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#this is one of those songs where i really like but never thought about the lyrics...
mclennonlgbt · 3 days
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Paris in John and Paul’s life
30th September 1961:
“John and I went on a trip for his twenty-first birthday. John was from a very middle-class family, which really impressed me because everyone else was from working-class families. To us John was upper class. His relatives were teachers, dentists, even someone up in Edinburgh in the BBC. It’s ironic, he was always very ‘fuck you!’ and he wrote the song ‘Working Class Hero’ – in fact, he wasn’t at all working class. Anyway, one of John’s relatives gave him £100 for his birthday. A hundred smackers in your hand! That was a real windfall. None of us could believe it. To this day if you gave me £100 I would be impressed. And I was his mate, enough said? ‘Let’s go on holiday.’ – ‘You mean me too? With the hundred quid? Great! I’m part of this windfall.’” - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“We planned to hitchhike to Spain. I had done a spot of hitchhiking with George and we knew you had to have a gimmick; we had been turned down so often and we’d seen that guys that had a gimmick (like a Union Jack round them) had always got the lifts. So I said to John, ‘Let’s get a couple of bowler hats.’ It was showbiz creeping in. We still had our leather jackets and drainpipes – we were too proud of them not to wear them, in case we met a girl; and if we did meet a girl, off would come the bowlers. But for lifts we would put the bowlers on. Two guys in bowler hats – a lorry would stop! Sense of Humour. This, and the train, is how we got to Paris. - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“And Paul and I also did the same thing, once. We just cancelled. We’d made it, in Liverpool. We were making good money, for those days. I can’t remember what it was – maybe a couple of hundred dollars a week – but enough that you’d have a little extra. You’d have it in your back pocket. And Paul and I just— A relative of mine gave me a hundred pounds, for my birthday, which I’d never seen that much money in me life. Paul and I just canceled all the engagements, and left for Paris… And George was furious, because he needed the money – to work, you know. But that was another time when the group was in debate as whether it would exist or not.”  - John Lennon, 1976, an interview with Elliot Mintz
“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together – in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart Sutcliffe, Anthology
“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, ‘God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris – John was funding it all with his hundred quid.
We would walk miles from our hotel; you do in Paris. We’d go to a place near the Avenue des Anglais and we’d sit in the bars, looking good. I still have some classic photos from there. Linda loves one where I am sitting in a gendarme’s mac as a cape and John has got his glasses on askew and his trousers down revealing a bit of Y-front. The photographs are so beautiful, we’re really hamming it up. We’re looking at the camera like, ‘Hey, we are artsy guys, in a café: this is us in Paris,’ and we felt like that.
We went up to Montmartre because of all the artists, and the Folies Bergères, and we saw guys walking around in short leather jackets and very wide pantaloons. Talk about fashion! This was going to kill them when we got back. This was totally happening. They were tight to the knee and then they flared out; they must have been about fifty inches around the bottom and our drainpipe trousers were something like fifteen or sixteen inches. We saw these trousers and said, ‘Excusez-moi, Monsieur, où did you get them?’ It was a cheap little rack down the street so we bought a pair each, went back to the hotel, put them on, went out on the street – and we couldn’t handle it: ‘Do your feet feel like they are flapping? Feel more comfortable in me drainies, don’t you?’ So it was back to the hotel at a run, needle and cotton out and we took them in to a nice sixteen with which we were quite happy. And then we met Jürgen Vollmer on the street. He was still taking pictures." - Paul McCartney, Anthology
“Jürgen had a flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front, which we rather took to. We went over to his place and there and then he cut – hacked would be a better word – our hair into the same style.” - John Lennon, 1963
Interviewer: I heard you took a trip to Spain before once, didn’t you? On Holiday? Paul: I didn’t go to Spain, no. I tried once to make Spain but… and John and I were gonna hitchhike. We hitchhiked down from Liverpool… We didn’t hitchhike. No, we got the train down from Liverpool ‘cause we thought we won’t hitchhike down the first bit. And we got the boat over to Paris. Then we got the train into Paris ‘cause we thought: “Well, it’ll be too hard to get a hitch here”. And we just stayed in Paris all week. And eventually… I mean, all the time trying to get out of Paris and make Spain! We never made it, we just flew home at the end. What a lazy hitchhiking Holiday!
“The thing was all the kissing and holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic just to be there and see them even though I was 21 and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing. And they weren’t not mauling at each other, they were just kissing.” - John Lennon
"John’s 21st birthday was a month away, and he knew he was getting money — 100 pounds cash, more than he or Paul had ever seen in their lives. (…) Bob Wooler was party to their planning, and fought with them:
They were bored, and decided they would go away for a month. I thought this was disastrous because they would be away from the scene too long and lose their fans, Fans were very capricious: they moved from one group to another. And anyway, what about the other two members, George Harrison and Pete Best?. What about them, what do they do? We argued a lot about this — we argued in the back room of the grapes pub to a large extent —- and they said ‘Well, we’ll go away for a fortnight only’
(…) Equally, the promoters who paid the Beatles over-the-odds to present them every week had to “lump it” (….). To a man, and woman, they were incensed by it - but John and Paul hadn’t a care. They didn’t mean to be rude about it but basically it was tough shit.
it was tough too on Dot and Cyn, Dot simply had to accept the situation, but Cyn had a greater case of grievance. John was heading off without her when he could so easily gave waited for the art school holidays. (…).
That John was taking Paul, no one else, accentuates the renewed closeness since Stu quit The Beatles. They were the Beatles force, an unstoppable and authentically powerful pair. “Lennon had the attitude”, Wooler said, “and taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were superior human beings”
"You’d always see them together, in the pub or walking along the street", says Johnny Gustafson of the Big Tree. "They were a duo, and seemed each other’s equal". Bernie Boyle, the young lad hanging around with them at every opportunity, says, "They were like brothers, with John as the elder and Paul’s mentor. They were so tight it was like there was a telepathy between them: on stage, they’d look at each other and know instinctively what the other was thinking"
They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from The Beatles and gofin off to Spain. 
Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday, September 30. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent and so close. - Mark Lewinsohn, Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years (2013)
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As was written in this post: That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.
Unconfirmed quote (may or may not be true): 
"He must have been fond of me to spend that money. He let me have all the banana milkshakes I wanted.”  - Paul McCartney
In January 1964, only a few scant weeks before the Beatles took America by storm, the band mates settled in for an extended stay in Paris. For the group, the Parisian visit proved to be a magical experience, with the Beatles playing 18 shows at the Olympia Theatre between Jan. 16 and Feb. 4 (source).
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The photo Paul took of John (in the "Eyes Of The Storm" book):
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1969:
Hoping to get married in France, John Lennon and Yoko Ono flew to Paris on this day [16th March].
The couple had decided to marry on 14 March 1969, two days after the wedding of Paul McCartney to Linda Eastman; whether it was in response to this event on some level is open to conjecture.
On McCartney’s wedding day Lennon and Ono were travelling to Poole in Dorset, where he introduced her to his Aunt Mimi. During the journey he asked his chauffeur Les Anthony to go to Southampton to enquire about the possibility of the wedding being held at sea, on the cross-channel ferry to France.
(source)
“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible” - Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life (2008)
"We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required." - John Lennon
1974:
“After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”
“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.””
— May Pang, Loving John (1983)
1978:
Wings album "London Town" is released. It includes the song "Cafe on the Left Bank", the lyrics of which clearly refer to John and Paul's trip to Paris.
Late 1970s: John is singing to Paul about Paris in a home recording.
1994 - Paul inducting John to Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:
“And then on your 21st birthday you got £100 off one of your rich relatives up in Edinburgh, so we decided we’d go to Spain. So we hitch-hiked out of Liverpool. And we got as far as Paris, and decided to stop there for a week. And eventually got our haircut, by a fellow named Jürgen, and that ended up being the ‘Beatle haircut’.”
I also remember watching an interview with Paul about his album "Memory Almost Full" (2007). Thank you for adding, @ringompreg!
youtube
(it's like 7 minutes in) Interviewer: There is a very beautiful song called "The End Of The End", the way you talk about your whole ending, and the lyric goes: "It's a start of a journey to a much better place." You mean, better than England? Paul: It's basically a start of a journey to France. Or Spain through France. Yeah, that's what it is. It's a much better place, Paris.
Also worth mentoning:
"All You Need Is Love" begins with La Marseillaise.
"Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" contains French-language speech by BBC broadcaster Pierre Le Sève.
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vixstarria · 18 hours
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Communication
Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.
This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.
Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!
Read on AO3
Astarion x f!Tav
Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time Tav and Astarion actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.
Tav is a half-elf bardlock. I'm calling her Tav in this fic, but if you know you know.
Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst
TW: some very casual violence and murder
Approximately 3.9k words. 
“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Tav. “Let’s go!” 
The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 
“Go where?” she asked.
“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 
“Now..?”
The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.
It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.
“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”
Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.
“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Tav.
It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.
“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Tav asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 
“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”
He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Tav smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.
“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.
This… This was new, particularly in public, and Tav bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 
Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 
“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.
“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.
Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Tav told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.
“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”
“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Tav. 
“Do indulge me.” 
“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 
“Such as?” 
“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 
“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 
“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 
Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 
“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 
She said the first phrase that came to mind.  
Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Tav knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  
“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 
“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Tav gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 
“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 
“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Tav said thoughtfully. 
“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.
“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 
Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.
“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Tav. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 
They found a place to sit down.
“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Tav.
“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”
“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Tav asked quietly.
Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 
“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.
“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.
They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.
“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 
Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 
It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 
“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 
“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 
“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 
“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 
She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 
“Stay and do what..?” 
“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”
“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”
“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 
“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 
They sat in silence for a while. 
“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 
Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 
“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 
“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 
“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 
“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 
“...What?” 
“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 
She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.
“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 
“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”
“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.
None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.
“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”
“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.
“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”
“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.
“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”
Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 
Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.
They walked back in silence. 
Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 
“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 
They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.
Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 
“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Tav up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 
“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 
Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 
The leader laughed.
“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”
Astarion’s blood boiled.
He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 
“Take the ones behind,” Tav snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 
He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Tav spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.
The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 
The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Tav followed behind him.
The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 
Astarion turned back to witness Tav standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.
Tav barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 
A domination spell. 
Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.
 “Kneel,” Tav commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.
“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 
Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 
“…What?”
The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.
“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.
“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…
He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 
“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”
She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.
“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”
“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.
“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 
“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”
She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 
“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 
“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.
“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”
“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.
“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 
She spat on the ground. 
“I’m going back to camp.”
She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.
It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 
He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 
No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?
It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.
And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.
But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…
There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.
Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.
He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 
Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 
He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 
He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.
“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.
“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.
“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”
“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 
Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.
“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”
He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.
“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.
Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.
“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.
“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.
“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”
They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading!
Series master list
Next in series - A night at the inn
AO3
~~~~~
Tag list:
@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna @mj-bites @bardic-inspo
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hazbin-fanfiction · 2 days
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Death Days
Huskerdust
TLDR; Sinners bodies go through the pain of their death every year, on the day they died. And today is Husk’s turn on a pain mobile. Husk was never one to openly give up information about himself, not unless forced to by Alastor. So, even as the hotel’s guests and patrons became closer, Husk was still fairly unknown to those other then Angel, and his boss. Speaking of the spider, he was lounging across his bar and complaining of the shoots he had to do last night. “And then this fuckin guy, right? I swear to satan hes never had sex before in his li-” “You got the day off today?” Husk cut off the man before he got a little too vulgar for his tastes. Angel blinked at him a moment, before a grin pulled at his lips.
“Yeah, why? Want a free show~?” “Im not one to ask this, but. Can you just… stay?” Husk looked at the glass he was cleaning. His yellowed eyes refusing to look into the arachnids own.
Husk hated to ask for another’s help, but if Angel could ask for his, then he could do the same. He could already feel the way his body began to crumble around him, leaving first his hands to shake and be weakened. The sensations would spread across his body throughout the day, until night fell. “Like. At the hotel?” Angel asked, sipping at the strawberry martini he always drank. “With me.” Husk clarified, “Its… today.” 
His voice was grumbled under his breath, face heating up in its embarrassment as he kept his gaze off Angels. You see, it was Husk’s death day today, March 19th. Death days were one of the many punishments of a sinners afterlife. Where ones body relives the pain of its death. For some, it was a meaningless, 5 minute sharp pain in the chest, others it was reliving the worst torture one could imagine. And Husk? Husk was considerably lucky in this department. For he died in his sleep. He felt nothing, except the crippling loneliness, and his body’s pain of aging. It wa selfish, really. Asking anyone else to just throw away a day off to take care of an old man. But he didn't want to go through this alone again. “Today? Whats to- Oh.” Angel’s eyes widened as he realized what Husk was getting at, he reached a hand over to the bartender, and his face pulled into a soft smile. “Yeah, course I can Whiskers. Anything for you.” Husk looked at the hand held out to him, and smiled faintly as he took it in his own. ~~ And stay he did, helping Husk wherever he could. He even took over the bar when Husk’s hands started shaking to much to hold a liquor bottle, and helped him upstairs when the other struggled to walk due to hip pain. An arm thrown across his shoulders, and gentle touches all around. Which lead us to now, with Angel laying across Husk’s bed, the cat laying across him and cuddled into his warmth. “Ya know. I don’t let people just lay on top’a me that often.” he started to joke, looking down as Husk looked up. Angel smiled softly. Husk’s ears were tilted back, pupils blown out of his eyes as Angels multiple hands pet at his head and back. Low, loud purrs emitted from his chest, and Angel could feel its gentle waves on his stomach and chest. He tilted his head into Angel’s hand. “That mean im special?” Husk asked, his voice a bare mumble. He had been struggling to eloquently talk since 5pm rolled around. “To me you are.” Angel leaned forward, tapping his nose against the others. “Sap.” “Says the one who came up with an entire song and dance routine to cheer me up.” “I thought we weren’t gonna mention that… that again.” Husk muttered, his head going back to being buried in the soft fur that adored Angel’s chest. Angel laughed softly, “You said not to mention it to the others. Its just us here baby~” “Hmmm.” Angel kept his gaze on Husk. his hands focusing their scritches on Husk’s head and ears. Earning louder and louder purrs from the stoic man on top of him. He felt honored, really. Death days were something that a lot of sinners kept private. They were at their weakest points then, and it would be so easy to take advantage of them. The fact Husk not only trusted him, but ASKED for his help, sent Angel over the moon. Silently, he counted the mans breaths. Watching his back rise and fall in a slow, rhythmic pattern. As the purrs quieted down, Angel’s smile tightened. He knew Husk would be fine, logically. But seeing the man like this hurt him in ways that truly and deeply scared him. Husk’s breathing began to slow, and the man shifted uncomfortably on top of him.  “Ssh… I got ya. Your okay. Your safe with me.” Angel said softly, running his hands through the others fur. Husk settled down, The gentle purrs that echoed in Angels ears started to get softer and softer.
Angel wrapped his arms firmly around the other, “I promise, your safe right now.” The words spoke in a whisper so soft that feathers would feel like rusted steel in comparison. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Husk’s breaths got so much weaker. His chest could barely rise on its own, the purring stopping completely. Angels own breath hitched, tears filling irrational eyes.
“I love you.” Angel squeezed Husk a little tighter, and the mans last breath brushed past Angel’s fur.
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musicalcastingideas · 23 hours
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Dropout Does The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals
So my theory about overlap of Dropout and Team Starkid seems to be accurate, and people seemed to like my Dropout does Nerdy Prudes Must Die post, so I'm back for another. Same method and criteria as my previous post, you can go see that if you want to know what they are. Also, I have previously done a similar list with Internet Personalities that included a handful of Dropout people, but I'm gonna try to make this one different.
Also spoilers for potentially anything in the Hatchetfield verse
Paul: Ross Bryant
Ross is a great straight man (in the comedy sense, I don't know his sexuality) while being very funny in his own right, and I think, while Paul has a lot of his own funny moments, it's very important that his character is also the more normal guy reacting to the madness around him. Also, he would slay the Jekyll and Hyde homage that is Let it Out.
Emma : Siobhan Thompson
I think one of the essential parts of Emma's character is an underlying exhaustion with the world, and that is very Adaine Abernant and Ruby Rocks, so I think Siobhan would embody that very well.
Charlotte: Vic Michaelis
I don't think I've ever heard them do a transatlantic accent before, but I just have this gut feeling they'd be so good at it.
Ted: Ify Nwadiwe
While I do genuinely think Ify would be great in the part, if I'm being fully honest, this casting is because I (despite my better judgment) find Ted Spankoffski hot, so casting arguably the hottest man in Dropout in this part makes me seem less damaged for being attracted to the self-proclaimed sleazeball. Also him and Vic seem like they would be great playing off each other.
Bill: Brian "Murph" Murphy
He just has "refuses to drink during the apocalypse so he can be the DD" energy.
Mr Davidson: Brian David Gilbert
Since I'm splitting up all the parts, this basically turns Mr Davidson into a Princess Track where the actor just shows up, sings about desire and being choked while he jerks off, but laments how he can never achieve his dreams, and then pretty much leaves, and I don't know why, but that seems right up BDG's alley.
Melissa: Lisa Gilroy
Lisa Gilroy seems nice, but also kinda scares me, and those are the correct vibes for Melissa (#heymelissacore)
Sam: Jacob Wysoki
My only concern about this casting is that he'd go SO HARD in You Tied Up My Heart that he would keep breaking the handcuffs and/or chair, but that's fine, it would be worth it.
Nora: Katie Marovitch
The "Decaf?" parts of Cup of Roasted Coffee already sounds a bit like her TBH.
Zoey: Rehka Shankar
I feel like Zoey is such an underrated, funny side character in the show (I know she's a very small part, but like every line she has is a banger) and I feel like Rehka is a very underrated performer, so this is a good match.
Greenpeace Girl: Persephone Valentine
Making up the Save the Sea Turtles campaign is such a Sam Nightengale move, and also she would eat up Lah Dee Dah Dah Day.
Alice: Surena Marie
She's got a bit of a baby face (I thought she was like 25) and I think she would handle the change from Alice to Hivemind Alice really well.
Deb: Emily Axford
I'm definitely not just casting this because I want Emily to be my protective and caring girlfriend...
Professor Hidgens: Josh Ruben
I don't have an explanation for this one, this is vibes alone.
General MacNamara: Brennan Lee Mulligan
"Wear a Watch" and a song highlighting how the hivemind is essentially fascist and using the military to destroy any resistance to their regime is so Brennan core.
Homeless Man: Ally Beardlsey
I just feel like this is the part they'd want.
Dan Reynolds: Lou Wilson
Icons play Icons.
Donna: Aabria Iyengar
Icons play Icons
Hard Cuts:
Jacob Wysoki as Ted
Mike Trapp as Paul
Emily Axford as Emma
Jess Ross as Charlotte
Lily Du as Zoey
Grant O'Brien as Professor Hidgens
Grant O'Brien as Ted
Ally Beardlsey as Ted
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echoesofadream · 9 months
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IM GONNA KILL MYSELF I DIDNT KNOW JUNGKOOK CHNAGED IT INTO HER FOR THE RAP PARTS I MAKE HER NEVER THINK ABOUT CHAEATING. I really thought he sang him. changing pronouns of a lyric is all the bad things about civilization and society and heteronormative and homophobic (bc if youre that fucking scared of being perceived as gay that you have to change the song) and like kind of praxis of affirming your gender so strongly like you have to sing from a “males/females” perspective (which is homophobic too that the male perspective sings about woman and vice versa) so disappointed in you jungkook !!!!!!! you made a girl so happy when I thought you sang I make him never think about cheating! it fit you so well boy 
besides men are the ones who cheat so it doesnt even make sense
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mmmthornton · 1 year
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god, there is not enough stakhemy content out there... >:(
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annarubys · 2 years
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the one thing that always gets me about mcr isn’t the music itself but the way people respond to it. i hardly ever cry listening to any music even by them but the second i head over to the comments section underneath anything they’ve ever made it’s a guarantee. i’ve never seen that kind of reaction to any form of art and i doubt i ever will again. and literally every fan has that kind of story. idk if i had a point with this i’m just kind of thinking about it
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hidden-highlands · 2 years
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i have so many emotions, all of the time, that it feels Overwhelming, and i bottle them up so i never have to deal with being Overwhelmed only to be even more overwhelmed when i'm finally forced to feel them. tonight i think i let myself feel them without being Overwhelmed. and it was nice :')
#i think this is one of those posts where the REAL post is in the tags. but here goes#tonight i drank enough rum and coke to have drunk too much without it being Too Much#we haphazardly sang miscellaneous songs in hamish's room and made a bonfire on our front porch#mat tried to teach me how to solve a rubiks cube#and we experienced a touch of Casual intimacy without doing our usual hesitant song and dance about it. and i liked it a lot.#molly and i spent hours having a dmc around the bonfire and it was nice getting to connect#and i talked about how i'm still learning to grieve the part of me whose life was never defined by cancer#because she -- because //i// -- got so sick so young that she never really got to exist#and molly hugged me and we cried and then we belted out the lyrics to the song we were listening to#and now i'm lying in bed and my blanket still smells of woodsmoke and i'm thinking about how nice it is to Exist#and how happy i am to be here and how happy i am to be HERE#in this flat with these people where there is always something going on and you never quite know what's going to happen next#and where i feel confident enough to sing badly and to talk about my silly little 300 000-word xenoblade fanfic and not feel judged for it#because we're all out here being the messiest most genuine vulnerable versions of ourselves#and meeting each other where we are and trying to understand where exactly we're all coming from#and it feels like coming home.#i don't know where i was going with this. just that i had Thoughts and Feelings that i wanted to express#kiwi speaks#personal
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bookdragonideas · 23 days
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Here's the thing. I'm a girl, and as a girl, I really like it when girls are portrayed in fiction. Especially fantasy.
But so much fiction/fantasy mixes up 'girls' with 'unstoppable forces of female badass' and there's not necessarily anything wrong with having a character who is an 'unstoppable forces of female badass'. But it gets old real quick. And it is not the same as portraying normal girls, or having good female characters.
And that's one of the many reasons I love Avatar the Last Airbender.
Because all the girl characters have flaws and weaknesses and sometimes act like idiots or jerks. They get emotional and make mistakes. They lose fights or arguments or are just wrong sometimes. Some of them are amazing warriors, and some aren't. Some are powerful or special and some are normal, with nothing special about them.
And I Love that.
I was around the same age as Katara when I first watched Atla. And I instantly connected with her as a character. I loved her optimistic attitude and her fighting spirit. And I could relate with her anger, and with her maternal instinct. I admired her fighting skills of course, but I loved how the show portrayed her compassion and kindness, the way she could both beat up a bunch of bullies AND enjoy a relaxing day at the spa. She was a baddass warrior that should never be crossed. But she was also a normal teenage girl who had a lot of the same internal struggles and problems that I did.
(I never connected to Toph on the same level, but I did relate to her on a few things. She's an adorable trash gremlin who would commit any crime for fun and I love that. But she struggles with being both independent and letting people help her, and I still struggle with that sometimes. I've learned that sometimes, you can help others by letting them help you.)
Yue is, in my opinion, a perfect example of a type of hero that seems to be disappearing. She is not a warrior. She is not a fighter. She's not even a bender.
Yue is a perfect princess, a perfect daughter. She is extremely feminine in a rather older sense.
And she was the only one who could save the world. She gave up everything for her people. She saved everything, everyone, the entire world. Without ever becoming a fighter.
Yue is a perfect example of a girl who was never more than a girl, and how that's okay. Not every girl has to be rough and tumble and fight for her rights in order to change everything. Sometimes it's okay to just be a quiet obedient girly girl. Sometimes that's all it takes to be a hero.
And I love that. Yue is strong in her own way. She is unique and interesting. She appears in only a few episodes and yet manages to be one of my favorite characters.
Song is another great example of this. Song is a healer in a small town. We don't see much of her but we see her compassion and empathy. She is gentle and generous. A healer not a fighter.
She watches Zuko steal her ostrich horse and does nothing.
Is that because she's kind and generous and knows he needs it more? Or is it because she's a healer girl who knows she can't actually stop those two from taking the horse? Maybe neither, maybe both. I have always thought that the scene where Zuko steals the horse and only the audience knows she saw it is one of the most thought-provoking in the series.
Suki is a badass warrior woman who is an awesome fighter and good leader. She is one of the best non bender fighter we see in the entire show. She was one of the smartest, most efficient, and powerful characters we ever saw.
She kissed a boy she had just met because she thought he was cute.
Now don't get me wrong I love SokkaxSuki. Its one of the best couples in the show.
But Suki totally did the old 'love at first sight' thing. And that is awesome. Because when she kisses him she delivers one of the best lines, not only from her, but, I think, in the entire show.
"I AM a warrior, but I'm a girl too."
Being a warrior doesn't mean that she isn't also a teenage girl. She might be a fighter, but she still gets crushes and likes to flirt with cute boys. And hey, she picked a good one. Not every boy is going to come break you out of prison.
Anyways, let's have more realistic girls in fiction. And please enjoy the next 24 hours.
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ferrstappen · 1 month
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SLUT! l MV1 imagine
a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘
Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.
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Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.
In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.
You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.
You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.
Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.
Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.
As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.
“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.
“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.
“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”
You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.
Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen
Or something along those lines.
The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.
“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.
“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.
You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”
That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.
But it’s not like you wanted to.
After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.
The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.
In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.
It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.
But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.
As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.
You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.
You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.
The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.
Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
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Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
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blkkizzat · 7 months
Text
ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎
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Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader
18+ Minors - DNI
Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.
A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.
Enjoy!
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Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 
He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 
Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 
Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 
Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 
Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 
Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.
But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 
Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?
At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.
It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 
More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.
Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.
You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 
When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 
Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 
Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.
Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.
You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.
You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.
You stop dead in your tracks.
Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 
No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!
But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 
“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 
Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.
A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.
“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 
You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.
“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.
You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.
You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.
It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 
Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.
Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.
Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 
You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.
Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 
“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.
"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”
You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 
But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 
Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.
Was he also into this?
The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.
Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.
“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”
He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 
“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.
“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 
“Lost your words, Y/N?”
Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.
“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”
Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.
“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”
You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.
He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.
Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.
Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 
“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”
You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.
“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.
“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”
His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.
“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”
You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.
The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 
“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 
Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.
To your relief there was no one in sight.
Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.
“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 
Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.
Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 
“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.
ꨄ 
“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 
You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.
You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 
Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 
Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.
Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  
The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 
“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”
You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.
“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”
If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 
His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.
“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”
“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”
The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.
“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 
You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.
“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 
There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 
You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.
“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”
“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”
You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 
“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 
The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 
“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”
He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.
You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 
“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”
Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.
His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.
You were so close to release.
“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.
“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”
Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.
You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.
“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”
You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.
Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.
The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 
Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.
The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.
Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.
“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”
"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.
You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.
But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 
“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.
Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 
You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.
"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."
The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 
Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 
“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.
“Warm bath, yeah?”
“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”
You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 
You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.
Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.
You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!
You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 
However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 
Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.
“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”
Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 
You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 
Could there ever be too much of a good thing?
You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.
“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.
”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”
However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.
You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.
Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.
This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎
Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!
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withleeknow · 4 months
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my moon and stars.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting) fluff; even tho it's unedited this is still one of my favorite things that i've written on this blog so far !!! gaaaaaaah word count: 1.1k listen to 🎧: lover - taylor swift
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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nobody thought jeongin would be the next one to get married, but alas, here you are, at the reception of your friend's wedding, nursing a glass of champagne.
"come on," minho says, snatching the glass away from you and finishing the rest of it in one gulp, before he takes you by the hand and tugs you forward. "let’s go dance."
you can't even be annoyed that he basically just stole your drink. instead, you just laugh, and let the love of your life drag you to the dance floor.
he guides you to move in a slow rhythm, matching the tempo of the song that's playing in the background. it's a song that you would usually think is overrated and has been played to hell and back, but in the moment, drunk on the cozy atmosphere, you think it's nice. you briefly wonder what song you would choose for your first dance at your own wedding.
it's just a fleeting thought. you've been having those all day.
jeongin's wedding was beautiful. everything was done to perfection, and you have no doubt that most of it was overseen by his girlfriend.
nope, correction: she's his wife now.
nevertheless, you've been imagining yourself and minho in a similar setting. you in a stunning white dress. him, dashing in a classy suit. the two of you exchanging vows with teary eyes in front of your friends and families. the cats as ring bearers. sealing forever with a deep kiss and fond smiles.
as you continue to sway along to the music, you wrap your arms around minho's neck and pull him closer. there's something in the way that he's been treating you all day that makes you melt even more than it usually does. he's been more touchy; there's not a single moment where his hands aren't on your body in any way, whether it be a hand on your knee, on the small of your back, or an arm around your waist. minho isn't often overt with his affection like that; he tends to dote on you in the privacy of your own loving bubble, away from anyone and everyone.
then, there's the softness that he's looking at you with in his chocolate brown eyes. it's warm, saccharine; it makes you feel like you two are the only people left in the room even though this is supposed to be someone else's big day.
"i love you," he says suddenly, brushing his nose against yours before leaning in just a tad closer to your lips, "you mean the world to me."
it's rare for minho to say things like this out of the blue. he's a man of few words after all.
he's full of surprises today, it seems.
"what's the occasion?" you ask with a coy smile.
"no occasion. just wanted to tell you that."
you close the distance, pressing your lips against his as his arms wrap themselves tighter around your body. "i love you too," you smile against him.
he mirrors your smile, and kisses you deeper. he's so sweet today, so openly loving with you even as your friends around you watch on.
you have an inkling that maybe, just maybe, he's been thinking the same things as you.
you stay in each other's arms until the song ends, then another one, then a couple more, just basking in soothing glow of love that's covering the air tonight. minutes pass with kisses shared, until it's finally time for the bouquet toss.
minho reluctantly lets you leave his side for the first time since the morning. his eyes follow you as you move to the front of the room, standing a comfortable distance away from the bride. you've never really been interested in this kind of things anyway; you're just doing it for the sake of participation.
everyone else is engrossed in what's about to happen, their eyes fixed on the bride and the peonies in her hands, but minho is only focused on you. you, who's trying to blend in with the group of people and undoubtedly praying that the bouquet doesn't make its way into your hands. you, whom he thinks looks so beautiful, all dolled up for the special occasion. you, who made his heart stutter when you walked into the room in your pretty dress and flashed him a bashful smile. (but who is he kidding? you make his heart want to give out and run away every single morning when he wakes up and sees you peacefully sleeping in his arms.)
just you. always only you.
you, you, you.
you don't hang in the moon in the sky. you are the moon, you are the stars.
minho watches you watch the bride as she counts down from 3, then flings the bouquet up in the air while everyone waits with bated breath. it's a mess of flailing arms from what he can tell, a couple of the bridesmaids practically fighting each other to try and grab the damn thing.
you try to make yourself smaller, to duck lower so that the others could have the honor instead of you. but when the flowers come hurling toward you, you have no choice but to raise your hands and catch it, lest you want to be lobbed in the face with a bouquet of peonies.
some of the people around you sigh frustratedly, but most of the guys around minho suddenly burst into loud cheers. they clap him on the back and shake him by the shoulders but still, he remains transfixed on you and your adorable wide-eyed expression. your parted lips and doe eyes blinking fast as a rosy flush creeps up your skin.
your eyes find him in an instant, and you both just stare at each other for a moment. he reckons that you're trying to gauge his reaction, because the room is now filled with excited squeals of congratulations and half-hearted jokes of how you and minho are going to be the next ones to get hitched.
you look uncertain, still frozen in place with your hands clutching the peonies.
but then he just smiles, and it makes you smile too, your body immediately relaxing as you give him a wave using the bouquet, your shoulders slumping slightly when you release a sigh.
to minho, it doesn't matter whether you caught the flowers or not; neither of you believes in that kind of stuff anyway. it doesn't matter because he's always known that he was going to marry you, that there's no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.
it doesn't matter because unbeknownst to you, he's already got a velvet box hidden somewhere in your shared home, with a gorgeous diamond ring inside just waiting for the day it can be put on your finger.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2024]
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shadesoflsk · 2 months
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
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PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
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Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it. 
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?” 
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
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He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now? 
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
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💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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no-onespecial · 1 month
Text
The comfort in the darkest times
TRIGGER WARNING
A little summary; Play the audio for better experience, Mind games by Sickick is the song used (AUDIO WARNING) use headphones preferably, other than that, Enjoy <3
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, read at your own risk, talks about DV, virgin reader, alcohol, riding, strap usage, fingering, knee riding, cheating, ABUSE(lemme know if i forgot something)
You and Ellie have been friends ever since you two were little. Like ever since you two could remember. She has been there for you and you have been there for her. You were both almost glued to the hip since you spent so much time together. There was always a nagging feeling inside you that you couldn’t just comprehend. Like something was eating you up but you always brushed it off. It didn’t really matter to you anyways so it was best to leave it alone.
Ever since you started dating your girlfriend, Mandy, things have been different. The first months you two were together, she was amazing, kind, loving…but something changed in her at the four month mark. She started to criticize you, your clothes, actions, the way you talked, everything. At first you brushed it off as just being a little insecure or something like that but it started to get worse. Most of your friends started pushing away from you because of her. Her attitude towards everyone was mean and nasty, but you couldn’t say anything about it. It was like she had complete power over you and you were helpless. She had her eyes on you every second of the day and you couldn’t even do anything about it. Ellie didn’t like her at all but she never said anything about her because she didn’t want to cause a fight between you two. Mandy tried to push Ellie away from you and destroy your friendship with her but she couldn’t. Ellie never wanted to leave you and you didn’t want to leave her. You have known for so long so you weren’t willing to let go of that friendship. You and Ellie kept hanging around even if Mandy didn’t like that. Because she knew that you wouldn’t just drop Ellie and it would’ve been a pointless fight.
Today was a normal day for you. You were just hanging in Ellie’s place, just playing some video games and talking about random stuff. You see a text pop up on your phone's screen and it’s from Mandy.
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Ellie sees the texts and she rolls her eyes;
-”What does she want now?” Her voice is filled with annoyance.
-”Just asking me where I am.”
After you and Ellie have finished playing, you go back home. You get inside your shared house with Mandy and before you even know it or can react, she slaps you hard across the face. You move your hand on your cheek. It stung so much. You could feel tears forming in your eyes and when you pulled your hand down, there was a small amount of blood on your hand. Her nails have scratched a small gash on your cheek and all you could do is just stare at her. This was the first time Mandy has raised her hand at you and you didn’t know how to react to it.
After that, things got even worse. She would treat you as a slave, punching back and everytime she kicked you out, you would go to Ellie’s place and she would comfort you. After one of your biggest fights with Mandy, she had hit you multiple times, degraded you, spat on you and kicked you. You were a crying mess on the floor, afraid to move or even let out a sound. You were terrified of her and she knew it. She took great pleasure making your life miserable and you knew that you couldn’t run away from her. She would find you and do something more to you. Those thoughts alone terrified you so much that you decided to just do as she says so she wouldn’t get angry.
Mandy looked at you on the floor, blood dripping down your nose and tears falling down your face;
-”You look pathetic.” Her voice was filled with disgust and rage. You just closed your eyes and waited for her to do something again but she didn’t. Instead, you heard the front door opening and closing. Mandy had left to god knows where. You sat up slowly, holding your side in pain while still crying uncontrollably. The carpet was stained in your tears and blood, looking like a crime scene. You took out your phone and you texted Ellie;
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After a while, you hear Ellie ringing the doorbell and you run towards the door. She’s greeted with you, running into her arms in tears. She holds you, stroking your hair before pulling back. She notices the blood on your face and immediately gets panicked look on her face;
-”What happened? What the hell did she do to you? Are you okay?”
You just shake your head and bury your face into her shoulder. She comforts you for a little while before you two walk into the house. After you have explained everything to Ellie, she stays silent for a moment before she gets up and grabs a bottle of tequila. She puts the bottle right in front of you as she sits back down.
-”What’s that for? And where did you get that?” You stare at the bottle in confusion.
-”I bought it yesterday because I thought we could drink it together with Jesse and Dina but it looks like you need it right now.”
She offers the bottle to you, her eyes never leaving yours. You take the bottle, opening the cap slowly and taking a sip of it while keeping eye contact with her. The alcohol burns in your throat, making your eyes water a little. You get the urge to cough but you decide to clear your throat to see if it helps. Ellie takes the bottle from and takes a big sip of it as well.
You two keep drinking and just talking about the whole fight between you and Mandy, unknowingly getting closer and closer to each other. You feel Ellie’s thigh, touching yours and that’s when you realize how close you two are. Ellie leans her face closer to yours, her breath feeling hot on your skin. You glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. She looks…hot…
That’s something you never expected to think about your best friend but you did. The air gets stuck in your throat as you two keep your eyes locked with each other, your hearts pounding wildly in your chests and your breaths heavy and short. Ellie glances down at your lips and before you even know it, she’s kissing you with so much passion.
You feel her hand moving to the back of your head and the other hand grapes you by your waist. She pulls you into her lap, pushing her tongue inside your mouth, her hand on the back of your head, grabbing onto your hair. You arch your back, wrapping your arms around her neck. Ellie’s hands run down your body, under your shirt. You can feel her cold fingers, lifting your shirt up and it sends shivers down your spine. The alcohol in both of your systems is taking away all the morals you two have and you just let this happen.
It’s bad…cheating on your partner but it still feels so right. Ellie is so gentle with you. She’s moving her hands up your body slowly and gently so that it tickles. You both hear a car pulling outside and you know that if you get caught, there’s hell to pay. You quickly get up from Ellie’s lap,grabbing the bottle of tequila and hiding it behind the couch. You both run inside your closet, closing the door behind you just as Mandy gets inside the house. She’s on the phone and she sounds pissed. You are pressed against Ellie, the closet being tiny but spacious enough for the both of you. You hold your breath and just pray that Mandy doesn't open the closet door and see you there with Ellie.
You feel Ellie’s leg between your legs, slowly rising up until her thigh presses against your cunt. You almost gasp out loud but you manage to cover your mouth. She puts her hands on your hips and starts pressing your body down a little, grinding your cunt against her thigh. Your mind goes completely blank and the only thing you can do is to stay quiet.
She starts moving your hips a bit faster, sending waves of pleasure through you.* Is this how it feels like?* you think to yourself. It feels so good, too good but you know that if you make even a sound, Mandy will hear you. Ellie leans her face towards your neck and whispers in your ear, her breath hitting your neck while she still grinds your body down against her thigh.
-”Don’t let her hear you…” She’s breathless, eager to make you feel good. Mandy walks into your shared bedroom, just a few feet away from where you two are. She’s still on the phone but you can’t even hear what she's saying because you are too focused on not making a sound.
Ellie lowers her leg slowly, causing you to feel sad until you feel her hand, running under your jeans and underwear. Her cold fingers reach your wet cunt, causing you to jolt a little. She moves one hand over your mouth as two fingers enter your wet core. You’re breathless, too scared to make a sound or move as she starts moving her fingers in and out slowly. You grab onto her shoulders as she starts to move her fingers faster. You both look into each other's eyes, yours widened and her narrowed. Ellie doesn’t break eye contact with you, not even for a second. Ellie can feel that you’re close to cumming and she smiles, whispering again softly;
-”Cum on my fingers.”
That sentence was enough for you to get over the edge. Her words linger in your ears as you reach the peak. You can feel your cum, slowly dripping down your thigh. Ellie slowly pulls her fingers out before licking them. She looks you in the eye as she does so and you feel weak in the knees. It’s so wrong but also…Right.
You hear Mandy leaving the room, still on the phone as her voice echoes through the house as she leaves. You breathe out a small sigh of relief but you don’t even have time to think. Ellie is now kissing your neck, nibbling your skin softly. You moan out a breathy, slow moan as you try to push Ellie away;
-”Ellie…W…we can’t…”
-”Not here. Let’s go to my place.” She cuts you off, her voice a little raspy.
At Ellie’s place, you’re laying on her bed, naked and panting like a dog that needs water with Ellie between your legs, eating you out like she’s been starved for months. You grab Ellie’s hair, sounding like pornstars do in the films. Ellie moves her tongue slowly on your cunt, her fingers sliding fast in and out.
-”Just like that baby…say my name…” Her breath hitting your wet core.
-”E…ell….ellie…” You pant, your voice breathy and harsh.
-”Fuck…you taste so good…”
Your grip on her hair gets tighter, the feeling in your stomach getting stronger and stronger. Your clit is swollen, throbbing from the excitement and anticipation. Ellie lifts your legs over her shoulders, digging her tongue deep into your wet, throbbing pussy. Your back arches, hands falling on your sides and gripping the sheets as hard as you can, your knuckles turning white. Her tongue feels so good. The movements giving you extreme amounts of pleasure.
Ellie grabs you by your hips, rocking your body on her mouth as she’s lapping every last bit of your cum in her mouth. As you come down from your high, she kisses your thighs, biting it softly. She slowly gets up, her face red and wet. Ellie lowers your legs as she gets up. You look up to her, your mouth watering and whole body shaking. Ellie gets between your legs, resting your legs on her hips. You glance down, her strap hovering over your lower stomach.
-”E…ellie…I…I have…This is m…my first t…time…”
-”I know. Just take a deep breath and relax your body. I will be gentle. I promise.”
You do as she says and close your eyes. Ellie moves her hip back a little, hovering the tip just right outside your core. She slowly pushes the tip in and stops, giving you time to get used to it. You breathe slowly in and out, preparing yourself for what’s about to come. Ellie pushes her hip forward, pushing the rest of the strap in. A small squeak escapes your lips. The feeling of the strap inside your throbbing pussy is overwhelming. She starts rocking her hips back and front, the strap sliding perfectly. As you get used to the feeling, Ellie starts to speed up more and more.
As she speeds up even more and more, the sounds get louder. You moan out loudly, your voice cracking and breathless.
-”Such a good girl…You’re mine now…” She whispers harshly, her hands gripping your waist tightly.
-”Ellie! I…I…I can’t…” You scream out. You still can feel your cum, falling down onto the sheets. Ellie keeps pumping the strap in and out roughly, making you scream even louder, grip the sheets harder than ever. She wants you to feel good and she’s doing everything to let you know that. She suddenly stops. She pulls the strap out and lays down next to you.
-”Get on top baby.” She commands, her eyes wandering around your body. You slowly get up on top of her, your cunt feeling cold as you hover over her strap. Ellie guides the strap in. She grabs your hips, pushing you down and moving your lower body. The strap hits all the right spots, causing you to scream out her name. You grab onto the headboard of the bed, banging it against the wall while you howl in pleasure.
-”Fuck…You look so good right now…Scream my name love…” She coos as she moves her other hand down. She presses her finger down on your clit, rubbing it to give you more pleasure.
-”She could never make you feel this good. Tell me how much you love this. Tell me that i’m the only one who can do this to you”
-”Y…You’re…you’re the only one El…ellie…I…This…this feels…too good…” You whimper out, rocking your body back and forth. You feel the knot in your stomach getting stronger and stronger as you start to reach your climax.
-”Ellie….Fuck…i’m…i’m about to c…CUM!” The scream that leaves your lips can only be described as the sound that you can only hear in porn films.
-”Good girl…Cum for me…Let it all out doll…”
And at that, you let yourself to let it all out, the climax reaching its peak. Your whole body shakes violently as you collapse on top of her. Ellie strokes your hair softly, soothing you as you come down from your high.
-”You’re such a good girl.” She hums softly in your ear, letting you just lay on top of her and calm down……
Hope you liked this <3
I take requests so lemme know in the comments!
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