#Ashton's friends look nice too

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Andy Deluca

[inthepassengerside]

Halloween

warnings: oral (f), fingering, sir like once, dirty talk, cuddling before and after

a/n: this is old </3

masterlist

It was getting late. You had decided to go to a party closer an opposite side of the city with your friends—who were best friends with a group of boys.

It was a Halloween party, you had just dressed up as a simple angel. You had nothing in your closet as it was a last minute decision to go, and that was the only thing you could put together from previous years.

It was your third year of college, and you weren’t one to turn down a party. Even though you were upset at your friends for feeling the need to attend an hour before it begun, you still went. It was Halloween! You wanted to have fun.

So, you put on your white eyeliner and cute outfit and decided to go have a ball. You might have looked a little childish since your friends dressed, well, to be undressed, but, you hoped they could get some and have an eventful night. You weren’t looking for anything other than a good time.

As to the particular boys who were hosting this party, they were all nice. Calum was the closest to you guys, always checking up in the group chats and reaching out to invite you to these type of things.

None of the boys were dressed up, each in comfortable house attire. You thought it was very lame, not the type of energy a Halloween party should have.

Sometimes you felt forgotten, but it wasn’t anything towards your friends. You just weren’t as close to all the people they were. You got along with them well, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke. You had spoken to Luke less than the others, as he was a little shy, but you knew he was a good guy.

As it was getting late, an incredibly heavy thunderstorm had begun. The people in the room lessened as bodies were leaving and you and your friends helped clean up. Nobody ever bothered to stick around for that part.

“Wow, it’s incredible outside,” Michael said as he walked to throw out some garbage he picked up.

“Oh shit! What are we going to do? We can’t drive home in this. The one time we all stayed sober, too,” Your friend let out a chuckle.

As all they all talked amongst themselves they decided it was the best to spend the night. Heat rose to your cheeks. Where were you going to sleep? You didn’t like sharing rooms or spending the night anywhere other than your bed. Thunderstorms terrified you already.

You sighed to yourself and sat down on the sofa as you finished your last spot of cleaning.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. It’s a queen sized bed. There are four of you though, anyone can take the floor or we can pull out some cushions from this couch,” Ashton shrugged.

You spoke up before anyone else took the offer, “If you guys are all cool with sharing a bed I’ll just take the couch down here,”

“Are you sure? There can be enough space if anyone wants to stay in our rooms too,” Calum said.

Luke was looking at his feet. He ruffled a hand through his hair and then pulled out his phone, sitting down across from you.

“Nah, thank you, but it’s fine. I honestly prefer it,” You sent him a shy smile, to which he mirrored back.

Your eyes landed on your friends, who were each sending you apologetic looks from across the room. You also smiled their way, waving your hand, telling them not to worry about it.

Ashton sighed, “Well, it’s been a long day guys, so I’m heading up. Thank you all for coming, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone agreed and said goodnight, piling up the stairs one after another, except Luke, who wandered a few steps away into his room and shut the door.

It actually felt nice, the air conditioner kept the room cool and a comforting silence.

The only thing that sucked was the clothes you had on. You were waiting for someone to offer, but you’re sure it just slipped their minds. You were wondering if you could pull off just sleeping in your costume, but the thought of your skirt riding up and one of the guys finding you on the couch exposed made you nervous. You wandered over to Luke’s room since he was the closest and knocked on his door.

It took him a minute before he opened the door, his hair matted against his forehead and his face a little red, breathing heavy which was concerning. You decided not to dwell on it and just ask before he fell asleep. It had been a solid fifteen minutes after everyone said goodnight.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t sleep in these clothes. Do you mind if I borrow some? I swear I’ll have them back in the morning.” You rambled, biting the inside of your cheek out of nervousness. You wouldn’t feel this bad if you had talked to him on the regular, but you didn’t.

It took him a little while before he actually responded, just staring at you, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Luke opened the door wider so you could walk in. You took the time to admire the small, but comfortable room he had as you waited for some clothes. A tiny sofa chair, guitars, and posters aligned in a corner along with other items that resembled his character.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Luke, holding folded items as he extended them out to you.

“Thank you so much,” You said as you showed a small smile, “Like I said I’ll have these back tomorrow.”

He waved, “Stop, I don’t care about that. Get some sleep. There’s a bathroom along the other side of this wall for you to change.”

You glanced out the door to where he pointed and started walking towards it.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” You said to the blonde boy, making your way into the bathroom.

You set the clothes on top of the sink and started undressing. He had given you four items. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt, crewneck, and sweatpants. You put on the boxers and t-shirt and left the others on the sink folded next to your costume.

The thought of wearing another boy’s clothing made you blush, but you pushed the thought away just as fast as it entered your mind.

It was no doubt Luke was a very attractive man. You end up feeling upset sometimes that you’re not close with him because you want to spend more time with him. He’s also part of the reason you came to this party.

Flicking off the lights, you shut the door and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Ashton had brought you down pillows and covers as well.

You spent the next ten minutes scrolling on your phone before attempting to go to sleep.

———————————————————————————

Flashes of white keep you unsteady for the next half hour.

The uncomfortable couch didn’t help, the whole situation made you break out in sweats. Readjusting your position for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you ended up on your back.

Thunder roared as you jolted. You sat up, you were never going to fall asleep.

Before you could shut your eyes in effort to ease your restlessness, a door squeaked open and light dimly lit the room. Your head turned, noticing Luke standing in the doorway.

“Are you ever going to fall asleep?” He asked, tone nothing but serious.

You felt so embarrassed. You figured it wouldn’t be that obvious you were tossing and turning, but the noises of the couch creaking every time you turned didn’t help, “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

He rubbed his tired eyes, “What’s keeping you awake?”

“The storm, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He walked towards you and reached to collect your pillows and sheets, “Come sleep in my room. There’s only one window and I have thick curtains.”

“No, no, I promise you it’s fine.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep out here. C’mon.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Don’t mention it.”

You walked into his room and he put your pillows and sheets on the recliner. Walking towards it, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Um, getting ready to sleep.”

“You’re taking the bed, don’t even think about arguing it’s too late for that.”

You shook your head. “Luke I already feel guilty about waking you up. Please let me take the chair.”

You heard fake snores. Wow, okay.

You chucked to yourself. “Thank you.” Getting into his unmade bed, you flicked off the lamp on the nightstand as you both said goodnight.

Yet the thunderstorm was only getting worse. You spent the next five minutes embracing the cold sheets before realizing you were too scared to sleep alone.

You felt so embarrassed. Back home, you were able to tell one of your girlfriends to sleep in the same bed- yet share a respectable distance.

Shivers went down your spine. You had to suck it up, just for one night.

Before you could let your thoughts wander any deeper, you felt the bed dip and a faint smell of cologne. “I can see you shiver every time there’s movement outside. Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Luke was spooning you— he draped his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You could cry, really, and the last few hours emphasized feelings for this boy that you didn’t know were already there. You felt your entire body get hot, yet all tension left it at the same time. You eased into his touch, pushing your head further into the pillows which resulted to his in your neck. You swore there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, very comfortable. Thanks.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He didn’t break his position. “We’re in a really intimate position right now, so I feel like there’s no other time to bring this up, but, I really want to get to know you better. I really like you,” the blonde chuckled.

“I do too, Luke. I would love to spend more time with you.”

You swore you were dreaming. You were all alone a few minutes ago, and now you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed— with him.

You felt his fingers move to your side, the digits playing and fidgeting with your exposed skin. He untucked his head from your neck, instead moving your hair over your shoulder and kissing along the space he created.

Heat immediately erupted all over your body. God, it’s been so long— too long— since you’ve been touched.

You melt into him, arching and breathing heavy. He sits up, leaving you both on your side, but to get easier access to your body.

Luke continues suckling on your neck, making noticeable marks no doubt. He nips at your ear, creating marks down your jaw. The blonde continues his suckling for a while, going back and licking at each of the marks before flipping you on your back.

You both can barely see each other, Luke flicks on the lamp next to his bed yet it’s still so dark you can only see his prominent features.

His face is flushed, lips parted and puffed, hair disheveled. So much like when you opened the door to ask for clothes an hour or two ago.

You’re sure you look similar— you feel heat course throughout your body and you’re incredibly needy for him and his touch.

He reaches forward after admiring you for a good while. “Can I take this off?” Tugging at your shirt.

“Yes.”

You practically cry out, you didn’t want to seem too touch deprived— but damn was this getting you.

He pulls up your shirt and admires your beauty. He looks like he’s starving and you’re the only meal in the room. “God help me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, but it’s cut off quickly as he reaches down to start toying with your breasts. “Mm, such pretty tits all for me. Right? Just f’me?” You gasped, you weren’t expecting dirty talk this soon, but it was working. You were soaking your panties, you’re so sure the patch can be seen through his boxers.

“Mm, yes baby,” you moan. You were always loud in bed with each experience you’ve had. Most of the guys didn’t like it, so you tried to keep quiet this time.

Luke did the unexpected, bringing his mouth down to suck along your breast, keeping attention on the other as well. You closed your eyes, lost in bliss as he slightly nibbled your nipple. You cried out, glaring down at him just to see him already glaring up at you.

He switched, doing the same exact thing to the opposite breasts. It was going to be a long night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it.

“How wet are you?” He murmurs as he glides down your body, peppering kisses until he meets the waistband of your—his—boxers.

You’re taken aback by the question, “what?”

“How wet did you get for me?” He repeated.

“Um, I want you,” you blushed.

He chuckled, “I know you do baby, but that wasn’t my question. I want you to tell me how wet you are. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it Luke.” You want to break eye contact, but it feels impossible, the way he’s looking at you is addicting.

“Describe it to me. How does it feel?” He continues.

You moan, “I can feel it soaking my panties, Luke. It’s gushing out of me and I’m sure you’ll be able to see it through your boxers. I need it, please, I need you so bad.”

His lips part a good amount. He looks even hungrier than before, and you can tell your words tested him. The blonde wasn’t expecting you to be so— descriptive.

“Fucking christ, well let’s see then?” He sits back on his knees as you arch up for him, wanting him to see that you want him to see.

You were right, you’re absolutely soaked through and the wet patch is even bigger than you both expected. Luke sighed heavily.

“Looks like you’re right peach. Fucking drenched. You’re incredible.” You gave him innocent eyes when you looked up at him.

Boldness hit you. You wanted to say something, but debated saying it because you didn’t know if he would be into it or not. Taking a chance, you reply,

“Are you going to clean up my mess, sir?”

What were once oceanic blue orbs turned to navy, all you could sense was lust. Luke wasted no time. Ripping off his boxers and your panties in one go.

He lay flat on his stomach before diving right into your core. You slammed the palm of your hand onto your mouth, moaning right into it.

Right away, he rips your hand off your mouth and puts it into his hair. You tug at his locks. The strokes if his tongue were going back and forth between your entrance and clit. You glanced down at him and it was the biggest mistake, his glare towards you was enough to make your head fall right back to where it was on the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

He sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth, and it’s impossible to not hear the slurping. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, in fact, you think this is the first time someones ever gone down on you. You bite your lip to surprise your moans, but it barely works.

Luke switches up, his mouth going down to push into and lap up at your core, cleaning up all the arousal that’s pooling out of you. He brings his fingers into the mix, thumbing at your clit and rubbing circles so roughly.

He continues his assault on your pussy in the most euphoric way. He sits up, his fingers still pumping inside of you.

“Baby, thinking about all the things Im going to do to you when you’re mine.. G’nna fuck this tight little pussy so good, so hard..”

You groan, “Please baby. Tell me how, tell me.”

“Mmm. Fuck you messy n’ tired. Take you from behind, slowly, and feel you up, kissin down your back. Or I’ll have you so good that you cum so much it hurts, but you still ask for more.”

He puts his mouth back on you and you cum right then and there. It’s such bliss you don’t understand how someone could ever make you feel like this. Flashes of white flash behind your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s lightning filling the room or just your aftershocks of the orgasm.

Luke is still going, lapping up your cum that leaks out of you. You’re hand that’s raked in his hair starts tugging, telling him to stop. He pulls back, coming up immediately to kiss you.

“That was incredible, thank you. I’ve never felt that before,” you compliment. He gives you a lazy smile.

You notice his erection against your leg as you sit up. “Let me take care of you?”

“Mmm, we both need sleep love. In the morning? Wake me up with it.” He smirks. Your face heats up again.

The boy pulls his shirt back over you, turning off the lamp and tucks you both into your covers.

Before you fall into a deep and comfortable sleep as Luke is rubbing your back, you think of what has just happened and smile to yourself. This event will play back in your head forever, and you can’t help but hope everything that’s happened with Luke will continue to evolve.

You hear and feel his quiet breathes, and you realize you’re not sure if you can ever sleep without him during thunderstorms again.

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd. 

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out. 

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit 

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard? 

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why! 

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side. 

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.” 

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had. 

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?” 

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?” 

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?” 

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?” 

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now. 

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.” 

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second. 

“Okay, now out with it.” 

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead. 

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?” 

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah, I would know.” 

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —” 

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.” 

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually. 

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.” 

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?” 

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.” 

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know. 

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.” 

“Why would I be mad? ” 

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now. 

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.” 

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life. 

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?” 

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating. 

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.” 

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice. 

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head. 

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. 

“You’re gonna hate the answer.” 

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.” 

“Okay, I won’t then.” 

“Oh, (Y/N).” 

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care. 

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.” 

“Does he know?” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.” 

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.” 

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything. 

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.” 

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment. 

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?” 

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.” 

“But?” 

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.” 

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval. 

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?” 

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.” 

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!” 

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right? 

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her. 

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is. 

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is. 

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower. 

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!” 

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now. 

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?” 

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?” 

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?” 

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable. 

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.” 

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.” 

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?” 

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now. 

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” 

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.” 

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up? 

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.” 

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?” 

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh” 

“You alright?” 

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.” 

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.” 

“Let me get you out of —” 

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.” 

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.” 

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.” 

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door. 

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “ 

“I don’t know shit about babies.” 

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn’t have to come here, really.” 

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —” 

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.” 

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives? 

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?” 

“Do you have beer?” 

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach. 

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that. 

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.” 

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.” 

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff. 

“What’s all this?” 

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet. 

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.” 

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.” 

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming. 

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.” 

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N). 

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.” 

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home. 

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt. 

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification. 

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference. 

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

[alisonsfics]

roommates best friend

pairing: calum hood x reader

summary: having ashton irwin as your roommate had its perks: he was nice and would always help out around the apartment, sometimes he’d be gone for months while on tour, and he had a hot best friend

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, some heated making out, minors DNI

You were scribbling down some notes in your planner when you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Ashton, your roommate, in your doorway.

“Hey, Ash. What’s up?” You asked him. He crossed his arms, leaning against your doorframe. “I’m going out to run some errands. Do you need anything while I’m out?” He asked you.

You thought for a second and then shook your head. “I should be good, thanks for asking though.” You said, smiling. He nodded and then left your shared apartment.

You returned your attention back to what you were doing.

Ashton was a great roommate. He was nice and not too messy. He was on tour often, so sometimes you had the whole apartment to yourself. You liked it when he was home though because you both were pretty good friends.

About two hours later, there was a knock at the front door. You stood up from your desk and headed towards the door. You assumed Ashton had left his key at home, which he’d definitely done a few times before.

You quickly unlocked the door. “You forget your key again, Ash?” You asked, opening the door. The door revealed someone standing outside, but it wasn’t your roommate.

A tall brunette man was standing in front of you. You recognized him as Calum, one of Ashton’s band mates. You knew his face from some of Ashton’s posts on Instagram. You both had never actually met in person, though you both had heard stories about each other.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were Ashton.” You said, feeling embarrassed. You’d always found Calum attractive, but he was your roommate’s friend. “No, that’s okay. Is Ashton not here? I didn’t mean to bother you. You’re Y/N, right? Ash’s roommate?” He asked you.

You nodded your head, giving him a soft smile. “Ash went out to run some errands. He’ll probably be back soon, if you want to come in and wait.” You offered, trying desperately to not embarrass yourself in front of him.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way. I can just come back when he gets home.” He said. Neither of you really knew how to act in this situation. You had never hung out before, and you both wanted to make a good first impression.

“No, it’s okay, I promise. You already drove all this way. You won’t be a bother at all.” You offered, stepping back and letting him walk inside. He gave you a soft smile and walked past you.

The smell of his cologne surrounded you as he walked by you. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. It wasn’t your fault that he made you weak in the knees.

“Do you mind if I go work on some stuff in my room? You can watch tv or whatever you want.” You asked him. He looked over his shoulder at you, with a look that made you feel like a schoolgirl. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll keep it down.” He told you, sweetly.

He was super nice, which wasn’t helping with your little crush. You retreated to your room and continued working on responding to your work emails.

You could hear Calum turn on the tv, and he made sure to turn it down, so he wouldn’t distract you. You went to take a sip of your water and noticed your cup was empty.

You weren’t ashamed to admit that you checked your appearance in the mirror before you walked out of your room. You fixed your hair and smoothed out your outfit.

You walked into the living room, and Calum’s eyes shot over to meet yours. He gave you yet another soft smile. It turned your insides into jelly.

You continued to walk past him into the kitchen. You caught your breath as soon as you were out of his view. You slowly filled up your cup up with water and screwed the lid back on.

As you walked out of the kitchen, you noticed Calum was watching one of your favorite shows. You stopped near where he was sitting. “You watch this show too?” You asked, looking over at him.

He quickly nodded his head. “Are you kidding? I love this show. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who actually knows anything about it.” He told you. Both of your eyes lit up as you found this common interest.

He patted the seat next to him, causing you to giggle. You happily joined him on the couch. You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up as his arm brushed against yours.

“Oh, this is such a good episode.” You said, recognizing it instantly. Calum agreed with you.

You both could already feel the chemistry between you two. You had always found Calum attractive when you had seen pictures of him, but there was something about being next to him that made him near-irresistible.

He smoothly moved him arm to rest along the back of the couch. You definitely noticed what he was doing, but you didn’t make any attempt to stop it. Calum smirked a little as you leaned in a little closer to him, but still weren’t touching.

You both stayed like that til the episode ended. Neither one of you had been brave enough to make a move yet.

Calum turned off the tv and turned towards you. “So, you’re the infamous Y/N that Ash is always telling me about.” He said, smirking at you.

“And you’re the infamous Calum,” you added. He chuckled and his smirk only grew.

“So, how have we never met until today?” He asked you, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You both were playing a very delicate game of cat and mouse. You both knew exactly where this conversation was headed, but weren’t sure who was gonna make the final move.

“We actually almost met once.” You said, only remembering the story in that moment. He cocked his head to the side, curious as to how he could have forgotten almost meeting you.

You turned to face him more, and Calum rested his hand on your knee. “Ash invited me to one of your shows and told me I could come backstage after the show to meet you all. I went to the show, but had an emergency, so I had to leave early.” You told him.

“So, what’d you think of the show?” He asked you, still with that grin on his face. You paused for a second, making him wait for your answer.

You shifted closer to him. Your legs were almost pressed up against his. “I thought it was a really great show. I also thought the bassist was really hot.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You could see Calum’s eyes grow wider. He was left speechless. “You gonna kiss me or not?” You teased him. This seemed to snap him out of his trance.

He grabbed your waist and leaned forward to connect your lips. You pulled yourself onto his lap as you kissed him. He ran his hands up and down your back. His touch felt electric on your skin.

His lips tasted like spearmint as they moved against yours. “You are so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He mumbled against your lips. You pulled away to catch your breath.

Calum had other plans. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking on the soft skin. “Oh my god,” you mumbled as your eyes fluttered closed.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. Before he could kiss you again, you stood up and grabbed Calum’s hands. “C’mon,” you told him, tugging him towards your room. He smirked at your eagerness.

You pulled him inside your room and lightly kicked the door closed.

“C’mere,” Calum said, when you both were standing next to your bed. He ran his fingers down your arms, and then lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck. “You look breathtaking.” He said.

He placed soft kisses on your jawline and all over your face, except on your lips. He let his hands slide down the curve of your back and continue until they stopped on the back of your thighs.

He effortlessly picked you up and laid you down on the bed. He crawled on top of you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

He leaned in to kiss you, but stopped millimeters from your lips. “Such a tease,” you mumbled, flipping him over. You were now straddling him, and he looked stunned. “That was so fucking hot” he mumbled.

You leaned forward and slipped your hands under his tight tshirt. You let your hands trace the outlines of his muscles. He loved the way that your hands felt on him.

“Take it off,” he encouraged you, as you balled part of his tshirt up in your hand. You smirked and slowly peeled the shirt off his large frame, pulling it over his head.

“So much better,” you said, leaning in to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Then, you both heard the front door. “Shit,” you both mumbled at the same time. Both of you had been so caught up in the moment that you completed forgot about Ashton coming home.

“Does he know you’re here?” You asked Calum, to which he shook his head no.

“Hey, I’m home.” Ashton called out.

You quickly jumped off your bed. “You stay here and put this back on,” you said, handing him his shirt.

You slipped out your bedroom door, closing it behind you. “Hey, you’re back.” You said, smiling at Ashton. He was in the kitchen putting away some groceries he had bought.

“Can we maybe talk about something?” You asked him.

He turned around to face you. His face changed from one of concern to a smirk. “What?” You asked him, cluelessly.

“I know what this is about.” He boasted, still smirking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he really know about you and Calum? “What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with the hickey on your neck.” He said, chuckling. Your eyes went wide as you quickly tried to cover your neck with your hand.

“So, thank you for giving me the roommate courtesy and letting me know about the guy in your room, but don’t worry about it. Calum and I are gonna hang out today, so I can just ask to hang out at his place and you can have the apartment all to yourself with your new friend.” Ashton told you.

You would have really appreciated how considerate he was being if the circumstances were different.

“No, you don’t understand, Ash.” You started to tell him, “you know the guy.”

It wasn’t out of the norm for you both to discuss your love lives. Ashton knew all about your ex-boyfriends, and you had had plenty of awkward conversations with some of Ashton’s flings who stayed the night.

“Is it Jonathon? He was such an ass to you. I can kick him out if you want, but don’t get involved with him again.” He asked you, referencing your semi-recent toxic ex-boyfriend. You quickly shook your head.

“Ash, it’s not him, I promise.” You told him, still having trouble actually telling him who it was.

“So then…” he said, trying to think of who it could be.

“Ash, it’s Calum.” You confessed. That was the last answer Ashton expected to hear. “Wait…you and Calum? When did you both, wait what?” Ashton asked, his shock was very clear to you.

“He came over to hang out with you, but you were out. We were watching tv and then we started talking and, I don’t know what happened.” You explained.

Ashton chuckled. “I know what happened,” he said smirking.

“Cal, you can come out.” Ashton called out. Calum walked out of your room with a slightly awkward expression. “Hey, man.” He said, softly.

“Y’know, me and the guys have actually been talking about ways to set you both up. I guess you both had that covered though,” Ashton said, chuckling.

You all paused, not knowing what to say next. Ashton was having a blast with how uncomfortable you both looked.

“Alright, this is sufficiently awkward enough. You both should go hang out, like you had planned.” You said, trying to find a way to end your embarrassment. They both nodded, agreeing with you.

“I’ll go wait in the car and give you both a sec,” Ashton said, winking at the two of you. Once he walked out the door, Calum turned to you.

“Sorry we got interrupted,” Calum said, kissing the inside of your palm. You gave him a soft smile. “That’s alright. Ash is going on a date tomorrow night if you want to bring me over to your place. You got any roommates?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “Nope, no roommates.”

“Perfect, then we should have the place all to ourselves.” You whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. He leaned in so his lips were inches away from your ear. “I’m looking forward to it,” he whispered softly.

You felt goosebumps spread all over your body. He gave you a peck on the lips and headed for the door.

“Oh, wait. One more thing,” he said, walking back over to you and pushing you against the wall. You felt your stomach do a flip as he did it.

“Y’know how you said you only got to see part of the show last time?” He asked you. You nodded your head.

“We have a show in a few weeks. You should come, and then afterwards, maybe you could fuck that bassist in his dressing room?” He whispered in your ear.

“I would really like that,” you said, pressing your lips against his. He smiled at you and squeezed your hand and then left with Ashton.

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Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests CLOSED

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have nine fics dealing with Grief or Mourning -dealing with the losses in the recent episodes of Critical Role, older losses, and imagined losses still in these character's futures. Check them out beneath the cut, and remember to comment and kudos if you like them!

divorce the first by Ink_Beneath_Her_Fingernails (3496,Not Rated) Warnings: Brief mentions of Molly's death, but it's not a focus. Pairings:

Common is the only language all of the Nein share, but it's not the first language of any of them.

Reccer says: There's such an aching sense of longing and grief and mourning in this fic that leaves you with the feeling of an old pain, almost too small to bother dealing with, not that you even could, but every day it sticks around like a rock in your shoe. It manages to slip under your defenses in a way fiction about things like death can't always do, while still touching on loss. There's also some really excellent development of worldbuilding and Wildemount here.

Proud by awaytobeunshaken (557,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast

Beau isn't sure how to feel after her father's death. Caleb tries to comfort her anyway.

Reccer says: I liked it

a white and soundless place by BeatriceEagle (7064,Teen) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Pairings: Una Ermendrud & Caleb Widogast

A portrait of grief, from either side of the thing.

Reccer says: Una and Leofric feel like people, rather than saints.

psychopomp by hydraxx (3357,General) Warnings: Pairings: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Essek comes back to visit Blumenthal over the centuries after Caleb dies, while a long series of local innkeepers observe his mourning process.

Reccer says: It's a really sweet look at how Essek processes losing one of the people important to him, with background worldbuilding!

A Wisdom Without Face or Name by violettressed (17280,Teen) Warnings: major character death Pairings: Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss, Artagan & Jester Lavorre

Jester Lavorre spends a lifetime learning how to let go.

Reccer says: A great fic if you need a cry - there's little sparks of humor left by everyone being in character that make the entire thing even more heartfelt

Things to Do in Whitestone When Your Best Friend is Dead by untropicalisland (3038,General) Warnings: major character death Pairings: Ashton Greymoore & Laudna, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Ashton Greymoore

Ashton tries to make sense of FCG's death while the party regroups in Whitestone following their return from Ruidus.

Reccer says: Ashton and FCG's relationship was so great, it's nice to see something that's got Ashton processing their death. And the Percy and Ashton's dynamic is pitch perfect and *chef's kiss*

Synonym for Tragedy by thetickingclock (1060,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Orym/Dorian Storm, Fearne Calloway & Orym & Dorian Storm, Dorian Storm & Cyrus Wyvernwind, Dorian Storm & Dariax Zaveon

Dorian and his brother. The music is different now.

Reccer says: Beautiful and haunting

like wildfire, it starts in my chest by ellis (ellabellachicketychella) (1523,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Dorian Storm & Cyrus Wyvernwind, Dorian Storm & Dariax Zaveon

If this is grief then the poems got it wrong-- or, i love how dorian's grief is rage so much. i wrote a little about it

Reccer says: A brilliant character study of Dorian after episode 93

To hold, to cut by thetickingclock (1665,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

A series of vignettes about the coping with grief through shared work

Reccer says: It felt true

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be focusing on Fjord Stone! Know of something focusing on his backstory, or maybe his interior life during the campaign, that orphanage heist that happened after? You should rec it!

After that, we'll be changing things up a bit. Mentorship will be happening on the 15th, but after that, we're going to switch to a twice a month schedule - starting with Scanlan.

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

Oh! Also! Critter Gen Week is happening! We've been using the themes for our reclist - so if you're inspired by what you're reading, consider writing (or making art) for that week!

[lakesbian]

after following your entire liveblog I still dont know what ashtons deal was at all. do you have particular thoughts on the guy

i like ashton!! i think his deal is very simple and that's why wildbow was never able to fuck writing him up. he's just a little emotion-affecting pheremone-releasing mushroom shaped like a boy whose job is to be a special good little likable sir that contributes to the social manipulation side of what the lambs do. and he's also accidentally autistic due to all of that. he's like helen in that he's got some different parameters for how he processes the world, but he's still earnest and straightforward enough that it's really easy to understand him if you just know what parameters he's using. like, he really loves Colors And Patterns (autistic mushroom boy), so he cares about his breakfast having interesting bright colors in a spiral more than he cares about how it tastes. but it's not actually that alien, because like everyone else, he still wants his breakfast to be nice. he just wants it to be nice in the way that he considers to be nice.

his habit of, uh. looking at environments and people and using his Very Strong Imagination to mentally take everything apart, often in terribly violent ways, sounds weird at first blush yeah. but it's not like he actually goes around murdering people badly, because he understands that murdering people badly means that they die, which is bad for multiple reasons. contenting himself with staring out windows for several hours is weird, but he has a brain (or brain-like organ that is not a brain, to be more precise) that processes the world in a way that makes it like fun sight-watching for him, so actually it's perfectly understandable under those circumstances.

he likes hugs from his big sister helen, because they're nice and warm. he likes having conversations with his friends and trying to help them. he likes a children's book series that helps him understand the world and how he can interact with it. he likes trying to be polite, because being polite is good, and he likes when other people remember to be polite, too. he's just a funny little vat-grown mushroom boy whose methods of parsing and interacting with the world converge near-identically on autism. completely solid and endearing and fun character on every level who wildbow never managed to ruin....he truly is helen's little brother

[longlivedelusion]

hiiii I really love your ashrym fic 🥺 they're so perfectly written that it like actually hurtssss. I was wondering if you'd been open to maybe writing a dorym fic? not sure if you do that pairing but id love like an angsty fic turned comforting at the end? just cause with all the new stuff that's gone on, and how dorians not really opening up as much as he used to with orym (and now braius!)

so yeah like whatever you want with that, just want someone to write my sweet bois cause i miss them 😭

Thank you so much!! 🥹 My friend, I am a Dorym truther. I love Ashrym, don't get me wrong, but I was more Ashrym early campaign. Now, especially having watched EXU, I get it. I get it. (Will always love me a little Ashrym tho)

I love this request though! Happy to oblige ~ It's just a quick little something, but hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

SPOILERS AHEAD UNTIL LIKE EP 101 OF CAMPAIGN 3 <3 you've been warned.

The Distance Between Us (Dorian x Orym)

Angsty, hurt/comfort vibes. Nice ending.

Warnings: mention of grief, death, insecurities. Spoilers up until cr3 ep 101

Orym nearly crash landed into a tree, the force of the sudden teleportation spell from Essek causing the Hells to shoot across this new space. He grunted, slowly pushing himself up as his fists sunk into snow below him.

The air around them was cold, colder than it had been in Aeor where they were moments before. He felt the soreness in this muscles as he pushed himself up, a reminder of the battles they'd just had. A Greater Demon, Ludinus, the fall of Aeor… gods. And a new apparent member of their group, as a 6-foot minotaur now stood and shook off the snow like it was nothing. Orym stood, turning to see his friends all paired off already, trying to figure out where they were, what the hell just happened.

After quickly assessing the area and seeing no dangers, he looked to Fearne. He watched as she blinked her eyes up at the Teven, Champion of Hells, held out his hand for her. Unsure of his presence but also clearly enjoying his attentions, she grabbed his hand and stood up, wiping the snow off her dress.

Ashton was not too far off, their eyes darting between the two while they huffed up. Crossing their arms, they sizing up the new members. Essek looked exhausted, and slightly overwhelmed by the new information. Imogen was right beside him as Laudna creeped behind. Unsure.

And then Braius. With Dorian.

He watched as the minotaur reached down to help the air genasi up, with such a force that their chests collided on impact. There were awkward laughs, some flirtatious eyes and a large hand still settled on the lower back to steady Dorian. Fingers teetering on the edge of chiffon.

Hands that easily fit, bodies that easily fit. A better fit, perhaps for Dorian.

He shook his head, trying to let go of the insecurities. They barely knew each other and truthfully it didn't matter. It'd never work out anyways.

Orym's body grew colder than before, the chills settling into his very bones. But he knew the temperature hadn't changed.

He made his way to the group, aiming for Fearne as he sidled up beside her with his arms crossed. One thing at a time.

“So… what the hell is this contract?”

After a series of arguments and discussions about the fact that Fearne was now contracted to the Lord of the Hells, and that we also had another follower of said Lord of Hells now in our midst. That the weight of everything we'd just seen shedding new light on the gods changed things. We eventually settled on the fact that this would need to be discussed further with the Tempest, with everyone else.

So they now all settled around the Essek's magical hut, each separated to process everything. Too much had happened and too much had been seen.

Orym’s own body was worn, not just from the physicality of what had just happened, but the emotional toll it had taken on him and his friends. He could see the guilt lined on Chetney’s face, the heaviness of his shoulders bearing down at whatever he had seen in his vision. A lot of the group had been shown things that played on their insecurity, according to Teven, but none of them took it as hard as Chetney seemed to. Or Dorian.

He looked to his old friend, the deep creases in his brow a new sight. At least, as of late. He was curled over his knees, sat on the ground. Alone. Deep in thought.

Before it would have been easy to go up to him, talk him through whatever he was going through. Hell, Dorian might've come to him even first. But this was before Dorian left. Before he came back and looked like a shell of who he was, empty smiles and hollow eyes that became the new normal. He hadn't relied on Orym since his return, not really. Not truly opening up, despite their attempts to talk and reconnect. It felt awkward and strange and Orym didn’t know what to do.

He could leave him be, let him work out his things. Or, he could push his own insecurity aside and…

“Hey.”

Dorian’s eyes looked up at the soft sound, sending him a tired, tense smile. “Hey.”

“Mind if I sit?” Orym gestured to the space beside him.

Dorian nodded, his arms reaching up as he stretched his back and legs out. “Of course.”

Orym sat down, far enough away but still close enough so that they could talk without being overheard by the group. He looked up, Dorian's tired features looming over. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Dorian said, his voice taking on an air of innocence.

“Whatever. What happened in there, before, anything.”

Dorian just gave off a charming smile, not even making eye contact as his hand quickly grasped Orym’s shoulder and dropping back into his lap. “It’s nothing important really, don’t worry about me. How about you, you ok?”

Orym sighed. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m ok Orym. Really.” He kept the charming smile, but noticed Dorian's hands tighten and flex.

Orym made a point to look at his hands. “Yeah?”

Dorian's hands quickly moved up and behind his head, trying to play it off. “Yeah, absolutely. Thanks for checking in though.”

The two sat in silence for a time, small whispers and wind the only sounds filling the space. Orym’s mind drifted, filling with memories of the past of his time with Fearne and Dorian. Curled together on their travels, the ease of which they told each other things, looking out for each other. Then everything happened with Opal, and the gods, and his brother… It made the distance between them seem like an ocean. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap, had struggled to since he'd returned. If he was the one meant to even anymore. No matter how much he wanted to be.

“I know it’s been… a lot. There’s so much going on and we’ve barely had a chance to breathe. I know I’m the one who asked you to come here, and this is my fault that you got caught in this but... I wanna be there for you Dorian. I wanna help you if I can. Please, let me help you.” Orym’s voice came out breathy, desperate. Similar to the voice he had the last time he sent a message on the sending stone.

Dorian spinned to face him, his face now open in shock. "Orym, no, I-" He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. “I don’t know how I feel. Angry? Confused? Helpless?" He paused, words caught in his throat. "They had a chance to destroy them, to end the war, to leave and they-“

The halfling reached over, a comforting hand tentatively touching his knee. Dorian’s shoulders began to shake as he leaned his head forward further to cover his face. Orym's grip tightened as he listened.

“It’s the god’s faults. They did this. They had a chance to leave, to stop their siblings, but they just stayed. And now because of that Opal is controlled by the Spider Queen, Fy’ra probably too, and Cyrus- Cyrus is dead. He’s dead. Because of them.”

Orym didn’t know what to say. He knew grief, the earth shattering loss, knew his own confusion with the gods, but... He also knew how he had been helped by some of them as well. He couldn’t condemn them all for their mistakes, for the good they've done. And would Ludinus still have done and been who he was had there not been gods?

“This is all really confusing. It’s a lot.” Orym said, voice more resolute. “I don’t know what the right answer is after all of this, since it’s something that’s not so black and white. At least, I think. No matter how much as we want it to be. But we will figure it out Dorian, we’ll find a way to make this right. Or as right as we can.”

He looked up to Orym then, his eyes slightly bloodshot from tears but fierce. He could see the hint of anger, devastation, uncertainty. Stains marking down his skin, carrying down his neck. Orym wanted to reach out, so badly to wipe away his pain.

“I don’t know what’s right anymore.” Dorian said, his voice raspy yet the lull was still music to his ears. To hear him speak at all, to hear him be open with him again.

Orym reached up then, insecurities be damned as he wiped away his friend’s tears making the genasi stiffened slightly. “We’ll figure it out.”

Just as Orym was about to pull his hand away he felt a large blue hand encompass his own. Dorian’s eyes met his and he felt his body both warm and freeze in place at that moment. He watched those harsh blue eyes now soften, as Dorian whispered out. “I’ve missed you Orym, truly.”

Orym’s heart was beating so fast, a steady drum against his chest as he swallowed his nerves down. He couldn’t find the words in that moment. All he felt was Dorian’s hand curl around his own. He felt as it was pulled away and down to the ground beside them. Dorian's fingers slowly unfurling before Orym held them back, keeping him in place.

It felt like a dance, seeing who would let go first.

The Halfling struggled a moment, his voice getting caught in his throat as he gazed upon this man. This man he...

“I’m glad you’re here. So glad." Orym choked out. "Even if this all goes to shit, I’m just- I’ve missed you too. So much.”

[lovebombs4life]

"Why should I wear anything at all if you're going to tear it off?" With Luke PLEASE

beach day - l.r.h

a/n: thank you for the request anon! on a different note, i got my lip pierced yesterday and holy shit does it hurt like a bitch.

cw: SMUT SMUT SMUT. contains content for audiences 18+. includes swearing, slight choking, praise, dom!luke, fem!reader, oral (m), p in v sex.

NOT PROOF READ

MINORS DNI. 18+!!!!

———

the hot summer sun beat down on all of us sitting on the beach. as much as i loved the summer and being at the beach, i did not want to be here when it was hotter than hell.

ashton could’ve chosen any other day of the year to go to the beach but no, we all had to go today on the hottest day of the year. not to mention that luke looked incredibly sexy, as per usual, but with the sun shining down on him, he looked good enough to eat.

i sat in my beach towel, still wearing my long cover up shirt. i finally threw it off, grabbing my bottle of sunscreen. luke had been in the middle of laying out his towel, and i could hear him take a deep breathe as i threw my shirt to the side.

you’d think after dating for five years he’d be used to seeing me in a swimsuit, but everyday with him feels like the first.

he sat down on his towel before laying down on his stomach. i had to clench my thighs together seeing him like that. what can i say, im a whore for his back muscles. plus, you could still see some of the light scratch marks i had left on him the other day.

i put my head down in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. i needed to get my head out of that space before i tried climbing on him then and there.

“you alright, y/n/n?” luke questioned with his head turned towards me. i nodded quickly and smiled at him. “of course! just really hot out.” i reassured him.

he smiled as he sat up to face me. “are you sure darling? seems like theirs something on your mind?” he pressed with a smirk on his face. my mind was screaming at me to give in to him and tell him already that i just wanted to go home and fuck him, but i wanted to do some teasing too.

i nodded my head again, standing up to go to the water where most of our friends already were. “hey y/n! nice of you to join us!” crystal teased me.

“oh shush. luke is being kind of a pain.” i said lowly. she raised her eyebrow, indicating she wanted to know more. i glanced back at luke, seeing that he was walking over to the group to hangout with the boys.

“he knows he has an affect on me of course. after five years we still act like we’ve never touched each other, and like we’re starved for touch.” i explained.

“ohhhh, okay so you’re horny and he knows but you don’t want to do anything cause we’re in public?” she questioned louder than i had hoped.

“shush! i don’t need everyone in the damn beach hearing, crystal!” i panicked. she threw her head back laughing, thinking it was hilarious. i rolled my eyes at her.

“you’re lucky i don’t push you into the water.” i spoke. she kept giggling as we made our way to the boys who had been splashing at each other.

calum was wrestling with michael as luke and ash just watched, laughing their asses off. i stood back a few feet so i wouldn’t get drenched. but of course, things couldn’t go my way. luke grabbed me quickly before running farther into the water and dropping me in.

when i resurfaced he was running away to go back to the sand. “you’re not getting away with this!” i yelled at him, swimming back to the land. i chased after him, holding down my chest as i did so. i knew as it is, my ass was almost completely showing as my bottoms had wedged their way up.

he had turned around and ran back to our towels, and i followed behind him. he had finally stopped and sat on the towels, catching his breath. “i couldn’t take running anymore, especially seeing how sexy you look in that bikini.” he whispered in my ear, grabbing my thigh. i giggled a bit.

“want to make an excuse to get out of here?” i questioned. his eyes widened, not thinking i was serious. “really? what would we even say?” he asked. i shrugged.

“say that my ankle started to hurt after running after you.” i shrugged. he nodded and stood up to tell our friends we’d be leaving. i started throwing our things in our beach bag. when luke returned he grabbed my swimsuit coverup and handed it to me. “why’d you give this to me? could’ve thrown it in the bag.” i told him.

“i just thought you’d want to get covered before walking back to the car.” he explained. i got closer to him, grazing his ear with my lips.

“why should i wear anything at all if you’re going to tear it off?” i teased. he threw his head back slightly, groaning quietly. i smirked, knowing i was in for it.

we walked back to the car quickly, throwing our things in the trunk. i settled myself into the passenger seat as luke started the car. immediately his hand was trailing up my thigh. i shuddered as he grew closer to my heat.

“nothing to say now that we’re alone? not gonna be a tease?” he taunted. i shook my head quickly, hoping he’d go further. “use your words, darling.”

“no, nothing to say, just want you.” i breathed out as he started to rub me through my swimsuit. i looked over at him, seeing his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. i could see the veins in his hand, wishing those gorgeous things were wrapped around my throat.

i shifted my legs so he could have more access from where he was. just as i thought it was going to go further, he pulled his hand away. i whined at the loss of contact. “no whining baby, just a few more minutes then we’re home.” he comforted.

i wasn’t one to listen, and whined again anyway. “do that again and you won’t cum for a week.” he spoke sternly this time. my eyes went wide, and i went quiet.

“yeah that shut you up real quick, is that right my sweet girl.” he praised. “yes.” i spoke softly. “yes? yes what baby?” he asked.

“yes sir.” i groaned. his smirk grew wide. we pulled into the driveway, scrambling to get out of the car. once at the front door, like quickly unlocked the door before throwing his keys on the side table. he pressed me to the door, holding my hips.

he went at my neck, licking and sucking lightly. i threw my head back at the feeling. he trailed his fingers down my waist, pulling my bikini bottoms down painfully slow. “please, please don’t tease lu.” i begged.

he lifted his head from my neck, looking down at me with a dark smile. “such a good girl for me. didn’t even ask you to beg.” he kissed me softly. once he pulled away, he pulled my bottoms from my legs, and went to untying my top.

his hips pinned me to the door, allowing me to feel how hard he was. “please luke, please no teasing baby i just need you, i want to make you feel good.” i pleaded. he let out a deep breath, squeezing my breasts as he threw my top on the floor.

i moved my hands down to the draw string of his swim trunks, untying it quickly. “want you so bad.” i said, lowering to my knees as i drug his shorts down his legs. his dick sprung out, the tip leaking with pre-cum. he stepped from his shorts kicking them to the side.

i grabbed his length, kitten licking the tip. i watched him through my lashes, seeing him throwing his head back. his hands found their way into my hair, gripping on to me. “feels so good, fuck, such a good girl.” he spoke, thrusting his hips forward a bit.

i gagged as his dick went down my throat. i breathed in, shoving him as far as i could take him. as i did so, he let out a loud moan. i pulled back from him, still pumping him. saliva hung from my lip as i smiled up at him.

“taste so good sir, love making you feel good, love your moans.” i breathed. he put a hand against my throat, squeezing slightly.

i moaned at the pressure and let one of my hands fall down to my dripping heat. before i could get any further, he helped me stand up, and lifted me up, bringing me to our bedroom.

he laid me down, rubbing his hands up and down my body. “so beautiful, darling.” he praised, kissing my body.

he spread my thighs, licking close to my clit. i moaned as he ran his fingers against my slit. i pushed my hips forward, allowing his fingers to slip in slightly. he held my hips down with his other hand.

“just wanna taste you a bit, get you ready for me.” he spoke, looking up at me from between my thighs. i shook my head fast. “just want you, don’t need you to get me ready. already so wet for you, sir, just need your cock.” i begged.

he groaned, grabbing his dick and sliding it against my entrance. he pushed in slowly, causing me to moan loudly. “doing so good for me, begging and being such a little slut for my cock.” he spoke, sucking on one of my tits.

his pace quickened, causing my eyes to roll back. “fuck, y/n, feel so fucking good. so wet, so tight, ugh, think youd be used to my cock already after fucking you so good.” he moaned. i let out a high pitched sound as he grabbed my thighs hard, pounding into me.

“oh fuck, i- gotta, ohh, gotta cum sir.” i moaned, trying to keep my composure. he forcefully snapped his hips into me, dragging one hand down to my clit, rubbing quick circles.

i let out a pornographic sound as he slammed into me. i clenched around him, my breathing becoming shorter. “go on baby, come on. cum for me, my sweet girl.” he encouraged, squeezing my throat.

i felt him twitch inside me, knowing he was close too. i kept clenching against him, letting my thighs shake as i moaned from the pleasure. his hips started stuttering, but kept his pace.

“fucking hell, oh shit!” he spoke as i felt his cum paint my walls. he pulled out, letting his fingers collect mine and his cum. he brought his fingers to my lips, and i opened for him, sucking everything off his fingers.

he sighed, taking in the sight. removing his fingers from me, luke laid down next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “god you’re perfect, y/n.” he spoke, pressing a kiss to my head.

“i suggest that you never wear a shirt ever again and just let me look at your back muscles.” i laughed.

“yeah? maybe i will if this is what the end result will be.”

[unicyclehippo]

Cinnamon

the reunion is noisy, confusing, bloody, harsh, fractured in the manner of the world now. ashton yells, their voice a crack of triumphant thunder. fcg is a whir of blade and shining metal and—legs? orym smiles, for the first time in days, certainly. weeks, perhaps. she can’t recall how long, only that she has missed it. chetney is himself, and then half of himself as the wolf splits his chest and lunges out to crunch jaws around the head of the elongated red threat.

imogen.

at the sight of her, the fractured world regains an anchor. there may be a rift in the world, there may be an egg-cracked moon, their compasses may spin and turn, untethered, but laudna needs none of that when imogen is back where she can see her.

laudna cries black tears and the roots of her dreadful form creak, wrapping around her skull, following the same path. it makes a spectacle of her, and it’s own hunger, forms a crown of creeping roots that tangles in her hair and branches shoot out, soot-black, scorched, jagged and tearing across the soft grey of the afternoon sky.

they fight. they win. there are hugs and drinking and food and safety, or what passes for it these days—a flood of information gathered about the encroaching danger and everything they had missed, separated—lightning lizards as big as a fuckin’ sky ship—oh shit what happened to xandis d’you think—these pits in the fucking ground, right, and cliffs like fucking knives and it steams up burned the shit out of me look at my fucking elbow it’s half fucking melted—saved a sacred bull—killed an angel of the dawn father—run that by me again you did what now?—ran—climbed—lost a goddamn nail but orym was a peach and found it for me—fought—fought—fought—prayed—bled screamed killed searched cried fought—

‘but you have reconnected now,’ FCGs friend (companion?) commented, with a gentle lilt to their tone. ‘i have no love of the gods, but to borrow a word of theirs, i find that to be miraculous.’

‘yeah. yeah, you’re right, FRIDA,’ FCG nodded. ‘it is pretty miraculous, isn’t it? don’t they have such a way with words?’

they held hands. ashton, who had been glaring mildly at FRIDA since they were first introduced, continued to glare. it was, laudna thought, rather nice of him to be so welcoming to FCGs new companion.

‘yeah,’ ashton grunted. ‘they’re super.’

FCG beamed.

‘and this must be your laudna,’ someone said, and laudna looked over to see an armoured gnome, dark of skin and bright of smile. she directed her words to imogen—who stood a scant centimetre from laudna’s side, who had entangled her mind and hands with laudna and would not let her go—don’t leave, no not ever, missed you, missed you, looked for you, searched, ache behind the eyes searched empty, spoke to you, screamed, looked for you, messages on messages static in the head searching reaching out empty empty empty longing hollow stay here stay with me in me of me—

‘my laudna,’ imogen agrees, and her thumb slips over a knuckle, settles between two. ‘this is deanna,’ imogen continues after a moment, shame blooming pink over her cheeks. stunning. ‘she’s knits the most wonderful everything, laudna, and she’s incredible, a cleric, a healer, and—‘ imogen stops speaking aloud but in laudna’s head speaks, finally, no longer the raw and endless electric livewire between them but purposeful message. she died, a long time ago.

laudna’s grip tightens on imogen’s hand. don’t leave. ‘it’s lovely to meet you,’ laudna greets the cleric, and remembers fire and fury and fear and looks on rosy cheeks and bright eyes and full, warm, living flesh. don’t leave. ‘i’m something of a maker myself, i made this dress and some clothes for pate and sashimi, and curtains—i’m very good at curtains—and im quite fond of other mediums too, painting, i’ve done some painting, and taxidermy, gardening, woodwork—‘

‘laudna is very capable,’ imogen says.

laudna stammers to a stop. warmth curls up through her neck, her cheeks. she knows she’s gone blotchy when imogen reaches for her neck, undoes the bandana there and ties it round laudna’s neck.

gallows, rotted rope. unmarked graves. dirt beneath her nails. zealotry heavy on her tongue, tallow grease and smoke.

imogen pauses, unravels the knot before it can be tied.

bed?

laudna leans close, tilts her head onto imogen’s shoulder. they step away, making no excuses or explanations, and take a room in the inn. laudna makes tea, pack of spices in her bag from issylra. mintsharp leaves and cinnamon bark. flowers. pine needles to add to a hot bath.

‘i missed you,’ imogen croaks.

laudna stares down into her tea.

‘laud?’

a warm hand curls around her wrist. tugs her over to the bed where they sit, side by side.

‘hey.’ gentle, so gentle, the hand against her jaw. coaxing her to look at her, look anywhere near her. ‘are you alright?’

laudna nods.

‘really?’ imogen’s smile is quick—fond, undeniably, but fast and tight. ‘because i’m a fucking mess.’

laudna’s laugh is wet, as tears spring to her eyes, overflow. ‘oh i’m s-sorry, i’m sorry darling, i don’t mean to—i’m alright, really—‘

‘would you look at me?’

for a moment, laudna doesn’t. cannot. what if everything has changed? what if this is some cruel trick? not her imogen at all? a nudge to her chin, a murmur, please, and laudna flicks her eyes up finally to see her. violet nimbus. scars crawling up the length of her beautiful neck almost to her chin. the smouldering red of her fingers. the wet, longing desperation of her eyes.

her fingers twitch, skitter up imogen’s arm. laudna brushes her crooked fingers over a tear stained cheek—beautiful.

‘i’m not alright, i wasn’t alright without you,’ she admits, voice shaking, fingers shaking. she drags her nails across the soft of imogen’s cheeks; not to hurt, never to hurt, only to feel and see the white trail left behind. ‘i never wish to be apart from you. never again.’

imogen doesn’t pull away; she leans in, nods. ‘my better half,’ she murmurs.

‘my everything,’ laudna returns, and it is easy to lean in, there is no fear left in her to stop her from touching her forehead to imogen’s, from tilting imogen’s head, from pressing her lips to imogen’s. the kiss is soft and gentle and unhurried and laudna is the only frightening thing about it.

imogen laughs, picking up the thought as it curls, delicious and delighted, on the current between them.

‘my love,’ imogen says, just because she can, and kisses her again.

//

there is a knock on their bedroom door, and a quiet voice intrudes.

‘does anyone—excuse me, pardon me, so sorry for the interruption it’s just i was hoping that you might like to fill out a survey on your experience of the apogee solstice, and reuniting, if i could take just a quick fifteen, twenty minutes of your time?’

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 96

Ah, I see, so THIS is why Liam looks like a cute beatnik from a 50s jazz club ... oh boy ... he's brought back the German accent BIG TIME and it's giving me massive Caleb vibes ... meanwhile Tal's clearly having EVEN MORE fun with this ... oh my gods ... wow ... that's a DOOZY, definitely ...

Marisha (cracking up): "It sounded like there was more!" Travis: "I know!"

So ... yeah ... it was all SO HEAVY when we ended it last week ... the group is WELL on the way to imploding under the weight of what just happened in the night ... can they come back from this? This is SO WORRYING ...

Oh boy ... RIGHT BACK where we were at the end ... wow ... so it's just the two of them again ... O.O

Fuck ... now even LAUDNA can feel Delilah's starting to take over ... that's not good at all ...

This is starting to sound SO MUCH like Laudna knows she's not going to be around when this is all done ... oh man ... AND she's starting to think maybe that's A GOOD THING? Fuck ... no, really, NO ...

Imogen's trying SO HARD to keep this all together for BOTH OF THEM but I can feel her breaking too ...

Come on, Imogen, that's it, bring her back from the brink ... LISTEN TO HER, Laudna. She's the best thing in your life, and she feels the same way about you, luv. You need to buck up ...

Imogen: "I'm gonna miss our little cottage." Oh fuck ...

Ah shit ... the tissues ... yeah, that's how it is with ALL OF US right now ...

Crap ... that's right, Dorian's missed A WHOLE LOT, he doesn't KNOW about Delilah, not really ... oh, and also about IMODNA ... XD ... AND Chetney's threesome with Fearne and his ex ...

Oh yeah ... Bordor ... that was a whole bunch of wrong ... that took a whole lot out of ALL OF 'em ...

Ashton being all philosphical again abdout villains trying NOT TO BE ... yeah ... he's pretty spot on ...

Dorian: "CAN she be trusted?" Oof ...

Ashton: "You okay?" Imogen: "No." Ahston: "SHE okay?" Imogen: "No." Ahston: "Okay."

Laudna's just been having a good powerful MOPE while all of this has been going on ... yeah, of course she has ... oh FUCK OFF, Delilah. You're not welcome right now ... oh yeah, Fearne, great timing, snap her out of it!

Orym: "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you too terribly did I?" Laudna: "Oh, I think I can see a few ribs ..."

Yes ... please, come on you too, make up. You're FRIENDS, you mean so much to each other. MAKE UP. Yeah. That's it. Exactly that.

Yeah, exactly. Fuck Delilah, we just want our LAUDNA.

This is exactly it, yeah ... she's not alone, they're ALL carrying their own big mistake baggage, she's not alone in that ...

Awwwww ... Ashton's BIG SISTER Laudna ... I love it ... :3

Wow ... yeah, it may be a joke, but Chetney DOES have a point there ... Dorian's the one true innocent in the group now ... you poor sweet summer chaild ...

Nice move, Chet. Yeah, that works.

Oh, that's interesting ... yeah ... that pipe ... yeah ... that could be REALLY GOOD for Laudna right now ... go on, girl, take a puff ...don't be afraid, this can only HELP ...

And then Dorian comes in with the sweetest cap for all that ... awwww ... :3

AAAAAAND just like that Chetney's OUT. XD ... of course he is.

Spin the bottle? REALLY?!!! LOL ...

Wow ... not they're just getting ridiculous ... XD ... "Hammer time?" Yeah, that's the worst one yet ... "Chetney needs sleep"? Slightly better, maybe ...

More rest, at least ... which is needed ...

Liam'#s giving Orym a point of exhaustion for NECESSITIES ... of course he is ... wee selfless lad ... we love him but he does punish himself sometimes ...

THAT'S what the Gambler's Blade does? DORIAN!!! O.O

Essek is a bit ... MOODY this morning ... hmmmm ...

"I like pulp!" XD

Ah, so everything's ready for them ,then? Sweet ... cue gearing up montage ... LOL ... oh, and descriptions too ...

Hot Shots: Part Deux for Chetney ... XD

Oh shit ... that's right ... they're back from the Moon ... IS Orym a little different? And our boy's a bit toussled now ... yeah, that's CUTE, I'm sure ...

Imogen's wearing PANTS now? Okay ...

Dorian's wearing "THE SLUTTIEST SHIRT"! Cute ...

Nipple talk ... oh dear ... XD

Oh wow ... Laudna's kind of giving me some subtle Harrow the Ninth vibes right now ...with a touch of DELILAH too, which is ... worrying, just a little ... O.O

Ashley's alwasy SO GOOD at weaving a beautiful picture, she really is ... and a utility belt. Yeah ... :3

Ashton's rocking a CROPTOP right now? Awwwwww ... and a spike trade with Fearne, too ... cute ... ooooooh ... and "Smiley Day" ... oh man ... I love it ...

Matt makes a rather pointed "prepare your spells" statement that everybody IMMEDIATELY takes as SUSPICIOUS and I'm right along with them. What are you planning, Mercer?

Yeah ... that fucking bloody apron's just gonna leave a trail behind them THE WHOLE WAY ...

Divvying up stuff ... here we go, ten minutes of inventory bookkeeping while we wait for the game itself to start up again ... XD

Ah ... sucking up one Ring of Protection with the harness ... hmmm ...

Imogen's jealous of Essek's floating thing ... not surprising ...

Ooooh ... ExU: Calamity recap ... cute ...

A FEW tries? Oh, I don't like the sound of that ...

Wow ... they're all REALLY crossing their fingers ... XD

Rolling a D100? Oh fuck ... 14? Hmmmmm ... ouch ... oh, that didn't go well ... they went NOWHERE and took 11 points of Force damage each ... bugger ...

Second try ... ANOTHER roll ... 45? Okay ... SEEMS like the right place ... an abandoned encampment? Interesting ... oh, sounds like it's NOT where they should be, then ...

Lyrengorm? Where?

He can only do it ONCE MORE for the day? Bollocks ...

A final roll ... 61 ... MORE snow ... much colder ... Orym's ENTIRELY BURIED ... a particularly AGGRESSIVE mountain range this time ... some kind of VERY fancy castle ... oh, so we ARE in Eisselcross ... but we're not sure WHERE ... oof ...

Crap ... they've been spotted ... by SOMEBODY ... big lumbering somebodies ...

Undead ice giants? Yeesh ... yeah, better hide ... argh ...

Matt: "There's a reason you took a BOAT to Esselcross last time!"

And now it's time for a break ...

Do they run? Do they fly? WHAT DO THEY DO?!!! Hiding's obviously out of the question ... eep ...

A DISTANT Command on one of them? Risky, Imogen ... "HALT!!!" Oh, it doesn't work on undead? BALLS ...

And now one of them flung a rock ... BAIT & SWITCH!!! Nice save, Orym! Crunch ... STILL 26 points of damage ... ow ...

There's a whole BUNCH of 'em coming now ... AAAAAAAH!!!

Essek's trying a HIGHER level Teleport ... okay ... one more roll ... 48? Oh bollocks, Laura! This is so bad ...

DO NOT give Mercer ideas, Ashley! O.O

More snow ... elsewhere ... hmmmm ... Essek has no idea where they are ... great ...

Yes. Sniff the wind, Chetney ... the air is THINNER ... oh, they're AT ALTITUDE right now ... cute ... on a mountain, then ... that's just PEACHY ...

Oh, if they had something FROM Aeor? I mean THEY COULD just use a piece of FCG ...

Looking into Essek's memories, then ... O.O ... and a glimpse of Aeor ... it's all VERY dramatic ...

Aha, a specific anchoring point ... good idea ...

Laura: "Guidance? Will that help?" Matt: "No, but it's nice to have." XD

So, the Staff ... oh boy ... this could go SO BAD .... she rolls 99 for it ... well, that's ... potentially good?

A frozen woodland glade ... Huh?

Don't shoot the rabbits with your harp, Chetney. They'll only explode and that's not what ANYONE wants ...

An amber coloured dome of energy over them? Oh, yeah, that definitely rings a bell ... XD

At least it's nice and warm in here ... although they are in danger of getting buried under the snow before morning ...

Essek's just IMMEDIATELY going to sleep, then ...

Fearne, you're adorable ... :3

Chetney's going hunting. WITH THE HARP. Oh boy ...

And he shoots a boar? Oh, okay, I suppose that's too big to just blow up ... food!

There's a huge city out there? Hmmmm ... no chance that's Vasselheim, maybe?

Time for food, then ...

Another try at Teleporting, then ... roll AGAIN ... 53? Fuck ...

They land ON THE SLOPE of a mountain ... AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

Another jump ... another roll ... 46? No, NINETY-six ... somewhere icy and cold ... oh, that's it, then. They made it ... phew ...

Yup, they're here. On the VERY EDGE of the ruins, then ...

Time for Stealth, then ... group check time ... oh boy ... fucking hell, Travis ... 41?!!! How the FUCK did you do THAT?!!!

Shit ... are those more of theose undead ice giants? Oh no ... gods, bo what to know WHAT these things are ... eep ... O.O

Going down into the gloomy underground darkness ...

ICE TROLLS?!!! Lovely ... yeah, just GO QUIETLY, please ...

It's getting STUPID tight in here ... this is NOT GOOD ... Chetney's going ahead to check the route ...

Oh, that's a DROP. Great ... now what?

So they have to climb down with the rope ... great ... oh, Chet wonders if he could ICE-CLIMB down? I really don't know about that ... oh, the Immovable Rod, that shoudl be helpful ...

Yeah, this couldn't possibly go wrong ... O.O

A ruined courtyard? Fascinating ... smelling for anything alive down here ... a clean must? Strange ...

So he's climbing down, then ... okay ... the others getting down will be ... INTERESTING ...

Oh yeah, some light might be helpful now ...

Bones? Frozen into the ice underfoot? Hmmm ... that could be ... problematic ... and some bodies too ... oh lovely ... there's SOMETHING unpleasant down here, clearly ...

Wait ... WHO is this? Oh ... FUCK ... shit! Oh, that is SWEET!!! Nice callback ... O.O

So, going EAST then ...

The Praesidis Ward? Hmmm ...

A giant cavern that was once a city ... weird ...

It's getting WARMER? Hmmm ...

Fearne has a point ... this DOES look like that weird ruined city in the cavern on Ruidus ...

Wait ... there's SCARY things down here to be on the lookout for? Way to bury the lead there, Essek ...

Yeah, DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING, people ...

He became a FISH. Really? Fascinating ...

Another Group Stealth check ... generally good rolls once more ...

Skeletons? Lots of them? Great ... this place is like a necromancer's wet dream ... I really hope this isn't where Mercer's heading with this ...

Grim Psychometry? IN HERE?!!! Whoa, Chet ...

That is ... troubling and not terribly infomrative, really ...

Crap ... was that a troll?

Moving on, then ...

Weird creepy corpse ... which wasn't there LAST TIME Essek passed through ... charming ... it IS moving, but, like, RIDICULOUSLY slow? Oh, that's unnerving ...

Imogen, AGAIN, don't touch ...

Oh, this seems like a nice, fancy place ... but Essek's not taking any chances with it, clearly ... and somebody's been through here, too ... hmmm ...

HE did this? Interesting ... well, at least he hasn't lost his sense of humour ...

Another cavern ... more industrial environs this time ... fascinating ... and it's curving UPWARDS as it goes ...

The Genesis Ward ...

It just smells of metal and water ... okay ...

So we have a specific destination now, then ...

What, try to home in on Ludinus' Harness? Could that work?

Oh, so there really ARE other things moving around in here besides the group ... that's disconcerting ...

A tent? Really? Well THAT is a pretty major sign of life ... I think they may have found what they're looking for ...

Arcane Eye? Cool ...

Oh, so something happened here ... something VIOLENT, according to the blood ... and CORPSES ... Ruby Vanguard? Oh wow ... THAT'S interesting ... this was ... relatively recent, looks like ...

More of an eagele's eye view of the cavern now ... a big jagged hole in the floor, off in the distance ... great ...

Heading in to take a look at the tent, then ...

So the deaths happened within a space of DAYS, then ... it looks like they all killed EACH OTHER?!!! O.O ... whoever did this was ENJOYING themselves? Charming ... and one of them killed HIMSELF ... and apparently was very HAPPY when he did it ... that's just LOVELY ...

It's a pretty nondescript knife, Imogen ...

Grim Psychometry again, then ... oh boy ...

Oh, so the elf was the one who killed them all ... really violently, with SIGNIFICANT manic strength ... carves soemthing into his chest ... and then kills himself too ... wow ...

Chetney DRAMATICALLY unveils the elf's chest ... a sigil ... what is it, then? Ask Essek ... he doesn;t recognise it ... Laudna casts Eyes of the Rune Keeper ... no joy, it seems ... hmmmmm ...

Oh ... Laudna asks DELILAH if she recognises it ... great ... she doesn't either ... great ...

Don't take a pee on the arcane time dome, Orym ...

Something's grinding out there ... stone on stone ...

A group stelth check, but grading everyone individually as they hide? Oh boy ...

Two groups, then ... roill well, guys ...

It's VERY TALL ... oh boy ... that is DISTURBING ... that's like ... it's a hood, but it DOESN'T actually have a head? Ye gods ... and it has a VERY BIG HAMMER it's gragging behind it ... and there's LOTS of teeth in a maw in its belly ... well THAT noise was just unsettling, Matthew ...

Fuck ... a whole bunch of creepy translucent scorpion-like creatures seem to crawl OUT OF IT ... charming ... and they're searching the area ...

Laudna just gave herself away ... and they're all going RIGHT FOR HER now ... oh fuck ...

And THIS is where Matt chooses to end it ... but not before he gives us a look at the Battlemap for next session ... and it's MASSIVE ...

Oh, this is gonna be a SCARY encounter to start things off next time ... But it's the end of the month, so that's gonna be a FORTNIGHT'S wait ...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Andy Deluca

[swiftgreatest]

That Guy | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

request by anon: "Hi, I was wondering if you could write about Eddie Roundtree with the prompt #6. "This is the guy?", please. (Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language)"

a/n: hi lovee!! thanks for request, hope u like, send more request if u want and english is not my native language too :) your english is good!!

words: 964

That night haunted you, it's like a ghost, a film of that night replay in your mind every time you see his face. Flashbacks of that night come back every minute and you couldn't let go, the truth is you can't let it go, but you didn't know that.

You just couldn't forget, his hands around your body, you two in your bed, the kisses, the touches, the way he looked at you and made you feel safe and confident enough to do it with him.

Eddie makes you feel so good and makes you so crazy. It was like you wanted him more and more, but something inside you didn't want to let this feeling grow up. One thought says to you leave this, because it wouldn't last, Eddie is not a guy to you.

And you believe in this, you were determined to forget Eddie Roundtree, even if he was your work friend, and you were in the same band. You just want to forget and ignore the way your heart moves faster when he smiles at you.

But how long can you fight this feeling?

– – – –

Warren was given a party in his hotelroom, everybody of the band was there, unless Billy of course and you who had not yet arrived with your boyfriend. Oh yeah, your boyfriend. A few weeks ago you told your friends you were dating a guy. This is new, you always be quiet, never show up with someone in front of your friends. So everybody was excited to meet this guy.

Everyone, less Eddie. He was hating all this, he was furious. How could you ignore all you had and show up with another guy? How you could pretend that night never happened, all you did together, the way you move, different from you, he didn't want to forget it.

"Hey everybody, that's Ashton, my boyfriend. And babe this is my friends and my family" You introduced your boyfriend to your friends, they greeted him. But Eddie was different, he was holding himself from laughing at it, you've got to be kidding, this is the guy you thought could replace him?

While your boyfriend talks with Graham and Karen, you see Eddie roll his eyes, walk away and leave Warren's room. You tried not to follow him and stayed next to that man you call "babe" but you had no control of your feets, it was as if there was a magnetic force pulling you to him.

"Eddie, what's up?"

"Are you kidding, right? This is the guy? This is the guy who wants to be?"

"Ashton is a nice guy, don't talk like that"

And this is the only praise you could give to Ashton, because you knew nothing about him. You don't care with Ashton, you've trying to forget the gorgeous bassist, so one night you meet Ashton and decide that he would be the one who makes you forget Roundtree.

"He's not good for you"

"What?"

"You can't tell me that you love this guy. You can't be serious."

"Since when did you know what is the best for me? Are you so self-centered?"

You two were teasing each other, as a silent war. There were only the two of you in the hotel hallway. You could hear songs of the party, people talking and having fun while you are here. Facing each other, playing all the cards on the table.

"You're the only who can could decide what's the better for you, but don't fuck with me" Eddie came close to you "But you couldn't tell me that guy is the better for you, that he is what you deserve"

You try to find answers in your mind but couldn't focus on it, having him so close to you. That feeling is coming back again and you don't know how much longer you could fight against it. But why are you still trying to fight? If you were all that each other wanted.

The bassist came closer and closer until he put you against the wall, you put your hands on his chest and he put his hands around your hips.

"Tell me the truth, tell me it wasn't just one night, look at me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me, that you don't want me" You were so close which were as one thing "Because I love you and I want you, not only for one night but for a lifetime. So tell me what you want, what you really want and I will respect that and leave if that is what you want".

It almost exploded your mind, were so many

thoughts that you don't know what to do, what the people think of you falling for the bassist of your band. But who cares? You couldn't lie to yourself anymore, you want him, you love him and couldn't lose him. He's yours and he was confirming this with his confession, you didn't have to fight anymore.

"You're all I want Eddie, already wanted you before that night, for a long time to be honest" Your eyes were in his eyes, while making your confession you just could look up at the man in front of you.

So he couldn't wait any longer and kiss you, a desperate kiss, you two need that, you guys were thirsty for these kisses and touches which were marked in your mind. While kissing Eddie makes you put your legs around his hips. He didn't stop kissing you for a minute, as you walked to his room with you in his arms. He couldn't let you go. You both couldn't and didn't want to stop.

And that was the second night of the thousands you would spend together throughout your lives.

– – – –

if u like reblog and like pls, my request still open. love you guys ❤️

daisy jones and the six masterlist

[lustnluv]

my readers

girls are just for fun not how they actually look like but i’m latina do all my characters are latina….

puppy!reader is a big ball of energy. always has a million art projects that she’s working on. gives her projects as gifts to her friends. goes on the beach to take pictures of animals and her friends. she’s listening to old school drake, miguel, and karol g. rushes into some things headfirst but knows when thinks can be taken too far. she works at the club like jj and he thought she was cute but they never work that many shifts together. very smiley.

three songs that reminded of her and jb are

un beso by aventura

summer on you by prettymuch

no control by one direction

bat!reader is a sarcastic asshole with a heart of gold. more levelheaded then jj by far. usually smoking or working down with her cousin in a mechanic shop. a beach bum down to her core. very protective of her friends. listening to childish gambino, isabel larosa, and anitta. has her own car that was her dad’s and it’s always breaking down and she knows how to fix it but she has a boyfriend for a reason. knows how to level jj out and rile him up.

three songs that reminds me of her and jj

mi carzoncito by aventura

eyes don’t lie by isabel larosa

power trip by j. cole ft miguel

swan!reader is a angel. nice to everybody even the pogues. volunteering at the local library and shelter and giving out money and her leftovers to anybody. likes skincare and makeup. always have the newest stuff. has a cute g wagon but rafe takes her everywhere. listening to lana, rosalia, and taylor. doesn’t work but she gets good grades and wants to be a cosmologist or vet even though rafe doesn’t want her to work. does her own nails already.

three songs that reminds me of her and rafe

luna by bella dose ft danileigh

best i ever had by drake

ashton martin music by rick ross, drake, and chrisette michele

kitten!reader is a flirty little thing who once she got with pope was more loyal then anyone expected. has a resting bitch face and a mean attitude who softens up once pope is around. very overprotective of her friends. listens to bad bunny, becky g, and frank ocean. always dancing at parties. works as a nanny for kooks and is really good with kids. reads very smutty books in her free time and talks a lot once she’s comfortable with you.

three songs that reminds me of her and pope

mayores by becky g and bad bunny

love by kendrick lamar and zacari

thinking bout you by frank ocean

[ninthskzmember]

Birthday, debut. Part III

Part two

Idol!skz word count: 1,7k. warnings: Hyunjin is a jealous fuck.

Requests are open :)

"Hey mate" Chris greeted Luke and shook his hand.

"Hey guys," Ashton came in behind his friend, followed by Michael and then Calum.

A general "hey" came from my member's side, as did the other two guys. Then there was an akward silence between all of us.

"Moonjin, congrats on your performance!" Ashton exclaimed and came my way to hug me, and I disappeared in his arms.

"It's like a huge Changbin is hugging her." Seungmin commented and, once again, won a punch from Minho.

"Hyungggg," he cried while rubbing his stomach again.

"Told ya." Minho glanced at him with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"We got you this as a gift; I know you love it." Calum spoke for the first time towards me, handing me a six-pack of Australian beer.

"Thank you!" I smiled at him, taking the beverage from his hand as he gifted me one of his smirks, one of the kind where his eyes disappear. "And thank you for coming all the way here. It really means a lot to me." I looked at the four of them.

"It's nothing; you're our friend, mate! It's the least thing we can do." Mike smiled. "You're always coming to us; it was our turn."

"Yeah, that's right," Felix said with an overly deep voice, winning a gasp from Ashton and Michael.

"I honestly always forget you've got that voice, bruh; you do not fail to surprise me." Ashton joked around, trying to be nice.

Thank God the eight of my guys laughed lightly.

"He's my fairy with a truck driver's voice." I joked, and my best friend laughed and placed his arm around my shoulders.

"When are you coming to work with us?" Michael asked

Hyunjin was surprisingly quiet, just observing the whole interaction.

"So you came all the way here just to exploit me?” Another joke came from me.

"No. But we always have a great time together! And I'm inviting all of you," he said, looking at my members too.

"I'm sure 3racha would love to." Jeongin responded, smiling sweetly.

"Anytime, mate," Chan said. It's kind of weird when Chris is talking almost monosyllabic.

Minho kindly engaged in a conversation with the Australians, and Hyunjin took advantage of the situation to pull me aside.

"I thought Calum wasn't here." His deep stare was nailed to my eyes.

"I thought that too." I blinked repeatedly. "He did not even make a sound when Luke called... And you know, I can tell those kinds of things."

"Yeah, we know you're obsessed with the man," Hyunjin said, rolling his eyes. I ignored his comment; he was just trying to make drama.

"But it's sweet," he gave me the most deadly look when the words came out of my mouth. "That they're here," I raised my eyebrows. "I never did that for them."

"That was surely your man trying to make it up to you and taking his whole band to not make it obvious," he replied with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No, Cal's not that type." I denied it as I glanced over to the man in the subject: "If he messes up, he'll own up to that."

"Oh, so he's your man," he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah." I nodded just to upset him.

He has been getting on my nerves all day.

I saw how his ears turned red from anger and jealousy, which made me laugh inside my head, but he did not show it.

"Felix" Hyunjin called our best friend, "Talk to her; I cannot stand her. She's being Mini-Minho again."

An angry Jinnie walked away from me, and I smirked funny. Felix came all the way to me.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"He's being toxic. Calum has barely talked to me, and he is being dramatic." I looked at the blonde one and said, "You know me, Lix."

"He's sensitive. And so are you, even if you don't show it. Think about how you would feel if Lia was here instead of Calum."

"Yeah, as if it doesn't happen at least two times in a day," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Moonjin-ah!" I heard a familiar voice come from the open door, letting my female best friend be seen.

"RYUJIN," I said, opening my arms and encouraging her to come to me.

She rushed through the people and hugged me tightly

"Congratulations, mama," she smiled widely, and I did the same to her.

"Thank you! We were just talking about..."

"Moonjin-ssi sunbaenim" Yeji came in behind my best friend and said, "Congratulations on your debut." She bowed at me along with Yuna and Lia.

"Thank you." I bowed back and looked at Chan, who was looking at the scene.

"I think I need to shut up sometimes," Felix whispered at me.

"Ya think?" I threw a deadly look at him.

"MOONJIN UNNIE" Another voice, agitated this time, made its way to my ears. "I'm so sorry, I was peeing." She laughed and hugged me.

"I hope you washed your hands," I joked at Chaeryeong and all the girls, and Felix laughed.

"I did not," she said, caressing my face with his wet hand, which had obviously been washed but not dried.

"MoonJin-ssi" My manager caught my attention. "There's people that wanted to congratulate and say hi."

"Yeah, sure." I smiled. "Tell them to come in."

Not two seconds later, Suga came into the dressing room, along with the rest of his members. Immediately everyone—except for 5SOS—bowed at them. The 5SOS members bowed after realizing that everyone did.

"Congratulations Moonjin!" Suga bowed and then hugged me.

"Thank you, Yoongi-ssi." I smiled at him.

All the BTS members came one by one to hug me and congratulate me.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Taehyung talked to me, and I looked at Hyunjin rapidly. He wanted to take me out to dinner tonight.

"I think I've got this thing with my members..." I almost whispered.

"No, you don't," Seungmin said out loud, and Minho took action again.

"We wanted to take you out too," Luke said out of nowhere.

"Oh, three groups frightened for her love," Lia said in a Phoebe Buffay way quietly to Yuna, but not quietly enough for me not to hear. Not from her.

"We can arrange a small party in our house." Namjoon offered, and Jungkook nodded in agreement.

"Sure!" Chan came into the conversation. He definitely liked the Bangtang boys more than the 5SOS boys. "I'd offer our dorm, but it's pretty small," he added shyly.

"It's no problem. We'll take care of it." Suga smiled

I did not make this clear, but... I'm pretty close with Yoongi. We like to write and produce a lot together. He helped me a lot with my album. Being close to him and working with him is pretty much spending time with his members too.

Felix often gets kind of possessive over me when Yoongi is around. He told me that he's afraid that I'd drift apart with him.

So yeah, the majority of my members are pussies. Seungmin, Minho, and I get tagged like the 'cold and heartless ones'. Sometimes even Jeongin.

"Everyone is invited!" Jin said it out loud, and I laughed.

"Thank you, Sunbanim," the Itzy members bowed at the Bangtan boys and also did the rest of us, thanking them.

The boys left the room, but not before Jungkook gifted me another hug and congratulations.

Yeji, Lia, Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and Yuna followed the BTS steps and left us all alone again.

"Where are you staying?"

"Four Seasons," Calum replied.

"Y'all are wealthy bitches," I laughed.

"Youngblood did pretty well, actually," Luke replied to me with a smirk on his face.

"You know, I really like that song... The one that talks about a knitted sweater for two."

"Oh, so, the one that you helped write," Ashton added, and he let out a little laugh. His kind of little laughs

"Talk fast. Ro-mance" Jisung did a little dance while singing a part of the song, making me laugh.

"No, Ji, sing YOUR song." I jumped excited.

"Oh yeah, wait," he said, clearing his throat. "Whyyyy, won't you love me?"

"Damn, he can hit those notes," a surprised Ashton said again.

"They all have their songs." I looked at the four guys.

"Yeah? From Youngblood?" Luke raised his eyebrows, kind of excited.

"Most of them," I nodded. "So, Chan is a hundred percent Youngblood. Then Minnie is―"

"Don't call me that," both Minho and Seungmin protested at the same time.

"Bro, you'll take whatever I say," I frowned at Seungmin. "As I was saying, Minho oppa..." I corrected myself this time while looking at him. "... is Valentine. Binnie is If Walls Could Talk. Hyunjin-ah is―" I was cut off again.

"Hyunjin Oppa," he corrected me.

"Oh, so now you're oppa?" I looked at him with one of my eyebrows raised.

"I am," he maintained eye contact.

"Alright," I said, "Hyunjin oppa is more." Calum looked at us attentively, knowing my love for that song.

"Oh, by the way, all of these are talking about the music itself, not the lyrics." I cleared and kept talking. "Jisung is Why Won't You Love Me? Felix is obviously a better man. Minnie wants you back. And Innie is woke up in Japan." I finished, and the room was silent.

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?" Felix asked

"A bit, yeah."

"You could have gotten me Ghost of You."

"Nah, I'm not ruining those amazing songs with y'all. The ghost of you and Lie to Me are untouchable."

"I'm satisfied with my song," Chan said, out of nowhere.

"It was the easy option," Changbin added.

"It was not." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"It was. Giving the leader the title track," said Minho.

"Hey!" I frowned again. "You're supposed to be on my side of sh*t. You're breaking the contract," I pointed at him.

"Contract?" a few of the guys asked, not really understanding the situation.

"Oh, that shit I didn't want to participate in?" asked Seungmin.

"Yeah, 'Cause you stink. That's why I'm Mini-Minho and not Mini-Minnie."

"I don't want you to be mini-minnie-me."

"Eenie meenie miney mo lover" Jisung started singing again, and everyone laughed.

"Don't you think you're frighting too much today, noona?" Jeongin asked me to be by my side.

"Yeah, right?" I looked at him, thinking, "I think I'm kind of hormonal." I moved my head to the side, and he laughed.

to be continued...

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[idolatrybarbie]

the world tipped on its side

chapter five - satellite

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

rating & summary: explicit | you reflect on the concept of love.

warnings: smut, swallowing like a champ, references to past physical injury, reference to frigid parent dynamics, dead parents, reader has a disability, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, emotionssss, pathetic!frankie moments.

notes: @wannab-urs gin hurt my feelings so now everyone must suffer next chapter but enjoy this while we're here. i kind of think this is trash garbo but (at the time of queuing this) i'm in a weird headspace coming back home for the first time. also it's late and i've been traveling all day so i'm choosing to ignore myself. goodnight and enjoy.

Friendship. That’s what this is.

Friendship with a man who called you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Said that you’re so beautiful it’s scary. Who you had just sex with. 

You don’t see much of Frankie on set, except for the few chaste and directive conversations between you, himself, and Ashton. In those moments, the very last thought on your mind is whatever is going on with you and him. It’s work, that’s the priority. Not that you give a shit about the movie, but it’d be nice if everyone wrapped and returned home in one piece.

Every time you try and talk to him, someone else pulls you away. This goes on for the first two days of filming in the woods. You don’t know what this is—this pull that keeps you circling him, even if you never quite seem to gain on Frankie in the chase. The sun and moon, bouncing light between each other at all times. You’re trying to figure out which role you are playing.

You catch him in a personal moment on day four, just getting off the phone with someone behind a production trailer. He looks momentarily startled, but not deterred by your presence. A good sign.

“Hey,” Frankie says. He sounds exactly like he did over the phone.

“Hi,” you return. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yeah. I figured,” he says. “I mean, me too. Just with the—” He’s motioning vaguely at the helicopter parked thirty feet from you.

“Yeah,” you nod.  “I don’t want to do it here. Maybe you could come over, or…”

“I’ve got my daughter this week,” he says with a shake of his head.

“Oh, shit. Right. I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. Things are just really…tight right now. Time-wise.”

The pager at your hip buzzes. Ashton calling everyone back to set.

“I’ll call, okay? I promise,” Frankie says. The words make your chest cold and you hate it. This is selfish, surely. The man has a kid, for crying out loud. Who are you to deny or resent dad duty?

But you do. At this moment, you really do, wishing that the small being he has called his pride and joy would cease to exist for an evening. It’s horrible, so you nod and that's that. Back to work you go.

You wait until the end of the week. Frankie does not call. You hate, hate that you’ve been reduced to the girl in movies that would pine over the phone and wait for that special boy to call. Because really, are any of them all that special? Is Frankie?

Sure, he touched you and it felt like a match to your insides, but does that mean anything? You’re out of practice. He’s the first person to pay you any mind in that way since you became disabled. The more you think about it, really think about it, the more the argument for Frankie Morales falls apart.

Mia comes over on a night where missing Sam makes her heart ache a little too much to be alone, bringing with her a shitty bottle of rosé. You’re half a glass deep when she starts to ask that needling question, What’s wrong? And finishing the bottle by the time you sigh as an answer to her asking for the millionth time. You agreed to be open after the—spat? Blowup? Long overdue reuniting best friend fight?—but it still takes some time. She is prying open a mussel to find a very shitty prize.

“It’s stupid,” you say. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not, and it isn’t,” Mia says, a frown on her face. Your lips stay sealed in a pout and she turns on those evil, adorable eyes. “Tell me.”

You hold out for about five minutes, some action flick moving quietly across your flat screen before you finally give in.

“Jesus! Fine,” you relent. “It’s like being waterboarded.”

Mia grins with satisfaction before her face snaps back to sober (as much as one can be after a whole bottle of wine) seriousness. “Spill.”

“You’re going to say it’s dumb,” you say.

“You’re projecting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I slept with Frankie.” A bomb explodes on screen, illustrating what is most certainly happening inside Mia’s skull at this very moment. “Yeah…”

“Was it good?”

“Mia!” you scold, swatting at her knee.

“Hey! You can’t blame me for asking. I love Sam but I have eyes,” she says. “He reminds me of all the guys we went to school with that have photos with fish on their Tinder profiles.”

“You’re terrible,” you sigh.

“You know it, baby,” she smiles. “So you slept together. What next?”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Mia holds her tongue for a moment, trying to formulate this sentence in the least explosive way possible. “Do you want to?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say.

“I have to ask. You’re not exactly the talk it out type of person anymore,” Mia says.

Ignoring that, you say, “He’s busy. I’m busy. I hate it.”

“Call him,” Mia tries.

“Did that. Not really an over-the-phone kind of conversation,” you say.

Mia hums thoughtfully. “Okay, well. Try it out with me first.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re going to say to him, say it to me. I know exactly where your mind is going with this—oh no, he has no time for me. Is it even worth discussing this matter that is very important to me if I project unimportance from the other party onto my feelings?"

You don’t say anything, willing another bottle of wine to appear next to the empty one on the coffee table.

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong. It’s what you do,” Mia says, confidence in the way she straightens up against the couch. And she isn’t wrong, but maybe you aren’t either. Frankie isn’t her. Frankie isn’t your best friend. He’s friendly, and you fucked.

“Okay, fine,” you say. You focus in on Mia’s eyes, imagining a different pair of them staring back at you. “I just—I want to tell you that what happened…was a first. In a long while. And I don’t know how to say it like a normal goddamn person, but—”

You can’t focus, words flying out of your mouth too fast for your tipsy brain to keep up. Your feelings are a jumble in your head, a vintage game of Scrabble lost to time. Mia’s not Frankie either. You’d have to explain it and provide all this context that you can’t even put words to for her to understand. For this to feel any ounce of real. Frankie would simply get it. But he won’t, because at this rate you’ll never get to tell him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“Well I can’t make you do anything. I know you, and you’ll do what you think is best. Even if you know the alternative might be better,” Mia says. You can’t help but laugh. “I kind of get it, how your dad felt? When we were at school.”

The mood turns. Not sour, not quite the same. Your living room has a palpable edge ebbing through it now, carried through the occasional waft of alcohol between you, Mia, and the open, empty bottle.

“Do you remember him when we were in college?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Your dad? Of course. He was so, I don’t know—hands-on? He was around way more than my parents were,” Mia says.

He showed up every third weekend of the month with a few containers of leftovers; macaroni pie, frozen meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fresh tomatoes from his garden.

A man who only softened when you elected to up and leave. A man you resented until the day he died. A man you still resent, deep down in your soul. Yet you miss him.

The first time your heart’s been activated in years to throw you off assured feet and your first instinct is to run home to Dad. He lingers in your car, in the way you hold the gravy boat at Mia’s Thanksgiving dinners; his gloves are what you wore in the months of a tiresome film shoot amid an unending New York blizzard.

You hate him. He loved you. For the sixth time this week, you ponder driving home to clean up his grave. You can’t right now, because of work. Maybe when the summer’s over. The leaves will have started to fall. The headstone could use a good power wash.

“Where’d you go?” Mia asks.

“Hm?”

“You disappeared on me for a second,” she says.

“Thinking,” you say.

“Mm, don’t do too much of that. You’ll break your brain.”

“Already broken.”

“That’s too bad,” Mia smiles. “Had some pretty great thoughts sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“All the time,” she corrects. Mia gets off the couch, taking a minute to steady herself. “I’m calling a ride.”

“Excellent idea,” you nod. “See? Look at you. Responsible, quick-witted. You can do the thinking for the both of us.”

“Slow your roll, Romeo,” Mia cautions, staring into her phone. She looks up at you. “The night is still young. I’m only going home because you’re dry.”

“There’s a reason you keep alcohol at your place and I don’t,” you say. There have been some days, far behind you now, where you might’ve just drank the pain away. Certainly not the way to go.

She leaves you with another laugh and a smile, promising to text you when she gets home. The apartment stills as soon as the door shuts. You almost open it again, reaching for the knob to lean out into the hall and call Mia back. You don’t, instead letting the quiet envelope you. This doesn’t feel the same as the loneliness that would lurk in the shadowy corners of the room. Your lamps finally feel tall enough to reach those spots, dawning light on them and banishing the feeling.

You let yourself sit with it. Not lonely but alone. This isn’t permanent and it’s not a death sentence, as uncomfortable as it feels right now. Mia is there, along with an assortment of friends whose names you’ll have to dust the cobwebs off of soon. Even if Frankie never calls, you’ll be okay. A bittersweet realization for this dull and itching moment.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you pass the bathroom, you pause. You watch yourself, not in judgment like the last time. Plain observation. You blink three times in one minute before moving on.

It’s odd, looking without really looking. You’ve oscillated between dissection and avoidance of yourself for the last handful of years. This is a new skill to build. Look, there she is. A blink in passing.

Wherever you go, there you are. Get used to it.

-

Back on the studio lot for the rest of the week, you don’t see Frankie. The occurrence becomes less and less significant as the days pass. You almost delete his number from your phone altogether. Almost.

At lunch, you go through your phone to his contact, finger hovering over the trash button. In the end, you decide against it. It’s a number you might need for work. It’d be a pain in the ass to have to go down to payroll for his contact information—like you don’t have the digits memorized. Mia joins you at some point, minutes blurring together as you eat in pleasant silence.

Shooting goes over almost two hours because of rain leaking through the roof onto a set piece. You get home close to midnight. The street lamps bathe everything in a warm glow. Puddles have collected in the divets of the road, water reflecting the artificial light alongside the cold moon.

The elevator ride up to your floor should be like any other. Your instincts know better. Watching the digital numbers change as the metal box ascends, your stomach flips in your gut. You’ve always been acutely aware of the environments you found yourself in, bullshit meter finely tuned to warn you when shit was about to hit the fan.

It’s an instinct your father grew and nurtured in childhood. Because of him, all hard edges and unreachable wells of emotion. He was iced over solid. You found yourself carefully skating over that surface, around and around again for years until you left.

When the elevator doors open, you half-expect to see him standing there. Risen from the grave like a corpse from your dreams. The wall of shiny metal parts into two, and you see someone. Not your father. The breath caught in your throat flashes from crisp to boiling, a tube of Icy Hot slathered across your lungs.

You’ve never told Frankie where you live. So what is he doing here?

Before you’ve even made it to your door, you ask him.

“Thought I’d missed you,” he supplies as an explanation. “Or that you were ignoring me from inside.”

“I can ignore you from outside, too,” you say, setting your bag down. Taking keys from your back pocket, you avert your eyes as you get a grasp on the one for your front door.

“Listen,” he begins, watching as you turn the lock. “I—”

“Look, Frankie. I don’t have time for this. Or you, or your games.” Turning the handle of the door and pushing it open, you grab your things and step inside your apartment. “You said you’d call. You didn’t. End of story.”

“The phone works both ways,” he says. You try not to be shocked at the audacity.

“Well this,” you say, pointing between the two of you, “doesn’t.”

You’re shutting the door when he gently rests a hand on the reinforced wood.

“Please just—let me explain?” Frankie asks. You don’t close the door but don’t open it any wider for him. At that, he says, “Thank you.”

Glancing behind you to find the living room clock, you say, “You’ve got two minutes.” Two minutes to midnight.

“I wanted to call, but I—” Frankie cuts himself off. “I was a coward and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually feel this way about people. Not in a long time.”

His words are scratching at your heart. You hold your steely gaze against him, ignoring your insides slowly melting behind the door.

“I really like you. More than I’ve liked anybody. More than I like myself most days. That night in Florida was confusing for me. You wanted me there, and I wanted you. And then you said it was scary and I realized just how terrifying it is. This is.” Frankie takes a breath. “I didn’t want this to be weird. Didn’t want to box you into a corner with all of this shit I’m feeling because that isn’t fair and—”

He’s been avoiding focusing on you, instead staring at the nice tile scuff between the doorway and his boot. Frankie looks up, words playing straight on his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost when all he’s looking at is you.

“And now I’m some fucker on your doorstep begging you to listen to me tell my sob story.” From the sounds of it, that’s the last thing he wants.

“Sometimes things don’t work out. That’s life,” you say. You’re telling yourself that this is the smart decision. Ice him out and your heart stays safely in your chest. Close the door and he’ll forget all about you. 

Frankie’s eyes are wide, expression raw. He isn’t observing or puzzling over you, he’s barely hiding anything on that face of his. Frankie is bleeding emotion all over your door. You want to take him in your hands and kiss it better. Lick the gore from his mouth, words crimson and dripping off his chin.

So you do.

Setting your bag down in the corner, you open the door wider to see all of him. He stands tall, all broad shoulders under his slubby blue button-down. You’re kissing Frankie before you can consider anything else. He takes ahold of the frilly sleeves of your blouse to pull you closer.

Licking at your teeth, Frankie walks you backward into the apartment. The door is still open. You maneuver around and press your back against it, closing with a thud. He breaks the kiss to murmur another apology against your cheek. You let him, pushing your tongue back into his mouth again.

Gripping the hair that sticks out at the nape of his neck, Frankie moans into the kiss.

“Are you—? Can we?” he asks, whisper-quiet. “Should we?”

No. Yes? You aren’t sure that it matters much anymore. “Do you want to?”

“Always.”

“Okay.”

The kiss is gentler from there on, moving through the front hall and living room with Frankie attached to your face. He almost trips himself taking his boots off. You both make it to the bed, thighs catching at the edge of the mattress. Lying down, he joins you. This is immediately better than that shitty motel, and you haven’t done anything yet.

Frankie moves onto his side, distracted by your lips as he works at the front zipper of your pants. You move your hand to join his, pulling the silver tab down over metal teeth like you’ve done a couple hundred times by now. He huffs in a wordless thanks, pushing your pants down until they are bunched at your ankles. You toe them off along with your socks, leaving you in nothing but underwear from the waist down.

He’s looking at you like an eclipse, utterly fascinated. You begin to shrink in on yourself under his gaze, but he gently runs the pads of his fingers over your cheek. You lean into the warm touch, three matches dragging against your skin to set your face alight.

Frankie kisses down your body, undoing a few of the buttons that sit over your chest. He doesn’t take the shirt off of you, instead pushing it up as his lips kiss over your stomach. You jerk, the soft feeling sending a jolt through your body.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please touch me.” You hate that you’re begging, but love to hear yourself do it.

Frankie does too, moving his mouth over you as he keeps your underwear on. He licks at you over the lycra material, soaking the already damp fabric where your clit sits beneath it. Dipping his tongue low against the gusset, he slips two fingers under your waistband and tugs it away from your skin. The panties peel off of you.

Frankie bunches them in his hand, leaving them beside him on the bed. Without warning, he’s on you again—really this time. He licks at your cunt fervently, like this is the last chance he’ll get to give head. You close your eyes and pull his head closer to your body, small moans slipping past your lips.

This is still a bit of an apology. The thought comes to you amidst your fuzzy haze as you drip onto his tongue. Frankie groans below you, taking your right thigh in one hand and hoisting it onto his shoulder. He’s attached to you again, a different set of lips.

Most of his attention is focused on your clit, his tongue swirling at it between moments when he presses it flat against the whole of you.

“You’re always so sweet for me,” Frankie mumbles. “Wet and pretty. D’you like it when I fuck you with my mouth?”

“Yes, fuck—always,” you sigh.

Dragging him up by the hair, you kiss him again. You need to before you say something stupid. One hand is held softly at your jaw while Frankie’s other hand works you over, pressing hard against your clit.

“God.” Your heart is racing underneath your skin, beating too fast to be quite comfortable.

Frankie’s so close and everything smells like him. Frankie and sex; two things this room has never been exposed to in your tenure here. You should make a candle.

You scratch at his chest, half-hoping to draw a bit of blood as you whine his name.

“Yeah honey? That good? Nice and slow, or—?”

You nod and he slips a finger inside of you, pressing against the front wall of your pelvis. This returns you to begging for more, for anything. For him.

At the edge of an orgasm, Frankie’s fingers leave you in search of a condom. You reach out to the drawer of your bedside table, yanking it forward. Amongst a stash of pens, sticky notes, and batteries is a handful of them. Frankie takes one and opens it up, sliding the latex over his cock. One day, you’ll get your mouth on that thing. Right now you both have other plans.

He works his hand over himself a couple of times before sinking onto the mattress with you. His arms cage you in at either side as he slides in slowly. He’s only halfway inside you when you nod to yourself, a hum barely audible.

“What?” he asks.

“Noting that you’re a missionary type of guy,” you say.

That pulls a laugh from him, morphing into a squeezed moan as you hook one leg over Frankie’s hip. He’s pushed the rest of the way inside of you, breathing heavily at the surprise.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Would that be so bad this way?” you ask. It’s hard to keep up the sarcastic banter when you’re so full of him.

Frankie sighs. “No.” The word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips, the force moving you up the bed half an inch.

What you would give to have him fuck you into the headboard; pound you into the mattress. He can’t, shouldn’t, and seems to know it already. Frankie grants you your wish of laying on you though. Just lightly, a feather of a man on top.

Frankie’s cock kisses the end of your cunt before he pulls out again. You hold onto him, pressing him closer as you keep your face in the shadow of his neck. Picturing the scene, pants off and shirts on, almost makes you laugh. Another punch of his hips fucks the thought from your head as you sink your teeth into his skin. Frankie hisses, losing his rhythm with a slight stutter.

“Do that again,” he says, waiting. You do, kissing at the tender skin of his throat this time before you bite him. The flesh between your teeth is soft and elastic, pulling away from his body.

In Frankie’s absence, your appetite has grown. Maybe that’s what it is: starvation. Waiting for days to get your fill once again. You need him inside you—in your cunt, under your skin, between your teeth. You would devour him if he’d let you.

“You feel so fucking good.” His words come slow, contrasting the small gasps he pulls from you on every thrust, leaving you breathless. Frankie is holding you in almost a cradle now. Claustrophobia settles between your bodies deliciously, the world shrinking down to a pinhole as he fucks you.

It doesn’t quite feel like fucking, though. The way Frankie touches you is too soft in some places, and the way he’s looking at you is killer. His eyes flash with that unexplainable thing, stirring your stomach as you feel your peak again. This is a murder. He’s returning the favour.

The next kiss Frankie gives you is bruising. The heat of your skin against his boils over, the oxygen blur caused by your faulty lungs and the slap of his hips against yours doing you in. You come with a groan, panting into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you.

“So pretty when you come,” he says beside your ear. “So pretty always, sweet thing.”

He pulls out of you, jerking himself off through the condom over your body. You shake your head, removing the thin piece of rubber. You pick up where he left off, spitting on him and stroking Frankie’s cock with the tight circle of your hand.

“Fuck,” he moans, long and loud. “Honey, slow down. Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth.” Testing, you give him a kitten lick at the tip of his dick.

“Oh god.”

You shake your head. “Just me.”

He comes with a few more strokes, striping your tongue, your lips, your chin. You let him go to gather it from your skin onto your fingers. It’s only a little shiny here in the half-dark. You can feel Frankie watching when you press your index past your lips, tasting more of him.

He groans. Again, he says, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Frankie lays down on the empty side of the bed. You brace for his after-sex questionnaire, but the conversation never comes. He rolls onto his side to face you, slipping his arms around your torso as you face away from him.

Eventually he asks, “You still like me being here? Now that it’s here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Florida, it’s a vacation. This is a little more…” Permanent. Memorable.

Whenever you went home for the summer, your childhood bedroom plagued you with thoughts and memories long buried of your amateur firsts. Your brain still sort of worked like that—you’re sure that if you went back to your old unit in California, the handful of PAs and dolly grips you spent nights with would be one of the first things on your mind.

“Yeah,” you say, answering the question. “This is better.”

“Better?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you mumble into the pillow.

“Too late,” Frankie says.

You sigh. “How can you be the coolest guy ever and an absolute donut at the same time?”

“You think I’m cool?” he asks.

Unlike him, you’re honest. “Unfortunately.”

Frankie hums, the rumble of his chest sinking into the bones in your spine easily.

This is all easy. Listening to him breathe, letting him in your space, falling asleep against him. If you weren’t so thoroughly fucked and tired, the simplicity would freeze you, desperate to scramble away. All you can do is lay there, falling asleep in his arms.

When you wake up, Frankie’s gone. Again.

Something painful seizes your chest, an icy claw poking razor-sharp fingers through the slats in your ribs. The sheets on the empty side of the bed still have the faint glow of body heat. He must’ve left recently, or maybe he’s still up. You can catch him before he puts his boots on and walks out your front door—out of your apartment, out of your life.

Franke interrupts your thoughts when he returns to your room, a mug in his hand.

“Did I wake you?” he asks. His morning voice is low and gravelly. A feast for the ears.

“No,” you shake your head. “I thought you left.”

“Moved my boots. They were getting dirt on your nice carpet.” Right. You remember him leaving them somewhere in your apartment. “I made coffee.”

“I’m okay.” You let your breathing even out as he sits back down on the bed with you. “We should…talk.”

“That’s all we ever do,” Frankie says. “Well, that and…” The other thing you two are so proficient at these days.

“I mean really talk. About this,” you say.

“Right,” he nods. Frankie sets his mug down, steam rising from the top. “I guess I do owe you a secret.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. “I want to tell you.”

When you told him about the accident, about everything that changed, you’d handed him this soft and precious thing of yours that no one else had ever seen. With the roles reversed, your palms itch. You can’t help but think that you’ll drop his.

“But you have to promise me something first,” Frankie says. “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? Please.”

“Okay.”

A long moment of silence draws on between the two of you as he stares at your bed sheets. Frankie’s mouth twitches, filtering through his vocabulary to find the right words. Then finally, he speaks.

He tells you about a region in South America called Tres Fronteras. About a phone call, a decision, a heist. The money, most of it lost to the unforgiving land and sea. Frankie lost a friend, a wife, and a life he was trying to carve out for himself. All for riches that were never going to be his.

“I killed people. I was good at it—that and flying planes. And then all of that ended with the service. For a while there I was…a bit of a trigger-happy coke head,” he says, almost rolling his eyes. Frankie can’t seem to look at you, the same way he couldn’t in the hall. “Took a long time to clean up my act.”

You understand what he meant on that beach, an apology waiting behind your teeth as you keep your eyes on him. You don’t verbalize it. Instead, you take his hand into yours. Gently, you squeeze.

“I guess you aren’t the only one squirrely about secrets,” Frankie whispers.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Frankie surrenders, face drawn when he meets your eyes.

“That’s not the person you’ve shown me. It’s not the guy that I see. We change. For worse or for better.”

You would be lying if you said that his admissions don’t unsettle you; that this is an easy pill to swallow. But you know him. You want him. He and you are cut from the same cloth in the end. This changes nothing.

“Which one do you think you are?” he asks.

“Worse.” But that can change. Is changing, even as you sit here.

“And me?”

At that, you smile. “Better.”

You want to tell him that the promise of seeing him had been one of the only things getting you through the slow, thick haze of summer. That the thought of him never calling was a little devastating, no matter how sad that sounds. You miss his touch and want his eyes on you always. You’ve never had such a quick turnaround in opinion about anything. It’s selfish, really.

“I’m kind of a bad person,” he says slowly. It’s half warning, half realization.

“Good and bad are concepts from make-believe. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“So what do you worry about?” Frankie asks.

“Reality,” you say. “My whole life is centered around making other people believe in something fake. Concentrating on what’s real? That’s been keeping me sane lately.”

Mia’s words. Frankie’s attention. That tangible feeling of warmth, different but the same, when you are around both of them.

“And you’re real,” you say before he can ask. “A bit of a fuck up, but so am I.”

“That must be why we get along,” Frankie says.

“Must be.”

You want to add you’ll be okay to that list of real things. You need it. You’d kill for it. Silently, with your head against the pillow, you make a decision.

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads / @for-a-longlongtime

[calumsrockstar]

Surf's up - Ashton Irwin

a/n: possibly thinking of making this into a series?

Word count: 1.4k

Where you go to the beach, and you encounter a very sexy australian surfer

contents: fluff, swearing, weed use

Surfer!Ashton x Reader (fem)

You were always a fan of the beach, the way sand felt on your toes, how salty the water was... But, since your family went on a holiday every summer, it turned out to be a bore.

"y/n y/l/n! you are going to the beach whether you like it or not!" Your mother exclaimed. You rolled your eyes. "I don't get why you force me to do these things." You exclaimed.

You felt like a teenager again, being pushed into trips with your family, the problem was, you were an adult now, and still were being treated like a kid.

"Fine, but I won´t have to stay with you guys the whole time! Deal?" You asked your parents. "That´s fine." Your dad replied.

You finally got to the beach house. Immediately you put on your bathing suit and went to the beach.

One of the things you enjoyed the most was making sandcastles, even though you were 20 now, this reminded you the most of your childhood, comforting you in ways that touched your soul.

While you were making your sandcastle, someone bumped into it, destroying the whole thing. "What the fuck? Watch where you´re going!" You screamed. "Sorry..." You heard a voice from above you.

You looked up, and there he was, his brown hair, lightened from the sun, his tan skin, slightly sunburnt, and the most beautiful green eyes you´ve ever seen.

He reached down with his hand, pulling you up. "I´m sorry, I can help you rebuild it?" He said. And he had an australian accent. God damnit.

He looked you up and down. He was thinking the same as you, your hair was curled from the salt water, your delicate face, and the way your coverup hugged your body made him stare.

"It´s fine, don´t worry about it... I´m way too old to be making sandcastles anyway." You rubbed your hand at the back of your neck and laughed. He smiled back.

"I think it´s adorable." He winked. You started blushing. "Are you from around here?" He asked. "No i´m just here on vacation with my family." You replied.

"Oh... that´s too bad." He uttered. You raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Why´s that?" You asked. "I was just wanting to know you better." He smiled. Your legs went weak.

"Well, I think i´d like to get started by knowing your name first, mystery man." You laughed.

"The name´s Ashton, what about yours?" You grinned. "I´m y/n, nice to meet you." You stuck out your hand, into his, creating an awkward handshake.

"I don´t know if this is too sudden, but... Would you like to hang out at another beach tonight with some friends? It´s something casual, just a few buddies." He asked, tugging at his green choker, with a pearl on the center. "Yeah, i´d love to." You replied.

"Awesome, would you give me your number so I can give you the info?" He questioned.

"Yeah, no problem, my phone´s just in my bag, i´ll go get it." You turned around and walked to your beach chair. Ashton turned around, trying not to stare.

You gave him your number, and to text it to know if he got it right. You recieved a notification saying "Hello, nice to meet you, y/n." You smiled.

"See you tonight then." You smirked, showing the dimples on your face.

"See you." Ashton said. When you left, he couldn´t hide his joy, wiping the smile off his face.

The evening came, you went to go take a shower, wondering what would happen tonight. You washed the salt off your skin and shampooed and conditioned your hair.

You finally picked out an outfit. A white skirt paired with a pink bikini top.

You braided your hair and put on some mascara, breathing deep. "We´re just gonna hang out", you told yourself.

Meanwhile, Ashton was at Calum´s house, accompanied by Mike and Luke, were getting ready.

"So... you finally got yourself a girl?" Calum asked Ashton. "She´s not my girl, she´s just someone I met, we´re just gonna hang out." He replied.

"That´s not what you sounded like when you were describing her to us." Luke said.

Michael teased Ashton, repeating what he said. "Oh! She´s so pretty! She seems perfect." He exclaimed while putting a hand on his forehead.

"Shut the fuck up dude..." Ashton said, combing through his hair and putting on a floral red shirt.

It was finally time, the sky was clear and the night was warm, Calum, Mike, Luke and Ashton were sitting around a campfire at the beach, waiting for you, listening to the crackling of the fire.

You arrived, walking, since the beach was not far from your house and Luke was the first to see you.

"Dude, is that her?" He asked Ashton. All of them turned to look at you. "A bit out of your league, don´t you think Ash?" Michael punched him in the shoulder. "Smokin´ hot." Calum agreed.

Ashton ran up to greet you, and you both hugged. "Hi." You giggled and looked into his eyes. "I was thinking you would never show up, you look good." He laughed.

Luke looked at the boys. "We´re literally a collective third wheel right now."

He held your hand to bring you to the other guys, they all stood up and hugged you, then you all sat down around the campfire, you were sitting in the middle of Calum and Ash.

"Guys, this is y/n." He said, introducing you.

"So, what brings you here to our beautiful beach hangout spot?" Calum laughed, taking a drag of his joint. "Well, i´m here with my family on vacation, not really by choice. But I got invited by Ashton here, so it´s not that bad." You winked.

"How did you two meet?" Michael asked.

"I was just surfing on the beach, and I knocked over her sandcastle." Ashton laughed. "Yup, true story." You agreed.

"You smoke?" Calum asked you. "Occasionally..." You smiled. Calum laughed and passed the joint to you, the light dimming down with the wind.

Calum passed you the lighter. "Ash, can you help here?" You asked. He put his two hands over the joint while you light it. Looking at you, thinking about how lucky he was to have met you. You took a puff.

"Thanks." You smiled up at him. "No problem." He blushed.

Calum looked over to Luke and whispered. "You could cut the tension here with a knife." Luke giggled.

Luke whispered something in Calum´s ear. "Well, we´re going inside, we´ll let you two be." Calum exclaimed. Michael also understood the message, and left with them.

You looked at Ashton, and he shrugged his shoulders. "You can finish it." You told him, passing the joint to him, watching him take one last puff, throwing it on the sand.

"I have an idea." Ashton smiled. "What?" You asked him. He took you by the hand and dragged you close to the ocean.

"Let´s jump in." He told you. "Are you crazy? it´s like 10 PM." You laughed at him.

"Who cares? I promise to save you if you drown." He told you. You punched him in the arm. "That´s not funny!" You laughed. "It´s a little bit funny." He replied.

"Okay fine, but baby steps." You told him, taking off your skirt. He froze, and you smiled. "Hey, my eyes are up here." You laughed. "Sorry."

He took off his shirt and took your hand.

He tricked you, he picked you up and ran into the ocean with you, as you screamed and laughed. "Ashton! Put me down! I don´t wanna wet my hair!"

You both splashed in the water together, fully submerging yourselves.

You came up for air, so did he. "Too late, princess." He smiled.

You couldn´t even be mad at him, he looked so beautiful in the moonlight. His hair going curly after it got wet.

He took your face in his hands and pulled it closed to your face. "May I?" He asked. You smiled and nodded.

He placed a kiss on your lips, momentarily breaking because of the force of the waves, but kissing again after.

You both got out of the water, and you started running. "Where are you going?" He asked you. "Come get me and you'll see!" You shouted.

Ashton ran after you, and soon enough he caught up and wrapped his arms around you. "What was that?" He asked you, turning you to face him. "Wanted to feel you hold me."

"There's more than enough time for that." He smiled and kissed you again, more passionately.

"I'm so glad I met you, y/n." He told you.

"Me too, Ash."