are you…..?” she pulled back from him slightly, but his arms kept her in place, familiar smirk forming on his face. “You are incorrigible Todd! Why are you constantly playing with me?”

“Cause you look cute with that surprised Pikachu face” he kissed the top of her nose and she pouted.

“Stop it! It’s my job to kiss you and hug you. You’re tired and hurt. Let me take care of you.” her hand travelled down from his neck and rested on his heart “Please, love. I just want to take all the pain from you. Let me, Jason.” she was practically begging him now, and the fact that he truly had someone who was willing to do that for him was making him melt. Since the words failed him, he just nodded, closing his eyes not to show any vulnerability. Almost three years of being together and it was still hard for him to show her his emotional side. “Open those eyes” she commanded, once he put her back on the floor and they just stood in place. “I love you, Jason.” Y/N said with fully convinced voice “whatever you think about yourself, you are a hero to me.” a little kiss on his forehead “A protector.” Kiss on his nose “a fighter” one on each of his cheeks “I can never see you differently” a peck on his lips, too short, leaving him wanting more and chasing her lips “but it’s me. You don’t need to act strong with me when you are tired. You don’t need to hide your emotions. You could never be too vulnerable for me. I accept and somewhat understand Red hood, but it’s Jason Todd I fell in love with. My Jason. The emotional one. All right, baby?’ she caressed his cheek, grabbing his hand and leading him backwards towards the bed “will you rest with me?”

“Yes.” He whispered “Please……”

“All right.” She helped him lay down and once he rested head on her chest, feeling her fingers play with his hair, the other hand caressing her back, Jason slowly let the tension and the burden of opinion, judgments and expectations go.

She was making him feel better about himself.

She was making him feel better about world.

And maybe it was wrong and selfish and careless, but he loved her.

And he was going to tell her that.

Soon.  

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #fluff #dc fluff #tim drake #jason todd fic #red hood x you #red hood x oc

[kydrogendragon]

Dec 26 - Sweet Kisses

(Ao3 Link) (Masterpost Link)

Hob is dreaming.

Well, he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. He doesn’t remember his flat having candles for light, not for a long time. And the small leviathan relaxing in his sink is also a decent giveaway. He blinks and suddenly the sleepy haze of his dreamscape shifts into stronger clarity.

A figure stands before him clad in flowing black robes with equally flowy hair. His skin is pale white and he’s staring at Hob. There have been many dreams that Hob has dreamt of his Stranger before. He doesn’t know why now he knows this is not merely his mind’s version, but his actual Stranger. No. Not Stranger. Not anymore. It’s… it’s Dream.

Memories flood back into him. The rescue, the fishbowl prison of glass and iron, Alexander Burgess’s blood coating the basement floor. Right, Hob thinks to himself. Dream smirks and steps closer. He is taller here than he was when Hob last saw him. In fact, he’s a good head or two taller than him. Hob swallows as he tilts his head back to stare at the sharp angles and dark eyes of his friend. He knows he’s dreaming, that he’s asleep, but he swears he can still feel blood rushing south as his friend looms over him.

“Hello Hob,” his friend says. Good God, it sounds like his voice is everywhere. It’s like Hob is swimming in that velvety deep voice of his. It’s not doing his dick any favors.

“Hello old friend,” he says. “I am dreaming, right?”

His friend huffs, but the smile on his face remains. “Yes.”

“Ah. Right.” Hob wants to look around if for no other reason than to hopefully distract his body from how easily aroused it is by just being looked at. But he can’t. All he can do is stare up into those pitch black eyes of his. It’s a mesmerizing sight. The longer Hob looks, the more he thinks he can make out… yes, yes those are stars in his eyes. Christ on the cross, of course his friend has stars for eyes.

“I promised you I would return, did I not?” His friend whispers as he leans in closer. Hob can feel his own breath bouncing back at him off of Dream’s face. He tries to suppress the shiver that runs down his spine and utterly fails. Memories of their kiss, of the feeling of Dream’s lips on his and the promise of more hits him and he moans.

“That you did… I’ll admit, thought I would have seen you in the real world, not in a dream.” His friend frowns.

“Dreams are as real as the Waking World.” He leans in, brushing his lips against Hob’s. “Are you unhappy with this?”

Hob reaches his hands out, holding gently onto Dream’s hips to keep him close. “No, never. Just… not what I expected was all. Not complaining. I’ll take anything. Whatever you give me.”

Dream hums as he finally presses his mouth to Hob’s. It’s different here, in a dream. Both more real and not. And then Dream’s tongue is pressing into him and it’s hot and soft and so much more than he was mentally prepared for. He gasps into Dream’s mouth and earns a growl in response. Cool, slender hands hold Hob’s face between them and Dream leans further into the kiss. Hob’s head is nearly staring straight up in order to stay connected. His neck is vaguely aching, but he couldn’t care less.

They part, at some point. Hob’s pretty sure he ought to have passed out by then, but he is still dreaming, so he chalks it up to that. Dream gazes down at him, those deep space eyes of his hooded as he trails a finger down the side of Hob’s face.

“I am not an easy lover, Hob Gadling. I will demand all of you. I would consume you and all that you are. I will bring you nothing but ruin.” His voice is soft but shakes as he speaks. It breaks Hob’s heart.

“Then ruin me. I have all but been ruined for anyone else but you. Ruined for anyone else’s touch or kiss.” Hob pulls Dream back down and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. Dream goes willingly and all but melts against Hob’s form. Hob wraps his arms around his friend and realizes that he is, in fact, melting slightly. Or his robes are at least? Hob thinks that’s a good thing.

“This dream is over.”

Hob wakes up with a gasp, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. Then, he processes the unfamiliar weight on his legs. Looking up, he sees the more familiar version of his friend, of Dream, perched over his thighs. His eyes are no longer the dark black and star-filled ones he had just gotten used to but the brilliant ocean blue he first fell in love with.

Reaching out his arms, Hob smiles. “C’mere love,” he says, his voice thick and rough with sleep. Dream stays still for a few moments before falling against Hob’s chest. He clings tight to him, nuzzling his face into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hob squeezes him tight and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“You will come to resent me,” Dream mutters into his skin.

“Never. Just you wait and see. You’re the one whose gonna get tired of me.” Hob says with a chuckle. He feels a puff of air against his skin as Dream shifts, aligning their bodies even closer together.

“Impossible man.” Hob just smiles in response.

#dreamling #hob gadling #the sandman #dream of the endless #ky writes #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023

[dearsnow]

THOUGH I KNOW MY HEART WOULD BREAK

Part 1 || Part 2

- your best friend has come to collect you after your first true night out, and you can’t keep your feelings in any longer (patrick verona x gn!reader, angst that will be resolved ⚠️ strong themes of alcohol / being drunk and smoking, there will be a second part)

word count: 1,187

a/n - aaa my first patrick fic!! i’m definitely going to make a second part because i absolutely cannot leave this unresolved lol. lightly inspired by “francesca” by hozier :)

Partygoers whirl around you, blending flesh with flashing lights and the strong smell of alcohol. You laugh at the feeling of people brushing by your shoulder, the slight touches sending shivers through your skin. You’ve had way too much to drink, and you revel in the feeling.

God, you never knew how good being drunk felt. That’s the problem with never getting out- you won’t get to experience how light your feet are after a couple glasses. You hardly even notice the arm slung around your shoulder.

“There you are. God, you got me worried sick! I can’t leave you alone for one night, can I?” The man half-grins. You instantly recognize him. It would be hard not to, with his brown curls and gorgeous smile.

“Patrick! What are you doing here?” You slur, melting into his touch. Your best friend has come to rescue you. The thought, slippery and soft, sets butterflies loose in your stomach. Patrick Verona is at a party for you. And you love him more than your voice could ever say.

“Oh, you know, just to mingle.” You begin to nod before he cuts you off. “No, I’m here to take your ass home.” His expression turns sullen as a hint of worry lingers in his eyes. His eyebrows are pinched, and it takes your last drop of willpower to avoid reaching up to smooth them with your thumb.

You scrunch your nose. He’s yelling over the cacophony of noise in the background, but his voice is all you can focus on. “But I’m having fun for once in my miserable life.” You poke his chest. “You can’t take that away from me, not right now.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely going home. Your goody two-shoes butt will not appreciate waking up in a stranger’s house.” You frown. “Trust me.” He’s speaking a bit quicker than normal, but you’re so focused on how his eyes reflect the light that you barely notice. Nothing in the whole entire world is prettier than this moment. Not the mountains, or fresh dew, or that perfume bottle you saw in a thrift store once. He is beautiful.

You let out a sigh, slightly disappointed that you won’t be able to revel at the strobe lights for much longer. The mess of color around you was abstract art in your mind, a canvas splattered with paint. In any case, however, you will always follow Patrick. Even to the ends of the Earth.

“Ok…” You trail off as he leads you out of the stranger’s house. He’s been smoking again, as told by the lingering scent on his shirt. You’ve always hated his smoking. The smell, however, lights some sort of fire inside you. You just wish it didn’t hurt him.

When you get outside, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders. The night is cold, but the stars are out. They twinkle above your head, and your breaths form clouds in the air. The noise of the party is muted, and the sky is spinning, and Patrick is worriedly waving his hand in front of your face.

That’s really the last thing you remember before you’re walking through your front door. Your parents aren’t home, thank God. There is no chance they would be happy with this situation- you, drunk, and Padua’s most feared boy bringing you home.

“Careful,” He mutters as you stumble into your bedroom. How he got you in a car is a mystery, considering the fact everything in your line of sight is blurry. You could hold a book two inches from your face and not be able to see a word. You sit down on your mattress, patting the spot next to you. He sits, and you feel the familiar little jolt in your abdomen that you always feel when he’s close. You can hardly look him in the eye; not just because you’re drunk, though that is certainly a factor.

Your room is dark, and your floor is messy, and so is his hair. You suck in your breath. You want to say something, anything, and your mind can only come up with one idea.

You need to do this. You’ve been thinking it for so long, and he deserves to know. Something in your mind is telling you not to, but the liquid courage in your veins is telling you ‘yes, yes, a million times yes’. Even though it might break your heart, the words slip past your lips like a snake to hang in the heavy air.

“I love you.”

“What was that?” His eyebrows raise as he looks at you like you’re insane. That didn’t really come out of your mouth, did it?

“I love you, Patrick. Always have.” You smile, eyes slightly unfocused. “In a more than friends way.” He can smell the alcohol clinging to you, and he hates it.

He laughs, though the sound is laden with sorrow. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I really mean it.” You put your hand over his warm ones, and he doesn’t pull away.

He’s been waiting for this moment for the entire time you’ve known each other. He loves you so much it makes his heart ache. He knows the sound of your voice like his own, and he’s convinced your hands fit his like they were always meant to. Patrick fears that his head might explode until he realizes one sad little thing. It was too soon, too intoxicated, and too uncertain.

“Get some rest, girlie. I’ll find you in the morning.” He stands up, eyes burning. He needs a smoke, a drink, and a place to let himself feel the self-pity coursing through his veins. This means nothing, he tells himself. You make a pitiful sound, trying to follow him, but he can walk faster than you can stumble.

You’re so drunk you probably don’t even know what you’re saying to him. He can’t accept it, and he can’t reciprocate. If he did, he would be the biggest douche in the world. The kind of douche that preys on his drunk friend the minute they say something they would never mean while sober.

You grip onto his t-shirt, but he gently pries your hands off. You’re near tears now, and you wish he would just stay. Why can’t he, you wonder. You love him. You love him so much, so intensely it puts poetry to shame. You love his cologne, the way he speaks, his humor. You know him so well you could find him in any life, and your hands do fit his like gloves, and he can’t just leave you like this.

But he won’t let your drunk words ruin what you have. It’s too precious to be tossed out after one little slip-up. He’s not one to scare easily, but this moment is more terrifying that anything he has ever had to do in his entire life.

He needs to leave, and he needs to pray that he can get over this.

As he closes your bedroom door, separating you from the only boy you’ve ever truly loved, he mutters, “I hope you don’t remember this tomorrow.”

#solar eclipse. #patrick verona x reader #patrick verona #10 things i hate about you #10tihay #x reader #patrick verona imagines #heath ledger #fanfic #fanfiction