#the way he just starts swinging at the air im fucking sobbing hes so funny

[bastardbvby]

foolish raging and blasting im just ken is the best thing ive seen today

#the way he just starts swinging at the air im fucking sobbing hes so funny #my clips #foolish g

[nagito-kissmaeda]

omg...but imagine sex with nagito on the beach 👀

ミ☆ Consider it imagined ;) Word Count: 2419

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader, Explicit sexual content, a little angst but not heaps Read on AO3

“I think I want to kiss you.”

Komaeda stiffens beside you. The gentle rise and fall of his bare chest ceases entirely as he holds his breath. His hair has just started to dry again after your swim, the ends are beginning to curl but the majority of the strands still lack their usual volume. It makes him look smaller, more vulnerable.

You can’t help but wonder if it was genuine happenstance that you caught him in the ocean tonight, or if his luck had a hand in it. Thinking about his luck too much always stresses you out, would seeing him standing waist deep in the water - droplets running down his bare skin and glinting the perfect moonlight - be considered good luck or bad? Did he curse his talent in that moment, or did he see the adoration in your eyes, the way your breath caught at the sight of him, and praise it.

You hear Komaeda laugh, a familiar sound. Pleasant, but altogether fake, like a strawberry milkshake with too much syrup, “I will admit, that was quite a funny joke, if a little hurtful.” he looks at you from the corner of his eye, “Though i cannot rightly criticise you for making jokes at my expense, there is little else i am good for.”

It hurts that he thinks you would make such a cruel joke. It hurts that he doesn't have it in him to believe it.

The wind rushes by and you shiver. Even though you are mostly dry after your brief stint in the ocean, the cool air still makes your skin prickle. Komaeda’s jacket is spread out on the sand beneath the both of you, a gesture that is likely more intimate than he intended for it to be. You worry, frequently, that for all Komaeda’s posturing about talent and hope, that maybe you still don't fit the bill. That you may be worthy of his worship, but fall short of being worthy of his love.

“I wasn't joking.”

Komaeda chokes on what might have been a laugh before it died in the back of his throat. You can hear him shifting slightly, his hands clawing nervously at the jacket beneath him. Again you can't help but wonder, if this moment is good luck, or bad. The sound of your heart is so loud in your ears, and your hands are shaking so furiously that you are surprised the stars in the sky haven't all imploded. The moment feels big enough.

You hear a little more movement beside you, clenching your muscles in a bid to keep still, like even the slightest twitch from you will scare Komaeda away like some frightened animal. Ridiculous, Komaeda doesn't scare easily.

“I won’t stop you.” he whispers, you turn your head just enough to look at him. He’s rolled over onto his side, his slowly drying hair cascading down over his shoulder, pale eyes glinting in the moonlight. Your heart is hammering at your ribs.

You wet your lips with your tongue, and follow his lead, rolling onto your side and carefully examining his face. His eyelashes are really pretty, and they’re faint, but at this proximity you can see a small smattering of freckles across his nose. Like constellations on a cloudy night.

His lips taste like salt when yours press against them, chapped but soft and undeniably gentle. You shiver with more than just the cold when you dart your tongue out just a little, and he readily opens his mouth to accept it. He lets you explore the inside of his mouth, the sharp ridges of his teeth, the underside of his tongue; a moan cuts loose from your mouth and you tangle one of your hands in the back of his hair. One of his hands comes to rest on your cheek and you almost sob.

“I want to do more than kiss you.”

His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, and your eyes meet his. He blinks slowly down at you, contemplative but hungry, “Again, if that is truly what you want. I won't stop you.”

There's a heavy weight in your chest at those words, at his assertion that you could have your way with him, but not a single shred of genuine reciprocation. You are ashamed of how weak your voice sounds when you whisper, “Do you...actually want to? Or are you just letting me because I want to?”

Komaeda’s head cocks to the side, “I don't understand why the distinction matters.”

“I’m not just chasing some momentary desire, Komaeda.” you laugh bitterly, “I have feelings for you. Romantic ones.”

He stiffens for a moment, and you can see the cogs turning in his brain. There's an icy chill down your spine as you prepare for his rejection. He loves everything about you, but he doesn't love you.

Unannounced, Komaeda swings his leg over your hips and rolls you onto your back. Looming over you with a smile that actually reaches his eyes. You can count how many times you have seen that on one hand, but here he is, grinning down at you with an indescribable warmth that you feel from your chest all the way down to your toes.

“I was more than happy to be used for your pleasure.” He breathes, eyes turning misty as they meet yours, “To be able to touch you for just one moment, but this...this.” a breathless laugh escapes him, shaking his boney shoulders, “for you to return my feelings...the bad luck around the corner must be immeasurable, but im…” he heaves a shaky breath, “im so happy.”

His feelings. His feelings. The words vibrate around your head as you struggle to even comprehend them. He has feelings for you. Nagito Komaeda is leaning over you, pale hair lit up by the moon eclipsed by his head. Bathing him in a halo of white light. He looks angelic, and he has feelings for you.

“I want you.” You breathe, “Please, Nagito.”

His breath hitches at the sound of his first name dropping from your mouth. So unbelievably intimate, so tender. He tilts his head down, and slots his lips against yours. This time his hands waste little time before wandering across your skin, the bathing suit you picked up from the supermarket hides little, and you feel your flesh buzz as his hands pass over it. In the end, his palm sits comfortably in the curve of your waist and his other hand is planted beside your head to keep his balance. The salt in his mouth is slowly dissipating, giving way to a taste that must only be him. Your arms twist around his back, tracing the bumps of his protruding vertebrae, dancing across his fragile skin.

Your tongue slips into his mouth and you feel his hips twitch. With only the layers of your bathing suits to separate your skin, you can feel his growing hardness very prominently. You buck your hips upward to feel it again, and Komaeda instinctively bites down on your lower lip.

“Oh no. Did I hurt you?” He whispers, pulling back and brushing across your lower lip with his thumb, “I’m so sorry, though I shouldn’t be surprised that someone as worthless as myself would cause you pain.” You feel him start to move, “I should go-“

In a feat of strength that surprises even you, Komaeda is now pinned underneath you, arms pushed backwards onto the jacket atop the sand and wrists gripped tight in your shaking hands.

“Don’t go.” You press a hot kiss to the side of his throat, “You didn’t hurt me. I liked it.” You graze his neck with your teeth and he quakes below you, “I don’t want to stop unless you do.”

His breathing is shaky, his thin body quivering so much that you're almost surprised you can’t hear his bones rattling, “I don’t...I can’t stop. If you could read my perverse thoughts right now, you would be disgusted by what you would find.”

You laugh, releasing his arms and running your fingers down his chest, “Doubtful. I think if anything I’ll find that your thoughts mirror my own.”

Komaeda squeaks when you pull one of his nipples into your mouth, sucking gently, you run your knuckles up and down the side of his ribs. Smiling when you can hear his heart race, “Such a pretty boy.” You whisper, circling his nipple with your tongue. His hips stutter upward to meet yours, he seems to like it when you whine.

“I...I…” Komaeda’s throat bobs, “I’m not doing anything...I should be worshipping you, but I’m just lying here…”

“Shh, Nagito.” You breath, grinding your hips down on his, gentle enough that he can only just feel it, “I like doing this to you, I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long.”

“You...you’ve also been thinking about it?”

“Thinking, among other things.”

Komaeda barks a laugh, covering the lower half of his face with a hand, “Are you implying, that all those nights I fucked my pathetic hand thinking only of you, that you were-“

“Three cabins down, thinking about you?” You giggle, dragging your tongue up his collarbone, “That sounds about right.”

“I must be dreaming…” he whispers, looking past you and up at the sky, “it looks like the constellations are caught in your hair.” His shaky hand comes up and cups your cheek, “I don’t want to wake up.”

You smile, gently working his swim shorts down over his narrow hips, “Then don’t.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows, pretty face turning nervous as he is suddenly naked in the open air, though he isn't alone for long. He watches in awe as you toss your swimsuit off into the sand somewhere, eyes wide and watery as they trace the curves and angles of your body. His hips dig into your thighs when you position yourself on top of him, hands pressed gently on his chest, worried that his birdcage ribs might shatter if you put too much weight on them. You can feel his heart racing under your palms, fragile, perfect, beautiful boy. He is shaking under you, pale skin shining in the light of the moon. You lose your breath, completely enamoured with him, with his big green eyes, the mess of his hair, his collarbones so sharp that you swear you could cut yourself on them.

“I haven't done this before.”

Komaeda’s breathless silence is filled only with the ebb and flow of the ocean behind you, with the salt in the air and the stars in the sky. He sits up a little, arms shaking under his weight as he holds himself at eye level with you. He takes in a wheezy breath, one side of his mouth quirking up in a familiar nervous smile.

“You don't have to.” He whispers, “I...I’ll only disappoint you.”

It only takes a gentle push to his chest for him to fall backward onto the sand. Blinking up at you with wide eyes as you slowly start to lower yourself down onto him, “You could never disappoint me” you breathe, and then he is inside of you.

Just where he belongs.

The prettiest moan you have ever heard rips loose from his throat, his head tossed backward onto the sand and eyes scrunched shut. He is twitching inside of you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he isn't sure what to do with them. You lift yourself up just a little, and he almost sobs when you drop back down again. It feels good, you feel full. There's a twisting in your gut that tells you to just move, just move. You aren't sure how much longer you can resist it.

Komaeda is in a similar state. You are so warm, so tight, so perfect. He can feel his hips twitching with a desire to just give in, to pump himself as deep inside of you as possible. It’s pathetic, it’s selfish, but he wants you to be his. He wants to be so far inside that you can't pull him out again, he would do anything to be here forever. Completely naked, out in the open, in the middle of the night with you writhing on top of him. Your face twists in absolute pleasure, and he can't help lording over it. Over the fact that he is doing this to you.

Then, you moan again. Head lolling backwards as the guttural moan morphs into the syllables of his name.

He can’t hold back anymore. His hands snap up to your hips, digging in tight enough that your eyes open in shock, and he pushes his hips as far up as they will go. You call out his name again and it is all he can hear, hips snapping up again and again, dragging more perfect noises from your mouth and letting out moans of his own everytime he hears you say his name.

Your eyes drift down to his, letting out a sweet little whimper as he hits a spot inside of you that sets your insides boiling. Your nails dig tight into the taught flesh pulled across his ribs, turning his pale skin a bright red, your own hips meeting his every thrust with a desire to have him deeper, to have him faster. He throws his head back in a breathless laugh that almost sounds like a sob when he feels you clench around him, you’re perfect, you’re real and you’re so fucking tight.

You don't even have time to warn him before you topple over the edge, the world flashes white behind your eyes as your walls twitch around Komaeda’s desperate cock. He lets out a rattling breath, so close, so close, so close-

“Nagito” You breathe, “cum inside of me, please.”

He feels like he is going to explode, in more ways than one when he shoves himself up into you one last time, finally cumming with a high-strung moan that sounds suspiciously like a declaration of love.

Then, all is quiet again. The ocean breeze is your only company as the two of you come back down. At some point the jacket slipped out from under Komaeda, and now his messy hair is tangled with sand. You reach down and try to comb some of it out with your fingers, he nuzzles into your palm. Content.

You smile down at him.

“I love you too.”

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #/request #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa

[dylansslutt]

danger R.C

rafe and you get caught up on the boat. shit goes south

WARNINGS: cursing, abuse, mentions of dark shit, rafe

you all had a mission, now while jj and kie went to lock the door on the boat. you went to find sarah with your brother. you followed john b through the hall.

“where would she be?” you ask john. “ i dont know, uh- go down there! ill check up here. be careful!”

“Dont Die, bird.” You glare at him.

“You either, raven.” He used your nickname as well.

you walk off, trying to be alert as possible. you are on a fucking boat in the middle of nowhere with people who will kill you. you go to walk forward when you halt.

noise came from around the corner, “oh i hear you pogue.” rafe’s voiced called out. you freeze, you go to move back but slam into something.

fuck, the loudest noise you can make possible. yes lets scream ‘im right here!’

you go to run forward, but rafe steps out in front of you.

“y’n? that’s funny.” he lurches forward grabbing you. you push back, almost slipping on your ass.

“i don’t have time for your crazy ass.” you elbow him in the ribs. your mission was already made.

rafe punches you in the face, your head jerks back. oh he stuck the shit out of you. You felt dazed as hell.

you whimper as he grabbed your shoulders. “you should not have came here, y/n”

“Not like I really had a choice.”

your hands fumbled with your pocket knife; you somehow managed to bring with you. You secretly slip it out.

you slice at his arm, stumbling backwards. Rafe hisses grabbing the small cut.

“stay the fuck back!” you hold out the knife, trying to seem threatening.

rafe laughs, a dark look on his face.

“you dont see do you? i did this! i got the gold, i-i got the-the cross. me!” rafe ranted, you wince. rafe can fucking swing. Your head was pounding.

“you didn’t get shit! you stole it, along with your murderous father!” you scream, you grab a random tool beside you throwing it at rafe.

Rafe dodges the object as you run away. Him hot on your tail.

you manage to get to the side of the hall, leading out towards the edge of the boat.

“you can’t get away that easily, fucking pogue.” rafe grabs me from behind.

He holds you close to his chest, “I was nice to you. You caused this.” He grabs me by the back of the head.

“no! st-” he throws me against the railing. my head bouncing off the side. jesus imma have a fucking concussion.

You roll over onto your hands and knees. Your head spinning, you try to grab the railing.

“where’s the rest of your dirty little group?” He squats down to your level.

“wouldn’t you like to know.” you spit the blood in your mouth at his face.

He wipes it off, glaring at you. He pulls you up harshly.

you dont have the knife. It dropped when he threw you. you frantically search the ground. Everything is doubling, you couldn’t see straight.

Behind him, it laid a few feet away. You try to keep the sob in but a few whimpers escape.

“I’m not here for you!” You cry out. “Let me the fuck go.”

“I know what you are here for. You are a thief! Trying to steal what is mine.” He slams you against the wall.

“I have to do what I have to do.” He stares down at you. Like a switch flipped. You stare at him in fear.

“Rafe.” You try to push away.

“no, hel-” he grabs you by the throat. you knee him in the balls, allowing you to drop to the ground. you reach for the knife but rafe pulls your leg.

you kick him in the face grabbing the knife. “back the fuck away!” you scream, tears running down your face.

rafe wipes the blood from his nose. you shake, where is everyone?

“you wont stop me y/n. i will do this. i am stepping up!” he raises his voice.

“i am the man now.” he points at me. he walks forward as i back up. his hands move for the knife.

you swing it forward but rafe grabs your wrist. he throws the knife overboard.

“so what? you gonna be your old man? you gonna kill me rafe?” you push at him. He was just like his father.

you were sobbing at this point, “do it! do it, fucking kill me. right? like your dad killed my dad. god you fucking monster.” you pound at his chest.

rafe stares down at you, his expression faltering. He stops for a split second, silence.

“guys hurry!” you hear voices from the deck. Fuck no. rafe can not get to them.

you shove rafe against the railing. your hands trying to push him over somehow. You struggle against his strength.

rafe grabs you by the throat. cutting your air off. “i didnt want to do this, y/n. look at what you made me do.”

His eyes stared into yours as you couldn’t breathe. Rafe was mad, he just squeezed. You clawed, kicked. Nothing was stopping him.

He really was going to kill you.

your legs folded, rafe finally letting you go. he rushes off to the others as you lay on the ground heaving.

you struggle to push yourself up. Your throat sore, struggling to maintain a breathing pattern.

finally after catching your breathe you run to the other side of the boat, seeing jj and kie struggle with a man with a machete.

“kie duck!” your hoarse voice yelled out, as you forward knocking the guy back. You step across helping jj to his feet.

His eyes on your face.

“Watch out!” Kie yells. The guy hit jj in the back of the head, his body falling into yours. You both topple over the side of the boat.

The waves pushed you around, before you were finally able to surface. JJ was a few inches away face down. Fear hit you like a truck, you swam forward pulling jj onto his back.

“JJ! Y/N” A voice yelled before a splash hit the water. Kie surfacing. She swam towards you as you held him up.

“Kie! He won-“ you spit water out. “He won’t wake up”

Kie helped grab the other side of him, struggling to keep us and him above surface.

“Please wake up.” You sob. If he doesn’t wake up we are all gonna drown.

“We are gonna make it. We won’t die.” Kie struggled out. You hope she was right.

“Help! John B!” Kie yelled out. You struggle to maintain my head over the water. With your last effort to keep him afloat along with you.

“I’m sorry.” Kie sobs making eye contact with you. You know you both were about give out. The waves are strong, and you both can’t keep jj afloat much longer.

“I’m so sorry, I-“ the wave pushed you under. You stared up at the sky. Water floating around you. It was silent for once.

Was this how my dad felt? Being pushed over board. Being hit in the head, maybe rafe didn’t do it himself. But this get like déjà vu. Everything starts to fade.

Next thing you know, your body is being pulled out the water.

“Y/n!” You felt your body shake.

“Please.”

You jolt up, throwing up sea water. You felt awful, your head was pounding. The sun was bright, and you’ve swallowed a gallon of sea water.

“You okay?” Your brothers face comes into view. Your vision felt doubled but you were alive.

You pull him into a hug, sobbing into his shirt. “Oh my god.”

You glance over seeing jj still unconscious. You threw yourself away from your brother.

“JJ!” You shake him. “Why isn’t he waking up?”

You stare at Kie who was in the same state as you. “JJ please, please don’t leave me.” You sob against his chance.

“Not yet.” Your voice breaks.

jj comes to, water spurting out his mouth. You let your hand rest on his shoulder. His eyes following up towards yours.

“Hey.” He says.

You laugh, shoving his face softly. “I was so scared.” You hug him softly.

You lean back as Kie rushes forward to hug him as well.

I glance around at everyone. “I am so glad y’all are ali- wait. Who’s this?” Your eyes land on a new girl.

“This is Cleo, the one who helped us in the Bahamas.” Sarah spoke up.

You nod. “Welcome to the family, Cleo.” You smile at her.

You sit back, as y’all make way to the island closest to you. You almost died, not once but twice. Tears slipped out but you quickly wiped them.

You were just grateful everyone was alive.

#jj maybank obx #obx rafe #obx jj #jj obx #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outerbanks smut

[stupid-stew]

i took notes on the art stream dana did tonight in my own way, yes this is also what my school notes look like so my formal apologies

dana didn’t have many friends or anything in college (self defined recluse)

king is the hardest character to draw due to his specific skull shape

dana loves pokemon and the king resemblance is a coincidence, and she drew everyone to be RIPPED

XENA THE WARRIOR PRINCESS WITH THE ABS LMAOOOO

young entrepreneur out here art queen getting that bag WHY WAS SHE MAKING SHIP ART OF HER CLASSMATES FOR MONEY AT THE AGE OF LIKE 11 IM SOBBING

king ruined the sand castle :(

the mcdonald’s coffe, it sucks apparently

insomnia dana supremacy, felt that

DANA WINS ROUND 1 (against her will)

side note i think i need to start watching more anime, that’s just for me the remember tho

“let’s get weird”- dana terrace 2021

“give us the most uncomfortable furby suggestions please”- also dana terrace 2021

FANFICTION JOURNALS CAN WE GET THOSE PUBLISHED

hard time communicating outside of drawings (one of us 👹)

toh is script driven, sicknasty

her test was turned away SPILL THE TEA

dana proposes to furby suggestion giving chat member

8months struggling for job

turned away from power puff girls boooo

“i called up a friend and we had a drink and i cried :(“ -dana

FURBY WITH HUMAN ANATOMY

YES YES YES MITCHELLS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

the director had to fight to make the furby scene happen and sir we appreciate it

“androgyny is beautiful”- dana, about a furby

yes girl let jesus take the wheel on that anatomically correct furby

WHY WAS SHE TRYIKG TO TEACH HER FURBY DO CURSE THATS SO FUNNY

“fuck you! fuck you!”- not dana’s furby

$80,000 in debt for this

“shit shit fuck shit”

“as good friends, as disney would say”

dana trying not to lose her job

“AH GOD NO THE FEET THE FEET”

straight black coffee you psycho

DANA LOOSES TO THE CURSED FURBY

HAHAHA TINY NOSE IN THE SIGIL

cannot cook, girlboss, win dana with food

CATBOY SHREK

catchphrase? “AAAAAAAHHH”

scared of spiders

do not wake the cat

“is that a pile of garbage or is that ur self esteem after i fucking demolish you”

-dana terrace 2021

the iconic “byeeeee” was difficult

why can’t she draw shrek

“i need validation please jesus christ”

-dana terrace 2021

someone buy this woman the cat gamer headphones alex hurry up

she does not like the booth but she does it for us thank you queen

dana fainted getting a stick n poke rip

AWWW SHE GOT STEVE BLOOM THATS SO CUTE FOR HER

SHE DISLIKES FANTASY???? BOI WHAT THE HELL BOI

at least she’s having a good time making her own gross little fantasy land, improvise adapt overcome

dana unlocks the idea of things being done in different ways and have them all be good for the masses

“limitation breeds invention”

“wow ur really wise dana”

“….thanks dawg”

“well i didn’t have friends… no one laughed.”

i want the little comics of her pets

cat person dana

DANA WINS CATBOY SHREK

awww little stick and poke on her ankle

does not celebrate her birthday

OOOH THE HAMMERHEAD IS HER FIRST ONE I LOVE THAT ONE

#mood bunny

KERMIT ON STEROIDS

“how can we make this weird” GIRL IT IS KERMIT ON S T E R O I D S

HER LITTLE LAUGH IM SOBBING

this is literally psychological warfare

dana has not watched the muppets but she knows him drinking the tea so winning

DANA THE ANGST QUEEN LMAO

she’s proud about her making dipper and mable fight

DANA ANIMATED FOR NEXT WEEK MARK UR FREAKING CALENDARS

hooty is the owl house canon?

i wish the owl house was like a creature that would have been so funny

CAT APPEARS

season 2 is outline heavy when it comes to the writing

dana knows what she wants for season 2 and we love that

execs up the wall on season 1

DANA LOSES MUSCLE KERMIT

dana has not found the character porn! keep it up girl! stay over there!

oooh bike queen

SWING DANCE OH MY GOD

TAP DANCING

THIS WOMAN IS AN ICON I LOVE HERRRR

yes get that energy out girl

ddr stan, loses to matt braly at gravity falls team bowling hang out

cat is sad :( give her a snack :(

AWW GHOST HAS ASTHMA omg kinnie moment

conspiracy theory enthusiast when intoxicated

vaccination queen

does not believe in ghosts, kill me girl i’ll haunt you don’t worry i’ll prove it

DOG WORKING IN A CAFE

“the ow house get ready to get some boo boo”- this other guy because it made me cry

“you’re gonna have to pay me to write shit because i don’t work for free”

not a music person

DO A FLIP

dana do a flip for charity please i’ll donate like an organ or something

she can canonically do a flip and she’s not gonna show us this is homophobic

AH FUCK MY STREAM CUT OUT

her neighbor is parking yes get it

draw left hand

while holding pen wack

do it in online version of ms paint

“MS pain”- dana not finishing her word

and stick and poke

show us the work stuff dana >:(

an ARTIST

“he’s a strong independent dog”

“4 minutes 20 seconds 😏 h e h e h e”

WHY CANT WE SEE HER HEADBANG THIS IS SO RUDE

not the muscle pulling girl not now

“also dog”

CHAMPION DANA

IMAGINE DANA CALLING UR ART CUTE

H E L P THE FURBYS I CSNOT

ghost gets rejected

“he’s not impressed with ur bullshit”

catra shrek fan girl moment

dana has probably done drugs

“i am a fan of waluigi”

AN ITALIAN POLITICIAN SMACK TALKING THE OWL HOUSE LMAOSJB

note to self dana will only marry you if you look like kermit the frog

also dog comes from a land where dogs eat people at starbucks

LOWES AD

“he’s making out with it! he’s using tongue!”

there are bouncers in cafes where also dog comes from

dana has worked the cash register

someone make real witch merchandise

Q AND A YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

hooty is he has a very he has more he has a backstory it exists it’s written out but we might not ever get it because it’s just for her dana please i am on my knees

would play dnd if she could

favorite episodes haven’t even aired but currently is echoes of the past or keeping up a fear ances because they’re personal especially a fear ances

TOO LATE FOR EXTENDED SEASON THREE BOARDING HAS STARTED IM GOING TO CRY

SPIN-OFFS SHORTS AND COMICS STILL ALLOWED IM LITERALLY DEAD ON THE INSIDE

mentally she is thriving with the show and it’s going to end well 🙏

“it’s just my voice :(“

BYEEEEEEE

#the owl house #dana terrace

[oppabimbab]

BTS REACTIONS TO PREGNANCY NEWS

summary: a short drabble about the reactions from each bts members to pregnancy news

side note: it might look cringey but im a sucker for this type of fluff so here we go. this is so quick, sorry for any errors xx

**

Jin

He freezes on his feet as soon as you handed the pregnancy test kit to him. There is a short silence between you and him when he couldn’t believe his eyes—looking at the double line. Slowly, he brings his soft gaze at your flushed face, thanks to the earlier crying session you had few moments ago.

“Are you serious?” his bright eyes got wider—shifting his gaze back to you and the pregnancy kit over and over again. You crack a soft smile and nod slowly at your husband.

“I’m pregnant,” tears prick on your eyes before it’s slowly staining your cheeks. Sharing this moment with this man whom you love the most is making your heart ache in happiness.

“Oh my god, baby,” he drops the suitcase that he has been carrying on the ground before pulling your figure inside his warm embrace. He always hugs you tight but this time, it feels tighter than usual. You can’t help but cry out of happiness on his chest by pulling him closer.

“Am I seriously going to be a dad?,” He says in disbelief as he kisses your head over and over again—caressing your spine with his warm touch. You chuckle and nod your head. The earlier tired eyes and exhausted body that plastered all over him is replaced with nothing but joy. Jin is always a tease and crackhead but seeing him this way brings you another kind of feeling.

“This is why you have been feeling weird these past few days. Those mood swings and stuff, is it because of our baby?” he chuckles brightly like those tiring days don’t do shit on him. You hum on his chest and nod.

“Probably. I’m not acting up for no reason, okay,” you protest as you bury your face deeper in his embrace while inhaling your favourite scent. Silence fills the space as both of you are enjoying the moment.

“This is why I love you,” he leans closer to your ear and whispers. Immediately, a smile creeps into your flushed face as the familiar butterfly starts to crawl in your stomach. That words never sounded awful or plain.

“But that means, pull out game weak but worth it, isn’t it?” he pulls away from you, just to peck on your lips with his hands cupping your face—gazing straight into your puffy eyes.

“Baby!” you squeal. He grins before carrying you to the room.

***

Yoongi

“Baby? What’s wrong?” he squeaks as soon as he notices you are standing at his studio room’s door with tears in your eyes.

Before he could say anything, you come closer to him and sit on his lap—wrapping your arms around his neck, leaving him completely confused. Yoongi rubs your hips while cocking his head at you, trying to understand your sudden mood swings.

“Baby,” your voice cracks as you burst into silent tears. You can feel his body stiff at your sudden sob when he tries to push you so he can see your face.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Yoongi whispers with his sweet raspy voice while rubbing the back of your head slowly. Taking off his headphone, his attention is now on you. You inhale his sweet scent. You know, he must be confused as fuck when you jump on him and cry like a weak bitch while he is in the middle of composing songs.

“We are having a baby,” you sniff before pulling away from him slowly. The next second, he stares at you with frown plasters all over his face, still trying to process what just came out from your mouth.

You chuckle and sob at his puppy eyes as you leans closer and crash his mouth with yours.

“I’m pregnant. Your child, it’s here,” you whisper as soon as you pull from the kiss—bringing his hand to your flat stomach. Yoongi gasps before a soft smile starts to plaster across his lips. His eyes disappear as the smile got wider, showing off his cute gummy smile.

“Baby, it’s not funny. No way,” he inhales some air, looking at you like you just said something beyond the world could’ve imagined. You nod while chanting ‘Yes’ over and over again with tears streaming down your cheeks. His eyes—you stare at his eyes without blinking as he stares at yours.

He freezes on his seat without saying anything. There is a short silence between you and him and It’s making your smile to fade slightly before he stands up from the chair—wrapping your legs around his waist as he spins you around while giggling like an excited kid.

“I’m going to be a dad!” he squeals— a very rare side of him that only you can see

You scream while burying your face on his shoulder.

The room is filled with nothing but your laughter and his happy squeals. A happiness.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you, baby. You don’t understand,” he places you on his table—tucking the hair strand behind your ears before crashing your mouth with his into the deepest kiss you ever had.

***

Hoseok

“Did you prepare all of these, for me?” he asks with a widen eyes while pointing at the decorations all over the room as he slowly makes his way closer. You nod before you pull him to the candle light dinner you have been setting up for 5 hours while he was away at work. Honestly, you are suck at doing surprise but for him, you try to make it as beautiful as it can be since It’s his birthday and Hoseok had been working for non stop.

A small smile appears on his lips as he looks around at the minimal decorations that you did, along with his favourite food on the table—making him giggle like a little boy. One thing about him, Hoseok becomes all giddy whenever he is happy and the fact that you can see it in his eyes, your heart blooms in happiness. No words can describe how this man makes you happy just by a little gestures.

Then, his eyes meet yours.

“Thank you. I love it,” he whispers before taking your hand and caresses it softly. Your eyes immediately become teary as you come closer to him—taking his face into your hands without both of you breaking the eye contact. He smiles down at you—placing his hand on the back of your hand, not letting you to stop.

“Happy birthday, love,” you whisper at him as you take out the gift box from your pocket and hand it to him. He frowns at you before shifting his eyes at the gift.

“Already? I thought we are eating first,” he giggles before taking it from you. A huge grin plasters on his face even it’s just a plain and basic gift box. This man is lovely.

“Open it,” you say. Hoseok chuckles as he slowly unwraps the box like he has no idea. Well, he really has no idea. Just like you’d imagined, the small and giggle immediately vanish from him as he stares at the small baby stoking with a little fonts on it.

Happy birthday, papa

Hoseok immediately looks up at you, just to find you’re hiding a smile. He smiles, a thousand more brighter.

“Am I dreaming? Am I thinking just like you are thinking now? You’re not joking with me, right?” taking the cute stoking in his hand, he reads the words again and again like a confused boy before you come closer and kiss him.

“Yes. Our baby is wishing you a happy birthday. Happy birthday, papa,” you look at him softly before the room is filled with his loud squeals. Just like that, he jumps on his feet, squealing like a happy man while holding on the small stoking, deep in his hand. You can’t help but laughing and squealing along with your man. He is a such a ball of joy when he is happy.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he repeats the words over and over again while planting millions kisses on your face—making you fill the house with your soft squeals.

“I’m becoming a daddy!!! God, I’m so happy. This is the best gift ever, baby,” he laughs, pulling you tight into his wide and deep hug—completely forgot that today is supposed to be his day.

“Hoseok, I made your favourite food. Don’t tell me you’re going to ditch it because you’re too happy now,” you mumble. He chuckles.

“That can wait. I have something tastier in mind now,” he whispers before lifting you up as he makes his way to the bed room.

**

Namjoon

Namjoon looks at you with a frowned face as you stand there at the front door like a static figure, just after you’ve got back from work. He finishes the remaining water in his mug before wiping off the residue on his lips as he stares at your pale face while raising an eyebrow.

“Hi? Are you home already?” his raspy voice echoed through the kitchen as he refills the mug with juice again—for you. The aroma of chicken stew fills through the space, the sweaty hair strands are all over his forehead as he set the table just like he always does whenever he comes home earlier than you do.

“Come here. I made your favourite food today,” he grins widely—making the adorable dimple appears on his cheeks.

It always feels nice to come home just to see your man, at the kitchen—cooking, singing and welcoming you with nothing but his presence.

You would run giddily to him, to get kisses and hugs but this time, your feet feel like they’re freezing on the ground when you see him. It feels different this time. Especially, when you just came back from the hospital just to acknowledge that you’re 3 weeks pregnant. You didn’t know those crazy headache and mood swings were caused by this.

“Hey....Is everything okay?” when there is nothing coming out from you, he speaks again with a concern voice as he put down the apron to get you at the door. Before he could take any steps, you immediately run and jump on him by wrapping both your arms and legs around his body. Namjoon gasps as he supports you by placing his arms on your hips. He smells like sweat and cologne but you don’t care because the first thing in your mind is to let him know this beautiful news.

“Baby girl...What’s with this mood?” he chuckles as he rubs the back of your head, trying to figure what is happening. You hum on the crook of his neck before wiggling to make him put you down. So he does.

You find his eyes—looking down at yours to find the answers.

“I’m pregnant,” you speak with a huge grin and so much enthusiasm. He still look confused.

“You what?” his eyes got widen, tucking your hair behind the ear so he can look at you even better.

“Namjoon, I’m pregnant!! You’re a daddy now,” you squeal excitedly—softly jumping on your feet as you smile at him like your life depends on him.

His jaw drops—staring blankly into your eyes like he didn’t expect the words would come out from your mouth, this soon. Silence fills the space as he still takes his time to process this new information before you can see his eyes turn into sparkling pearls.

“Babe, are you crying?” you whisper—trying to hold your own tears when you see his face is flushed in red and tears are slowly staining his cheeks. Namjoon never cries easily but when you witness that today, you heart breaks in joy. He looks happy and pure.

“I can’t believe this. I really can’t,” he covers his face with his hands and you can hear a small sob from him—making you cry along with him. One time, you chuckle at his cute pout. One time, you sob with him as he hugs you tightly.

“Is this for real? Are you really pregnant with our baby?” he sniff while trying to wipe the tears off. You nod eagerly.

“Babe, don’t cry,”

“No, no. I’m just so happy for you. For us,” he sobs again.

Wiping off his tears and taking off the apron, he lifts you up and spins you around—making you squeal while holding on to his shoulders. He giggles like a small boy, pecking your lips over and over again.

“I’m a daddy!! Finally!!” he screams excitedly, spinning you around—completely forgot about his burning chicken stew.

“Namjoon!!” you scream softly, he chuckles in tiny sob.

“I can’t wait for this little bub to join us like this, baby. Thank you so much, I love you,” he whispers, bringing his sweet dimple smile along with his teary eyes.

***

Jimin

“Does it happen again?” he pouts as he comes closer to get you, who just came out from the bathroom. It’s the 4th times now where you couldn’t stop puking for no reason, especially in the morning.

You nod silently at him.

Both of you are clueless why is this happening to your body. You can feel you’re getting weaker every day, it feels exhausting and uncomfortable. But, today, you finally understand the reason why. It had never crossed your mind but for sure, you are in the cloud nine.

Jimin rubs your back to ease the nausea before he takes your face in his hand. You’re not sure how long has he been sleeping but he indeed looks tired and sleepy. You feel so bad for waking him up early in the morning with your endless morning sickness.

The best part—he is always stay awake just to make sure you’re alright even he is tired to death. Your man, what did you do to deserve him this much?

“Stay right here, okay? I’m making you a drink,” he pecks your nose before making you sit as he makes his way to the kitchen to get you a drink. But, you stop him right away. He looks at you with a sleepy eyes.

“Jimin, I-“ before you could say anything, a sudden nauseous starts to attack your system—making you almost vomit on his clothes. Jimin looks panicked as you immediately rush to the bathroom to get everything out from your chest.

Tears prick on your eyes when the pain in your throat and chest is throbbing hard.

“There, there. Slowly, baby,” Jimin kneels beside you before he slowly strokes your back and pulling your hair up to give a little comfort to you. There is a pain in his voice, seeing you like this.

His existence feels like a medicine. He immediately makes you feel better.

You puke one more time before looking up at him with a weak smile. A soft chuckle leaves your mouth, making him frown.

“Babe,” you call him. He hums, still rubbing your back while tucking the sweaty hair strands on your forehead.

“I think your dream finally comes true,” you whisper softly, almost getting weaker at the endless vomiting. A confusion plasters all over His puppy eyes, making you chuckle even louder as you take the pregnancy kit from your side.

Jimin’s hand on your back freezes when he finally notices the double line on that little kit. Of course,he is confused since you had never let him know about how the pregnancy kit works since this is your first time trying the luck. Slowly, his face changes into a soft grin. He takes it from your hand and stares at the line for few moments.

“Does the double line mean you’re........pregnant?” he squeaks in tiny voice as he keeps staring at it while smiling so wide. The next second, he looks up to find your eyes. The best thing is his smile never leaves his lips. It’s always there, like those tired and sleepy eyes were never here. His eyes got brighter, like a star in the night sky. There is love in those pair of pearls.

“I think that so,” you giggle weakily since the nauseous feeling still creeps in your system and you don’t want to ruin this moment with your man.

“Oh baby,” he inhales deeply, gripping the kit tightly in his hand as he nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck. His fluffy hair touches your face slightly—making you bring your hand to rub it softly. You chuckle out loud at his sudden gesture.

“Jimin, what are you doing?”

“I can’t believe you’re a mommy now,” he mumbles while playing with the pregancy kit like he wants to frame it on the wall.

“You’re my baby,” he adds before peeking at you as he kisses your jaw softly. A breathy giggle leaves your mouth as you can’t help at him being such a clingy husband. You’re not sure if you already have a baby.

“I’m still your baby, though,” you rub his cheeks.

“Not anymore. Because I have this little buddy here,” he teases before rubbing your flat stomach—making you squeal in protest. You still want to be his number 1 baby, forever.

**

Taehyung

You hold onto the sink as you look at your swollen eyes on the mirror. The tears keep falling down from your eyes even you have tried to keep it down since Taehyung is sleeping soundly. You look like a hot mess now but that’s the last thing you would ever want to think about because everything around you feels like it is on the cloud nine now.

Your face is flushed in soft red along with a tiny grin that never leaves your face as soon as you realise you and him are about to begin a new phase of life. The double line—you didn’t know it would make you this happy just because of the double line.

Wiping off the remaining tears, slowly, you come out from the bathroom to find your way to your man, who is sleeping on the bed. Without making any obvious sound, you crawl closer to him—kissing his temple while whispering his name.

“Taehyung, wake up,” you say. It takes you only 2 kisses for him to wake up, half sober. He groans slightly with eyes closed before he opens his eyes to find yours—staring at him with so much hopes. A boxy smile appears when he finds you to be here—like you always do.

“Give me 5 more minutes baby,” he mumbles in raspy voice as he comes closer to you—burying his face on your stomach before he got back to sleep.

“Taehyung, I have something to tell you,” you sniff as the tears start to pool in your eyes again. Your heart is so full with joy that it makes you cry like a baby. When he notices your voice breaks slightly, Taehyung immediately looks up at you above him with a sleepy eyes before he brings his hands to your face.

“What happen? Hm?” he asks, half awake. You smile at his husky and sleepy voice. How can a grown man look like a complete baby in the morning?

“I’m carrying a baby in here,” you take his hand and trail it to your stomach—waiting for his response even for sure, you know his mind literally isn’t here yet. He frowns, trying to understand what you just said.

“A baby? What is that?” he asks and just like that, you burst into a deep laughter even your eyes are swollen with happy tears. The laughter keeps filling the room until Taehyung gasps—just realised something.

“A baby? You’re pregnant?!” his voice reaches few octaves as he re-positioned himself to look at you better and clearer. You nod happily, making the salty water keeps staining your cheeks like no tomorrow. You didn’t know you would be carrying his baby this early and the fact that you love him so much—making the existence of this small baby in your stomach feels like a whole world is in your hands.

That boxy smile, appears again but much more wider. He squeals so excitedly that his messy hair bounce along with him. You laugh at his cute gesture.

“No way. Are you serious? Wait, is today April Fools?? No way. You’re not joking right? Tell me,” so many questions come out from him as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you on his lap. You scream softly at the sudden contact.

“This is seriously not a joke. We are really having our first baby!!!” you wiggle on his lap—rubbing your thumbs on his chubby cheeks as he screams happily. Taehyung continuously pecks your teary eyes, your tiny nose and finally, your lips. You could feel his smile when both of you kiss for a moment. He is really happy. Genuine happy.

“Is it a boy? Or girl? What should we name them?”

“I don’t know that yet. Oh my gosh, babe. Calm down,” you smack his shoulders. He grins, pulling you closer to his chest.

“You make me so happy. I love you so much, mommy,” he mumbles before pecking your face, making you giggle like a highschool girl. Taehyung becomes a complete child whenever he is happy. It makes you feel nothing but happiness. He is your happiness and be able to give the same in return, feels more than great.

“I love you too, daddy,” you reply. He grins naughtily.

“So, I’ve got 2 people calling me that, huh?” he says before you feel his hands creep inside your pajamas. Your eyes got widen.

“Hey, Taehyung!!”

“Let me give you a reward, baby girl,” he whispers—kissing you again.

**

Jungkook

You lean against the wall while staring at your boyfriend, who has been playing with his video game since few minutes ago. He looks so focused that he didn’t noticed you have been there for almost 10 minutes. Slowly, you come to him.

“Hi,” he whispers at you with a small bunny smile creeps on his face before taking his attention back to the screen. You sniff slightly before crawling under his arms just to put yourself on his lap before you bury your face on his collarbone. He didn’t say anything about that since you always do that whenever you want his attention. he knows that.

“Come closer,” his honey voice echoes in the living room before you could feel his hand is on your hips to pull you closer. Then, silence. His hot breath touch your neck as he just keeps playing like he always does. Sometimes, you hum like a baby and he would tug you closer.

“Baby, do you remember that you said you wanted a baby?” suddenly, you speak out—breaking the silence. He hums while nodding without breaking his attention from the game.

“Yes, I do,”

“Do you still want it?” as you pull away from him, you look down to his face—savouring his handsome feature to your eyes. How can this gorgeous man, is your man?

He curls his lips and nod eagerly then he laughs quietly.

“What’s with the question, hm? Are you giving me a baby?” he tries to hide his smile as he finds your needy eyes. There is a hope in his voice but you know, he is joking. He has no idea of whatever news he will be getting in just a moment.

You scrunch your nose—nuzzling your face on his neck to inhale his vanilla scent.

“Yeah,” you squeak softly. He didn’t respond right away as if he tries to understand the meaning behind it. It’s all silence until you feel his gaze is all on you.

“Yeah? What do you mean yeah?” Jungkook lifts your chin to look up at him and he finds you smiling with a flushed face. His face changes immediately when you say nothing but smiling.

“I think you know what i’m talking about,”

Immediately, he pauses the game—taking off the headphone from his head just to re-position you on his lap. You’re not sure what happen to the game because he didn’t seem to care about it anymore when his eyes are all on you.

“Say that again,” his voice sounds like a lullaby.

“I’m giving you a baby,” you whisper. Just in a blink of eyes, you see the obvious changes on his face. His doe eyes got brighter than usual—the bunny smile starts to fill his entire face.

“Is there a baby in your belly? Really?” he says in a tiny voice.

you chuckle at his words. Why does he sound like a little boy who just found out that his mom is pregnant again? Both of you are inexperienced but looking at how eager he is, to have a baby, you know he is going to be a great dad. Jungkook loves children so much. Nothing feels nicer than to give him the happiness he had wanted.

You meet his eyes again and there are sparkles in them as he looks at you with so much adoration.

“You actually make my wish comes true. What do I do to deserve you, baby?” he wipes off the tiny tears that start to prick in his eyes using the hem of the sleeves—trying so hard to not letting out any ugly sob. He is such an emotional bitch sometimes. You giggle.

“Oh my gosh, babe. Don’t cry. You’re not a baby!!” you squeal at him, pulling him to your small hug. He chuckles while sniffing before he buries himself closer to you—making you straddling on his lap.

“Can we call the baby, Little Jungkook?” he mumbles while he rubs your hair.

“No way. What if it’s a girl?”

“Nooooo. Pretty please? Little Jungkook sounds so adorable,” you can feel he is pouting like he always does whenever he gets clingy. You smack his chest jokingly

“Babe.....” suddenly, he breaks the hug and look at you with a widen eyes.

“Hmm?” you hum with so much confusion.

“I can feel the baby kick in your belly. Little Jungkook is already being aggressive to his mommy,” he hides a smile.

“Jungkook!! I’m just 2 weeks pregnant!!,” you chuckle before attacking his stomach with your fingers. The space is filled with nothing but his happy laughter and your giddy squeals.

**

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#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfics #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #kpop imagines #bts imagines #taehyung #jimin #namjoon #jungkook #suga #yoongi #hoseok #j-hope #bts #kpop #seokjin

[rogersbabyyy]

enemies with benefits, part 2 | roger taylor

summary: Your ‘arrangement’ with Roger (that was born from an unexpected fuck at Freddie’s party) has been working out just fine. But as the insults start to fade, the kisses becoming increasingly tender, you find that you like the man a whole lot more than you’d like to admit.

word count: 4.4k+

warnings/tags: smut (unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it) A LOT OF ANGST, fluff!!!!!, foul language

a/n- THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT! enemies part 2 is here! i hope it lives up to your expectations ahhhhHHH im sister scared. i finished writing this listening to elvis ballads and jeff buckley and i feel all lovie and my uwus are ready to be snatched. i’m not entirely happy with this, but then again i never am with anything. i also welcome feedback with open arms so please don’t be afraid to tell me what you think xox

read part 1 here if you haven’t already!

Two months later.

“Y/N,” Roger’s voice and a gentle nudge on your bare shoulder awoke you from your slumber. “Y/N.”

You shifted slightly in bed, subconsciously tugging at the silk sheets that adorned Roger’s bed to cover your naked chest, rolling on your side and feeling a dull ache between your legs. A soft grunt left your throat as confirmation that you’d heard him, and you heard him leave your side.

Opening your eyes ever so slightly, the black spiderwebs of your eyelashes filtered the London sunlight that poured through the open windows in Roger’s bedroom: a rare occurrence in the Autumn months. You caught a glimpse of Roger jumping up and down, trying to pull the skinny jeans that you threw to the floor last night over his legs. Stifling a chuckle, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“What’s so funny?” He grunted, a final bounce allowing the denim to slip up to his hips, his fingers nimbly fiddling with the zip of his fly.

“You look like an idiot.” Your voice was hoarse, presumably from yesterday, your memory of which was still somewhat hazy.

“Mhm, you weren’t saying that last night.” He leant over the queen size bed to kiss your temple, his voice climbing an octave or two as he launched into a rather unfortunate and somewhat unforgiving impression of yourself, “Oh, Roger, baby, fuck you feel so good! Your cock is so big-”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, and I never said your cock was bi-”

“Don’t start!” His breath tickled the wisps of your hair that framed your face as he laughed.

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“Thanks to your insistence that I fuck you twice last night, I bloody well slept in, didn’t I? M’late for the studio again, Fred’s gonna have a field day.” Roger’s voice was muffled as he tugged a t-shirt over his head, before peering in the mirror and ruffling his hair as an attempt to look somewhat presentable.

“Can you lock up for me after you leave?” He looked at you expectantly, a keyring dangling from his fingertip. And you hesitated. The simple request made your pulse flutter; that was something men asked of their partners, as they were leaving for work, as casual and unconcerned as asking them to pick up milk or eggs if they got a chance during the day. Whatever this thing you had going on with Roger was, it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Yet, the two of you found yourselves becoming increasingly comfortable with each other, insults fading to gentle teasing, along with moments where you’d feel his gaze on you when you weren’t looking. Freddie had picked up on the change, giving you a knowing smile when Roger brought you a cup of tea without you having to ask, or when you’d rewrite his lyrics in your spare time to save his bandmates the struggle of deciphering his unintelligible handwriting. Thankfully, Freddie carefully chose not to mention it, but it worried you that after two months of this whole ‘enemies with benefits’ thing, Brian had begun shooting you strange glances.

Brian was, perhaps, your closest friend. You’d desperately wanted to tell him what happened between yourself and Roger since you’d fucked in Freddie’s bathroom at that damn party, but you couldn’t. Roger was like his brother. It felt like you’d betrayed his trust somehow, hiding the dirty secret that was Roger Taylor.

The subconscious nodding of your head was enough to rescue your brain from the spiral it has descended into. “Sure. I’ll come by the studio later and drop the keys off.”

“Thanks, love, but make sure Brian and everyone doesn’t see, alright? Don’t want them asking questions.” He grinned at you, tossing the keys onto the foot of the bed, and you forced a quick laugh in response.

What if you wanted them all to know?

-

Later that day, you were sat in your parked car outside the recording studio, a take away cup of coffee cradled between your hands. You blew the steam rising from the cup, watching it curl before evaporating into the air; and then returning your blank stare to the dashboard. Your denial of having feelings for Roger had left you miserable, and the thought of having to come to terms with it all was frightening, to say the least. With a sigh, you patted down the pockets on your trousers to make sure his bloody keys were there, before unlocking the car door to make your way to the studio.

You pushed the door to the control room open carefully, so as not to make any noise in case they were recording. Roger’s keys were concealed in your first, and you intended to slip them into his palm or on a nearby table when everyone’s attention was required elsewhere. That was the intention, before you saw Roger’s arm around a lovely brunette, who was giggling into his chest. Roger himself snickered around the cigarette balanced between his lips, devouring the girl with his eyes and making no attempt to hide it.

You only realised you’d forgotten to breathe when you suddenly felt inexplicably dizzy, his keys slipping from your sweaty palm and clattering to the ground, catching his attention.

“Y/N!” His grin faded and he rose from the couch, stubbing out his cigarette in the process,  “Are you alright? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

This caught Brian’s attention, who was alerted to your presence as Roger expressed his concern.

“S’just vertigo,” you shook your head once to steady yourself, then leant down to swoop up the metal in one hand. “Here’s your keys.” Your breath caught in your throat as Brian shot you a confused glance. “Um, you should really stop leaving them lying around, Miami told me you left them in his office… yeah. Anyway. I think I left the iron on, so I better get going.”

“You just got here, stay for tea, at least.” Deaky chimed in, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Really, Deaky, I should go. You guys look busy, anyway.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” The quip came from Roger, and his words stung you a lot more than you’d have liked to admit. The smile on his lips died quickly as he saw the hurt expression on your face, and you pulled the door open, leaving the studio without another word.

Brian’s voice filtering from inside the room was the last thing you heard before your sobs overtook your senses.

“What the fuck is going on between you two?”

-

What you and he had, it wasn’t monogamous or exclusive. You’d both agreed on the fact early on, giving explicit permission to each other to see other people. He shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t, mean anything to you. Above all, you hated that you’d forgotten how to hate him. You bit your lip against a fresh wave of tears and wiped your nose with on sleeve, chin resting on your knee (you’d been perched on the couch all evening, feeling sorry for yourself).

Three quick raps at the door was enough to pull you out of your self-lamenting melancholy trance. You immediately knew it was Roger, and as much as you wanted to ignore him, you couldn’t. You spent a precious moment deliberating this, when a further three knocks prompted you to open the door against your better judgement.

“What happened back there?” He demanded as soon as the door swung open, a hand perched on his hip. “Could you have made it more obvious? Not to mention you looked like you were about to pass clean out, are you okay? Jesus Christ.”

“I’m fine, Roger. Sorry about the keys. Just… Now’s not a good time, alright?” You looked at the floor to hide your face, cheeks most likely streaked with the day’s coat of mascara. Attempting to swing the door shut, Roger’s foot halted it’s motion; and you had no choice but to let him finish.

“Hey… hey.” His voice was soft, earnest, sincere, as he ducked his head to try and get you to look him in the eye. “Have I done something wrong?”

“I just feel so fucking stupid, Roger. I don’t know what I expected, I… I just want some time alone. I think this thing, whatever we had going on, was a mistake.”

“Was it that girl?”

You paused, debating on whether or not to tell the truth. “I never presumed you to only be with me, that’s unfair.” Breathe in, and out.

“I’ve just realised that I like you a lot more than I’d care to admit.” It came out as a whisper, and you were unsure if he’d heard you from the silence that followed your statement; until his fingertips brushed underneath your chin gently to raise your head to meet his eyes. You were surprised to see he was smiling, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot,” it came out in a breathless laugh, “you’re an idiot, Y/N. That girl, all the others, I don’t want them. They’re groupies, they’re so easy and they’re nothing compared to you. S’my vice, and it’s fucked up. I get with other women when I don’t want to think about you.”

“Rog,” you blinked, reaching up to grasp his wrist. “If you’re fucking me around-”

“No. No. Not you. S’why I didn’t want this to be serious. If I ever hurt you,” he swallowed roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “I’d have to let you go.”

You inhaled sharply as your eyes searched his despairingly.

“I’ve fucked up every relationship I’ve ever been in, you know that. I’ve cheated on girls, Y/N.” His voice shook and he looked at the ground, his hand residing in his back pocket. He frowned and shook his head, “I can’t be with you.”

“I want you.”

“Don’t, just don’t-”

“I’m in love with you.” In truth, you didn’t realise you were in love with Roger until those words left your mouth in a last ditch attempt to make him stay. The confession cut him off abruptly, and his face crumpled. “I’m in love with you.” You repeated it again, trying to make the words sound right in your voice, because you hadn’t prepared for this.

His trembling hand reached up to gently cradle your face, his fingertips tracing soft lines over your skin. “Silly, silly girl.” A shaky smile tugged at his lips as he leant down to let his lips barely connect with yours, ever so delicately, the touch of a fairy.

“I was fucked ever since that bloody night in the bathroom,” His lips were still touching yours as he whispered, “And because I’m a selfish piece of shit, I love you too.”

“You should probably come in,” was the only thing you found yourself capable of saying, blinking against the sudden pricking of tears that threatened to escape.

He laughed softly, slowly standing up to his full height as tugged his jacket closer to his body against a sudden rush of wind.

“Thanks, m’freezing my balls off out here.”

You opened the door wider to allow him to pass through beside you, before shutting it with a soft click. Seeing him standing sheepishly in the hallway of your modest home was always enough to make you laugh, even tonight. With his leather jacket and aviators dangling from his neck of his shirt, he looked the part of a proper rockstar, and here he was. Surrounded by photos of you cradled in your mother’s arms as a baby, and baskets of laundry that you’d been meaning to sort out for a week.

You approached him shyly, arms crossing over the dressing gown that adorned your body.

“Scared of me?” He frowned, reaching a hand out to you to pull you into his body.

“Not you. Never you.” Your arms wrapped around his sturdy, comforting torso, cheek against his chest. He returned the gesture, as he buried his nose in your hair, arms circling your waist.

“Of getting hurt, then?” He rocked you slowly from side to side, his voice cracking barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

His fingers traced your jaw to prompt you to look up at him. He was even prettier from up close, you thought. Your nose almost touching his, you could see the tiny sun spots that were scattered on his cheeks, the stray eyebrow hairs that you constantly itched to pluck. Paired with his unparalleled mind that you’d had the privilege to see in action more times than you could count, he was a breathtaking man.

“It’s going to be alright, ‘ve got you. Mine.”

“Is this a bad idea?” You turned your head to whisper into his neck, and his hand squeezed your arm gently.

“Yes, s’what I’ve been trying to tell you. We’re too alike, you and I. Haven’t you noticed?” He pulled back. “Stubborn. Proud. Determined. Quick tempered, pretentious... I could go on, love.”

You suppressed a smile as he paused, deep in thought.

“But we’ll never know if we don’t give this a go. I love you. I love you, alright?” His hands rested on your arms firmly as he spoke into your eyes,

“Who would’ve thought,” your voice became softer as he drew closer to you, “Us. Together.”

“Fred’s gonna lose his shit.” And he kissed you properly for the first time since he’d told you he loved you, different from the frantic kisses after a studio session with the constant fear that someone was going to walk in, different from the sloppy kisses with alcohol on your breath on Roger’s leather couch. This was almost painfully slow, his tongue gliding beside yours, his arms fully enveloping your body to pull you into him.

“Bedroom?” You murmured, as his fingers swiftly began undoing the first button of your blouse.

“Mhm, you read my mind.”

-

You weren’t prepared for this side of Roger. During sex, he could be almost politely emotionally detached, always determined to show his dominant side with a hand around your throat or letting a string of his saliva drip into your mouth. You weren’t expecting the gentle kisses that laced your collarbones, nor how his fingertips fluttered over the sides of your hips.

“This is different,” you murmured, eyes closed as his tongue glided over a particularly nice spot on your neck.

“Never made love to you properly, s’always so rushed,” he sighed. “Let me take my time with you, believe I owe you one anyway.”

“If anything, I owe you, been so awful…” you trailed off while Roger’s lips continued to travel the length of your body

“Oh, don’t start getting soft on me, lovie.” He laughed, his breath tickling your stomach as he trailed gentle kisses down toward your thighs. “Just ‘cos we’re together now, don’t change, alright?”

Together. If you’d heard those words out of his mouth two months ago, or even heard him merely suggest the notion, you’d have decked him right in the face. Funny how things change.

Your hand easily found its way to tug at his hair as he nicked the soft flesh of the inside of your thigh. “Stop teasing!”

“Sorry, angel… ready for me, yeah?”

You nodded, almost timidly, feeling a strange wave of shyness overcome you as Roger glanced up at you with an eager, desirous look in his eyes. He’d been between your legs many times before, but you were never in love with him. Making love and fucking were two very different experiences, as Roger would agree. Not to mention, you’d never been with a man so utterly skilled and eager to please you

“Nervous? Never thought I’d see the day where you’d finally become starstruck.”

“Shush. Just…” You took a moment to admire how truly lovely he was, his lips a tantalizing shade of pink, his chin gleaming with your wetness as a soft smile played at his doe-like eyes. “I love you.”

His smile transformed into an almost childlike grin, which he, almost bashfully, attempted to hide by pressing a kiss to the top of your pubic bone.

“Love you.”

A soft squeal escaped your throat as Roger took you by surprise, eagerly pressing a slow French kiss to your core. His eyes were shut as he licked a few slow, careful strips over your entrance, his button nose nudging your clit just right. An explicit moan elicited from your lips, prompting him to delve further into your wetness.

His tongue entered you and flicked tongue swiftly against your walls, as he slid a single finger in with it. The pleasure this elicited was sensational, and you let him know, whining obscenities intertwined with his name.

You were squirming underneath his skillful tongue, your thighs convulsing as you gripped his hair desperately, and when he added a second finger, you knew you were done for.

“I’m so close, oh my God-”

He hummed softly against you, his free arm hooking around one thigh so he could press his mouth as close as possible to your clit, nicking the bundle of nerves ever so slightly with his teeth before easing the sharp pain (that was just the right amount) with his tongue.

Choked moans left your lips as your back arched, his skilled mouth leaving you unable to even speak.

“Say my name. Say m’name, lovie, wanna hear you…”

“Roger...Roger, R-Rog-”

His name left your lips in a tumble, like a prayer, your chest heaving as you pressed your pelvis toward his impeccable mouth. Your orgasm washed throughout your blood like a wave, to the point where tiny silver stars interrupted your vision. Clenching your thighs around his head to keep him in place, you shook violent against his very touch.

His tongue didn’t stop, not even as you finished, and you cursed, tears from the overstimulation stinging your eyes, as you tugged at his hair to pull him away.

“Too sensitive, too much, Rog!” You whined, and he finally pulled away with a satisfying pop, his chin glistening with your wetness. His brows turned inward, looking concerned as he saw a tear track its way down your cheek.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I? Oh, love.”

You shook your head, shakily propping yourself up on a couple of pillows so you were able to grip the back of his head and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. A soft whimper left his throat as he rose from his knees to meet the kiss

A sort of empty feeling had arose in your pelvis, along with which came an insatiable thirst to have him inside you. It almost made you upset, something which only added to your post orgasmic hazy tears. You just needed him.

“Felt so good,” you sniffed, “So good.”

“Why’re you crying, then?” He asked, delicately stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers.

Shaking your head again, you fumbled for the bulge in his trousers, evidently straining against the restriction of the fabric.

“Jus’ want you,” you murmured, “Let me.”

“Nope.” He caught your wrist, smiling against your skin. “Tonight’s ‘bout you, angel, remember?”

“Rog,” you whimpered, “Want you-”

“You’ve got me, love-”

“No, no. Want you. All of you.”

You looked upward, desperately searching his baby blue eyes as you intertwined your fingers with his. He looked taken aback, something that was utterly unusual for Roger.

“You mean without-?”

“Yes.” You sighed, squeezing his hand. You’d never done it, had sex, that is, without protection. Roger was, of course, privy to the fact that you’d had limited sexual encounters before him, and they hadn’t exactly been fantastic. But a sudden urge had overwhelmed you to feel him, and all of him, now.

“What if-”

“It’ll be okay.”

“If you’re positive, love.” His eyes softened as he kissed your hand, his mouth lingering as he awaited your response.

“Never been so sure in my life. I love you, Roger.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” His lips found yours once more, the kiss becoming messy and passionate as he pushed you onto your back. You giggled at the sudden movement, legs circling his waist as you found yourself underneath him once again.

You reached down to his belt, and this time, he didn’t stop you. You unbuckled the leather in a practiced motion and easily slid it through the loops of his jeans, throwing it with a clang to the floor beneath the bed.

“Careful, s’was expensive.” He grinned, his fingers already tugging at his fly.

“S’pose you haven’t got any money from all those best selling albums, then? Twat.”

“Watch your mouth, darlin’, don’t make me tease you…”

“You wouldn’t.”

He paused, making a show of considering your statement.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. Not when I want you this badly.” His words dissolved into a playful snarl as he placed a wet kiss on your neck, simultaneously shrugging off the denim that hugged his thighs.

The aching, empty feeling in your pelvis returned, and you whined.

“Need you. Need you, now…”

He silenced you with a quick peck as he removed his boxers, his cock slapping his tummy, the head a pale shade of scarlet with droplets of precum leaking from the tip. It looked almost painful, and yet he took particular care to maintain a calm manner

“Shh, shh. I’ve got you, yeah? Got all the time in the world. Wanna make this special for you.”

“It’s already perfect.”

His cock nudged your entrance unintentionally as he re-positioned himself closer to you, and you hissed, a noise which he silenced with a soft kiss.

“M’not gonna last long.” You whispered, your forehead pressing against his.

“Oh, neither am I, can tell you that right now. Not when I’ve got the most lovely girl,” he brushed away strands of hair clinging to your temples, “in all of London, perhaps even the world,” he grinned, “underneath me.”

You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head at his words.

“Be quiet, silly boy.”

“Apologies, m’lady.” He smile softened as he gazed at you lovingly. “This is going to feel different, alright? Better… a lot better, actually, but jus’ prepare yourself, alright? Don’t want t’give you a shock.”

Roger gripped the base of his cock and gently pushed past your folds, and you immediately shuddered, your eyes rolling back in your head. Having his skin against yours so much more intimate than you could have ever imagined, especially being able to feel every imperfection and bump. Condoms could sometimes leave you rubbed raw, especially at the speed Roger tended to achieve, but everything was already so much smoother and utterly perfect. The both of you fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, he wasn’t too big, you weren’t too tight. Perfect.

“Alright?” He murmured, sighing into your neck. “You’re so warm, fuck, feels s’good…”

“Can feel everything,” you breathed, nails digging into Roger’s back as he continued to slide further into your warmth.

“Me too, angel, Christ-” His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, and you yourself gazed at him lazily through your lashes, drunk on lust and love and all the feelings that you had for the man.

“I’m so in love with you.” He whimpered, supporting his weight on one arm as his free hand cradled your cheek. “M’ so in love. Don’t deserve you.”

“Stop saying that, Roger.” You whispered, both of you inhaling sharply as your walls briefly spasmed around his cock. “We deserve each other. You’ve got me forever if you want me.”

He smiled, pulling out halfway before slowly bringing his hips back to meet yours. “I’ll always want you.”

You tilted your chin up to kiss him as he thrusted into you once more, as your fingers, seemingly having a mind of their own, found your throbbing clit, desperate for more friction.

“Nope,” Roger gasped, brushing your hand away to replace it with his own, something you were grateful for; his touch was forever superior to your own. He nimbly rubbed against the bundle of nerves, applying just the right amount of pressure that you whining and bucking your hips to meet his touch.

“Roger, oh my-”

His speed increased in a perfectly timed crescendo; his incredible in-built sense of rhythm always left you astonished, both in the bedroom, and in the studio.

“Fuck, baby, feels so… s’good, s’good…” you gripped his shoulders desperately as he rocked against you, biting into his shoulder in an attempt to quieten your moans.

Roger transferred his weight onto his elbows, so his forehead was against yours, the new angle allowing the head of his cock to nudge a soft spot inside you that caused you to cry out.

“Tha’s the spot, yeah?”

You nodded frantically in response, not trusting your voice. Craning your neck, you watched him sliding in and out of you, the slick, heavenly, wet sounds of skin on skin only pushing you closer to the edge. The sensation of him, bare inside you, was almost, almost, simply too much to bear. Even Roger, a man who you’d once called a whore, was seemingly overwhelmed, his face contorted with pleasure as his grinded his hips against yours.

“M’gonna… cum…” he grunted, his lips parting as he moaned your name desperately, burying his head in your neck. “Where’d you wan’ it?” His words became slurred, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he began to lose himself to the wave of euphoria he was about to experience.

“Stomach,” You gasped in response.

Roger quickly, yet gently, pulled out of you, your sheer amount of wetness making it an easy task. He fisted his cock furiously, pumping his length, as he threw his head back, and it was his turn to chant your name.

“Y/N, fuck me, love, m’coming… oh!” Expeditious white, hot ribbons of cum shot onto your pelvis as he growled, strands of his tousled blonde hair clinging to his forehead. “Fuck, fuck!”

You furiously rubbed tight circles over your clit at the sight of him coming undone, and came again yourself, your orgasm creeping up on you without much warning. But, soon enough, you found your muscles seizing, eyes fluttering, your entire body feeling like it was on fire; in the best way.

Roger collapsed on top of you just as you finished, fighting to catch his breath.

“Gonna get cum on you,” you breathed, referring to the mess he’d made on your belly.

“Don’t care,” he panted, pressing light, butterfly kisses over the span of your chest and collarbones. “Beautiful, beautiful lady, n’all mine, too.”

“All yours.” You smiled, kissing his cheek and taking his hand in yours.

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Almost didn’t think it was gonna happen.”

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor x reader #brian may smut #brian may x reader #brian may fluff #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy!roger x reader #john deacon smut

[dsmroleplay]

#BeautyAndTheBeast Part 13 #DSM #RP #SPN #BtVS

Writers: @HuntersGirlBaby @DeadlyJager @DeanWinchester_ @JulianRyker & @OutcastBrother @Defenderguard

Alyson: *The sound of shouting, gun fire in the distance. Her daddy came for her. Her heart swelled and wept all at once. She would be safe, Graham would be safe. And they would all go home.

Ali peeked from the corner that she hid tightly in. Looking out the window, she could see  the court yard. There was daddy, Graham was there. Julian and daddy circled each other. Her eyes going wide at the horror scene before her. Graham had been whipped his back covered in blood. Fear gripped her heart, Julian would kill daddy. No! Banging on the window she tried to open the window. She cried out.* Daddy!! Run he’s going to kill you!! *she had seen with her own eyes what Julian could do. Hell she had a black and purple bruise to prove he hit hard. The panes of glass to thick. He could hear her. She beat harder on the window. But it  was no use. Daddy and his men had coke to save her. And they all would get hurt. Because of her. Mind racing, trying to form a plan. No one else would get hurt because of her.

As she tried harder to get the window open, a growl rumbled behind her. Her whole body tensed. Jesus, she never should have come out her corner.* Witch! *the woman hissed a growl at Ali. Peeking over her shoulder Rosa stood.* Julian is going to kill your father, and then the traitor. You will watch as your family dies before you! *Something snapped inside of Ali. Anger  poured through her body. Pumping through her veins. Ali turned fully to face Rosa.* NO ONE TOUCHES MY FAMILY!!! *Ali screamed, with a force unlike anything she had felt before. Poured out of her small little body. Gripping ahold of Rosa.

She slammed her against the wall.* IM NOT A WHORE OR A WITCH!! *With each word she screamed she throw Rosa from one side of the room to the other. Anger fueled her, as she stepped away from the window. Her fists held at her sides.* You held me prisoner! You hurt me!! *the more anger she felt, she held Rosa in  the air. Eyes trained on her arms. Breaking each one, Rosa screamed.* You took me from my family!!! *her legs were next as she broke them. The sick sound of bones breaking, echoed around the room.* You. Will. Never. Hurt. Anyone. Again!!! *Blood poured from Ali’s nose. But she didn’t care. As Rosa begged in the air, Ali lost all compassion for her. Her powers curled around Rosa’s neck. Ali twisted her neck, as Rosa tried to fight it. With a hard push she snapped her neck, letting Rosa fall to the ground. Ali felt nothing, with hard eyes she  looked to the woman on the floor. Titling her head studying for a few moments. Still nothing for the woman.

The sounds of serval heavy foot steps pounded behind her. She turned with eyes harden. Well if this was it she was fighting for her family. With a smirk she ready  herself.* This might hurt, just a bit. *they growled, and jumped into action. Shit! Letting her mind take over. She pushed as many back as could. As she kept her distance. Don’t let them touch you. Just long enough until she could run.* ::::::::::::::::::::: Qhuinn: I was right behind Colton. I took on anyone who would attempt to jump from behind. I had to be careful not to reveal what I was, skidding to a stop, I knew this battle was for Colt alone, so I crossed my arms over my thick chest, daring any asshole to interfere. :::::::::::::::::::::: Colt: -As the fight ensued Blackwater operatives took down Julian's men pretty quickly until they began to shift. Julian was taken down and his throat ripped out before he hit the concrete, one of the other operatives managed to kill the perpetrator but it was already to late for Julian. Colt and Julian had drew blood from one another and were on the ground wrestling as Graham finally got loose from restraints. Cracking his neck he spotted Julian and in seconds he'd pulled him off of Colt and snapped his neck. Holding the dead pack leader by the neck for the others emerging to see he let out a growl and by their rules Graham was now in charge of this pack. Within minutes they backed off and Graham dropped Julian Duval to the ground. He offered a hand to Colt and Colt took it, breathing hard still pumping with adrenaline.- Alyson should be inside, they had orders not to harm her. -That much he knew.- :::::::::::::::::::::: Qhuinn: Gritting my teeth, I watched the entire fight before watching some guy come up and snap the guy's neck. Running into the middle of the  battle, I heard Colt talk about Aly and I ran inside the building. "Aly!" I called out, before knocking someone out who thought It was smart to come after me. Inside the building held too many scents, the scent of blood had my fangs punching my gums, fuck! With a hiss, I dropped my head and continued to search the rooms for her, hoping none of Colt's men or Aly see the hardware. ::::::::::::::::::: Alyson: *In the back of Ali’s head, pain swirled, but so much pumped through her little body, mostly anger. She threw pieces of furniture across the room, keeping them away from her. But she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to go. She had to keep going, had too. She didn’t know, what was happening with her daddy, with Graham and who else had come. She needed to hold out and get to them. There was no other way. They all had coke, Graham had kept her safe. Ali would do the same.

Black spots dotted around her vision. She shook her head as ran  to one side of the room. That is when she heard her name. It was Qhuinn! Lifting a heavy table with her powers she threw it at the men as hard as she could. Darting from the room she screamed.* Qhuinn!! *running as fast as she could, blood dripping from her chin and into her chest. But she didn’t care. She ran as fast as she could. Pushing herself to keep going.

Seeing Qhuinn, she waved her arms. Plowing into his body and hugging him tight. He was ok, she was ok. Holding to him as long as she could. But she had to be sure that daddy and Graham were ok. Gripping his hand she looked up to him, buried cheek and jaw.* We have to go! Daddy, Graham! They..they could be badly hurt. *Graham already was, she seen his back. She needed to know he was ok.

Holding his hand, she ran back through the house. Not looking at the  bodies that lay around. She couldn’t right now. Panting already, but she didn’t stop. Bursting out onto the court yard. She stopped dead in her tracks. There stood daddy and Graham. Tears filled her eyes, pouring down her dirty face. Crying out.* Daddy!! *letting go of Qhuinn’s hand. She stumbled and ran to her daddy. He was ok, Julian didn’t kill him. Little body crashing into his. She sobbed, they held each other tight. Shaking in his arms. He was really here. It wasn’t just a dream. Her daddy, soothed her. Speaking softly to her. He  helped calm herself. Letting him, inspect her face and make sure she was alright. Smiling softly as he did so.

Daddy and daughter had their moment. Ali squeezed her daddy, placing a kiss on his cheek. Letting him go she turned to Graham. He had been with her through everything. Seeing him standing there, she thought he would be killed. And it would have been because of her. Without a second thought she went to him. Jumping a little she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. Her tears of relief never stopped. Having to whisper from all the emotions pouring through her.* Graham, I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me. I’m so glad that you’re ok. You protected me, calmed me and you were there for me. It means so much to me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. *she kissed both of his cheeks.*  You have a place, with me and my family. I..I want you to come with me, with us. *holding to him tightly.* You have me and my family now. No matter what. *her little body sagged in relief. Home. They would all get to go home.* ::::::::::::::::::::::: Ethan: Whoever was holding Alybee. Their heads were going to be dancing on my blade and their limbs would be separate from their body and place on every corner of this world as made an example no one will touch my family.

Ethan made his way through each room like a mad man killed the thing, everyone, insight. He didn't have a care in the world that he was supposed to be the good guy but not this time. Ripping limbs and torturing three guys tied to chairs demanding answering what or who had taken his daughter Alybee. When one of them thought they would be funny and talk in Latin. When Ethan laughed you think you're funny. When he stood and swing his blade slide through the head of the Latin speaking guy. Right who is next? When he cleaned his blade with the dead guy clothing. Speak English and quickly I'm in a mood.

The two men just looked at each other and beg they didn't know anything. When Ethan just murdered them both. With his bare hand ripping their heart out. He moved on from the room searching each room. Shooting his way through the hallways. He was an  angel possessed looking for his family in Alybee and Colt. Making his way thought the building coming across some faces he knew in Colt team. Taking on fire from the opposing side.  Ethan storm through the fire protecting the team to taking on four more slicings them up with like butter with his blade. No one would be left in his wake of his storm looking for  Alybee.

When he could feel her she was becoming closer. He followed suit when he could see Colt just ahead of him fighting his ass off. When he help and join in with the fighting. Tearing two more heads off their shoulder making his way the assault of Julian men. When he stopped to see one of Colt men injured when he went over to look at him, he had been shot in the stomach and was bleeding. Ethan stops to heal him. As there wasn't just humans in this building but a few other supernatural creatures too. Ethan's eyes glowed to start  his stampede on anyone going after the black water teams. When he had caught up with Colt. Tapping him on the shoulder. Shall we continue to get your baby girl? Get the teams and  Stay behind me Colt. I'll take any gunfire. We have a daughter to save. She not that far away now just up one more staircase ahead. I can feel her and someone is injured too near her.

#DSM BTVS SPN RP

[kwonhozhi]

So Let The Love Tear Us Apart

this is a gift 4 my life partner @alrightevans as a congratulations for getting through her exams im proud of u, u dickhead xxxx

( love also to @prongsyouignoramus for her help )

Word Count: 3200

AO3

It’s been two weeks since Mr Evans’ funeral, James’ mum informs them sombrely she clicks on her left indicator to leave the train station carpark. Sirius shoots James a look, but James just stares out the window and counts the number of garden gnomes they pass.

(Nobody has garden gnomes in London, except Notorious Nick from halls in first year, and even then, he’d stolen them.

He’d let James help him go at them with cricket bats in the courtyard after exams. Smashing a ceramic gnome with a swing that would’ve scored a six was one of life’s finer pleasures, he’d decided.)

“How long are you boys staying for?” Euphemia asks, and this earns James another look from Sirius.

“Not sure yet,” Sirius says, but he’s still giving James that look, the one that tells James when he’s being too depressing, or too melancholy, and Sirius is this close to calling his mum about it. It’s a look that says why are you keeping secrets from us?

“A while, I think,” James says.

“Oh?” Euphemia tries to make eye contact with James through the rearview mirror, but he stares steadfastly at the back of the headrest in front of him.

“Is it alright if we go to Pete’s before dinner?”

She pauses, trying to weigh the situation. “Of course.”

James sits back and starts on the gnomes again.

Fleamont is there, at the end of that long gravel driveway, ready to haul their bags out of the boot, but James takes one look at his father’s grey-laced head, and thinks of Mr Evans, and races around the car to get there first.

He trudges up the stairs, and Sirius heads toward the garden, or the bathroom, or the library. Euphemia follows James, and when he pushes open his bedroom door, she puts her arms around his middle, and rests her chin on his shoulder. They survey the room together for a second and there’s something off about it, but he can’t–

“Awful boy,” she says, and it’s the stripped bed that’s the issue, “not even giving me enough warning so I could have fresh sheets for you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, and he means it. He pats his mum’s wrist, and then he pulls free to dump his duffel next to the dresser.

Sirius knocks on the doorframe, and they both jump a little. “Pete’s expecting us. We’d better head.”

James nods, and kisses his mother on the cheek. “We won’t be ages.”

Peter’s street looks exactly the same as James remembers, except that all the curtains are drawn on the Evans house as they pass it. Lily’s light isn’t even on.

(He threw enough rocks at her window during sixth form that he’ll never forget the sight of her, in one of her dad’s old t-shirts and pants, silhouetted by the - and he’d made fun of her for this - soft pink light of her lamp.)

That window is a void space now, silent and nothing. He wonders if she’s in there.

“Hurry up, you sad fucker - if you start pining over Evans again as well, I’m going back to London.” It’s an empty threat, they both know it, but James looks away from the sleeping house anyway, and half jogs to catch Sirius up.

Peter hugs them both rather bodily, considering he was only in London to visit three weeks ago.

Mrs Pettigrew fusses over them for a few minutes - “My, James, how gaunt you look - it’s that city air, I’d bet my life on it, it’s no good for you!” - before Pete cuts her off with an exasperated mum, and leads them into the den.

“Smash?” Peter asks, and James nods his approval, and Sirius grunts in a way that seems to indicate yes.

Sirius and James fight over the only beanbag–

(There had been two, once upon a time, then Sirius had gone through his punk phase, and the flimsy fabric had been no match for his safety pins.)

James is the victor, but that doesn’t mean much, because Sirius just sits on top of him anyway while Peter turns on the PlayStation, and then Sirius says, “Why didn’t you tell mum we’re moving back?” and James is in a foul mood, just like that.

“Because,” James says, giving Sirius a shove that leaves him sprawled unceremoniously on the floor, “if I tell her that, then I’ll have to tell her I quit my job, then she’ll ask why I quit, then I’ll have to tell her I fucking hate engineering, and that she and dad paid for a degree in it for nothing because I’m never going to use it. And then she’ll ask what about Elenore, then I’ll have to tell her that Elenore cheated on me with a guy who looks a lot less like Harry Styles than she’s been telling everyone he does, and she’ll get this knowing look like didn’t I tell you white girls are no good for you? And I just don’t want to deal with that, yet.”

“Christ,” says Peter, and hands him a controller.

Two rounds in, when Peter is changing the settings from six stock to one, because he reckons it’s more fun that way, James’ phone chirps, and he gets this weird, apprehensive feeling when he sees Marlene McKinnon’s name in the notification, so he ignores it.

(It’s a video, shared to his timeline. He’d been young, and drunk, and in what he thought had been love, and it was the best night of his life, the night that he and Lily had lost their shit to a fucking Joy Division song at the roller disco that’s been sans roller since 1981.)

James says, “Are the Evanses away?”

Peter goes stiff for a second, and then, “Nah. I’ve seen Petunia around. The curtains have been shut since Papa Evans passed.”

“Did you go to the funeral?”

“‘Course,” Pete says. “Whole town did, just about. No-one’s seen Lily since,” he adds, because he knows James can’t bring himself to ask. “Let’s play - look, it’s sudden death, oh no don’t Sirius! Don’t just throw yourself off the edge, you’re spoiling it!”

Dinner is a funny affair, not in that it’s actually funny, but that it’s completely silent, which is the strange sort of funny. Euphemia keeps looking at James when she thinks he can’t see, but he knows what it feels like to have his mother’s eyes on him, knows the weight of it better than anything.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” he says, when he’s only halfway through his food, because he can’t stand it anymore. He hasn’t been alone in a week and a half, hasn’t been alone since he came home from dinner with Elenore and not-Harry Styles, hasn’t been alone since Sirius climbed  into bed with him that night.

“Remus gets in tomorrow,” Sirius reminds him, and he nods as he kisses his mother’s cheek, and takes his plate to the kitchen.

He sets it down quietly, and chokes back a sob, and lets his feet carry him into the back garden. He can see the whole town from here, but suddenly he doesn’t want to, so he takes off his glasses, and that solves that problem.

He lets his feet carry him further, and his fingers brush over petals, over leaves, over petals. He finds his hands full, somehow, and he lets his feet carry him further, past the back of the property, and down the hill, and out, and out, and away. He wonders when he’ll stop needing to get away.

Sirius is curled up on James’ bed when he gets back.

“Told Mum you were in the bath when she came to check,” he yawns when James shakes him softly. “Remember Remus gets in tomorrow.”

James stands, itching to cross the hall to Sirius’ empty bed. “I know,” he says quietly.

She intercepts him on the footpath outside her house. She looks like hell, and he wishes all of a sudden that he’d gone with Sirius to pick Remus up from the station because he doesn’t want to face her alone.

“Did you leave flowers on my father’s grave?” she asks, and it’s almost a challenge, an accusation. He nods, meekly. “Why?”

“Because he was a good man, and I’m glad I knew him, even if it wasn’t as well as I,” or you, “might have liked,” he says, and it’s the truth. He knows it’s the truth, because it makes her cry, and then somehow she’s sobbing into his shoulder, and he’s rubbing her back, and neither of them quite remembers how they got there.

“You weren’t at the funeral,” she says, quietly. “I needed you at the funeral,” she doesn’t, loudly.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to give her any excuses - no “I didn’t know” (false), or “Elenore would never have let me” (true), or “I was afraid” (truer) - and she seems relieved by that, almost.

“Come in?” she asks.

“I can’t,” he says. “The boys are all waiting at Pete’s.”

She has this half smile on - the one that always meant that she thought it was so cool that they were all so close, and loyal, and in love with each other, and she says, “Come ‘round tomorrow, then?”

And against his better judgement, he says, “Okay.”

She smiles softly, or, no, she looks at him softly, and maybe the smile is just a side effect. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or his  face, or himself, so he says, “I have to go,” and goes.

“Where’ve you been?” Pete asks when James appears in the doorway to the den, and Remus stands to greet him. Sirius does not.

“Ran into Evans up the street.”

“How is she?” Remus asks.

“How would you be?” James says, and Remus concedes that. “She wanted me to come inside.”

“Grief sex,” Sirius says, loudly.

“Man, shut up, my mum’s here!” Peter hisses, punching Sirius in the thigh.

“Peter, you’re almost 23,” Sirius deadpans.

“We don’t all have shitty parents who don’t–”

“Pete,” James warns, because he’s not in the mood to cross that line right now. “Anyway I told her I couldn’t so she asked me to come over tomorrow.”

“Grief sex,” Sirius says again, quieter. The look on Peter’s face says it’s still not quiet enough.

“Do you think?”

“Well, you have a history, don’t you?”

Even Remus seems to be on Sirius’ side now.

“Oh come on, that was once!”

“Once is enough,” Remus says sagely.

“Oh, fuck off, then. Are we going to do something or what?”

Peter rolls his eyes and puts on Stardust.

There are seventeen IKEA candles burning in Lily’s room when she lets him in. He counts them because she lets him in, and then sits down in her desk chair and doesn’t say anything. He sits down on the edge of her bed, and they avoid looking at each other for a while.

Mrs Evans brings them tea, after what seems like an eternity of studying the blutack marks on the walls. “I guessed that you still take your tea the same way,” she says. He doesn’t, but he thanks her and takes it anyway.

Lily gets up to close the door behind her mum, and then she surprises him by joining him on the bed. “How is, um, what’s-her-name?”

“Elenore?”

“Yeah, her.”

“No idea.”

“You broke up?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story, and not a clean one.”

“That’s why you’re back,” she says. It isn’t a question. He’s barely seen her in four years, but she still speaks to him like she knows him, better than anyone. Better than Elenore ever did. Fuck, he thinks.

“Doesn’t seem so important, in retrospect.”

She sizes him up, looks at him like she can’t believe he could be this daft. “It’s important, James. Shit things don’t invalidate other shit things. There’s more than one type of heartbreak.”

And then, because he hasn’t said it, and they both need him to, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come.”

“It’s okay. I mean, no, it wasn’t - I was so angry with you. I was so angry right up until I say you yesterday, and then I remembered you’re just a guy, and you can’t make everything better.” She takes a sip of her tea then, so he does too, just so he doesn’t have to respond. He doesn’t know how. “I’ve missed you.”

“You should have come to London,” he says. “To visit.” To live.

“I could never afford it.” I could never afford it. “You’re back now, anyway.”

“Not forever.”

“Are you going to go back, then?”

He thinks of Elenore and not-Harry Styles, and their facebook engagement announcement, and about how Elenore’s stopped posting instagram photos from the waist down, and he says, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Where are you gonna go, then?” she asks, and she’s playing with the corner of her quilt, worrying at the wool like he does when he feels like the world is too much.

“Dunno. Dublin, maybe. Prague, or Budapest, or I think Sirius wants to go to New York.”

“It’s like you don’t want me to visit,” she jokes, or doesn’t joke as she fixes him with a stare that feels like she’s thinking about jumping out the window.

“Maybe I don’t,” he jokes, or doesn’t joke, and she swallows, hard. “Of course I do.” He links a finger with hers, drags her hand away from the quilt. “Hey. Of course I do.”

She takes her hand back, takes an improbably large gulp of tea. Leaves her heart behind.

She puts on an episode of the IT Crowd, the street Countdown one, and they watch it without any particular emotion, and when it’s over, he leaves.

“What happened between you and Elenore?” Remus asks, when James has sat down, and flagged the server over, and asked for a pot of English Breakfast with soy on the side. He already has a coffee, the rude git.

“Nothing good,” James says tightly.

“C'mon, James. You have to tell us eventually.”

“What’s there to tell?” James sighs. “She started coming home smelling like smoke, and then she stopped drinking, and then she took me out to dinner and Ben fucking Adams was there too–”

“Ben Adams? The guy on her instagram who looks like Harry Styles?”

“He doesn’t! He doesn’t look like him! In like, that one photo, kind of.”

“Sore spot?”

“He doesn’t. He was there too, with his hand up her skirt, and she leans over and tells me that he’s in our relationship, tells doesn’t ask. And I say, isn’t this something we should discuss? And she tells me that he’s in, or I’m out.”

“So you were out.”

“So I was out.”

“Alright then. And what happened between you and Lily?”

“Ah,” James says. “That.” It’s been three days and, “I don’t really know,” is still the only thing to say.

“It’ll work out,” Remus says, as the waitress comes back with James’ tea. “Frank Longbottom’s DJing the roller disco tonight,” he says.

“Where’d you hear that?” James asks.

“His floor is my ceiling. I hear everything he says.”

“I forgot about that.” The waitress puts down the pot, and his saucer, and his cup, and the little jug of milk, and he thinks that they probably went to school together now that he looks at her properly.

“So are we going?”

“Going where?” James asks, looking back at Remus.

“The roller disco. Are you even listening? Like, listening to the words I’m saying?”

James throws a sugar packet at him. “Why would we go?”

“Because we know Frank.”

“It’s going to be full of seventeen-year-olds.”

“Yeah, but we know Frank.”

“You already said that.”

“We can get him to play like, actual good music. Music from this century.”

James thinks about the video on his timeline, and frowns. “You know Sirius will…”

“Make him play Gasolina seventeen times? Yes. I already foresaw that. And I decided it’s worth it.”

James stares at Remus, stares and stares, and then says, “Okay. Let’s go to the roller disco.”

He calls her on the busride home, which surprises them both. She picks up, which surprises them more. “Hey,” she says.

“We’re going to the roller disco tonight.”

“I can’t,” she says.

“Alright,” he says.

“I just…”

“It’s okay. That’s where we’ll be, if you need us.” He hangs up, and he’s missed his stop, and he wants to kick a hole in a fence, any fence. What the fuck are you doing, he thinks. He flips off a garden gnome, then he flips off the one next to it. He flips off every single garden gnome the whole way home.

Sirius takes forever to get ready, and by the time he turns up to Remus’ house in holographic shorts and a mesh shirt, the session’s already started. Frank laughs and laughs when they walk into the roller disco, but about what exactly, they can’t be sure.

(Maybe it’s just the sight of them, familiar and iconic even after four years, or maybe it’s the mesh top. Maybe it’s Peter’s flares. Maybe it’s Remus pulling a flask out from under his snapback. Maybe it’s the way James leaps up and latches onto the edge of the DJ booth to give him a quick kiss.)

James’ phone buzzes halfway through I Believe In A Thing Called Love.

He picks up on the second ring. “I’m in a taxi,” she says.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“The darker side of town. Will you wait for me?”

“Of course,” he says, and she hangs up. “I’m going outside,” he tells Peter, who nods, “to wait for Evans.”

“I take it Sirius is here,” is what she says as he pays the taxi driver for her, and they take a moment to feel the bass from Gasolina through the closed hall door.

“Yep. C'mon.”

He takes her hand, or maybe she takes his, or maybe they meet somewhere in the middle. He pulls open the door and leads her through the dance floor, up to the DJ booth.

“I don’t know what to ask for,” she shouts over a ella le gusta la gasolina.

“Really?” he shouts back, over dame más gasolina.

She gets this look on her face, all mischief and excitement, and she ushers him back to the boys with an, “It’s a secret!”

He watches her catch Frank’s attention, and him lean down to hear her, and then Frank looks over at James as he nods, which sends a shiver down James’ spine.

She takes both his hands and drags him into the middle of the dance floor, and it’s just in time, because-

“Holy shit!” he shouts, and she grins at him as she starts dancing, and it’s such an inappropriate song for the mood of the place, and some seventeen-year-old is shouting what the fuck is this, but he joins her, and everything is going wrong but they’re so happy, and maybe he is in love with her, and–

Love, love will tear us apart, 

Again 

#fic #jily #jily* #my writing #gxldentrio #alrightpotter #alrightanakin #quidditchlesbian #jiilys #prongsyouignoramus #struttinglikeapotter #chloe #queeniegldstn #padfootdidit