#can i just draw shirts with dumb shit on it forever

[dustybones]

just girl things

also massive thanks to @fairymascot for all her advice and helpful tips!!!

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Job Swap

“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.

“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!

“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.

“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”

“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”

“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!

At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.

At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.

The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.

He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes. 

My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.

I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.

“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”

“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.

“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”

“Because I want to keep my job?”

“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.

“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.

“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”

“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.

When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.

“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.

“To whom it may concern,

Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV

I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person,  but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.

The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.

How to use:

Flip the coin

No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!

It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.

I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.

The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.

What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!

I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.

I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off. 

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.

“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.

“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.

“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.

“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.

To whom it may concern,

Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola

Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.

Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes. 

Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.

I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.

I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.

Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.

“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”

“No?” He looked shocked.

“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”

“Really? I can go?”

“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.

As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.

“Hey!”

“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”

“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?

“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”

“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”

“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?” 

He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!

“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”

“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”

God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!

“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”

[slvthrs]

Omg can you write a blurb abt vinnie fucking y/n in a closet at a party during like 7 mins of heaven?

i combined this w another request so reader is also a famous actress and they fuck in a bathroom instead <3

┆.° ♡ — NSFW UNDER THE CUT

If people had to describe you in one word, it was revolutionary. You had changed the face of the acting industry forever, your stellar performances along with your enchanting beauty had people wrapped around your finger and awards practically thrown at you from the whole world.

And all that leads you to some shitty party in North Hollywood. Your assistant and best friend, Jamie, had suggested it for you to have some fun and a form of escape from your cramped schedule.

Usually you would be happy to go, you were the life of the party after all. But this wasn't some high profile party full of interesting faces, this was some shitty TikTok party you were supposed to make 'connections at'.

Bullshit.

Jamie just wanted to get drunk at a frat boy-esque party and drag you along.

So that's exactly why you were shuffling along the crowded hall with a Corona in hand to the nearest escape, and that happened to be a door at the end of the hall.

You enter the room and shut the door behind me before you hear the dreaded call of your name,

Shit this room isn't empty.

"Ahh this is who I was talking about!" Jamie states before dragging you to the group where everyones in a circle.

"Holy shit your y/n right?" A blonde boy with piercing blue eyes asks you

"Yeah that's me" You respond simply

Jamie explains their playing truth or dare and you make small talk with the boy who you quickly learned is named Jack, catching the eye of someone else who walks into the room, he's a brunette wearing a black wife beater and black pants with some nice shoes. His outfit is adorned with a Vivienne Westwood necklace and rings covering his fingers.

He's dressed far too well for a guy.

His umber eyes meet yours and he sits directly across from you and it feels like the whole room goes quiet.

But it doesn't.

Your friend quickly snaps you back into reality as the game begins. It's calm at first, take your shirt off, do a dumb dance, tell everyone who your crush is, easy stuff.

But Jack's eyes twinkle with a dumb idea and when it's your turn to do a dare her eyes meet the brunette boy before the two of you,

"Hey y/nnnn" He draws out,

"I dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven with Vinnie." He announced to the room while pointing at the boy who caught your attention earlier.

"Huh what?" Vinnie questions, he zoned out long ago so he doesn't really realize what's happening until Jack is pulling him up and Jessie is pulling you up, shoving both of you into a bathroom.

What the…

You get shoved into a cramped bathroom with the brunette and both of you stand at opposite ends just registering what's happening.

He rushes up to the door to open it but it quickly gets slammed on his face as he starts banging on it begging his friends to let him out, tugging on the door handle.

Whilst you, instead of helping, can’t stop staring at the way the boy’s arms flex across the door and how his hands basically engulf the handle.

Being famous has its perks but having relationships exposed to the public and therefore not being able to date or hook up without fears that it's for publicity is definitely not one of them.

But with this boy it’s different, he’s hotter than most of your co stars and definitely worth the risk.

After he surrenders to his fate he leans back against the wall opposing where you stand, against the sink.

His eyes rake over your body as he takes in your dress, its black and pink with no straps as is sheer in the middle with a tiny pink bow tying it all together.

You watch in interest and confusion as he basically eye fucks you with his head tilted to the side and hands deep in his pocket.

The room is filled with a tense fog until you finally break the silence, “So um what are we supposed to do in here?”

His eyebrow twitches up while looking at your addictive eyes, “Well usually people are supposed to have sex in here but we just met so I’m not gonna say that.” He ends his sentence with a chuckle.

“Yeah I dunno, tell me about yourself.” I ask but in reality I just want to hear him talk more to hear his voice 

He trails off explaining to me what he does and simply things like that but instead my eyes trail down to his lips and before you know it he realizes and shuts up, much to your dismay, and pulls you close near his face.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he brushes his thumb over your lips. Before you know it, you're kissing him, your hands tangled in his hair. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the moment.

At first, you're hesitant, unsure of what to do. But as Vinnie deepens the kiss, you feel yourself giving in to the moment. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer as your tongues fight for dominance in each other's mouths.

The heat between you and Vinnie intensifies as the minutes tick by, and before you know it,  Vinnie’s mouth and yours keep locking as you continue the make out session before Vinnie comes up with a stupidly hot idea.

His lips move downward to the crook of your neck as he sucks as you continue to whine and squirm under him,

His breathes are heavy and laced with Hennessy before he asks you, “Hey baby, can I fuck you?”

If you were acting smart you would say no, in fact you wouldn’t be doing all of this but you really aren’t that smart are you?

“Yeah,” You breath out before continuing, “But you only have seven minutes.”

"Seven minutes, huh?" he says, leaning in close. "That's not a lot of time."

“It’s a challenge, are you sure you're up to it?” You tease

“I should be asking you that, for the way I'm gonna make a total mess out of you by the end of this.” He laughs lifting you up to the sink counter and kissing you again as his hands ride up your thighs, bunching up your dress at your waist.

He moves closer to you rubbing his clothed cock all over your cunt watching you squirm and pull at his shirt in an attempt for him to understand to take his shirt off.

He gets the hint and pulls it off over his head and spins you around so he can press your stomach down into the cold tile of the sink counter.

He makes sure everything goes fast. Your friends are gonna be here as soon as the 7, now 6, minutes drain.

He’s pounding into you at a ruthless pace whilst you try your hardest not to say too much. He grips into your hair so he can look at the tears well into your eyes and he leans down to suck into your neck wine colored bruises.

His hands trail down to your clit making you jerk your hip as they make contact, he makes figure 8’s on them as your legs tremble, his hands work in a sweet symphony with his dick, providing you the most pleasure possible as you suppress your moans with a shit mouth.

His thrusts slow for a moment before slamming into you and before you realise your coming undone right before him in, 5 fucking minutes.

“Yeah good job, you did so well pretty.” He states pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he cums inside of you.

Fuck hopefully he doesn’t have an STD.

Both of you detach and fix your outfits before a pounding is heard on the outside of the door and your respective friends pull you two out.

“Y’know y/n I knew you were trouble, but I didn’t think you were ‘getting fucked in the bathroom by a stranger trouble.’” Vinnie states while leaning down to you and leaving with a wink.

You have a gut feeling this isn’t the last you're gonna see of him.

[rowanisawriter]

how abt director’s commentary for “juxtaposition” bc that fic makes me rotate johnny silverhand in my head like a reheated mug of tea and I love ur take on corpo V

He wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole if he wasn’t stuck in her body, the body he wants so bad it feels like an ache, the body he wants to cram full of nicotine and whiskey and whatever fucking pills he can fit in his hands. He hates how perfect her skin is, no freckles, no scars. How perfect her hands are. He touches her wrist, the green veins that pulse just under her pristine skin, and wants to bite her hard enough to draw blood.

“Why do you corpo types always polish away every imperfection like you’re fucking robots?” he says.

She lifts her shirt and shows him the scar on the skin that stretches over her hip bone from the last gig or whatever that they did. He remembers they spent the money from that one on the new apartment, that she got it for him because he wouldn’t shut up about that nasty megabuilding unit, and he buried the thought that she had gotten hurt because he had gotten bored.

He buries it again. He’s so good at that, good at overwriting the past just as his engram overwrites V. Second nature. Evolution.

“Here’s a scar you can see,” she says, and he runs a finger along her hip bone, over the scar and trailing across her belly, raising goosebumps in his wake. “And in my head, a scar you can’t see but you can feel it all the same. Can’t you?”

He shrugs. She shifts and his hand drops onto the bed and bounces just a little.

“I’m in your head,” she tells him. “And it smells like guilt in here. Like shit.”

ahhhhh thank you for asking! tbh juxtaposition is one of my favorite things i’ve written 🥹

ask me for director’s commentary on one of my dumb ass stories

ok so, from the beginning i wanted to somehow convey just how strikingly different a corpo v is compared to johnny but also how similar. i also really really liked the idea that they are actually trapped in the same body. the game has to show us that they’re different units because it is more dramatic to see johnny outside of v’s body, it looks cooler to see keanu!! but in the story i kept them in the same body the entire time, it gave the whole fic a very disjointed feeling because some passages had johnny acknowledging they were the same person and some had him creating some kind of mental block to separate them, as the thought that he was now a corpo/corpo adjacent was too much for him to bear.

this scene is near the end and i wanted johnny to come to some kind of understanding that v isn’t what he thinks she is and that he actually can survive with her in this body, that the two of them are kinda similar at least in stubbornness and pride, that she is willing to get her (their) hands dirty and shows him the scar as proof. he immediately buries this and literally right after this he tells her to go punch the wall and get more scars. like the vengeful insane rocker boy he is, enough is never enough for him lol. but v is willing to do this to get him on her side because she’s in love with him and he’s willing to acknowledge she might not be just corpo shit because he’s in love with her 😭 god i love this story so much 😭

a few more scenes here really are ingrained in my brain forever, there is some inner monologue for johnny that aren’t in quotations but are still in first person, just chaotic methods of writing lol i felt during my playthroughs that johnny was a presence akin to a tumor, an aggressive shadow in v’s mind, his thoughts as full of hatred and resentment as they were just churning in v’s head, sometimes his monologues can be overbearing and overwhelming and i tried to convey that in the fic by leaving them outside of quotation, as if he was hijacking the narrative just as he’s hijacking v’s mind.

anyway!! lol thanks for letting me rant about this story it is also rotating in my head like a mug of tea tbh!!!!

[touyasdoll]

Ash…bby…I’m just thinking about a thing.

The thing being Dabi and his fuckable-ness for lack of a better term.

Just like…how jealous Dabi gets when you’re being as helpful as you can around the LOV hideout? Cooking breakfast…tending to wounds when you can. Shiggy and Spinner have definitely noticed your presence.

You’re not doing anything wrong at all but the shorts you’re wearing are drawing the attention of other’s and while Dabi loves your confidence, he hates other people looking at you.

So he gives you a warning…then you wear them again 😈

Idk I just wanna start shit with some of my favorite characters and see how they’d handle it tbh

Lilith, my love!! Bless you and your beautiful brain 😩 I started this v drunk & am finishing it sober lmao bear with me pls.

Forever

pairing: Dabi/Touya x villain!reader

warnings: marking/branding, quirk play, possessive behavior, biting, exhibitionism, daddy kink, degradation (v light/to be safe), fingering, despite these warnings, he’s soft in this. Go figure.

“Thanks again for making breakfast. Sometimes I really don’t know what we’d do without you around,”Spinner’s smiling politely enough, innocently enough when he says it, but Dabi knows better.

He knows better, because he sees the way that fucking lizard’s eyes attach to your ass when your insist that ‘it’s nothing” and walk away to get to cleaning up the kitchen.

He sees the way Shigaraki ogles you when you take it upon yourself to tidy up the place. Bending over to pick up this and that. Shit that he knows the bastard purposefully left out of place just to watch you like he’s doing now.

He sees the way Compress can’t seem to keep his eyes off your tits when you’re hunched over trying to patch up the gash on his arm. The idiot always seems a little too pleased to complain to you whenever he’s been injured.

He sees it all. And he’s just about fucking sick of these entitled jackasses leering at what’s his.

It’s always the worst when you dress like this. Sure, he loves the view, but he hates sharing. Never has been very good at it. Never will be, he assumes.

Those skimpy shorts that and those shirts that hug your curves just the right way have the other men circling you like sharks in the water. You’re the freshly wounded prey.

It’s like they’re always waiting to pounce. Always waiting for you to open that door, just a crack. That would do it. At least they’re not dumb enough to actively pursue you. He would have to roast them if they tried and Shigaraki would likely drone on and on about that at the next meeting, if it were to happen. Another torture that he would rather be spared from.

So he thinks to minimize the risk. He asks you as politely as he can to, "Maybe not wear those shorts around the other guys, okay, doll?"

But do you listen? No. Of course you don't. Dabi didn't fall so head over heels for you, because you always do what you’re told. He figured you wouldn't exactly take to him policing your outfits, so he'd expected this.

And being the crafty bastard that he is, he’d come up with another solution.

"Hey, doll," he smiles sleepily at you from his position propped up against the counter, making you wonder when he slipped behind the open refrigerator door as you close it and nearly jump out of your skin.

"Oh!" You let out a breath, still instinctively clutching your chest, which is well defined by the low cut shirt you decided to wear today; out of spite, perhaps? He thought there was a good chance of it. "Babe, you scared the shit out of me!"

You playfully smack his chest with the pack of bacon you've retrieved from the fridge and he only smirks in reply, pushing off the counter to follow you to the stove.

His hands catch your hips, gripping them tight as he slides you in front of him, pinning you to the counter by pressing his stirring erection flush up against your ass, half of which was visible from beneath the shorts you'd decided to wear yet again today, unknowingly setting your boyfriend's plan into motion.

"Babe!" You chortle, admonishing him in a hushed tone while looking over your shoulder to see if anyone was around before you met his flickering blue irises.

"'S'matter, doll? Don't you like when I touch you like this?" His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck before his teeth sink into it, pulling a soft groan from your lips that sends a jolt to his cock, prompting it to rise to full mast as he ruts against you.

"Y-yes, but—"

"Someone's gonna see?" He chuckles, a warm, dark echo against your skin. "That's the idea, sweetheart. Gotta remind these assholes not to touch what isn't theirs from time to time. It's a tough concept to grasp for people like us," he murmurs, dragging his mismatched lips along the back of your neck to litter kisses along the other side.

"'M'all yours, Touya," you whisper quietly, fighting off the moan hiding just behind your lips.

"And I'm all yours. You know that. I know that, baby," his tongue runs over your pulse and that moan of yours slips out. "But do they?"

You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning forward to bend you over the counter as he grazes the nape of your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy," you whimper, pressing your palms flat to the surface in front of you, eagerly pushing back against him in search of friction.

"Mm, we'll get to that in a minute, doll," he brings his lips to the shell of your ear, letting his breath fan over it before he growls, low and deep, "Daddy's gotta make sure that everyone knows who you belong to.”

His hand drops from your hip, moving to your thigh to slowly climb up the back of it while his palm begins to heat up. You squirm as the heat continues to rise, it’s not painful yet, but you have a feeling it’s about to be.

“‘S’okay,” he says softly, a quiet reassurance in your ear. “Won’t do it unless you want me to.”

The arm around your waist slides further south, slipping into your shorts, so that his middle finger can slide between your folds.

“Fuck,” he marvels in a hushed rasp. His lids fall shut and his cocks throbs against your ass as he discovers the slick dripping from your core. “You’re already so wet for me. Willing to bet you want me to do it, huh, doll?”

He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth, tugging gently as he plunges the finger into your empty hole, making you mewl, a cautious plea for more as you reach back and knit your fingers into his hair.

“Yeah, you want me to burn you, don’t you? Want to be permanently mine? All mine.” He draws out the the last word to the tempo of the slow and intentional rut of his hips, the idea clearly making him as excited as it’s making you.

You nod, a soft whimper spouting from pursed lips as your brows pull together, “Yes, daddy, please. Wanna be yours forever.”

A gruff grunt escapes him as you utter the word ‘forever’. He shifts behind you, sliding his hips to one side of your body to pin you to the counter and expose your ass cheek from beneath your shorts as he tugs it up high, wedging it between your cheeks to allow him access to the full expanse of your plush skin.

“You sure ‘bout this, doll?” He can feel his palm itching as it glides over the globe of your ass, he wants to do it already, but he needs to be certain. “No takin’ this one back.”

You inhale a quick breath and nod, insistent. “‘M’sure, Touya,” you breathe out. “Forever,” you repeat thoughtfully, bracing yourself against the counter with a tight grip on the edge of it.

His forehead drops against the back of your neck, another quiet groan leaving him at the thought of you wearing his mark for such an expanse of time.

It happens quickly. His palm suddenly and very briefly searing hot enough to leave a large, bright red hand print across your asscheek, the tips of his long fingers extending to peek out onto the very top part of your thigh.

You hiss, clenching damn near every muscle in your body as the worst of it hits you before all that’s left is the singing sting.

“I know, I know,” he assuages you with gentle whispers and even gentler circles on your clit. It doesn’t do much for the pain itself, but it certainly distracts you from it. “I’m gonna take care of you, alright, doll?” He seals the promise with kisses to the nape of your neck before he rests his chin over your shoulder, affectionately nuzzling his nose against your cheek before he murmurs another promise against it. “Forever.”

[fahbev]

@whumper-in-training

ok I don’t know how long my caption is allowed to be, but here it is! The promised fan art! I REFUSE to be self-deprecating here because I actually do like these a lot. Basically, I read this amazing story called ACP- The Agency for Cryptids and the Paranormal, (https://whumper-in-training.tumblr.com/post/673130936584568832/acp-the-agency-for-cryptids-and-the) and I totally fell in love with the character of Zak. This STORY MAN! It broke my heart in half and then lovingly stitched it back together, like multiple times, and I think that’s the ESSENCE of a good story. So yeah I made fan art. 

I was in the car on a fairly long trip, and I had my sketchbook, and I was like, hey, what should I draw? Fuck it i’m drawing Zak. So I drew Zak. I originally didn’t want to deal with how the hoodie would work with all the weird perspective and just gave him a tee-shirt, but then I yelled at myself: “COWARD! Draw the hoodie!” And so I erased the shirt and drew a hoodie. I figure that the hoodie in the picrew isn’t how the hoodie actually looks, it’s just the closest approximation you can get with a picrew, so I put an alien on it because yes. While I was drawing it though, I hit a fork in the road with the pose. I was going to draw him with his hand clawed and the other on his hip, but then I was like “what if he had his arm up instead?” And so I made two versions.

I drew werewolf Zak hell ya! I spent FOREVER inking this. Okay if was only like two hours, but inking is kinda boring and thus I procrastinated, and so it took me like three days to ink it. It took much longer than usual Bc I went over each line a bunch of times to make it look like fur/hair/eyelashes, but you can’t even see it Bc the colors are so dark! Argh! Usually color more than doubles the amount of time I spend on a drawing, but this time I just quickly threw down some color in only like an hour! I was so sure I was gonna say, “it’ll be quick” and then spend another six hours on it, because that ALWAYS happens, but it actually WAS quick so yes.

Last but not least, I drew the gang all together! Technically I drew this second, and colored it first, but you get the idea! This drawing filled me with all the happy chemicals the whole time making it y’all. After several hours it kinda wore off, but every time I zoomed in on Max’s face I got a fresh rush of serotonin. I decided to draw that one scene where they all fall asleep together because it was SO WHOLESOME! I wanted to draw the whole group, but didn’t know what kind of context to do. Then I scrolled through the blog, found that scene, reread it and was like “yes! That’s the one!”. And so I drew it. I did have to look up “do Muslim women sleep with their hijabs on?” And i’m glad it was a google search and not asking a real person Bc the response I found was basically: “No, you dumbass! Why would we do that? That makes no sense-” and several sarcastic responses to the same question on Quora and i’m just like: “:’D” I did look into it a bit more and realized the hijab has to stay on Bc while they are like family, they’re still not her mahrams. Also I figure that if I was gonna post this, even if she was alone, drawing her without it would kinda be violating her privacy yk? Like i’m exposing her for the whole internet to see. Kinda like drawing her naked would be. Anyway, I love this drawing, hope you love it too!

Ok, still keep your expectations to an army crawl because I never finish stuff, but fanfic is in the works. I am probably gonna wait until it’s finished to post it though, that way I can edit things and change earlier chapters. Also! I’m a total novice writer! So it’s probably crap! I don’t care! I have this policy that I would always rather make the cringe fanfic, wear the ugly clothing, make the stupid drawings, the cursed memes, shout all the embarrassing shit, do all the dumb things that teenagers do (as long as it’s not harmful or permanent obvi), sing all the bad karaoke, embarrass myself a TON, etc, and regret it later, cringe so hard in ten years, than to never let myself do anything, constantly hold back, never reach my full potential and regret THAT in ten years. Thank you for listening to my TED Talk. I still might very well be too shy to post it though ahhhhh. For some reason i’m WAY more shy online than irl, that makes no sense. Like I can walk up to a random person and talk to them no prob, but I get super anxious going in someone’s ask box. Maybe Bc I can’t read their body and face language like that? Idk. Like I said, just don’t expect anything.

[whisperlullaby]

Don’t Over Do It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1766

Warnings: Violence, mentions of smut, mentions of disordered eating and over-exercising, explicit language.

Summary: Your boyfriend is an asshole. Bucky reminds you that you are perfect the way you are.

A/N: Listen apparently it’s sad girl Sunday over here. This is another story from a real life thing that happened to me with a Bucky twist! Thank you forever to @river-soul​ for looking over this story. I hope you guys enjoy and if I missed any warnings please let me know!

"Doll, you okay?" Bucky wondered. "You've been really quiet all morning."

When your eyes darted up, everyone around the table was staring at you.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You looked down at your soggy bowl of cereal. "Actually I'm gonna bring this back to my room. I'm a little tired." 

You got up and left before anyone could object. You made it to your room and almost had the door shut before a metal arm pushed through.

"You don't seem like yourself. Did something happen with Sean last night?"

At the mention of your boyfriend, you flinched. Letting out a sigh you allowed Bucky to step into your room. You placed the bowl on the kitchenette counter and turned to face Bucky.

"It's nothing. Just dumb relationship stuff really," you chuckled but it was a humorless sound. "I'll be fine tomorrow, I promise."

Bucky looked at you skeptically.

"Okay, but if you need anything you know you can come to me. I'm here for you."

Bucky placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he left. When you heard the sound of your door click shut, you grabbed your bowl and dumped it down the sink.

///////

The next day you were sitting in the shared kitchen picking at a bowl of blueberries while scribbling notes in your journal. You heard a chair scrape next to you as Bucky plopped down and leaned onto the table.

"Whatcha writing doll?"

You felt your face flush with heat. 

"I'm just writing down what I'm eating. Making sure it's all healthy, trying to be better about what goes in my body, ya know?" 

Bucky cocked his head.

"That seems like a lot of extra work. I don't think you need to keep track of what you're eating." 

He paused, eyes roamed over your figure. 

"You look great doll." 

You snorted.

 "Yeah okay, Buck whatever you say." 

You closed your journal and stood up.

 "I'm gonna head to the gym. You can have the rest of the blueberries if you want," you offered, leaving before Bucky could say anything to you.

/////////

Three hours later Bucky slammed open the door to the gym where you were dripping sweat on the treadmill.

"Steve said you've been here for hours, doll," Bucky stated an edge of anger in his voice. "You are going to run yourself straight to the med bay if you don't pace yourself."

You turned off the treadmill in a huff and stalked over to Bucky on shaky legs.

"I know my limit, Sergeant. I'm fine. Why are you being so nosey about my life all of a sudden? Yesterday, following me to my room. Today in the kitchen. What's your problem?"

"Yesterday you never made it out of your room. Did you eat anything for the rest of the day?" Bucky’s voice seemed to drip with concern. "You didn't even finish that poor excuse for a breakfast this morning and you've been here for three hours."

Your eyes dropped to the floor. You shifted uncomfortably under Bucky's gaze before your anger spiked again.

"It's none of your fucking business, Barnes. I need to lose a few pounds and how I do that is absolutely none of your concern." 

You started to shove past Bucky but stumbled your vision blurring. 

Bucky caught you as you fell into him.

"Sweetheart let me help you to your room, please." 

You looked up at him and nodded. He helped you into your room and placed you on the couch. You watched him disappear into the kitchen and return with some water before sitting next to you and pulling you into his side.

"Doll, you need to tell me what happened. What's making you do this to yourself?" 

You took in an unsteady breath.

"Yesterday Sean and I were making out in his car. It was getting pretty, um, hot and I went to get on his lap but he pushed me away. He said I was too big to have car sex with, that if I lost a few pounds we could try but he would be uncomfortable with how I looked now. That he couldn’t even attempt to maneuver me in such a small space."

You picked at a loose thread on Bucky's shirt. You didn't realize he had stopped breathing until you looked up at him and saw how red he was.

"He told you to lose weight. Because he couldn't figure out how to fuck you in a car?" Bucky seethed.

You shot up. 

“I don't think he meant it like that. I mean I've been meaning to slim down anyway. I know I put on a bit of weight since starting fieldwork."

Bucky cupped your face in his hands. 

"You've put on muscle, doll. You need it to kick ass, lord knows you can knock me to the mat like a pro. Your body is perfect exactly how it is. You do not need to put yourself through any of that shit to slim down."

Bucky’s thumbs brushed away your tears as they fell. 

"He's not a bad guy Bucky I'm sure he didn't mean to upset me. He's coming over tonight.  I'll talk to him about it."

Bucky sighed and shook his head. 

"If you need me I'm right next door," he offered, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve having someone like you in my life." 

You looked into Bucky's eyes and saw them flash with adoration.

"Oh, doll, you don't need to do anything. You deserve everything I can give you and more." 

Bucky pulled you close and hugged you. You melted into his embrace with ease.

//////

"Hey, Sean! You're just in time. I just finished up dinner."  

"Smells great." He looked at the table full of chicken parmesan, pasta, and garlic bread. "This all for me?"

You laughed. "Well, not all of it silly. I'm going to have some too."

"Don't you think this is a bit much? I thought you were trying to lose some weight. So we could, ya know, have fun anywhere." 

When he pinched the skin of your hips you sucked in a deep breath, willing the tears that pricked your eyes not to fall. 

"I just thought maybe this would be okay? I didn't think I looked that bad."

"Not bad babe just, you can tell you've put on some weight. I'm just trying to help you, do you have a salad? Maybe that'll be better for you instead." 

Just as Sean made his way towards the fridge, your door burst open to reveal Bucky. His chest was heaving and his eyes were shooting daggers.

You looked shocked as you watched him rush over to Sean with malicious intent. "Bucky stop, what are you doing?"

Bucky paused his movements but never took his death glare from Sean.

"I was walking by and I heard what he said to you."

Before you could react Bucky had Sean dangling midair. 

"You are a pathetic excuse for a man and you're lucky I don't beat the shit out of you right here. Have you ever taken one look at Y/N? She is perfect. And you don't appreciate her, she's over here pouring herself over dinner to make you happy and all you can do is worry about her weight." 

You were stunned as you watched Sean struggling in Bucky's grasp.

"Babe, are you going to tell your guard dog to heel and let me down," Sean gasped frantically.

Bucky growled as you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Bucky let him go. He didn't mean anything by it.”

Bucky slowly placed him on the ground. Sean moved around Bucky to face you.

“Babe of course I didn’t mean anything by it. You look beautiful, I just thought you would want to lose some of the baby fat so we could be more adventurous.”

You heard the metal plates shift before you saw Bucky pull back to knock Sean out. You gasped as Sean collapsed on the floor unconscious.

“What has gotten into you!? You heard him, he didn’t mean it he is just trying to look out for me.” You pushed Bucky back. “Why can’t you just listen to him?! He’s right! I just need to watch what I eat. Once I lose the weight I’ll be...I’ll earn his love.”

You looked into Bucky’s eyes and saw his heartbreak in real-time. 

“Y/N. You do not need to lose a single inch on yourself. Sean is a delusional asshat who wouldn’t know a gorgeous dame if she punched him in the face. You do not need to earn a person’s love.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment before you crumbled to the floor sobbing. He rushed over and cradled you to his chest, soothing you with his hands, drawing gentle patterns along your back. Sean started to stir and Bucky gently pushed you off his lap to stand and grab Sean by the collar.

“You are gone. Don’t contact her again and if I hear you’ve been around I’ll make sure you stay out a lot longer than you were,” Bucky threatened before throwing him out of your apartment.

He returned to you and helped you up. You offered him a gentle smile.

“Why did you do that Bucky?” You held your breath while you waited for his answer.

Bucky looked softly into your eyes. 

“Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing inside and out. Hearing what he was doing to you, warping your perception of yourself into something dangerous, I couldn’t live with myself if I stood back and did nothing. I had to protect my best girl.”

He reached out and wiped a stray tear off your face. You smiled from ear to ear and grabbed his hand to press a soft kiss on the palm.

“Thank you,” you told him, eyeing the table of food. “Well I cooked all of this and it’s probably going to get cold if we don’t eat it soon.”

“You asking me to dinner doll?” Bucky smirked.

“Well, it’s a start to thank you for everything you have done for me over the last few days. Besides I’m starving.” You started to turn around to grab the plates off the counter when Bucky grabbed your arm spinning you into him. He kissed you breathless and you were quick to deepen the kiss. 

When Bucky pulled back he was grinning.

“Let’s eat, then maybe I can show you how real men are able to fuck in a car.”

[eirist]

In the Heat of the Moment

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: For Day 3—Nami’s Day—of the ZoNa Days event (at @zonamievents). I’m already late but still posting it. It’s unfair if it’s only Zoro who gets an entry.

In the Heat of the Moment is by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. I still have The Umbrella playlist to thank for being such a good company.

Summary: "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

The rain hadn’t let up from the moment it began to pour down.

Which should not have been a problem in the first place… the Straw Hats have their very own weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire after all.

If only said weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire didn't get distracted, arguing with a certain green-haired swordsman.

"This is your fault!" Nami complained, rubbing her arms with her hands in a poor attempt to keep the emerging chill away.

​Somehow satisfied, she folded her arms across her chest as she sulkily glared at the rain which has now completely turned into a steady downpour.

​Luckily she was able to pull the man with her towards an alcove in the town's wall before they got drenched. It was an uncomfortable fit, as they were almost pressed to each other, but it'll do.

​Zoro was snarling beside her. "This rain is MY fault?" He huffed. "Right! It's my fault coz I absolutely can make it rain on a whim!"

Nami turned sharply towards him, glaring daggers. "If you hadn't gotten lost—" 

"I DON'T GET LOST!" 

"—like the idiot that you are," she continued ignoring Zoro's outburst, deliberately raising her tone and effectively drowning his retort with her shrill voice. "Then we wouldn't be stuck in here ZORO!" Her voice jumped another octave when she said his name. "In. HERE!" She repeated the words, making sure to emphasize them and hoping to drill it straight into his thick, dumb skull. 

"Tch! Then you shouldn't have followed me!" The former bounty hunter groused.

​"Besides, aren't you supposed to be good at predicting the weather?" He commented sardonically. "Shouldn't you have known that it’s going to rain today?" 

Nami gaped at him disbelievingly. ​And heat rose to her cheeks.

​She gave his shin a good kick for that.

​​"Ite!" 

​"I know that!" Nami practically shrieked at him. "That's why I followed you here to tell you about it! Is this the thanks I get from making sure you don't get your dumb self lost in this island while a storm is brewing?!"

"Again woman, I DON'T GET LOST!" Not the one to be deterred, Zoro raised his own voice to match hers. "And damn it! Stop kicking me!"

​"Bullshit!" The ever-feisty navigator exclaimed. "That a load of crap and you know it!"

​She angrily poked his chest with her finger. "If I leave you to your own devices... We. Would. Never. Find. You!" She punctuated each word with a prod on his torso. As if that would actually make the idea sink unto him. "I don't want Luffy and Chopper whining about how you are lost and that we should find you!

​Zoro grabbed her hand to stop her from poking a hole in him. Grasping it firmly he all but shouted back at her. "I will be fine! I will find my way back to the Sunny!"

“Hah! Fat chance of that happening!” 

​They were almost nose to nose by this time; all the while scowling at each other, both waiting for the other to back down.

Now only the sound of the rain falling heavily down the soaked earth can be heard as they continued their stare off. Along with the sharp intake of breaths coming from the two of them because honestly, their shouting matches can be quite arduous.

​As the glowering continued; Zoro thought he caught a glint, a spark from behind Nami's eyes before those warm brown orbs widened.

​In what could only be a realization that their current position is leaning towards… precarious. It was also not helping that his own eye had darted all over her face, taking in the flush on her cheeks. Despite it coming from indignation, she still looks...

 ... pretty.

​He almost choked at his thoughts. When did he turn into that shit cook?

Zoro inhaled sharply and realized what a wrong move that was. He caught a whiff of Nami’s signature scent. Sweet with an undertone of zestiness that reminds him of her mikan fruits at their peak of ripeness—that certain moment that makes you want to steal one so you can taste them...

​The color on her face deepened and Zoro wasn't sure if it was because she was getting angrier and angrier by the minute.

Or... If it was because she saw that his stare lingered for more than a second or two at her lips. ​"Screw this!" He grunted, instantly averting his gaze. He felt his face heating up and to get out of their rather 'awkward' situation, he immediately resorted to his favorite defense mechanism whenever he faces off against this orange-haired devil incarnate.

Losing his temper on her. 

"You are not my keeper woman!" He snapped at her before immediately stepping out of their sanctuary and into the rain.

That made Nami snap to attention. "Hey!"

​Without another word Zoro turn around and started walking away from her despite the torrential rain.

WALKING. AWAY. FROM. HER.

While it’s raining cats and dogs. 

 "Zorooo!!!" He heard Nami screeched his name, horrified that he would actually leave her alone. There was no way he was getting back in there with her. Not when it occurred to him that he was only a second away from grabbing her...

...and kissing her.

​He walked in faster strides when she called him again. He had to get away from her. He needed to get away from her.

Far away.

​Because honestly she was driving him crazy lately with all these thoughts of wanting to kiss her surfacing every moment whenever he was with her.  

And who knows what the repercussions are? This is Nami they're talking about. She would probably sic ero-cook and even Luffy if he dared to even try. Or rat him out to either Robin or Usopp or both.

Or charge him more than what his current bounty is.

He winced at that.

​For now he needed to get away and calm himself so he can reflect...

​There was no warning as something collided at his back, almost making him stumble down the wet ground.

Did someone just attack him?

​But the presence wasn't threatening, even if its arms were wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, throttling him.

"YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE ME ALONE THERE RORONOA ZORO!" Nami deliberately yelled at his ear, probably making his ear drum shatter and rendering him forever deaf. In a split second the Supernova realized that Nami… had jumped him.

​"Hey! Get off witch!"

"No!" "Get off!" "I said no!"

​"Get off now or I'll--"

Her hold around his neck tightened. "Or you'll what?" Nami hissed right in his ear in a tone so dangerously low that an actual chill ran down Zoro's spine. He gave her arm a light slap, a silent gesture to loosen her hold because she was cutting off his air. When she didn't relent, he effortlessly bounced her up his back.

​With a squeak of surprise, her arms slackened and he was able to finally draw in some air.

Nami’s hands grabbed at his shirt in an attempt to prevent herself from slipping from his back. Zoro tried to shake her off him. But the cat burglar swiftly clung onto him by locking her legs around his waist.

His remaining eye widened at that. 

"Nami!"  ​ "Stop trying to shake me off Zoro!" Nami protested as she held on to him tightly. Her knee knocked against his katanas and he scowled. "Then stop strangling me damn it!" "You deserve it you ass! Leaving me alone like that! Wait until the others hear about this you brute!" ​ Zoro muttered an expletive under his breath. Nami is a real witch!

He can feel her sliding down his back again. She was having a hard time clinging onto him because his shirt and her arms and legs were all wet from the rain water.

"I'm charging you for all these Zoro!" She muttered against his ear, her breath hot against his skin… a stark contrast from the cold rain water falling down on them. "The hell you are!" He managed to retort. She was speaking from his blind side and even as he tilted his head, he cannot see her face or her expression.

The next thing he knew… her fist had descended on his head.

“The hell! Why did you hit me?!”

“Because you are a moron.”

“That’s it get off me!”

“No!!”

​They continued struggling against each other, right in the middle of the rain that was soaking them to the bone.

​And Zoro realized then and there that Nami was quite nimble. She had quickly managed to change her position from his back to his side with her legs still locked around him.

He really didn't know what to do with that information, except it's going to be really handy once he gets the chance to...

​​​Fuck! ​​ She had hit him on the head with her fist ​again.​ That’s twice already.  Why are her punches hurting him so much? Was it clad in haki?? "Argh! Nami stop it!" He tilted his head towards her so he can growl and glare at her all at the same time.

She just gave him a haughty serves-you-right grin.

In retaliation he bounced her against him again. 

​Which was a wrong move. Because all it did was rubbed her breasts against him and press her closer to him.

It was a good thing the rain was drowning them.   Though it did made her yelp in surprise. He’s good with that.

​"Argh! Stay still Zoro! I swear if you drop me down I'm going to—"

“To what?” His steely eye met hers. This time it was his turn to challenge her.

Nami’s hold around his neck tightened, probably because her grip on him was slipping again because she was just as wet as he is and also because she still wants to choke the shit out of him for leaving her alone earlier.

She lifted her chin slightly so she could gaze back at him even as the rain water continued trickling down her face.

Was it just him or Nami’s quite comfortable where she is right now?

He knew she was trying to give him the evil eye. But it was hard to do that when the droplets of rain keep clinging to her lashes and she had to blink them away in a manner that affects him greatly.

And there was it… that familiar glint, that spark he saw when they were back in the alcove taking shelter from this rain.

“Look Zoro,” she finally sighed. “I just wanted to make sure you will come back to the Sunny in one piece and not get stranded in this weather."

​Zoro blinked. He was not expecting that.

​Then his face broke into a smirk. "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

“Y-y-ou!” She stammered.

He grinned at her as she sputtered, her face turn absolutely and adorably red.

To think, he actually high-tailed it out of there earlier with his tail between his legs all because he can't face the realization that he wanted this woman.

But there was no denying it now. Amidst this rain it was very clear. That was all he needed.

He finally decided to take a chance instead of running away from it like a coward. ​

He tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. "You can punch me or charge me later Nami," was all he said before he pressed his lips on hers.

Her body jerked in surprised. His arm instantly wrapped around her waist to secure her as one of her hands grasp at his shirt tightly.

​He swore he heard and felt her murmur 'oh fuck' against his lips before she deepened their kiss.

​They pulled apart slightly for air. Zoro hauled her up a little and Nami was about to lean down to for another kiss…

“A-choo!”

They looked at each other in surprise. Nami’s hand automatically covered her mouth as her face turned red again… this time for a very different reason.

“Ehem!”

They both turn their heads towards the sound and saw an elderly man standing a few feet away from them under an umbrella.

He was shaking his head as he looked at them.

“You youngsters should just get a room you know. You risk getting sick doing things out here in the open that should be done privately.”

[imagineredwood]

13. Tequila and lap dances 🍹🍑

Summary:  Tequila makes you let loose and Coco reaps the benefits of that.

Pairing: Coco Cruz x reader 

Warnings: Mention of alcohol and smoking, lapdances, PDA

Word count: 797

A/N: Coco in this shirt will forever fuck me up.

You sipped from your glass as your hips swayed in time with the beat, the music loud while it boomed around you. The MC hadn't had a party in what felt like forever, and now that things had settled down some, they were more than making up for it. There were people everywhere, most eyes on the cage where Angel and Riz were fighting. Others were focused on each other, brothers sitting and talking as they smoked, others with their eyes on the women they were flirting with. You were standing by yourself, watching the fight after having gone and gotten yourself another Sex on the Beach, heavier on the tequila this time. You watched and sipped, a whistle that was undeniably Coco's drawing your attention away. Turning to look over your shoulder, you found him sitting there right on the bench where you had left him, body relaxed, legs spread out. His lap looked as inviting as ever as he took a drag from his cigarette, brown eyes warm as they stared at you. He lifted his other hand, motioning to you with one single finger for you to come back to him.  

Sparing one last glance at the fight, you turned all the way around, taking your time as you walked toward your Old Man. You watched as his eyes raked over your form, eating you up with just a look. It made you feel sexy and powerful and you slowed down just a bit. Building the anticipation, you made sure to make your hips extra loose as you walked, Coco's eyes locking on them. He could tell what you were doing and he smirked, spreading his legs even wider to accommodate the growing girth at the sight of you.

Soon enough you were in front of him once more, the Mayan taking another long drag from the cigarette while he looked up at you. Bouncing his leg, he silently instructed you and you obeyed, climbing into his lap to settle in. Stubbing out what was left of his smoke, he placed both his hands on your hips, pushing his face up toward you for a kiss. Your smile made his blood rush and so did the feeling of your lips on his. His tongue snaked out to lick at your pout, the liquor as flavorful as you.

"Nice and sweet."

You grinned, looking at him through tipsy eyes.

"Me or the pineapple juice?"

The sniper smirked, hands coming down to rest on the tops of your thighs, trailing up and down.

"That pineapple juice ain't got shit on you."

The compliment had you smiling again, this time you being the one to go for the kiss. It wasn't as quick and cute as Coco's had been though. You pressed your mouth against his feverishly, hips swiveling on his lap as you touched your tongue against his. You pulled away after a moment to breathe, Coco's eyes growing darker as they peered up at you.

"You know how you get when you drink tequila."

You weren't sure if it was a warning or simply a statement but you smiled regardless, taking another sip from your cold glass before placing it down on the table beside you. Coco's hands were still on your thighs, feeling the warm plush skin exposed from your shorts. The alcohol had your senses turned up, the feeling of his hands on you tingling. Another song came on, one of your favorites, and your body had a mind of its own then, rocking in the Mayan's lap until he was squeezing your thighs gently, clearly warning you now.

"Chill mami,"

You didn't pay him any mind, hips still grinding on the hardness that was pressing into you from beneath. You played dumb, offering your man a pout.

"I thought you liked it when I gave you lap dances?"

He growled low in his throat, the vibration felt by your hands as they rested on his chest.

"Not where other men can see you."

Looking around, you saw that no one was looking at you, everyone engrossed in their own conversations. Your shrug was careless as you looked back at him, leaning even more into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"No one's looking. Even if they were, they know I'm all yours anyway."

You sealed your statement by your tongue snaking out, licking up the black ink in his skin right under his ear, hearing his huff.

"Get up."

Your drunken giggle was quiet in his ear before he was pushing you off himself, standing with you. His hands were on fire as they firmly cased around your waist, his eyes just as heated as they looked at you.

"How about we go to the bathroom real quick."

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl​ @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @bisexual-space-slut @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. six)

a/n: so after the hell week we all survived in the good ol’ USA my brain finally decided to let me actually write. tbh i wrote this about four times before i forced myself to just finish it and stop tweaking it.

Five

Mat’s kitchen looked like a tornado had run through it. The usually pristine, absolutely untouched kitchen of the young bachelor was getting more use in the twenty minutes Mat had been awake than it ever had. Truthfully, Mat wasn’t a morning person. Mat slept like a rock, and he thought there was nothing besides the fear of his coach that could get him up earlier than noon, but he was wrong. You had him up before eight, hoping if he could beat you to waking up you wouldn’t have a chance to sneak out on him. He did, opening his eyes to catch you snoring softly beside him. He laid there for a moment, his eyes on you because he almost in disbelief you actually stayed. It was a moment of peace, the complete opposite of the mess you’d both gotten yourselves into. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t debating how he was going to get someone to leave, he was figuring out how he was going to get you to stay.

Mat was an absolute whore, and he didn’t care one bit. Why should he? He was young, he was at the top of his game, and his ego got a little bigger everyday. He was just as guilty as you were when it came to his lack of commitment. Mat had never been able to be a good boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried - so he just stopped trying. His schedule wasn’t made for dating, and he never wanted to put the work in. You were different. Something clicked in Mat when he realized how enraged his body felt hearing DeAngelo talk about you the way he did. He was going to let it go, and in hindsight maybe he should have, but he didn’t want to. That protective feeling took over his body because it was too strong for him to shove back down before it got out.

Mat would have told you he loved you after that game, because he does, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. The reality of what would happen if this was real scared him, but not nearly as much as he knew it had to scare you. You had something to lose, a life that Mat just wouldn’t be apart of. Mat wasn’t in a position to ask you to give that up, especially for someone who you weren’t even dating. Mat knew if he moved too quickly you’d get spooked and run away without giving Mat a second thought. He’d disappear from your memory like everyone before him.

Mat’s thoughts were broken by the sound of your feet padding into his kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist while you pressed a kiss to his back, “Hi pretty girl.”

This was uncharted territory, the morning after. You’d always been an expert, leaving yourself enough time to sneak out and leave before anyone would notice you were gone. That kept your heart safe, free from the feelings that were present in this very moment. You couldn’t have left last night, slipping out of Mat’s bed and into a cab in the middle of the night, but something stopped you, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought I’d try to make you breakfast,” Mat admits, a smile on his face while he turned off the stove, eggs forgotten to look at you, “I’ll get better at it, I promise, breakfast can be my thing.”

“Your thing?” You muse, letting Mat gently push you onto the island, standing between your legs.

“Yeah, when we fall in love or whatever, I’ll make breakfast,” Mat chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Barz,” You sigh, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder while you savored the last few moments of peace you were feeling. You were going to have leave his place, off to a four game road trip where Mat was free to fuck whoever he wanted.

Mat’s finger was gently gliding over your face, “If I’m crazy it’s because you made me crazy.”

“You were insane before I met you,” You defend not daring to open your eyes and meet Mat’s gaze, “And now you’re just annoying.”

“I don’t remember being annoying when you were begging me to fuck you last night,” Mat counters back, hands moving to your bare thighs, the warmth from his hands was a stark contrast from the cool counter, “If I’m correct it sounded something like Mat please.”

“Don’t push your luck Mat,” You threaten, his impersonation of you from the night before stopping almost immediately.

“Would I push it if I asked you to stay until my flight later?” Mat asks, eyes full of hope while he tries to hang onto the moment just a little bit longer.

“If you never talk about it again,” You nod, deciding that the damage was already done. You were so far gone a few more hours couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“We can talk about how fucking good you look in orange and blue though,” Mat teases, a grin on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, looking down and realizing just what shirt he had given you the night before. A bright white number thirteen in the corner, with an Islanders logo present on the front.

“Mat if you don’t take this off of me right this second.”

“You never have to ask me twice to take off your shirt babe.”

***

You leaned your head against the window of the private jet that definitely cost more for one flight than your entire salary, taking a deep breath and a break from the laundry list of emails you were due to answer. You were flying to St. Louis for the All Star Game, your plans of a week long vacation somewhere warm with some of the team and their significant others thrown out the door the second Chris stepped in for Panarin last minute. Not even two minutes later, Charlotte strutted over to your desk to tell you that without a need for someone to translate for Artemi, you were the new kid and that meant you had to suffer through the weekend while everyone else took their vacations. 

“At least pretend to be excited,” Chris mutters next to you, taking a break from his own reading and elbowing you in the side.

“It’s hard to be excited when everyone’s on a beach and we’re flying to Missouri in January,” You snark back, pulling your glasses off your face and rubbing your eyes.

“You either need to start sleeping or stop hanging out with that secret boyfriend of yours,” Chris jokes, but it struck a nerve with you.

Mat wasn’t your boyfriend. Mat. Wasn’t. Your. Boyfriend. He didn’t get to have all of you, because he didn’t deserve it - no man does. Nothing about the very small amount of vulnerability that he got to see after that game meant anything. You left that morning and he went on a four game road trip and the world spun on. You could stop whenever you wanted to, move on with some other dumb boy who didn’t care more about you in clothes than without. But did you want to? That was a debate you’d been having with yourself for days.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You grumble, gritting through your teeth. Technically, it wasn’t a total lie.

“So you are seeing someone!” Chris points out, as if your deliberate words were going to make it past him. Chris held most of the intelligence on the entire Rangers roster, and there was nothing that he didn’t pick up, “So, What's the deal? He doesn’t want anyone to know about you or you don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“It’s mutual,” You hum, sipping the coffee that had gone cold.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Chris questions, a cautious tone to his voice, “Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it or anything-”

“No I haven’t found a sugar daddy,” You roll your eyes, waiving Chris and sparing him the lecture that there’s nothing wrong with the idea at all, “We’re just in a limbo.”

“For what it’s worth,” Chris says, taking a deep breath before he finished his thought, “You seem happy, you haven’t snapped on Tony in almost a week.”

“Thanks Chris,” You laugh softly, popping a headphone back into your ear so you could finish up some work.

***

Mat was in absolute disbelief the moment he saw you step into the hotel lobby. You weren’t supposed to be in St. Louis, you were supposed to be on some island in a bikini making him wish he wasn’t good enough to be selected for the All Star game at all. Mat scratched his head for an answer as to why you didn’t mention the change of plans, but then the thing that he spent his entire roadie before he left for St. Louis entered his brain at full speed.

You’re not her boyfriend.

Mat owed you nothing, and you didn’t have to tell him anything you didn’t want to. Mat honestly knew about four things about you and all of them related to your job. He was dying to know everything, even the stuff that didn’t matter that much. Hell, Mat would’ve killed to see the inside of your apartment at this point. He just needed one thing, one thing that he could hold onto that you showed him that no one else got to see. He was sure he’d find it, especially after he finally got you to stay at his place, but now he was starting to think maybe he’d never crack you.

You were going to just avoid Mat like the plague. The hotel was swamped with players, their families, and any staff that had tagged along for the weekend. The city was still buzzing from last season’s Stanley Cup win and there was not a chance Mat wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, because Mat Barzal was an amazing hockey player. You hated to be reminded of it, because if you could have Mat feed you stupid compliments and never remind you of his job you’d be happy forever.

hotel sex is on the table

and you look fucking hot today

You roll your eyes, checking your phone while you were standing in line to check in. You look around the room, trying not to draw any attention to Mat who was giving you a shit eating grin from across the lobby. He looked good, a white button up tucked into suit pants that were doing his ass justice. You look at Chris, who was too engrossed in his own phone to even look back at you.

pretend like i don’t exist right now and we’ll talk

wanna play a game?

that didn’t go well for you last time Barzy

if i beat your buddy kreids tomorrow night you give me one night

you won’t

is that a yes?

fine

You turn around, giving Mat one last death stare to remind him you weren’t kidding on your plea to pretend you didn’t exist. Your job was important to you because you weren’t Mat. You weren’t going to get paid millions of dollars to play and then retire with a pretty penny in your pocket. You worked, and the stress of losing your job would definitely break you. Charlotte instilled fear in you like no other boss you ever had could, and if you got caught messing around with someone who played for another team while you were working she’d probably just fire you on the spot. Not to mention the heartbroken faces of your chosen family. Mat somehow existed in both a different and the same world as you. He understood your work life because it was so close to his, but he had his own work family and you had yours. No matter what, there would always be some sort of weird divide caused by that stupid rivalry. For now, it was just going to have to be something you’d worry about later.

***

You turned in the mirror of your hotel room, the lacy black lingerie set fit your body like a glove, and you were impressed with Mat’s taste given all he ever wore was sweatpants. You look in the corner of the room, the last piece of his little gift sitting in the box. Mat dropped it off earlier, a note on top telling you that when he inevitably smokes Chris in the faster skater competition he had something in mind. You weren’t surprised by his confidence, but you were surprised by the gift itself. Folded neatly in the box wasn’t just the lingerie, a bright blue and orange jersey was right underneath it, a shiny white number thirteen stitched into the back. You knew you didn’t have to wear it, because Mat wasn’t going to force you to do anything, but you were wet at just the thought of how animalistic Mat would probably get. You tossed on the jersey, throwing an even bigger sweatshirt and sweats over it before you snuck up to Mat’s floor- hoping Chris wouldn’t catch you leaving from the room across the hall.

You pull out the room key Mat gave you, sneaking into the door and locking it shut behind you. You slipped off your sweats, leaving you in nothing but the jersey and your panties.

“Fuck,” Mat dropped his phone from his hand the second you came into his view, “I didn’t think you’d wear it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You muse, your confidence boosting while you strutted over to Mat. He had that effect on you, the ability to always make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world - even if you didn’t feel like were, “But then you beat McDavid.”

Mat pulled you between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands toying with the jersey while he let the fabric slip through his fingers, “You look so fucking good in my jersey baby.”

“I’m proud of you Mat,” You purr into his ear, playing into Mat’s ego just a little bit. You were proud of him, and for the first time you wanted him to know. You pressed a kiss against his jaw, feeling his own breath hitch in his throat, “Can I show you?”

“Keep that jersey on and you can do whatever you want to me,” Mat admits, slipping his hand under the jersey and tapping your ass lightly.

“I’ll keep it on,” You giggle, pushing Mat on his back and getting to work. Your lips kissed down his chest with every button of his dress shirt you got undone, tossing it in the corner to be forgotten about until later. You unhooked his belt, leaving open mouth kisses just above his pants. You slid off his dress pants slowly, taking his boxers with them to let his cock spring free. Mat groaned at the sight, gathering your hair to pull it back for you.

“Wait,” Mat stops you, holding your hair back to stop you from putting your mouth on him. His finger traced your cheek, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “I just want to remember this, you look so beautiful right now.”

You could feel the heat rush your cheeks, Mat had called you to dozens of things but never once did the word beautiful ever slip through his lips, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to blow you.”

“No, baby, I mean it- fuck,” Mat groans, this thoughts halted by your mouth on his cock. His hips snapped up, hitting the back of your throat, “You’re so fucking good princess.”

You moan, hollowing your cheeks and gripping Mat’s thighs a little tighter, giving him the show you so desperately wanted. You head bobbed in a perfect rhythm, taking as much of Mat as your body could handle. Mat pushes your head back, taking a look at the line of spit that was still connected to his dick, your eyes were glassy and your throat was sore but Mat would keep you like that forever if he could, “Let me finish.”

“I’m in charge tonight,” Mat reminds you, the tone in his voice sent a chill up your spine. You knew Mat was rough, and a little demanding but he never crossed that line with you, “On your knees.”

“Like this?” You tease, sitting up on your knees to rile him up just a little bit more.

“More like this princess,” Mat stands behind you, gently pushing you down so your ass was in the air. He was quiet, bunching up his jersey so he could get a full view of the lingerie he went out and bought just for you, “Be good or I won’t let you cum pretty girl.”

Mat’s threat with a light smack to your ass, a moan escaping your lips. He slipped the black lace panties to the side, gliding one of his fingers against your folds while he pressed a kiss to your skin, “So wet for me already.”

“Only for you Mat,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes widening at your own confession.

Mat was thankful he was behind you, because if you saw the way his gaze changed from your words he’d never live it down. You looked so perfect, spread just for him. His jersey. His number. And in his own fantasy: his girl. He snapped himself back into reality, sliding into your pussy that was practically dripping in anticipation.

“Faster, fuck Mat please,” You whimpered out, trying to move yourself to get Mat to pick up the pace. He chuckled darkly, hips snapping back and forth until the only sound in the room was the string of curses leaving your mouth, “I’m close-”

Mat flipped you over before you could finish, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Tell me this pussy is mine.”

“Fuck I’m yours Mat,” You breath out, locking your eyes with his while it felt like time froze around you, “I’m yours.”

“Look at me when you cum baby,” Mat urges, his hand still gripping your chin. He picked up his place, making use of his other hand around your clit, “C’mon princess just for me.”

Your pussy fluttered around him, Mat letting out a groan while he tried to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. He looked down at you, catching your breath from your own high. You hand snuck down to his cock, pumping it slowly, “Cum on me.”

Mat nods, letting you work on his dick with your hands while he nibbled at your neck. He was going to mark you up, make you remember who you belonged to because he so desperately wanted it to be him. He spilled onto your pussy, head pressed into your neck while he came down from his own high. You both laid there for a moment, your hand gently stroking Mat’s back while you both took a moment to think about what just happened. Mat was possessive in a way he’d never been before, and you ate it up without a second thought - that had to mean something right?

“I need to get back to my room,” you whisper, afraid to break the comfortable silence.

“I know,” Mat nods, finally picking his head up, “Keep the jersey, you might need it one day.”

“Your stupidity is honestly astounding,” You joke, brushing his hair out of his face while Mat’s face turned into a pout.

“Can I take you on a date?” Mat breathes out, hoping he wasn’t reading this the wrong way, “No games, no funny business, let me take you out.”

Say no. Say no and never call him again.

“One date,” You agree against your better judgement, pushing Mat away and looking around the room to find your sweats that you snuck into his room in, “Better make it a good one.”

Mat smiles, teeth on full display while he watched you slide your pants back on, “I’m the best at everything Y/N don’t forget that.”

“Goodnight Barz,” You tease, giving him one more look before you left his room.

The elevator ride down was quiet, most of the hotel’s occupants already asleep or still out partying the weekend away. For your sake, you hoped Chris would be fast asleep like the grandpa he was. You rushed down the hallway, Mat’s jersey still hanging loosely off your frame while you looked in your hand for your room key. Your search was stopped by a throat clearing behind you. You jump, turning around to see Chris’s eyes boring into you.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 1 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: you and rafe cross paths at a boneyard kegger and find a space to escape in each other

warnings: making out, cursing, alcohol use

word count: 2.2k

a/n: so i posted this last night, then realized my account is so new that it wouldn’t show up in the search or tags. but i just got a bunch of followers, so hopefully y’all enjoy this! also, all characters in my fics are 18+, unless i specifically say otherwise. also also, fuck canon rafe, we don’t know him.

series masterlist

 The Boneyard was packed with Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons. It was the middle of the summer, the height of the party season in the Outer Banks, and there was no party like a kegger at the Boneyard. You and the Pogues were at the center of it all, music pounding in your chest louder than your heartbeat as you danced with Kie and Sarah. The liquid in your red solo cup spilled as you spun around, accidentally bumping into JJ, who was approaching the dance floor with a drunk grin on his face.

“Having fun?” He questioned as he gripped your waist to keep you from falling.

“Always am!” You slurred, gripping his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor with you and the girls.

At the beginning of the night, your dancing would have been sexy, grinding with Kie and Sarah, shaking your hips as you moved seductively. Now, you were a point of drunkenness where your legs no longer coordinated with your mind. You jumped and yelled along with the music, a goofy grin on your face. You wrapped your arms around JJ’s shoulders as you both screamed the chorus of the song, rocking back and forth like the waves not far from the dance floor. As the song faded out, JJ led you off the dance floor. You downed the last of your drink and giggled as you and JJ tripped over nothing in the sand. JJ collapsed on a log next to Pope and John B., both boys much more sober than the rest of their friends.

“You too better not puke in my living room,” John B commented.

“How dare you, I’m not even that drunk. In fact, I could go for another right now,” JJ said, standing from the log, swaying, and immediately falling back down on his ass. He stood up again, successfully, and grinned at you.

“Y/N, care to join me?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go for a walk. I want to feel the waves on my feet!” You giggled as you turned away from your friends and marched towards the ocean. The music slowly faded the farther you got, stumbling to an empty area several yards away from the party. As you stepped towards the water, letting the tide roll over your feet, you noticed a figure a few feet away sitting on the beach. He was nothing but a silhouette in the night, but you approached him anyway, your drunken state leading you to want to be a little too friendly than you normally would be. You stumbled over to the stranger, but realized as you got closer that it wasn’t a stranger at all. Rafe Cameron sat on the sand with his need pulled to his chest, hands resting on his knees. His button up shirt was halfway open, blowing slightly in the breeze as he stared at the ocean.

Being a Pogue, your normally would have avoided Kooks like the plague, especially this Kook. But for some reason, possibly your drunkenness or some invisible string of fate connecting you to him, you continued walking toward him until you were standing right above him. You unceremoniously collapsed into the sand beside him, causing him to glance at you strangely.

“What are you doing here, Pogue?” He said, though he lacked the usual venom behind the words. You turned your head towards him slightly, giving him a small smile before turning back to the ocean.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? Especially at night, you can see the moon reflecting off the water. It looks like a portal to another world that just goes on forever. Sometimes I wish I could just jump in and disappear. End up in some other universe where everything is as beautiful as the ocean.”

Rafe stared at you as you spoke. Despite you being a Pogue, he’d always found you beautiful, though if his friends asked he would use a different word like hot or fuckable. But right now, as the moon shone down on your hair and the light from the kegger illuminated your outline, he couldn’t think of any other word but beautiful. As you spoke, your words floated from your mouth and into his chest, wrapping around his heart in a comforting embrace. He had gotten into an argument with his dad before the party and he felt like shit. He’d tired to bail, but Kelce and Topper dragged him from his home on Figure 8 and down to The Cut, promising liquor and drugs would cure his bad mood. They had no idea the real reason behind his anger and sadness.

As soon as he could, he escaped from the loud and chaotic kegger to this quiet spot on the beach, needing a moment on his own to just be. Then you come along and, had you ben anyone else, he would have yelled at you to go the fuck away. But no, it was you, the Pogue who always smiled at him when they made eye contact, the one who apologized for her friends when they started shit, but wasn’t afraid to chew him out when he was the shit-starter. He’d always tried to ignore his little crush on you, knowing it would never happen. But now you were here and speaking to him like no one else had.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He replied, not taking his eyes off you. You turned and made eye contact with him, raising an eye brow at him.

“So, what’s the Kook King doing sitting over here all alone?” You asked. Rafe gave you a sad smile, breaking eye contact to look at his hands, tapping his fingers on his knees.

“I could ask the same thing of the Pogue Princess,” He said. You laughed and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never heard your laugh before but now it was the only thing he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“I’m not the Pogue Princess,” You chuckled, shaking your head, “I just wanted some air, and to feel the waves under my feet. Helps me stay grounded.”

Rafe nodded and looked back at the ocean. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a short moment. You were the one to break it.

“So? I answered your question, now you need to answer mine. And I asked first so if you don’t answer that’s just plain rude.”

Rafe chuckled and glanced at you. He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the slicked back style. You watched as his hair fell in his eyes and licked your lips. Rafe was a dick, yes, but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. All those times he and JJ were at each other’s throats, your eyes would wander to the tall boy, taking in every detail of him. You would never admit it the other Pogues, but he intrigued you. He was never as rude to you as he was to the other Pogues. Once he’d even smiled at you and said “thank you” when you’d handed him a cup of beer at a kegger. Kiara, who had been right next to you, was convinced he had been possessed.

You had never been a fan of the whole Kook versus Pogue rivalry, you thought it was cliche and dumb. But you continued to abide by the rules of the island, despite the constant urge to go up to Rafe and befriend him. After all, you had made friends with Sarah, why not the other Cameron sibling?

“Didn’t really want to come to this kegger in the first place. Since I’m here, might as well enjoy some shitty beer and a great view while trying to ignore all my problems.”

“I get that. I ignore my problems all the time. Whenever I get ice out of the freezer and a couple cubes fall to the ground, I always just kick them under the fridge.”

Rafe laughed, a genuine, joyful laugh that made your heart flutter.

“I’ve done the exact same thing many, many times,” He said.

“I’m assuming your problems are a little bigger than ice cubes.”

The smile slowly faded from his face and he nodded. “Yeah, just a little bit,”

You looked at him as a pained expression crossed his face. You already missed his laugh, and you were determined to hear it again.

“Well, can I help you ignore your problems? Even if it’s just for a little while?” You said.

Rafe looked up at you, eyes sad but a smile on his lips. “I would love that.”

You and Rafe talked about nothing as the party continued to rage on behind you. You told him all the shitty jokes you knew while he told you about embarrassing stories about his sister and his friends. You got into a short argument about what fast food place had the best fries, never coming to an agreement. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, hours maybe, but you didn’t want it to end. You had moved closer to Rafe and he to you until your thighs and shoulders were touching. The conversation had died down for a moment as you made eye contact with each other. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips, drawing your eyes to them.

“Do you know what else will help you ignore your problems?” You asked. Both of you slowly moved closer and closer towards each other, eyes flicking from eyes to lips and back again.

“What?” Rafe asked. You answered him by leaning forward and connecting your lips to his. Your hands gripped the sand for balance has he reach up to place a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand rested on your hip, gripping it as if his life depended on it. You raised your hands to run your fingers through his hair, almost falling on top of him. The Hand on your hip swiftly wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You straddled him, fingers threading through his light hair. He tasted like beer and mint and heaven. His tongue ran along her bottom lip and you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore to his heart content. His hands moved underneath your shirt, running up and down your sides. One of his thumbs brushed up against the bottom of your breast, feeling you through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a moan into his mouth that motivated him to move further. His grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against him. Your lips were soft and sweet, every negative thought disappearing from his mind, being replaced by you, you, you. Rafe didn’t want to forget a single part of this moment. He memorized the curve of your hip, the softness of your lips. The way you smelled and the way you moaned and breathed and tasted. He was euphoric, questioning whether or not this was a dream.

His hand had just ventured underneath your bra, lips creating dark spots are your neck when someone yelled from the direction of the kegger.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped open as you looked towards the edge of the kegger. In the distance, you could see the silhouette of the Pogues against the fire light. They were waving their arms and shouting your name. Rafe, however, paid no mind, sucking on the sensitive spot below your ear that made you moan.

“Rafe,” you moaned his name. You pulled his hair, forcing him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “I have to go.”

You kissed him again as you slowly removed yourself from his lap. His hand gripped your arm as you stood, your lips still attached. You giggled as your rested your forehead on his, pecking the tip of his nose. You finally disconnected from him, but your eyes never left his as you walked backwards toward the other Pogues.

“I’ll see you around, Cameron,” You said before turning on your heel, jogging towards your friends. Rafe stood their frozen, hair a mess and lips swollen as he stared at your retreating figure. A he couldn’t help but smile as he stood up, brushing the sand from his body. As he walked toward where Topper and Kelce were standing, he prayed for another moment where he got to taste your lips.

You reached the Pogues, a smile still on your face as you adjusted your messy hair.

“Ready to go?” John B asked. You nodded walked next to Kiara and Sarah towards the Twinkie. Both girls examined your giggly state and the hickies that littered your collarbone and neck.

“Who was that?” Sarah asked, smirking at you. Your words caught in your throat for a moment, unsure if you should tell the truth or not. You quickly glanced over the fire and met Rafe’s gaze. He winked at you and blush crawled up your cheeks. You quickly looked back at Sarah and smiled.

“Just some Touron,” You answered. Sarah and Kie laughed at your blushing face, asking you more questions about the Touron you had just made out with on the beach. You told them you knew nothing about them, dodging their questions and suggestive looks. Tonight had been a dream, you weren’t ready to wake up yet. As you approached the parked van, you took one last glance at Rafe and smiled. You hoped you would never wake up.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Soldier Boy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader spends the day with Dean getting to know him some more when she catches him in a lie and discovers one of his most dark secrets...

Masterlist

Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“So how old are you, Solider Boy?” you asked the next day as you walked around the park. 

“Thirty,” he said with a smirk.

“Solider Boy’s been around since the second world war. So. How old are you really?” you asked.

“I was eighteen when I was injected. I’ve aged very slowly. I do age, but it’s slow. They...I shouldn’t talk about this stuff,” he said, kicking at the ground with his boot. “Ah, fuck it, it’s in the news anyways.”

“The compound V?” you asked and he nodded.

“First successful try right here. I was still going through puberty so it took,” he said. “I guess. The science is very complicated they said. They just said you want to serve your country and I signed up.”

“What year were you born?”

“January 24th, 1926,” he said. You paused and he chuckled. “I know some women aren’t into older men.”

“I must seem like a child to you,” you said, walking again and crossing your arms.

“You’re twenty nine. I’m thirty. What’s such a big deal about that?” he smiled.

“You’re sweet,” you said. You dropped your hands by your sides, Dean taking one of them in his. “Old man ain’t wasting his time.”

“Keep it up, kiddo,” he laughed. You laced your fingers together with his hand and smiled as you looked at him. A flannel and t shirt. Jeans and boots. A baseball cap on his head. He looked so ordinary and yet he was the first superhero in existence. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I ever had a family.”

“A bit. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you said. 

“No, I want to. I don’t talk to anyone anymore. Aside from the people at Vought to try and get in The Seven but that’s like beating a dead horse at this point,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently I’m too similar in the market sector as Homelander. Go ‘merica and color scheme and that shit. I didn’t ask to be the leader or anything. I just...want to get off the kiddie squad, go do real shit out there, help people, not the stupid stuff I do now.”

“Maybe that’s why you don’t fit on The Seven. You want to help people, you don’t care about the photo op,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he said. “But to answer your other question you didn’t ask, no, I never had a family. I had parents and a brother but they’ve all passed away. All my friends are gone. It never seemed right to love a girl and have a family and watch them all grow old and...honestly I didn’t want to watch my children grow older than me and die. I can’t imagine anything worse than outliving them.”

“You’re a good man, Dean.”

“I had the occasional acquaintance, don’t get me wrong. But it was always casual, no titles, nothing formal.”

“Is this casual?” you asked. He shook his head and you bumped his shoulder. “What’s different this time?”

“A chemical made me this way. Maybe a chemical can unmake me this way. We are so advanced now compared to back then. Maybe I can age normally with some other combination. Maybe I’m stuck like this forever. I just know that the numb pit inside of me woke the fuck up when I met you and it has been quiet for a very, very long time.”

“My mom’s quiet a bit older than my dad. Age gaps don’t scare me,” you said. He chuckled and you held onto his arm. “You don’t sparkle like the twilight guy though right?”

“Oh my God, no,” he laughed. “No sparkles here. I do make sparks when bullets bounce off of me though.”

“Well now you’re just bragging,” you said. You rested your head on his arm, thinking back to a movie you used to watch as a kid, Solider Boy the lead in the thing. “Dean.”

“Hm?”

“Why did you just lie about not having a family?” you asked, pulling away from him. You knew you could have let it go, should have let it go for the sake of the mission but damn you were pissed off at him for lying to you. You crossed your arms and he frowned, going over to a nearby bench. You sat down next to him, Solider Boy rubbing his hands together. “You were in this movie my brother loved so I watched it all the time. He was a huge fan and he would never shut up about you. I never paid much attention but I remember. You had a wife and kids once.”

“You’re gonna leave after I tell you this part,” he said, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m gonna leave if you don’t tell me the truth right now. You will never see my face again. You promised you would not lie to me. Out with it Dean.”

“I wasn’t always a good person. It’s very...difficult to stay good when there’s so much bad around you. When there’s no consequences.”

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

“My son and daughter died hating me, thinking I was a monster. They died because of me. That was the breaking point for me. I walked away after that, I started over. I’d turned into this thing I didn’t recognize. I became Soldier Boy. Dean Winchester...he died back in that war. Not until the nineties did I realize what had happened to me. So I left. Went away from the world. Brought Dean back to life and Soldier Boy came back but different. Good this time. Greed, corruption. It’s not happening this time. Then you said...you made that comment about me being naive, that I’d turn eventually into an asshole supe like the rest of them. I’m terrified of that happening to me again. Maybe that’s why I like you, cause you’ll remind me not to be a monster again.”

“Why do you call yourself a monster?” you asked quietly.

“The first time I killed someone, I was mortified. The last time I did it, I laughed. It made me happy. I hurt him before I did it even. I stopped caring about people. My wife wanted a divorce. I thought she was hot, she fit my image. I told her I didn’t want one so she took some pills and told me she’d rather die than live with the devil. My kids were young adults, late twenties. I snapped at them when they blamed me for their mother’s death. My son hit me so I pushed him and he hit his head. My daughter ran out, afraid of me and was hit by a car. They died because I didn’t want to lose my image. I wasn’t even that upset at first. I thought a widow superhero, that’ll boost my numbers.”

“If that didn’t…” you said, Dean running his hands over his thighs. “What made you change?”

“I found a drawing my daughter had made me when she was small,” he said. He took out his wallet and unfolded a laminated sheet of paper holding it out to you. It was done in crayon, a few stick figures with one of them wearing a superhero outfit and the word “daddy” written above it. “She loved me once. I ripped it away from her. I found that cleaning out the house and I realized what I’d done. I’m worse than any bad guy there ever was for doing that to them. I stopped caring. When you stop caring is when you lose those bits of your soul. They break off until there’s nothing left. I am a monster, Y/N. Nothing I ever do can make up for it and save whatever shattered pieces are in there. But I owe it to my kids to be good and stay good.”

You handed the sheet back and he tucked it away, his wallet going in his pocket as he stared out at the trees across the path. 

“I understand if you would no longer like to see or speak to me again. Or if you want to slap me in the face. That’s also acceptable,” he said.

“What year was all of this?” you asked.

“They died in ‘92. Then I ran away to Kansas, worked as a farmhand for a while,” he said. He rubbed his palm and stared down at his lap. “Just...be careful at night and try to stop walking down alleys for me, okay?”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I���m never going to see you again after you get up from this bench.”

You stood up and he let out a sigh. You took a step to your left and sat down closer to him, turning your head as Dean looked so horribly confused at you. You couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t an option. But while you knew you couldn’t walk because of the mission Butcher had you on, you didn’t want to. There was so much self-hate inside of Dean he hid well and part of you ached that he considered himself sub-human.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Dean. What happened to your family was horrible but they were accidents. Your daughter, your son. Your wife, did she even let it sink in for you before she did that? If I was married to someone and they suddenly asked for a divorce my gut reaction would probably be no too. I’m not saying you didn’t play a part but those were her actions that trickled down and affected the rest of you. Letting yourself become corrupted means you’re human. We all make fucking mistakes. Yours are a little big, I admit that. But you try to make up for it. All you can do after the fact is try and you’re doing that. There’s a soul in there Dean. If there wasn’t this wouldn’t be eating you alive. Cut yourself a break. I gotta process everything you said but I’m not walking away. Promise you will never lie to me again and I can promise you that I won’t judge you, no matter what you’ve done.”

“I’ve been around 95 years and I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “That’s a good thing. I will never lie to you again. I swear. I’m sorry. I was...frightened of telling you who I was deep down. I like you. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time and I don’t want it to go away just yet.”

“It’s okay that you were scared. Maybe on our third date we can have a less intense conversation. We can talk about how you’re older than sliced bread,” you teased. 

“You youngin’s don’t know how good you got it,” he chuckled. You took his hand into your lap and he smiled. “Not a monster to you?”

“No. Just be a good guy and I’ll be happy,” you said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, Dean looking you up and down.

“I wish I knew you when I was a dumb kid that let them shove that stuff in me. I never would have said yes if I had a girl back home.”

“Well, from now on, maybe just ask if you think I’d be proud of what you were doing. If the anwer’s no, maybe don’t do it,” you said.

“I’m gonna keep that one,” he said. “Also did you subtly drop that I’m getting another date despite all of that?”

“You told me the truth, even though it was hard. That’s why I like you too,” you said. “Plus you’re really old so you must have like, sex down to perfection by this point.”

“Gonna blow your fucking mind,” he teased. “Eventually. I know things are different nowadays but…you’re special. You’re not a hookup.”

“When you’re ready, you let me know and we’ll go from there, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a hug, Dean hesitant at first but he quickly relaxed into it. “You alright?”

“Been a long time since I had a hug is all.”

“You need one, just come to me,” you said. You sat back and he smiled. “So. Let’s go do something fun. You look like you could use it.”

“Night,” murmured Dean as he kissed you at your doorstep that evening.

“Night,” you said, not moving away from him just yet. His ears perked up and he forced himself away. “Trouble?”

“Yeah. Nothing major. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Bye Dean,” you said, watching him take off running far faster than any human man could. You smiled as you locked up, a loud thud coming from your kitchen. You unlocked the door and looked around. “Hello?”

“For such a nice house you have an incredibly small kitchen,” said Butcher as he walked out with the bottle of your nicest bourbon.

“Oh come on, that was a housewarming present,” you said.

“I swipe you some more,” he said, taking a long swig. “How’s it going?”

“Good. We got close today but Butcher you seriously can not come back here again. Dean was this close to coming inside tonight.”

“Dean. I thought he was Solider Boy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“You want to wind up like his last broad did? You give him the puppy dog eyes and then we make a move,” he said.

“I’m starting to think we might get further with sugar over spice. Billy he wants to make up for his past. If he gets into The Seven he could be a serious asset.”

“Are you going soft on me?” he asked, an edge in his voice. 

“Let me work him the way I know best. Trust me,” you said.

“Don’t forget what this is for. You call when you’re ready,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”

He left out the back and you sighed, running your hands over your face. Sure, Dean had done some bad things in the past but who hadn’t? He wasn’t playing you, he had no reason to. The part of you that wanted revenge was still there but he didn’t cause your brother to die, not really. He was simply a prime target at the moment.

You swallowed and went to the kitchen, taking the bottle of alcohol to the family room. You sat on the couch and took a swig, letting it burn your throat.

You didn’t want him to get hurt. You liked him. A lot. Maybe you could convince him to go away, be someplace safer. Your head turned when you got a text, the alert saying it was from Dean and him asking you if you wanted to get out of the city and go hiking tomorrow.

Maybe that’d be a good time to tell him the truth. He was bound to find out eventually and if he got mad, at least you’d be the only one in danger. Billy’s voice was at the back of your head but you ignored it. He’d been angry for too long, couldn’t see the good in people anymore. Dean wasn’t what you thought he was at first. He was good deep down.

You’d tell Solider Boy the truth tomorrow and hoped you lived to see the next day.

______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[sweetsubharry]

Do you know any Larry fics with relationship during or post the band

yes I do! ^-^ (As a forewarning, under the read more is 47 fics! So this is quite a long post! I just couldn’t narrow them down!) I’ve split them into three sections; x factor, during the band, and ‘hiatus’ :) 

In case no one gets to the bottom of the page I’ll say it again here too! Please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!!

X factor era 

I'd give up forever to touch you by blankiehxrry

just your typical xfactor fic with a bit of a twist

Just Ask Me To by TellMeThisIsNotLove

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers.

“Of course I’m telling the truth!” Harry doesn’t even care that he sounds exasperated.

“Oh my god.” Louis grabs the wall behind him as if looking for support. His body slides down against it until he’s sitting crouched on the floor.

He mumbles something but Harry can’t really figure out what it is. He crouches down, and looks desperately at the breaking boy in front of him.

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers. “You were not supposed to–”

“I was not supposed to do what? Tell me please,” Harry urges, taking Louis’ hands gently in his.

Or the X Factor era canon fic where they learn how to be a couple and that not everyone is going to be on their sides especially those with plain white t-shirts and saccharine smiles.

horizontal like a quarter to three by orphan_account

The worst part is that Louis just wants to get really rough with him. He's wanted it right from the start, and it doesn't make sense, because Harry's always been so gentle and understanding and sweet, and yet all Louis wants to do is fuck him up.

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Could you love me anyway by SadaVeniren

Dear Mistress Lorin: I’ve been reading your blog for a couple weeks now and was hoping you’d give me some advice for something that happened with me and my boyfriend. I’m really worried that I hurt him.

aka Harry and Louis begin playing ping pong during the X-Factor Tour. It quickly gets out of hand.

no we're not friends, nor have we ever been by blankiehxrry

louis and harry get frisky in the xfactor house

give you my fever by beautlouis

And he’s wanted it even more since he met Louis, it's driven him insane, he spends 90% of his life turned on because of Louis and he’s had no relief at all. He’ll wake up at night too hot and itchy, with Louis warm and sweet smelling next to him, and unable to do anything but wank unsuccessfully, with no release. “I can try,” Louis says, close enough that Harry’s eyes cross a little trying to look at him. “I want to, I’ve never been with anybody, like, I’ve snogged people, lots of people, but I’ve never—touched anyone.” He clears his throat. “I’d touch you, Hazza.”

Harry’s breathing picks up. “Yes.” He doesn’t think there was a question but he’s a little overwhelmed. “Yes,” he repeats, dizzy.

*x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

During the band

Sweet Baby by jishler

“Haz,” he said, “do you like being held down?”

Drawing a shaky breath, Harry finally looked Louis in the eyes. “I think so.”

Nothing You Can Do (But You Can Learn How To Be You In Time) by Teumessian

A Canon Compliant Semi-AU. Louis braids Harry’s hair. There are good times, bad times, fancy houses, supportive bandmates, secret boyfriends, small rebellions, bigger revolutions, some nail varnish, ribbons, cute clothing, and a Pinterest.

make me feel like i am breathing by crybaby

His eyes are already looking a hint distant as Louis gets comfortable on his knees, running a hand up the hairless expanse of Harry's milky thigh. Harry always starts dipping at the sight of his vibrator, bubblegum plastic with flecks of glitter in the pink. His cheeks pink to match the colour and his eyes go wide, his lips chewing.

(Prompt: how about louis fucking harry with a vibrator backstage before they go on?)

take me into your loving arms by blankiehxrry

twas the night of the brit awards

Just Give Me a Reason by Mr_Stylinson

"Why do people hate me?" is a question Harry is more than desperate to figure out the answer to after reading through negative comments on Twitter about his "What Makes You Beautiful" performance on Red or Black. But this new addiction could potentially decide his fate as a part of One Direction unless the other boys are able to convince their youngest member that his value is defined by far more than a bunch of dumb online comments.

The Pedal's Down, My Eyes are Closed by dancingontheceiling

Louis and Harry bang it out in the dressing room after performing "18" and "No Control" for the first time at OTRA Brussels.

i'm missing half of me when we're apart by orphan_account

Louis can just picture what he looks like right now. Curled up on the big bed in their LA house, wrapped up in one of Louis' sweatshirts, crying his heart out, face red and blotchy, eyes sore, fingers twisted in the blankets as his chest tightens up.

Fallingforyou by gayilystrong

Harry's sick on Tour, which leads to naps in Louis' bunk. Louis of course needs to take care of his baby.

vocal rest remedy by tippytoetomlinstyles

Harry is sick and sad and on vocal rest. Louis helps him get over his sadness by cheering him up the only way he knows how.

Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

It Feels Right When The Pink Matches His Lips by orphan_account

He adores pink, and pretty colors. He likes deciding what color his nails should be and whether or not this lipstick matches his shirt. He likes rummaging through Jade or Leigh's closets to try on the pretty clothes they have or their make-up drawer out of curiosity.

But the media doesn't. They call him awful names, spewing out article after article. So, he stops. He stops wearing pink, stops painting his nails, stops experimenting with make-up, and Louis notices.

[Featuring Harry as the unconfident member of the biggest boy band in the world and Louis as his very supportive boyfriend.]

Every Move You Make by sunniskies

After the debacle at the Brits, Louis decides he needs to keep better track of Harry.

Obligatory Sickfic by WhoopsImASinner

Harry gets off stage after the Live Lounge and is more than a little upset about how sick he is. Louis takes it upon himself to get his boy home and cheer him up.

Do Not Disturb (kiss me beneath the milky twilight) by SadaVeniren

“I was talking with Nick a couple months back and he was saying how our sex life seemed boring and we’d need to keep doing new and interesting things to keep it exciting or else we’d become boring and heterosexual and I defended us of course but then work picked up and we started living off of studio handjobs and missionary position sex in the dark and so I panicked. I googled BDSM and after looking into it I really want to try some of it because I think we’d enjoy it but we just don’t have the time.”

aka Harry doesn't want to become a boring old married couple a year into their relationship and tries to spice up their sex life.

But I'm Only Human (And I Bleed When I Fall Down). by brooklynbis

Harry wasn't an idiot. He wasn't gullible enough to believe that everyone was going to love him, hell, he was expecting for people to not like him. But a few tweets from Twitter really can be enough to trigger a whole bucket load of emotions.

_______________________

AKA Harry has a lot of emotions, management (particularly Simon) are pieces of shit, Louis is an amazing boyfriend as per, and Liam, Niall and Zayn are all very protective over the youngest member of the group.

You Like Playing Games by orphan_account

Louis knows Harry likes to flirt and tease. Louis knows that he doesn’t particularly like when Harry flirts and teases. Louis knows that Harry knows that Louis doesn’t particularly like it.

But what Louis doesn’t quite know is why, despite that, Harry’s decided to grind against 5 Seconds of Summer’s Luke Hemmings during “Teenage Dirtbag” in the last show in Melbourne.

Basically pure smut.

Make Tea, Not War by adventuring, howdoyouwhisk (popsongdelusional)

"Is he the messiest?"

"Yes."

"Does he do the washing up?"

"Never."

"Does he make his bed?"

"Never."

"Hopeless, hopeless flatmate. Would you rather be with one of these guys?"

"Nope!"

Or: Louis attempts to become a better flatmate, much to Harry's dismay.

Are We In The Clear Yet? by highlinson

The thing is, it’s not anything new. He’s gone through it a dozen times, at least. It shouldn’t scare him, still. Should never have scared him in the first place. Yet he’s trembling as he makes his way through the crowds.

You and Me by louisgrindsonharry

Harry and Louis have dabbled in the idea of BDSM but Harry finally wants to take it farther and Louis has to figure out how to take care of his boy.

We'll All Float On Alright by dancingbean

Harry has a really bad day. Louis is there with cuddles and kisses and scented candles.

You live in my heart by styleztomlinson

As soon as they’re done with their set, Louis only has one thing on his mind and that’s to get out of there as soon as possible.

or,

Harry is sick during their performance at the iHeartRadio festival. Afterwards, Louis takes cares of his baby, and dotes on his husband.

Cause If You Let Me, Here's What I'll Do by stylesforstiles

Five times where Harry is Louis' baby

When the Points Add Up by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis is physically incapable of following the rules, and Management is smart enough to know his weak spot: Harry. One stunt too many leaves Harry exiled to a room by himself all night and Louis rallies the others to devise a plan to get Harry his cuddles tonight no matter what Management says.

There's a Hole In My Soul, Can You Fill It? by stylesforstiles

Sometimes Harry is so tired. Louis always wants to fix it.

Susceptible to Getting Hurt by page394

"I've always wanted to be one of those people who didn't really care that much about what people thought about them... But I just don't think I am." - Harry

Just What The Doctor Ordered by everyroad

A short little thing about a sick Harry who really just needs his Louis.

Baby, I'm perfect for you by nancy01

Harry broke down in tears. Like loud, ugly, fat tears that made his shoulders shake and his hands come up to hide his face. He made Louis worry, he made Louis scared, he made Louis angry and worst of all now Louis' going to be disappointed in him and think he's being childish and pathetic. well done, have you made yourself proud?. now even louis isn't going to like you, you've pushed him away to.

Louis sighed."Sweetheart, come here." He called with wide opening arms.

Harry doesn't think he's ever moved faster in his entire life. Louis arms wrap around Harry's shoulders, pulling him in close, as Harry buries his neck into Louis' shoulder to try and source maximum comfort.

Or

Paps become to much for Haz, cue protective boyfriend Louis

Never Let You Fall by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry slips on stage and gets a minor concussion, and Louis insists that he spend the night in the hospital just in case. He then turns into a protective baby lion because that is his Harry and he'll be damned if anything happens to him on Louis' watch. Harry rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't really mind.

Breathe by dontlietomehoney

Harry has an asthma attack and Louis is scared to death. What follows after though, scares both boys, pulling them apart and bringing them together.

Your Reason To Be by KellanCougar

The X Factor was only the start. With their management willing to do anything for headlines, including manipulation that could threaten Harry's very life, Louis fears he will lose everything he loves and be powerless to stop it.

And We Linger On by stylesforstiles

Harry is pouting. Louis takes care of him

don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

written for this prompt:

"louis knows Harry gets handsy when he's drunk, but that doesn't stop him from showing harry who he belongs to."

or the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

that boy's got my heart in a silver cage by orphan_account

The whole thing is addictive somehow, and not just because of the way that it makes Louis feel, like Harry is his and he'll do anything he says—but because of the way Harry reacts to it, even in public, twisting in his seat and tripping over his words and once even briefly hiding his face in Louis's shoulder because he's so flustered, causing the girls in the audience to squeal and shout.

if we got nothing, we got us by tumsa

Harry is Louis' baby and he's sick as well.

Okay by JustAnotherShadow503

Harry is frustrated.

It's been almost two years since he and Louis got back together, and nothing has changed. Well, they have changed, and their situation has gotten a lot better, but their sex life? Vanilla. Completely and utterly vanilla.

Harry really thought that after Louis' dirty talk when they got back together, they would get into some kinkier shit, but nope. Louis still makes love to him and calls him sweet names, and that's nice, Harry absolutely loves it, but sometimes, he gets this itch that making love can't scratch.

Or, the one where Harry and Louis try to start a dom/sub BDSM relationship, and nothing goes according to plan.

Gentle Sin by userkant

Harry gasps. He gasps at what must be a sudden pain, or maybe at his sudden orgasm that has him tightening around Louis, forcing Louis’ own release, or maybe all of these things are connected.

Or, Louis discovers a few things about Harry.

A fic about kink exploration and pleasure-pain featuring baby boyfriends, tenderness, and gentle dom Louis.

I'll Look After You by stylesforstiles, TrynaGetStylinson

Harry's had enough with the mobs. He just needs someone to tell him it will all be ok.

Let Me Be Good For You by onlyhuman

His distress over the bun is nothing compared to the thrill Louis feels shoot up his spine at the outfit Harry’s donned. He’s changed into leather jeans that cling to his legs, hugging his thighs snugly. On top of it, a floaty, black sheer shirt is contouring his frame, doing absolutely nothing to hide his puffy nipples or the endless array of tattoos scattered across his torso. It’s Louis’ favourite outfit in the entire world.

Or, Niall's only birthday wish is to go clubbing with his boys in Vegas. Harry ruins it all by wearing that god forsaken black sheer shirt.

leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn't want to do, it would be different, but Louis's never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn't handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

Beneath the Suits by someonethatsfunny

Harry and Louis had a bit of a ritual when it came to award shows. And that ritual didn’t lend itself very well to after parties or being around other people in general. Nope. They were much better off alone where they could have their own private celebration. So what happened after the AMAs then when Niall and Liam head to an after party and Harry and Louis were nowhere to be found? Well, obviously we can't be sure, but it was probably something along the lines of ....

During ‘hiatus’

Mon Petit by coffinofachimera

Harry wears the 'Mon Petit' sweater while Louis records them on their private plane.

Things Are Pretty Good From Here by ItIsWhatItIs9194, Teddy1008

Harry's just released "Sign of the Times," and of course, Louis can't help but want to let his sub know how proud he is of him with more than just words.

They basically fuck.

head head heart by turnyourankle

After Dunkirk has wrapped filming, Harry struggles with his inability to reach subspace. He tries taking the matter in his own hands before Louis intervenes with a plan of his own.

Model's Own by Domeaspreadsheet

Harry hadn’t wanted him to see the Another Man shoot until it dropped, wanted it to be a surprise. He’d already come home with his hair chopped off, how many surprises could there be?

Louis pulls up Harry’s instagram, the notifications for three posts coming through right after the other. Harry was off at a spin class, and here Louis sits, staring at Harry’s face, the three covers forming a neat line, all so different, yet all so very Harry. He zooms in on one, knows he must be seeing it wrong, but no. Harry is wearing a collar. On the cover of a fucking magazine.

Beside Me Like a Silhouette by Domeaspreadsheet

“Quite the ruckus from someone who thought they were coming home to a sleeping household,” Louis says on an exhale of smoke.

Oh. Harry has been set up.

“Well, maybe if I hadn’t thought you were bailing on me I would have tried harder to be quiet,” he huffs.

Louis levels his gaze at him. “Is that so?”

Harry nods.

“Very well. You have fifteen minutes to shower and put in the plug I left on the bathroom counter. No need to dress afterward. When you come back, kneel next to the chair on my right. You may go.”

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo

It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.

i'll be your sunflower by scagnetism

“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis. “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car. “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time. ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.

Take Me for a Spin by QuickedWeen

The night of the Pride of Britain Awards 2016. Louis goes to the ceremony and out to the club afterwards, but what is Harry up to?

Baby, Honey by lovelarry10

Harry's been talking about sex and babies on stage too much for Louis' liking, so he decides to give him what he wants...

Or the one with the aftermath of Harry's Detroit concert...

Half Fragment by coffinofachimera

Louis and Harry share a night together through the phone.

As always I hope you enjoy these! Make sure you read the tags and stay safe lovelies ❤

[xfandomwritingsx]

Being Human - James Vega/F!Shepard

Description: James and Shepard finally stop dancing around each other. AKA; a rewrite of the Citadel DLC.

Warnings/Labels: None really. Some super minor sexual stuff.

Approx. Word Count: 4,500

A/N: Look... this is at best a rough draft that I typed up and didn’t edit, but I will forever be bitter about how they made the Citadel play out with these two. And while I know it won't happen, I really wish they'd fix it in the remaster. I mean if you're going to remaster the games, that sounds like a damn good time to fix anything inappropriate and rape-y right?! I would love to do a whole slow burn of Shepard and Vega spanning from Earth to the end of the game, but if you know me, you know I'm SLOW AS MOLASSES to update and I'm not lying when I say it would take me years to finish. So instead... have a poorly written snippet. I tried to keep it as much in “canon character” as I could. 

Shepard stands on the balcony of her new apartment, mind gently jogging around the events of the last few days which bleeds into the events of the last few years. Resting her arms on the metal railing, she drops her head and sighs, trying to pull herself from the black hole that is her memory anymore. She wants to let it all go, just for a night.

“Hey, Lola,” James calls, pulling her back to the present. She looks up briefly wondering how long he’d been there before she sees the door closing behind him. How had she not heard it? “Nice place,” he comments, looking around the open layout. “Might not look so nice after that party you were talking about.” He walks further in, headed for the stairs to join her on the balcony.

“You wouldn’t trash my new apartment, would you James?” she jokes lightly, pushing herself upright off the railing.

“Me?” He spins a little, keeping his eyes on her as he continued to travel backwards to the stairs. “Nooo. Never,” he draws it out, the sarcasm a little thick. Shepard rolls her eyes at him, but he sees the little smile at the corner of her lips too.

James has always had that effect on her. No matter what dumb thing came out of his mouth, he managed to make her smile. It was something she’d craved over the last few months more than ever. While everyone else gave her pep talks that only managed to remind her how much the galaxy rested on her shoulders, James was more likely to tell her that her pants hugged her curves just right. He let her forget about being Commander Shepard even if for just a few moments.

He whistles as he approaches her side, looking out over the balcony with her.

“Nice view. But this place?” He shakes his head just slightly. “It’s just so... not what I’m used to.” He gives a small shrug, still looking out over the scenery and the lights outside the large windows.

“Which is?” Shepard prods. They don't talk about their pasts very often. Everyone already knew hers and James was never extremely open about his own. He puts his hands on the railing and leans into his arms a little.

“I grew up on the beach in the Pacific,” he shares. “So, you know; water, sand, real air.” She thinks there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“You miss it?” He doesn’t look at her this time and instead she watches as he loosens his grip on the rail a little bit and sighs.

“Yeah. And the people.” She catches the undertone, the longing that implies he’s thinking of someone specific when he says it.

“So, what’s her name?” she asks. She means it to be teasing, but there’s an unexpected pang in her gut that feels all too much like jealousy for her liking and it ruins the lighthearted joke in her voice. She shifts her weight a little and slips a hand into the pocket of her pants.

“No! No.” he clarifies through a bark of a laugh, easing her tension a little. “I stopped... fraternizing when I joined the military. The two don’t seem to go well together.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from being a shameless flirt.” It had taken a short amount of time after they’d first met on Earth for him to relax around her and once he did, the comments, the winks, the innuendos and double entendres never ceased. The only thing he never seemed to do, was be physical with his flirting. He’d never so much as run a hand down her arm or let his hands linger when they sparred. Though Shepard had found herself wishing he would recently.

“Yeah, well... that’s just my way. I don’t mean anything by it.” There’s something in the way that he still won’t look at her that makes her think maybe that’s not all true.

“Too bad.” She drops her tone a little and takes a step towards him. “I wasn’t complaining.” He cracks a smile and lets out another short laugh.

“Who’s the shameless flirt now?” He gives her a single glance and then looks back down to his hands on the railing.

“So you can give it, but you can’t take it?” The flirting had never been completely one sided, but it certainly came heavier from him and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get a little flustered when she returned it.

“No, it’s just...” He releases the railing and pushes away, adding a little distance between the two. “You’re my commander, por dios. I can never tell if you’re yanking my chain.” He looks at her, really looks at her this time and the mood shifts. The air gets thicker, heavier and it feels like an opportunity, one she doesn’t want to slip away again.

“And what if I’m not?” she asks, voice dipping down again. “Not just yanking your chain?” James swallows thickly and there’s a mumble of a noise from his lips, but he doesn’t give a response. Instead, she’s pleased to watch as his eyes travel down from her eyes to her lips, down her neck and through the valley between her breasts that he can see all too well in her black tank top. “Are you going to tell me you’ve never thought about it?”

“Uhhh… I mean you’re one hell of a woman and I’m still just flesh and blood, if you know what I mean.” She can see a bit of redness creep up his neck and Shepard wonders if the implication is just that his body reacts to her or if he’s actually done something about it when his body reacts.

“So am I, James. And you are one hell of a man yourself.” She slips in front of him, putting herself between himself and the railing, all but begging him to pin her there. He makes no move to do so however. Instead, his eyes drop down to their feet and Shepard feels like she’s sinking. “But you’re not interested.” She leans back into the railing, wanting to retreat. James snaps his eyes back to hers and his mouth flops for a few moments as if he’s going to say something, but after a minute of silence, Shepard gives up. She slinks away off to the side and as far away as she can get without feeling too awkward. “Well, now that you’ve shot me down, was there anything else you came here to talk about?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” he stutters, shaking his head. She feels a little bad to have put him on the spot, but she’s just as embarrassed as he is. “I wanted to show you something.”

He turns away from her and pulls his shirt over his head. It takes Shepard longer than she should admit to notice he’s not just showing off the well-toned muscles in his back and shoulders, but trying to show her the new and finished N7 tattoo. He looks at her over his shoulder.

“What do you think?”

“Looks good,” she says honestly. “You’ve earned it.” She sees him smile a little at her approval. She crosses her arms over her chest and tries to lighten her tone. “Though I think it’s a little mean to flaunt yourself to the woman you just turned down.” He chuckles, taking her teasing easily.

“Here I was thought I was being nice giving you at least a little something,” he jokes back before turning to face her, shirt still in his hand. “Thought you liked the show.” She rolls her eyes, but even after him turning her down, the flirting still makes her feel better. “Anyways... Just wanted to show you that bad boy.” He slips his shirt back over his head and she resists the small urge to tell him to keep it off. “I gotta get back to the Normandy,” he says. “Esteban wants my help working on the shuttle.” Shepard shuffles her feet for a moment and then sticks out her hand towards him.

“Thanks for coming by, James.” She uses a formal voice, hoping the gesture and tone will clearly communicate a no hard feelings vibe. He reaches out and takes her hand. The handshake lasts for less than a second before he brings her hand up into a fist grab and pulls her closer. He locks her eyes with his and that tension rises again.

“Lola,” he whispers. “I’m not not interested.” She loosens her grip in his, going from firm comradery to something softer. “It’s just that… you’re Commander Shepard, you know?” He watches her shoulders fall and he knows instantly it was the wrong thing to say.

“I get it, James,” she says, attempting to hide her dejection. It’s the title, the legend that again stands in her way from being a regular woman. So much for him being the person who makes her forget it all. “Don’t worry about it.” She withdraws from him quickly and a little more coldly than she intended. He again opens his mouth, but doesn’t form words. “I’ll see you later,” she dismisses him and he nods. He moves to leave before trying once more to end on a friendly note.

“This is gonna be a perfect place for a fiesta.”

~~~

For a guy who all but told her no, James is sure as shit staring at her an awful lot like he wants to rip her clothes off.

“Is constant staring customary to the human mating ritual?” Garrus teases him as he pours drinks on the other side of the bar. “Because if so, you’re doing a damn good job, Jimmy.” James grimaces and throws a peanut shell at the Turian.

“Shut it, Scars.”

“He’s still convinced regs are a problem to worry about,” Steve chimes in, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Regs? Really?” Garrus asks. “You realize breaking regulations is pretty much Shepard’s specialty, right?” He slides the drink towards James who just shakes his head at it and passes it to Steve. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re quite possibly facing the end of the galaxy here. Who’s kissing who isn’t something anyone’s worried about, even the brass.” James mumbles something and picks at the label on his nearly full beer bottle.

He can barely see Shepard at the kitchen entrance from his spot at the end of the bar and every time she moves, his neck cranes to follow her. He’d either purposely or accidentally kept her in view all night and has spent the better part of it kicking himself for not just throwing her against a wall earlier that day.

She catches his eye and he instantly looks away, back to his bottle. She chose to wear a dress of all things tonight. A god damned dress. A little black number that fit her better than it had any right to. The woman was trying to kill him.

“Boys,” he hears her greet them casually, having approached them at the bar while he was attempting to ignore her. “How are things going?” James doesn’t hear their response. He’s too preoccupied trying to keep his eyes off of her chest as she leans her hip against the edge of the bar. “You seem quiet, Vega,” she comments.

“Just enjoying the party.” He shrugs and takes a drink of his beer, thinking about how he could kill Garrus and Steve for the look they shoot each other.

“Steve,” Garrus interrupts. “Let me show you that data pad I mentioned earlier.” Garrus had, of course, mentioned no such data pad in their prior conversations, but Steve agreed eagerly and James really thought about strangling at least one of them when they left him alone with Shepard.

“We good?” she asks him so casually that he almost feels bad.

“Yeah, why?” He takes another drink of his beer and it quickly turns into a large gulp.

“You seem to be avoiding me,” She squints and forces a smile. “And also staring, which is odd. Just want to make sure we’re good.” She takes a sip of her own drink and shifts her eyes to the Turian alcohol bottle, investigating it curiously.

James chews on his tongue for a moment. She wants them to be good. Good means normal. Normal would mean telling her those squats she’s been doing have done wonders for her ass and that was dangerous tonight.

“It help if I tell you that you look damn fine in that dress?” He never was too good at avoiding danger.

“Maybe,” She shrugs and leans forward towards him just a little. “Probably help a little more if you called me Lola.” Damn if her voice didn’t sound husky and smooth. Despite his better judgement, he followed her lead and leaned in as well, lowering his voice if nothing more than to make sure eavesdroppers wouldn’t hear.

“Well, that dress is definitely giving me ideas… Lola.” A smile breaks on her lips and he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he sees her shiver just the slightest. He takes another long drink, but this time doesn’t take his eyes off her.

“You going to keep a girl guessing or are you going to share with the class?” She takes a step forward, getting close enough for him to notices she actually put on a light layer of perfume too. He chuckles, but curses internally.

“You’re making it real hard to remember why this is a bad idea,” he warns.

He starts listing the reasons in his head. Fraternization regs. She’s his commander. She’s fucking Commander Shepard and he’s just a nobody lieutenant who makes a shitty leader. She’s probably looking for some kind of easy fling. Distracting her like that would be selfish. It’d look bad. The rest of the crew might start to question her judgement. The list goes on and on.

“I never pegged you to be a guy who runs hot and cold,” she says, breaking his train of thought. “And yet today you’ve given more mixed signals than a broken comm transmission.”

“Sorry, Lola.” And he is, honestly. He’s a tangled-up mess of thoughts and emotions and even the little bit of alcohol he’s consumed tonight is making him think with his dick first.

“Want me to put on a wig? Change my name? Maybe lay on an accent?” He can tell by the wiggle in her eyebrows as much as the suggestion itself that she’s had a little too much to drink, but it twists his stomach in a bad way all the same. “I don’t have to be Commander Shepard for a night.” And now he feels guilty, so much so that his neck and his face turn red and he looks down again, embarrassed at himself. She gives a quick pat to his forearm. “Come find me if you change your mind.”

She grabs her drink and leaves to mingle with her other guests, leaving him alone to feel like an asshole. He could never find the right thing to say around Shepard. Not when it came to this. He wanted her and lately he had to admit it was more than just a sexual attraction. He wanted more than that, but the idea of being selfish enough to pursue Commander Shepard was intimidating. Maybe, he admits, he needs to stop separating her and realize that Commander Shepard and his Lola are one and the same. Maybe then he can stop being a dick.

“Fucking pendejo,” he whispers to himself before swiping up that Turian bottle.

~~~

She can feel the headache before she even opens her eyes. Had she really drank much last night? No, she’s sure she didn’t. She even remembers everything, including climbing into her bed after barely having the energy to change clothes.

She throws on her N7 sweatshirt and slowly treks her way to the kitchen, making sure to note all the remnants of the party, including some of her friends scattered amongst the apartment. It makes her smile.

She smells bacon as she rounds the corner and sees James at the stove already in the full throws of making breakfast. He beams a smile at her when he sees her in the doorway and flips the pan a little.

“Lola!” he greets. “Eggs?”

“You’re awful cheery,” she comments dryly, and a little bitterly, as she steps further into the kitchen. She rounds the island the stove is on and snags a piece of bacon from the plate there.

“Been a while since you knocked that many back?” he teases, watching the way her eyes squint uncomfortably. “Breakfast will help.” He shovels some of the fresh eggs onto a plate and passes it her way. She takes them gratefully and reaches for the salt. James’ hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her reach. “You really gonna do me like that?” he scolds playfully. “Add salt before you even try them? That’s my abuela’s recipe. It doesn't need more salt.” She cracks a smile, but doesn’t move her hand away just yet, the warmth of his hand feeling too comforting to pull away from. There’s a gentle swipe of his thumb over her pulse before he lets go on his own. He empties the rest of the eggs on a communal plate before clearing his throat. “Hey, let me know when you have some time,” he says. It sounds surprisingly awkward. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

~~~

Never being one to put things off, Shepard returned to her room as soon as she’d finished eating and made the rounds to make sure everyone was awake or, at the very least, breathing.

I’m in my room. Got some time. She sends the message before even making it through the door. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for him to respond.

Be up in a minute.

She makes herself busy with her omni-tool while she waits. She feels a bit like a fool, practically throwing herself at him a second time only to be left alone again last night. She wouldn’t blame him if he came to talk to her about how uncomfortable she had made him.

She’s left the door open for him, but he still gives it a gentle knock to get her attention when he arrives.

“Nice room,” he comments, sticking his head over the threshold and looking around. “Bit different than the Normandy. Less fish.” He cracks a smile at her and the simple gesture puts her at ease a little. He can’t be pissed at her if he’s still making jokes, right?

“You’re just jealous you don’t have fish in your room.” She isn’t about to admit that she actually misses the blue glow and gentle whir of the filter when she falls asleep. Not right now at least.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should trade rooms sometime.”

Or maybe we could share mine. Shepard physically bites her tongue to stop herself from saying it aloud. Still unsure of exactly where they stand and just how awkward she made things for him, it is not the time to let the flirtations rise up that quickly.

He takes her brief silence to enter the room and close the door behind him. That makes her a little nervous, but not nearly as much as when he says, “So... we should talk about last night.”

“I owe you an apology, Lieutenant,” she says instantly, nearly cutting him off. The way she snaps back to professionalism with a straight back, pushed down shoulders, and a commanding tone makes him pause for a moment, his eyes widening just a fraction. “I was inappropriate with you and should not have taken advantage of my rank.” It takes an extra moment for her apology to sink in and his brow furrows as he sorts it through his brain.

“What? No!” he huffs and takes two large, hurried steps her way. She must not have held her surprise well enough because he suddenly stops again. “Lola,” he sighs. “I didn’t come here to... register a complaint.” His face crunches up as though he doesn’t like the way the word taste. “I came to apologize to you,” he says firmly. “And hopefully not fuck up my words this time.”

The intensity in his eyes and the way he’s not shying away from her makes Shepard feel like she’s a young girl again. Any and all experience she has with men and relationships seems to just melt away and suddenly she’s got butterflies and a blush. There’s a nervous heat in her stomach that makes it hard to regain her composure.

“Okay,” she says slowly, not completely sure of where he’s going, but hoping to every God in the galaxy that he’s not turning her down again.

“I can’t hook up with you.” The butterflies die and the excited heat turns to an anger.

“I promise you don’t have to reject me again for me to understand.” She says it harshly, bitterly even. She barely manages to contain throwing her arms in the air when she turns away from him, moving towards the desk in the corner as if she has something better to do. She hears him mutter under his breath and while her Spanish is terrible, the inflection makes it sound like a string of curses.

“Shepard!” He follows her footsteps and when she spins to sit in the desk chair, his arm is extended as though he reached out for her just a moment too late. “I can’t hook up with you,” he emphasizes. “I can’t do just one night and that’s what would have happened last night. Would have been a drunken hook up that one of us or both of us would have brushed off in the morning. I don’t want that.” Her anger starts to dissolve and her spine loses some of its rigidness as she slinks back into her chair.

“What do you want then?” she asks, voice softer and quieter now. She’s afraid of the answer. He chews on his tongue and grinds his jaw and she wonders if maybe he’s afraid too.

“You,” he finally says.

“You sure about that?” She can’t help but scoff. “I am Commander Shepard, after all.”

“Yeah, you are.” His sigh this time seems more like a pained groan. Shepard watches carefully as he turns and sits himself on her unmade bed. “Which is why it feels completely selfish and impossible to ask you to commit to anything more, let alone to an insignificant lieutenant like me.”

“Commit?” She suddenly feels lighter again.

“When I go for something, I go all in,” he tells her. “That would include you...this...us.” He waves his hand out awkwardly and avoids her eyes as though he’s nervous. She bites down on her lip to swallow down the smile. She knows it’s not exactly fair to enjoy his nervousness, but at least it’s not just her. She slowly pushes herself up from her chair.

“You’re not insignificant,” she assures him.

“I’m not some hero of the galaxy,” he admits. He doesn’t say it with a self-conscious, but rather states it just as a simple fact. “I haven’t been with you since the beginning like most of these guys.”

“You know that’s one of the things I like about you James?” He looks up at her curiously. “Sure, you’ve heard the stories, but we didn't meet on the ship in the midst of wars. We met on Earth.” She rounds the desk slowly, walking closer to where he sits still using caution in case he backs out. “You didn’t just get to know Commander Shepard. You got to know Jane, to know me. You treat me like I’m human.”

“You are human, Lola.” He’s not looking away from her now and it gives her a little burst of confidence.

“Yeah. What was it you said? Just flesh and blood?” There’s a tease of a smirk on her lips as she comes to stand in front of him, legs stopping just short of slipping between the gap of his spread knees. He chuckles and the weight of everything starts to lift.

“You sure about this, Lola?” He reaches out and curls his hand around her hip. It's the first time he’s ever really touched her and it makes her heart skip just a little. She leans into his touch, pushing her hip into his palm and leans forward to put her hands on his shoulders. He feels solid beneath her and she can’t resist the need to squeeze just a little, to feel the muscles at the end of her fingers.

“I’ve thought about it in great detail.” He cocks an eyebrow at her and tugs her in-between his legs. He watches her with an unbridled desire in his eyes and for the first time in a long time, she feels real excitement. She traces one hand up the side of his neck so she can run his fingers along his jaw. “That party shouldn’t be the last bit of happiness we get to indulge in.”

He moves quickly; his hand on the back of her neck before she knew he moved it, using barely any strength to pull her down to him. She follows him easily, all too eager to kiss him heatedly. Months of suppressed desires pour out into each other and for the first few moments, they merely hold onto each other and soak in the relief of letting go. And then James’ hands start moving, pulling her closer and sliding over the curve of her ass. Shepard is compliant and carefully climbs into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips on her bed. He bites gently at her bottom lip before using a hand on her jaw to tilt her head back, allowing him to kiss down her neck.

Eyes closed and succumbing to the pleasure he’s offering, Shepard is unprepared for when James moves again. He rolls to the side and pushes her onto her back on the bed. She lets out an actual squeak of surprise and James chuckles, still pressing kisses to her skin. With her legs still around his waist, his hips grind almost unconsciously and she doesn’t hold back her moan.

James peels himself away from her slowly, leaving a cold trail of air where his body had been on top of her. She opens her eyes and glares at him, but the smirk still on his face and the bulge she manages to catch a glimpse of through his pants, make sure no fear of rejection rises back in her.

“And where are you going?” she asks, attempting and failing to use her Commander tone. She tries again after clearing her throat and pushing herself up on her elbows. “You’re not leaving this room for a while.” James laughs and flashes her a smile as he keeps walking to the door.

“Is that an order?” he teases, pressing the lock for the door and waiting until it flashes red before turning back to her.

“You bet your ass it is.” She smiles back at him. She could have locked the door from right here with her omni-tool and he knew it. He was just being a teasing bastard. “You’re not leaving her until I say so.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs again before coming back to her.

[fatoujallovv]

stay with me in heaven everyday

“it’s saturday, love, it’s ok if you fall back asleep.”

“no,” eliott grumbles, peering up at lucas, “have to stay awake to see your pretty face.”

“stop that,” lucas blushes.

“s’the truth. you have the prettiest face of all the faces. i’m gonna look at you forever.”

1.6k of ridiculously domestic fluff. that’s it that’s the fic

read on ao3 or under the cut!

it’s fragile in the morning hours.

the golden haze builds a comforting cocoon of time and space, surrounds the room with a blanket of warmth – the sounds soft, the shadows gentle.

it’s fragile but it’s kind, in the way a petal floats in the wind, translucent, delicate, beautiful.

eliott lies on his side, facing the window, lucas glued to his back. there’s a small arm tucked firmly around his waist, lucas’ warm, even breath tickles the back of his neck. it’s the type of morning that welcomes the glow of the rising sun right into his heart, warming him entirely. it’s a miracle, he thinks, that in all the worlds of darkness, he has found himself basking in endless light.

his mouth turns up lazily at the corners as he feels lucas’ hand release its hold. he begins to trace shapes across eliott’s back, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder blade as he spells out je t’aime across eliott’s spine.

“my miracle,” eliott hums as he flips over to face lucas.

“what’s that?”

“nothing, my love, just happy to be here. with you,” eliott smiles into a gentle kiss, “g’morning.”

“morning,” lucas replies, whisper soft, resuming his tracing – now along eliott’s cheekbone. he lets his eyes drift closed at the touch, lets lucas draw swirls and hearts all over his face, “how’d you sleep?”

“mmm... slept good,” eliott murmurs, an aggressive yawn bubbling to the surface.

“sure sounds like you did,” lucas chuckles.

eliott cracks open an eye to peer at his amused smile, “shut up, i’m just relaxed. you’re relaxing.”

“thanks,” lucas smiles, pulling him close, resting eliott’s very relaxed face on his chest, “you’re relaxing too, you dumb giraffe.”

eliott nestles his smile into lucas’ t-shirt, then, allowing lucas to gently play with his hair.

“feels like you’re doing live asmr with all this,” eliott giggles, “keep it up and i’m falling back asleep.”

“it’s saturday, love, it’s ok if you fall back asleep.”

“no,” eliott grumbles, peering up at lucas, “have to stay awake to see your pretty face.”

“stop that,” lucas blushes.

“s’the truth. you have the prettiest face of all the faces. i’m gonna look at you forever.”

“you aren’t so hard to look at yourself, you know.”

“no deflecting mister, time to face the facts. you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

“i’m not deflecting, mister. to me, it’s you. you’re the most beautiful person in my world.”

“and you say i’m the hopeless romantic in this relationship,” eliott mumbles as he tucks his chin back into lucas’ chest.

“idiot,” lucas mumbles back.

and then silence engulfs them again. but this is the thing about mornings like these, the silence is neither harsh nor cold. it welcomes the sounds of the birds, cars, lucas’ heartbeat. it fills eliott’s heart with i love you’s and his mind with peace. he smooths the wrinkles of lucas’ shirt under his palm and smiles.

you make the silence alright. you make my mind a safer place to live.

the i love you he whispers into lucas’ collar doesn’t quite have the same weight as all the romantic sentiments swirling in his head, but it will have to do for now. lucas responds with a kiss to his forehead and a gentle i love you too, and all he wants is to live in this perfect morning forever.

—

he doesn’t recall drifting back to sleep in lucas’ arms, but the next thing he remembers is the tickle of a finger tracing down his nose, lucas’ lips following behind to press light kisses down from between his eyebrows to the tip of his nose, finally landing on his lips. he rolls onto his back, pulling lucas on top of him with a wide grin.

“promise to wake me up like that for the rest of our lives?”

“hmmm, i think i might be able to make that promise,” lucas giggles, “on one condition.”

“and what is that?”

“you have to promise i’ll always fall asleep in your arms.”

“alright,” eliott beams, holding out his hand for a pinky promise, “deal.”

when lucas links their pinkies, eliott tugs on his hand to pull him into a kiss. they keep smiling and laughing and yawning into it, but it’s perfect all the same. when lucas eventually pulls back, eliott can’t help staring. the warm sunlight spills over him like a dream, his smile lights up his whole face.

“so beautiful,” eliott muses.

lucas ducks his head, bashful and utterly adorable in eliott’s expert opinion.

“thank you,” lucas whispers.

“thank you?”

“i just… you say so many sweet things like that. and you aren’t just saying them to flatter me, you say them to say them. because you want to say them. and i don’t know, i never thought i’d be loved like that. so yeah, thank you. i love you. kind of a lot actually.”

eliott can’t imagine a soul on earth that would be capable of thinking lucas is anything less than a miracle. he pulls him down into a hug, mumbles an i love you too into his hair, pressing a kiss to the blush at the top of his ear.

i love you, i love you, i love you

—

eliott’s stomach has never growled so loud in his life.

“i guess it’s time we get our lazy asses up and have some breakfast, huh?” lucas laughs.

“guess so,” eliott grumbles, stretching his arms high above his head before pulling the covers up close to his chin, entirely contradicting his sentiment of getting up.

“c’mon,” lucas coaxes, sitting up and excavating eliott’s hand from under the covers to drag him up too, “time to eat, love of my life, my dearest eliott, most beautiful and talented man in the world.”

“you’re just trying to butter me up,” eliott chuckles.

“is it working?”

“try a little harder.”

lucas rolls his eyes as eliott nestles even more into the covers.

“my spectacular boyfriend, best filmmaker in all of france, reason i carry on in this mundane life, might you please grace me with your presence for breakfast?”

“alright,” eliott feigns exasperation, “if i must, my king, keeper of my heart, love of a thousand lifetimes.”

“shut up,” lucas laughs, leaving for the kitchen.

eliott finds him gathering ingredients for blueberry muffins on the counter. eliott reaches for the fridge to find some bacon to add to the mix, but lucas swats his hand away.

“ah ah ah, lover boy, no ‘helping’ today. i want normal, edible muffins, ok?” he punctuates the last word with a sweet kiss to his cheek and a smile. eliott laughs brightly, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender to go connect his phone to the speaker instead. maybe one day he’ll get to try out blueberry-bacon muffins.

lucas puts on an apron to start mixing up the batter, and he looks absolutely adorable, so eliott decides to indulge the master baker in some more palatable background music (at least to lucas’ standards, eliott sees nothing wrong with a little edm in the morning).

he queues some things then hits play, the first notes of should i stay or should i go coming through the speaker. lucas has begun adding the blueberries to the batter, and turns his head when eliott comes up to rest his chin on his shoulder.

“thank you,” lucas beams, “some good music for once.”

eliott giggles at that, stepping back to lean against the fridge and watch lucas at work. he stirs the batter, lines and fills the muffin tin, all while singing along and dancing like an idiot. a beautiful, angelic idiot, but still.

he puts the muffins in the oven right as the song ends. he turns around as somebody to love begins to play. eliott smiles at the thrilled look on his face and holds out a hand for lucas.

“shall we dance?” he giggles as lucas takes his hand and spins under his arm.

“mmm, that sounds nice,” lucas hums, pulling eliott close and starting to sway to the beat. they rock back and forth for a while, leaning their foreheads together, until lucas can’t help but burst into song. the dance slowly morphs from slow and sweet to pure chaos. they’re just bouncing all around the apartment, screaming the lyrics to each other, one song after another. thank god they live alone now, because otherwise, mika might have come out and drop kicked them into next week. the downstairs neighbors still may have a few choice words for them, but he can’t bring himself to care.

they dance and dance and dance, running around until they barely have enough breath to sing along. and suddenly, a burning smell.

“SHIT” lucas yells, staring at the oven before whipping his head back to gape at eliott.

“did you set a timer?” eliott asks, barely concealing a giggle. lucas starts to shake his head, and they both burst out laughing. lucas rushes to the oven, doubled over, rips the muffins out as eliott cackles behind him. help! by the beatles starts blasting from the speaker, which certainly doesn’t help their laughing fit as they stare down at the charred muffins.

“i think we better go out for a nice brunch date,” lucas chuckles, pulling a muffin out and hitting the charred blob against the table, “i think these might not be edible.”

“i think we can make that happen,” eliott grins.

“c’mon, let's get you dressed, demaury,” lucas smiles, dropping the burnt muffin to grab eliott’s hand, “i’m taking you on a date.”

[georgescatcafe]

press play

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: dreamnap genres/tags: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, light angst, getting together word count: 3044 summary: “You have so many more freckles than I thought you do,” Sapnap says, leaning his chin on his hand. “I don’t even think I could count them all.”

Dream blinks, sitting up. “I—I mean, I don’t think I have that many.”

“Dude,” Sapnap says. He points a finger at his own face, drawing a circle around it. “It’s so many. Like... you could draw constellations there.”

A moment passes. Dream lets it go. Sapnap gives another laugh.

“Be honest,” he says, “how freckled are your shoulders?”

+ao3

;;

Day 1

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really. They had talked this through, probably way more than necessary⁠—Dream’s fault, but he couldn’t help it. His heart is a battery in his chest, shaking the earth beneath him and lighting the flame of anxiety in his stomach. Sapnap knows what he looks like, has seen him at his highs and his lows and even lower, but there’s something so much more... real in actually... meeting. In being able to touch, to hold onto and not let go. Dream’s fingers grip tighter around the wheel as he finally finds a place to park, and he finds himself sitting in the car long after he’s gotten there.

And then his phone alarm goes off, telling him he’s only got so much time before Sapnap’s flight lands, and Dream is finding himself running on autopilot, shutting off the car, getting out, walking to the entrance, finding a bench and collapsing on it. A flight from Colorado has come in, and the conveyor spins lazily, the flight small, the suitcase count minimal. Dream closes his eyes, leaning back in his seat and taking a breath. This is it. This is it.

His phone goes off again. It’s not an alarm. It’s a call.

Dream licks his lips. Answers. “Hello?”

“I’m on my way,” Sapnap says.

Dream can hear the sound of life in the background, chatter, beeping, rumbling, noise. He takes another breath. “I’m at baggage claim. You’ll see me.”

A pause. When Sapnap speaks, Dream can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you.”

The call ends. Dream immediately calls back. Sapnap answers. “Yeah?”

“Stay on the line,” Dream says. “I want⁠—just... stay.”

A breath. “Of course.”

The pressure building behind his eyes burns. Dream nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

A laugh. Again, “Of course.”

Dream brings a hand up to swipe at his eyes. It comes back dry. He feels a lump in his throat. He tries to swallow it down. The noises coming through the phone begin to blend with the environment around him. Dream watches the light of another conveyor flash, his eyes go to the sign. It’s for Sapnap’s flight.

“You good?”

Dream blinks, pulling the phone away from his ear before setting it back. “Yeah. I just... this is happening.”

“It’s happening.” Dream smiles; it’s wobbly. “I’m almost there.”

“Cool.” Dream bites his lips. “Cool.”

Dream’s eyes go to the entrance of the baggage claim. People, everyone in the world, it seems, everyone who isn’t Sapnap come through. He has his phone in a death grip. He hears Sapnap’s breath through the line. Hears the speakers, announcing the arrival of a new flight. Dream’s heart is in his stomach.

He glances back at the conveyor’s sign. HOU blinks at him in bright letters. He stands. He looks to the entrance and locks eyes with⁠—

“Dream!” The shriek pierces his ears but it might be the best sound he’s ever heard, that or the laughter that encapsulates him as arms circle around his waist, a face pressed into his shoulder. “Holy shit. Holy shit, dude. This is happening.”

“Sap,” Dream breathes out, one hand still holding his phone as the other snakes around Sapnap’s back to hold him tight. And then he shoves his phone in his pocket, not even bothering ending the call. They can do that later. He wraps his now-free arm around Sapnap too. And then he just takes him in. Closes his eyes, buries his nose in Sapnap’s hair, holds him as close as he can. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” Sapnap’s voice is muffled. Dream doesn’t cry. He won’t let himself. And then Sapnap pulls away, and then he smiles at him, and the tears start pouring.

“Holy shit,” Dream echoes Sapnap’s words from before. “Holy shit. It’s you. You’re... you’re here. With me. And I’m⁠—you’re⁠—you⁠—you’re here!”

“I’m here!” Sapnap concurs. “Oh man.” He pulls Dream back into another hug. It’s the best feeling ever. “Oh, this is great.”

Dream nods, and then the speakers come on again, announcing the final conveyor’s flight. He and Sapnap separate, and Sapnap turns to the conveyor. “Ugh,” he says, “this thing.”

When Dream laughs, it comes out raspy, squeaky, choked. Sapnap glances at him.

“You okay, dude?” he asks.

Dream wipes his eyes, and this time, his hand comes back wet. “Yeah,” he says. “I just can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Sapnap laughs, and it’s better than any music Dream has ever heard. “I know, right? It’s so crazy.” His eyes survey the conveyor all the while. Finally, he must spot his luggage, because he nudges Dream, nodding his head at the conveyor. “I’m gonna....”

“No,” Dream says, and then he’s making his way over, “which one is it? Let me⁠—“

“Oh, it’s⁠—no, it’s okay,” Sapnap tries, but Dream’s hands are already reaching for the suitcase he assumes is his friend’s. When Sapnap nods at the inquisitive look Dream sends him, he grabs it and tugs it off the belt. He has so much he wants to say to him, so much he wants to do with him, but all the words get caught in his throat as he directs Sapnap back to his car. Sapnap is now a steady presence at Dream’s side, a presence he wishes he could keep forever.

In the car, Sapnap tells him about his flight and about what he hopes he can see on this trip and at one point he turns to Dream, lifting a hand to brush away a stray bit of hair that had fallen in his eyes. Dream swallows, and Sapnap’s hand goes right back to his lap, where he holds it down with his other one. “You, uh⁠—don’t want you to crash!”

Dream swallows. “Yeah. That’d be... bad.”

A beat.

“Oh my God,” Sapnap’s shoulders shake with laughter, “this is so dumb.”

Dream starts to laugh too. When they reach a red light and he looks over, Sapnap is already looking back. Dream hopes he mistakes the red in his cheeks for the red from the light.

;;

Day 2

They’re eating lunch in a sunny cafe. The sunlight catches in Sapnap’s hair and spins the auburn locks into gold. Dream finds his eyes continually drawn to them then back down to the content smile that has stretched on his friend’s lips. When he speaks, his smile stays, and Dream has to remind himself to meet his eyes.

Sapnap drums his fingers on the table before he takes a sip of water. “It’s so much brighter here,” he says. “It’s like... I knew it could be sunny, duh. But, like, dude, it’s nothing but sun.”

Dream nods, tilting his chair back to look out through the roof, the sun high in the sky above them. “It’s a lot.”

“You have so many more freckles than I thought you do,” Sapnap says, leaning his chin on his hand. “I don’t even think I could count them all.”

Dream blinks, sitting up. “I—I mean, I don’t think I have that many.”

“Dude,” Sapnap says. He points a finger at his own face, drawing a circle around it. “It’s so many. Like... you could draw constellations there.”

Dream coughs behind a fist. “Um, thanks?”

Sapnap blinks, leaning back, like he’s just realized what he said. “No... no problem. It’s just...,” he gives a laugh, “true.”

A moment passes. Dream lets it go. Sapnap gives another laugh.

“Be honest,” he says, “how freckled are your shoulders?”

;;

Day 3

Dream doesn’t like the beach. Sand gets everywhere, there’s the pounding sun, and, half the time, if you’re not out by 8am, you’ve got no place to put your things. But he’s willing to ignore all this just for another second of Sapnap in the sun, standing proud against the skyline, the beach an endless backdrop behind him.

“So?” Sapnap calls, turning to him. “How freckled are you?”

Dream swallows. His hand comes up to grab the back of his shirt. He pulls it over his head. When he lowers his arms, Sapnap studies him with narrowed eyes, chin resting between his thumb and pointer finger. When he comes closer, Dream wonders if the heat under his skin is from the sun or himself. Sapnap places a hand on his shoulder, and Dream swallows. From himself. Definitely from himself.

“H’m,” Sapnap says. “Not quite.”

“I don’t go to the beach that often,” Dream tells him. “And I don’t wear tank tops a lot either.”

Sapnap hums again before patting his shoulder. Dream looks out over the water. And then. “Race you there.”

Dream wins, and he turns around to rub the victory in his friend’s face, but then Sapnap is grabbing him by the arm and falling into the water, dragging Dream down with him. When they rise, their hair is wet, and Dream’s falls in front of his eyes in thin, wavy tendrils. Sapnap lifts his hand in a repeat of what happened in the car; when the heel of his palm brushes against Dream’s forehead, Dream takes in a breath, staring at his eyes. They don’t even stare back, instead locked on Dream’s hair.

Dream moves first. Sapnap tastes like salt, the bitter tang of the beer he had drunk on the way there, like the sun soaking into his skin, golden honey pouring over his tongue. His fingers find their place in Sapnap’s hair, one at the base of his neck, the other cupping the back of his head, pulling him closer. He feels Sapnap’s hands tug at his shoulders, nails scratch across his back, before they come to rest, one at his waist, one still holding tight to his shoulder.

When Dream pulls away, he’s only given a second to breathe before Sapnap is pulling him back in. The crashing of a wave against them breaks them apart. Dream finds himself winded, staring down at him.

“I…,” he can’t find the words. He licks his lips. The salt of the sea sticks to them.

Sapnap stares back. “I don’t….” He swallows. “I don’t regret it.”

The ocean makes them sway, a dance neither of them properly began. Dream looks out across the ocean, squinting against the sun. He feels Sapnap’s gaze on him all the while. “Me neither,” he says. Finally, Sapnap turns too, gaze on some distant point. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” They both know he’s not talking about the ocean. But it’s not like Dream had been talking about it either.

;;

Day 4

Dream doesn’t know if it’ll last. He wants it to. He really wants it to.

Sapnap lays spread across his bed, phone hovering above his face. Every once in a while he’ll laugh at something, rolling over to show Dream, but for the most part he’s silent. Dream is content to sit in silence too, eyes drifting over to Sapnap every couple of seconds. He can’t help it. Sure, they can FaceTime, they can send pictures (not that Dream sends pictures of himself, not... often. It’s just not something he does), but it’s not the same thing as Sapnap being here, Dream’s eyes left to roam his face, memorize the slope of nose, the shape of his eyebrows, in actual perfect detail—not the pixelated mess you can end up with from your phone. And it’s not the same anyway. On your phone you can’t notice the small details, the minute rise and fall of his chest, the fluttering of his eyelashes. It’s just not the same.

Dream leans down. Sapnap’s gaze goes from his phone to the other’s face.

“Hey,” Dream says.

“Hey yourself,” Sapnap replies.

They move at the same pace.

Dream tangles his fingers into Sapnap’s hair, wondering if he can leave them like that, if they could lay here forever, if he could get Sapnap to stay. It’s stupid, it’s a daydream, a fantasy, something he’s allowed to think about but never have. For a moment, he pretends it’s something he can have.

It tugs at his heartstrings and squeezes his lungs. Sapnap’s dropped his phone and wrapped his arms around Dream, pulling him down so they’re pressed chest to chest. Dream lets himself fall into him.

When they separate, Dream keeps his eyes closed, dragging his lips from the tip of Sapnap’s nose to the flat plane of his forehead. He feels his friend’s breath on his throat, and it sends a shiver down his spine, his body a live wire. Electricity dances along his bones, threatening to light him up completely at the smallest touch. One of Sapnap’s hands slides around to press against his chest, and Dream feels the switch flip, fire spreading through him.

“Fuck,” he breathes against Sapnap’s skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Sapnap asks.

“I can’t do this to you,” Dream replies. “This is—it’s a bad idea. I’m sorry.” He moves to push himself up, to get away from him, but Sapnap’s got a hand on his wrist, gripping his shirt tight, keeping him close.

“Why?” he repeats. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” Dream answers. He swallows, looking away. “Everything.” The grip on his shirt relaxes, and with it, so does Dream, sagging over, exhaustion weighing him down. “I just... I want too much, don’t I?”

“Well....” Dream thinks it’s a ‘yes.’ It sounds like a ‘yes.’ Sapnap’s fingers dance along his jaw; they grip, and Dream is forced to look at him. “You’ve never said what you want.”

“Neither have you.”

Sapnap laughs, light and airy. “That’s true.” His cheeks are flushed. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “You? This? I’ve just been taking what’s given.”

“No,” Dream says. “You... you give just as much.”

Sapnap huffs another laugh, and the grip on his chin loosens so his fingers once again brush gently against his skin. “Alright,” he says. “If you say so.”

“No,” Dream repeats. “I mean it.”

Sapnap studies him for a second. Dream does the same. “So,” Sapnap begins, “what do you want?”

“Same as you,” Dream shrugs, picking at a loose thread in his comforter; he feels the other’s gaze on his face, “and for you to stay.”

“I want that too,” Sapnap begins, but Dream shakes his head.

“It’s more than just you being here,” he says. “It’s like... I want to just... have you here, all the time, and when you’re not here, I want to know you’re coming back, and it’s like....” He makes a noise in his throat.

Sapnap falls back onto the bed. “It’s a lot.”

Dream nods, imitating the motion. Sapnap takes his hand.

“So do we keep this going?” he asks. “Or do we pause?”

;;

Day 5

Sapnap will come back to Florida. Dream will go to Texas. They’ll go somewhere else, together. They just have to wait.

“Pause it,” Dream says finally over dinner. “We can think it over. It was sudden. It was... the sun, it’s new, you’re here. It’s a lot.”

“It’s a lot,” Sapnap agrees.

“So we pause it,” Dream says. It’s not running away. Sapnap gets another handful of fries. “When we meet again, we’ll see how we feel.”

“Okay,” Sapnap says.

Dream nods. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

;;

Day 6

Sapnap’s palms are warm on Dream’s back, and Dream closes his eyes as he feels the other’s fingers trace constellations in the freckles on his skin.  I love you, he thinks. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“You’re my best friend,” he says instead.

“You too.”

Dream doesn’t kiss him. He wants to.

;;

Day 7

The drive to the airport is one spent in silence. It’s obvious neither of them want it to be. Dream’s fingers drum on the steering wheel as Sapnap taps an unknown beat on his knee. Dream curls his fingers around the wheel, holding it tight as Sapnap looks over at him. Even when Dream thinks the other might speak, he doesn’t, merely keeping his gaze steady on him.

Dream glances over. Sapnap stares back.

He wants to say it. He can always say it. He means it. He’s always meant it. But he never meant it this way.

Dream puts a hand on the console. Sapnap takes it. Dream squeezes his hand tight and wishes he’d never have to let go.

When they arrive at the airport, they both get out because Dream’ll be damned if he ends things in a half-hug over the center console. He walks Sapnap as far as he can, the suitcase clanging behind them until they pass it on to the airline, and then nothing but their footsteps between them. When they reach security, Dream’s fingers are twitching with the need to reach out and touch, to get his last fill of him before he goes, and Sapnap has his hands shoved in his pockets. Dream wonders if he feels the same.

“So,” Sapnap says.

“So,” Dream agrees.

They don’t kiss. They want to.

Dream pulls him into a hug. He feels Sapnap bury his face in his neck and hold him tighter. He doesn’t cry. They’ll see each other again. He doesn’t cry.

They’ll see each other again.

;;

Stepping off the plane is perhaps the best feeling in the world. His legs are cramped from sitting in the chair for so long, and his eyes feel heavy with the poor nap he took. Stretching in the bright morning sun that filters through the large windows is heaven.

And then he’s making his way to baggage claim.

He doesn’t run, but perhaps he cuts some corners, near knocks over a display and a violinist, trips over his feet in his haste to get to where he needs to be. Where he’ll be.

Dream reaches baggage claim.

Of course Sapnap sees him first, eyes wide with excitement, like they’ve never met before, never done exactly this before, mouth opening in a shout, a grin. Dream runs.

It hasn’t even been that long. Less than a season. Not much more than a month. But it feel like forever. They both pull away from the hug they threw themselves into and Dream finds himself asking:

“Still paused?”

Sapnap kisses him. Dream kisses him back. Into Dream’s mouth, he says, “I’ve missed you.”

Into his mouth, Dream says, “I love you.”