#i was literally on the verge of sleep all night but it seemed like i never fully slept until a couple hours before morning

[ddaengju]

.

[dorotheataylor]

Hugs and kisses

Pairing- Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Summary- Sometimes even the strongest ones need comfort and Peter finds it in your arms.

Warnings- none literally, this is just a soft fic coz peter deserves all the love and hugs in the world, my poor english is a warning tho :’)

Word Count- 687

A/N- I thought of this while listening to ‘Sweet Nothing’ by Taylor Swift and here it is. Also I changed fandoms lol. dw i still write for harry potter but i’ll write for marvel too now. And this can be read for any peter but I imagined tasm peter here :3 Hope y’all like this <3

You were about to get into bed, after having done your nighttime skincare and changing into your pyjamas, when you heard soft knocks on your window.

You went over to open it, knowing it was Peter. Whenever he visited you after his night patrols, it was always near this time. You would go on about your day while he told about his and then went to sleep together while snuggled close to each other.

Today it seemed a little different. Because when you moved the curtains to get a look at him, his expressions were different from what they always were. Like he was upset about something.

You quickly unlatched your window and let him inside. You turned to face him and furrowed your eyebrows when he didn’t meet your eyes.

Something was definitely up.

“Peter, love, is everything okay?” you said softly, not wanting him to break. “You know you can tell me anything,” you start, wanting to break the silence, but he flinches at your voice. you let out a shaky exhale and step forward, reaching a hand up, slowly, like approaching a skittish animal, to press your palm to his cheek. he unconsciously chases the warmth, his hair parting to reveal his eyes, sadder than you’ve ever seen them. your heart lurches for him. “oh, Peter.”

He leaned in your touch and sighed in content. Slowly you lifted your other hand to cup both his cheeks while he looked on the verge of tears.

“I- I just needed to see you. He- he said that,” Peter couldn’t even bring himself to properly say that. After that random bad guy he had just fought told him he had attacked you, he needed to make sure you were okay.

“It’s okay, Peter. I’m here.” You said, voice still soft as you start to caress his cheek with your thumb.

Peter couldn’t keep it in anymore, as he immediately buried his face in your neck and held you tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop your heart from breaking after seeing him in such a state. The way he sounded, the way you could feel his tears on your neck, you couldn’t help but shed some tears as well as you spoke soothing words to him.

Moments like these brought comfort to Peter. Him in your arms, you holding him tightly, speaking softly and trying to comfort him, he sometimes wonders what he has done to deserve this, to deserve you. Your arms were his go to place when things got hard, being spiderman wasn’t easy. And it felt great that you out of all people knew about him and still loved the real him.

Both of you stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, with none of you wanting to let go of each other. But you didn’t mind it, Peter deserved all your love and affection.

After few moments, you slowly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence you both were in, “lets get you changed so that we can cuddle in bed. Sounds good?”

He seemed hesitant to let you go, but he loosened his grip and pulled away to look you in the eye, arms still loosely wound around your waist. He seemed almost meek like this—to the point it almost felt like you’re not looking at the strongest. Right now, it kinda just feels like you’re looking at a man—a man who has the entire weight of the New York on his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, his voice still wavering. “You- You’re everything. God I love you so much.”

You smiled gently at him as you cupped his cheek again, he kissed your palm, and you said, “I love you too, Peter. More than words can express.”

With that, Peter cupped your face and brought his lips onto yours, pouring all his love, affection, fears and everything he felt for you into it. You kissed him back with same passion, sealing a promise of never leaving him into this kiss.

Because maybe in that moment, this was all you both needed.

[fayeforrosie]

Don't Make a Sound

Karaoke Nights Pt 2

Yunjin X Fem! Reader

Yunjin takes you to her dorm after finding herself having a lot more fun than she should've with you, and you know the night ahead will be one to remember

Read Karaoke Nights Pt 1 here

Warnings- Swearing, use of cannabis, sexual themes, choking, literally just pure smut

Word Count- 3.8k

There was a comfortable silence surrounding the Lesserafim dorms, all members sleeping peacefully in their separate rooms, lights dimmed low and the air conditioning being the only noise heard in all.

Chaewon had texted Yunjin asking of her whereabouts, and after getting a sincere responds, and her safety guaranteed, Chaewon allowed herself to get the sleep she needed, dismissing the fact that she could slightly hear the sound of faint laughter coming from the front door, thinking it was just Yunjin being obnoxious again.

You stumbled against the front door, Yunjin's hand wrapped over your mouth in attempt to contain your laughter as she fumbled with her keys. Just as she finally unlocked the door, before she could open it the idol looked down at you.

"You better be quiet when we walk in, got it?" She demanded in a stern yet almost unserious tone, and you found it a bit arousing.

"Yes master", you said sarcastically, earning an almost deafening laugh from Yunjin before she threw her hand to her mouth and disguised herself.

"You really are something", the girl mutters before slowly creaking the door ajar.

The two of you begin to tip-toe in, your hand in Yunjin's while she leads the way to her private room. You hear a floorboard creak bellow you, and the two of you stop like a deer in headlights, scared that it might have woken somebody up, but after a few seconds of stillness, you continue.

Finally Yunjin slowly pushes her own door open, holding it for you as you lead the way in.

Yunjin's dorm was different from what you expected. It might have been a stupid assumption, but you thought that maybe all idols would have a cute little room with adorable little princess posters, stuffed animals decorating their bed with fairy lights wrapped around the headboard. You were wrong, however, because Yunjin's room was nothing like you would think it would be.

She firstly had various records against her gray walls, different sizes in different areas, and additionally, she had a few posters of some music artists you could recognize. Nonetheless, a few things catching your attentions was the immense amount of clothes and items pilled onto her floor, almost too crowded for you to even walk, and you noticed an ashtray beside her bed in the shape of what seemed to be Michael Scott, which you thought was funny. The idol had a tapestry that was most likely an unserious thing, as it had Bertram from Jeese with a pride flag on his left cheek on it, and that was probably your favorite accessory here.

"I like the tapestry", you commented, and Yunjin came from behind you, her left hand rested atop of your butt with her head leaning on your shoulder. She was still a little high, so Yunjin had no problem being so touchy with you, and anyway, you seemed to enjoy it just as much as she did.

"Thanks", she smirked, her head tilted as you felt her teeth up against your neck.

You were on the verge of responding to her gratitude, however your breath instantly hitched when Yunjins lips began to move against the skin on your neck. Her lips were the softest pair you have ever had graze your body, the texture not far from what you would imagine a cloud to be.

"I'm obsessed with your body", Yunjin expresses, her hands complementing her remark as she slides them across your waist. You lean your head back on her shoulder, giving the idol free access to the entirety of your neck, and Yunjin doesn't hesitate to take advantage of what she is given, her tongue sliding across the bottom of your neck before her lips connect to your skin, already forming a hickey.

"Have you ever been fucked by a woman before", Yunjin questions, her hands still wandering free.

You shake your head, because although you have had a few sexual encounters with woman, you wouldn't exactly label them as getting fucked, more just a quick thing where a girl would go down on you in the bathroom of some party, or something like that.

"Good."

Yunjin lets go of your body and pushes you towards the bed, and you stumble to lay on your back, quickly smiling when you see the idol crawl over to you. Once level with your face, the American attaches her lips onto yours, moaning at how much she missed this feeling already.

Yunjin wastes no time in sliding her tongue into your mouth, her left hand beginning to make its way towards your neck, slowly wrapping around it, as if she was testing the waters, seeing how you would react. When she squeezes tighter, eliciting a moan from you, she knows she can be rough.

"Are you still high?" Yunjin asks you, her lips now painting a portrait on your jawline.

"A little, but I know what I'm doing", you respond.

"Good, because I'm starting to sober up, and I just want to make sure this is what you want."

Your hand rubs the back of her neck, your other squeezing her waist to ground yourself.

"I want this more than anything Yunjin", you lean slightly down, striving to reach the idol's lips, and Yunjin comes to notice this, tilting her head and connecting her lips to yours earnestly, tongue already equipped to explore your mouth.

"I want to eat your pussy so bad", Yunjin claims between kisses breathlessly, "your lips already taste like heaven", she moves her hand down to your clothed folds, rubbing against them subtly, "I wonder how you taste here."

You can't help but open your mouth, a hushed moan easily slipping off your tongue before you can hold it back, and it tickles the back of Yunjin's neck.

"Yunjin", your hands, while they previously were rubbing the back of her neck, are now clawing, in desperate need for her to do something to your body, anything.

"What baby, tell me."

You don't know if your senses are still fuzzy from the weed that you only imagined her calling you that, but it still wakes the butterflies inside your stomach once again.

"Please", you frantically beg, voice at a whisper, careful to not wake her members.

Yunjin doesn't like how you aren't expressing yourself, so she takes her hand away from your pants and places it against your cheek, forcing you to look at her.

Her thumb rubs along your bottom lip, and you open your mouth like you had done in the booth before, but the idol only laughs at you and pushes your face to look into an opposite direction, leaning to whisper in your ear.

"You're so quick to open that perfect mouth of yours for me aren't you", she plants a kiss on the shell of your ear, and your hand comes up to your mouth to block the sounds practically begging to come out.

"You want me so bad, don't you?"

You nod, hand still covering your mouth, and Yunjin despises that, so she grabs your jaw and forces you to look at her again, gripping a little harsher than intended.

"I'm not going to fuck your stupid little cunt until you answer me", Yunjin remarks sternly, eyebrows furrowed as if she was seriously mad, and in your perspective, you would think she was indeed upset.

"Yes Yunj-"

"Call me Jen", Yunjin cuts you off, her hold on your jaw loosening slightly. Being called Jen, a nickname she is referred to by only her closest of friends, was something she always wanted to be called by her romantic partner, and she doesn't know why she requested for you to do so, but it could be a thought for another time.

"O-ok... Jen", your eyes are trained on her, and while you are moderately intimidated, and a bit turned on by her glare, you decide to let the situation take over your body, so you leave all your nerves behind and give the woman on top of you what she wants.

"I want you to crawl to the bottom of the bed, get down in front of my pussy, and eat me out", you demand assertively, your gaze holding hers, as if the two of you were in a game, the loser being the one who broke off the stare in an act of intimidation.

"There you go", Yunjin uses her thumb on your bottom lip to open your mouth again, but you refuse to act further, afraid she might pull away, however your eyes broaden as you see her subsequently spit into your mouth, tasting her very own saliva on the base of your tongue, and she closes your mouth once again with a push under your chin.

"I guess you do know how to use that fucking mouth", she lightly taps your cheek before making her way to the middle of your thighs, hovering over your zipper of your pants.

She grasps onto the button, undoing the clasp before sliding down the zipper underneath. She slowly grabs onto the top of your pants, steadily bringing them down, taking her sweet time as a way to tease you, possibly for taking so long to answer her, or for her own foreplay pleasure, and once your pants reach your knees, you take it upon yourself to kick them off.

Once your pants are ridden to the opposite side on the room, Yunjin leans down to face the center of your underwear, hurriedly sliding those off, antithetical to how she was with your pants, and once the idol catches sight of what's in front of her, Yunjin practically drools.

"So fucking beautiful", Yunjin professes, her middle finger tracing across your folds, collecting a trail of your wetness before she places the same finger into her mouth, moaning at the taste, and you twitch from the sudden contact.

After getting a taste of you on her finger, Yunjin immediately knew she needed more, so without wasting a second, Yunjin pulled your legs under her shoulder and dove her head straight into your aching cunt. She closed her eyes, imagining the taste as something creating by the Gods from above, as if she was tasting the sweet nectar of an angel, and quite frankly, she was.

"God", Yunjin mumbled before attaching her lips to your clit, flicking her tongue across speedily in a way that made you audibly moan, forgetting about the circumstances, and you instantly brought a hand up to cover your mouth, your opposite one tangled in Yunjin's hair.

The way Yunjin's tongue jerked skillfully across your swollen clit, her fingers digging into your waste as her lips sucked harshly over were her tongue would brush, sent you into heaven. Your grip on her hair tightened and your head flew back, now faced with her white ceiling, still not sober enough to be able to tell the distance in which it had with your head, but the way Yunjin was eating your pussy so well, you might as well be seeing stars rather than a plane white wall.

"Fuck Jen, it feels so good", you moan silently as you grip the sheets below you with your right hand.

You begin to grind into Yunjin's face, hips rolling up in a middling pace, and with how good you taste, and how much of your cunt is smothered over Yunjin's mouth, the idol suddenly gets the urge to have more. To have more of you. To have more of your pussy. She can't just have her head in between your legs, she needs to have you on her.

When Yunjin pulls away, you moan at the discomfort of no longer having the warmth of her mouth, and you are about to complain but by the speed in which Yunjin was changing her position, you got the idea that she was planning something.

Yunjin's back collides with the mattress, now laying across from you.

"Come here", Yunjin asserts, and you lift yourself up with your elbow, an impatient Yunjin waiting for you to get on with it, and when you begin to wrap your leg to straddle the idol, she lets her restlessness get the best of her and pulls you harshly onto her, grabbing your waste to steady you.

You lean down and collide your lips with hers, mouth open as her tongue instantly enters, her hand finding itself comfortable on your neck.

"Sit on my face", Yunjin breathlessly whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on your cheek before you obey her words, getting off your knees and shuffling over to her face, now hovering her.

Yunjin looks up to face you, feeling a pool of wetness in her own cunt arise when she sees how you look above her, your pussy practically already dripping onto her lips.

The idol wraps her arms around your thighs and pulls you down eagerly, her tongue darting out and inserting itself into your hole, her lips anxiously sucking.

"God Jen, fuck!" You place one hand on her head while the other steadies your body by holding onto the adjacent head board. You go back to grinding on her mouth, this time you speedily moved your hips in order to chase your inevitable high.

"Yes god baby", your eyes are still trained on the ceiling, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer, "I'm gonna cum Jen."

Hearing this, Yunjin works her tongue faster, her right hand slipping down to her own pussy as she rubs her clit to the sounds of your impatient moans, feeling that she is going to cum with you as well.

You dig your teeth into your hand, a muffled moan screeching off your tongue as you finally reach your high. You move your hips rapidly, riding out your orgasm, unknowingly assisting Yunjin in her attempt to finish, her fingers rubbing hastily across her clit, her own moan enveloped by your cunt.

"Fuck Jen that felt so good", you comment, not before Yunjin laps up every last drop of liquid that escaped you.

You now lay beside her, chest rising and falling while you tried to catch your breath. Your high felt so good, it might have sobered you up to the point where you could easily speak for yourself and act upon whatever you wished.

"Stay here", Yunjin mutters, planting a kiss on your lips and getting up from the bed.

"I don't think I have anywhere to go", you laugh to yourself, however you don't hear anything from Yunjin, that is until your ears perk at the sound of a draw opening, and seconds later the bed dips with Yunjins body.

"Sit up", the idol says, and that's when you notice what was attached to her hips; a excessively sizeable strap.

Yunjin adjusts herself so she is now behind you, her hands enfolding your waist, and you feel her bare chest up against the skin of your back. You didn't even notice she took her shirt off, so you sneakily turn your head in the slightest to catch a glimpse of her breasts, and when your little mission is complete, you turn back around in satisfaction.

"What was that?" Yunjin huffs a giggle out, lightening the mood, however her hands failing to support her tone when they slide down to your distended pussy, rubbing through your slit as if she was preparing you for what's to come.

"I didn't realize you took off your shirt", you look back to the girl, and she smiles when she sees your face, kissing your lips swiftly, "I just wanted to see what they looked like."

Yunjin allows her head to fall on your shoulder, laughing at how cute you were.

"I want to see yours as well", Yunjin follows, and then unclasps your bra and rids it to the side, now able to admire your full body. She sighs at how perfect your breasts looked, her hands coming up to squeeze and trace along the curves.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met", Yunjin complements her words with small kisses scattered across your neck and shoulder.

"Kiss me."

The idol wastes no time in fulfilling your demand, her lips attaching themselves to yours like second nature, sliding together like puzzle pieces.

In the midst of your make out session, Yunjin removes her hand from your waste, bringing it to her strap and aligning it with your entrance.

"Are you ready?" Yunjin whispers, her forehead against yours.

"Please."

Yunjin's hand slides over your mouth, covering it as she enters your pussy, the wetness assisting how easy it was for her to slide in. It takes you a while to adjust, needing a few seconds after she fully bottoms out, and you bite onto her hand, your opposite arm engulfing the back of her head.

"God so good", you moan.

After knowing you were in a comfortable place, Yunjin moves her hips slowly, pumping into your entrance with ease. It's only a minute later that Yunjins begins to move at a faster paste, her hand still over your mouth, knowing you would scream aloud without the help of her.

"Fuck Y/n", Yunjin bites your shoulder, her free hand moving to rub against your piercing clit, "you're pussy feels so good."

How Yunjin whispers into the back of your ear makes the little hairs scattered across your body rise, goosebumps forming on your skin effortlessly, and with how fast Yunjin was going now, you found it hard to conceal your moans, and even with her hand covering your mouth, your noises began to get more and more audible.

"You better be fucking quiet", Yunjin mutters, "wouldn't want any of the members coming in here and seeing such a slut bounce on my cock."

Her dirty talk does no help in keeping you quiet, and Yunjin knows this, but does nothing to help, teasing you to your breaking point.

"You like this huh?" Yunjin spits down onto your breast, spreading her saliva across and squeezing your hardened nipple.

"You like being treated like a fucking whore", the rubbing of Yunjins fingers on your clit intensifies, "you better keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut before someone catches you."

Your head flies backwards onto her neck and you scream her name into the girls hand, clawing at her neck behind you as you bounce mercilessly on her dick.

"Now baby...", Yunjin slows her pace down, "I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth, and I'm going to fuck your tiny little cunt until your legs are shaking on my bed, and I swear to fucking god if you so much as even make a noise, I'm going to shove this cock down your throat so you can't make them anymore. Got it?"

You swear you could cum just off of what the woman behind you said, your cunt already tightening around her cock, and all you can do is allow a tear to slip from your eye and nod your head.

Just then, Yunjin removes her hand from your mouth, placing it below your chin.

"Spit", she declares, and you do just that, biting your lip to hold in your moan when Yunjin uses your own saliva to rub your clit rapidly.

Subsequently, the idol pushes you down so you are on all fours, and you feel too weak that you can barely even hold yourself up from your shoulders.

Yunjin doesn't stop pounding into you from the back, her hand colliding against your ass too many times for you to count, and you find it a bit hypocritical that she was making an immense amount of noise above you, all the while demanding you mustn't mutter a single word while she fucked you this hard.

Your head is deep into the sheets, tears at the brim of your eyes once again and you find it insanely hard to not let out any noises.

"I'm close", you whisper, just loud enough for Yunjin to hear and pick up her pace.

You can't take it anymore when the girl grabs your hair and pulls it back, finding everything all too arousing to handle.

"Nothing to hide your moans anymore", Yunjin smirks, knowing well of what she's doing.

"I'm going to make you cum on this cock and you're gonna stay fucking silent."

One last pound into your G-spot sends you into complete and utter abyss, and you open your mouth to release a prolonged round of moans imploring to escape, but you think back to what Yunjin asked you to do, and you hold it in to the best of your ability, body jerking as a result of the unreleased tension. You think you hear Yunjin mutter a 'good girl' behind you, but you are too high on lust to even notice.

"Fuck", you breath, "that was so good."

-

"So have you ever fucked a fan before?" You question.

All the lights were turned off in Yunjin's room now, the two of you lay beside each other, staring up at the ceiling, high once again after smoking a newly rolled blunt.

"Yeah every night."

You look over to the idol, only to see she was already looking at your with a goofy smile, and that's when you realize she's joking, so you unconsciously let out a sigh of relief.

"Believe it or not but you're my first one", she smiles.

"Wow... it's an honor."

"Oh yeah?" You can practically hear Yunjin's smirk beside you.

"Shut up, you're too cocky."

"Well", Yunjin faces you again, her head now rested securely atop of her hand, "my cockiness brought me you. If I wasn't cocky enough to make a move, maybe we wouldn't be here."

"Oh save it, I was the one who made the move", you smile and place your head on your hand like Yunjin had done, facing her.

"What? I was totally the one to do it!"

"If that's what helps you sleep at night", you laugh, earning a soft push on your chest, and when you come back, Yunjin grab your neck and softly pulls you to her, connecting her lips to yours.

"I want to see you again", the idol mumbles against you.

"Me too", you smile.

"Let's get coffee tomorrow. No drugs or anything, just us two."

You raise your eyebrows at the girl, "are you asking me on a date?"

"I'm not asking", Yunjins thumb runs across your cheek softly, "I'm telling you."

"And what if I say no?" You giggle.

"You wouldn't", the idol arrogantly cracks.

"You're right", you shake your head in defeat and Yunjin's smile brightens.

"So it's a date?" She infers, and you nod contentedly.

"It's a date."

~

Yahhhh part 2!!! The end part kind of looks rushed lol, but i hope everyone liked it:)) i almost never write smut so it was definitely something new to me, but ill work on getting better🙏🙏 I love you all thank you for your support<33

Next up... The Only One I Want Pt 5;)

[becca-bells]

Legs wrapped around my beard

Summary: Sapnap is worried about hurting reader but that's exactly what she wants.

Pairing: Fem! reader x Sapnap

Warnings: (18+ Minors DNI) Oral female receiving, talk about penetrative sex, talk about Oral male receiving. Literally shit writing. Massive warning for that.

You and Sapnap have only engaged in vanilla sex. Ever. Slow and soft missionary sex. Maybe throw in a blow job here and there.

Every time you bring up the idea of him eating you out, he says “I’m tired” and heads off to sleep.

You’re obviously self-conscious, but are too afraid to say anything.

Sapnap would love to go down on you. If he could, he would live between your legs. But, there have been times with his ex-lovers where he gets lost in the taste that he doesn’t hear them crying for him to stop, he doesn’t feel their hands trying to push him away. It gets to the point where they are on the verge of blacking out before he removes his mouth.

What he doesn’t know is that you’re a freak. You love being overstimulated to the point of no return. You would love to black out from all the pleasure you’re receiving. The indescribable feeling you have after you’ve squirted is a feeling you’ve only had when Sap is away on work trips to meet with his friends. You’re way too afraid to bring this to his attention, afraid of his reaction.

Returning from work, you walk into the house after a horrible day. Not only that but you had been running through all the reasons why Sapnap wouldn’t go down on you. You couldn’t come up with any sane answers. Seeing your visibly frustrated face, Sapnap met you at the door, “Hey love, how are you feeling?”. Sapnap internally cringed. He knew it was a stupid question, but it was the best line he could come up with at that point in time.

You honestly didn’t give a flying fuck any more and asked, “Why won’t you eat me out? Because I have been thinking of all the possibilities and I just don’t know. Am I not good enough?” You continued rambling on, finally being cut off with a harsh kiss to your lips. 

“Baby that’s not why I won’t go down on you baby” He sighs, pulling away from you slowly. Head tilted towards the ground, his right hand fiddling with the rings on the end. “Honestly? I’m scared. I get so lost in my head when I go down on girls that I almost hurt them. I love you and I don’t want to hurt. I get so lost in my head that I don’t realize I’ve made them cum so many times that they are on the verge of passing out. I don’t want that to be you.”

You visibly blush, not only from hearing him say he loves and cares for you, but also from hearing him talk like that. You shouldn’t be so wet right now, especially because your boyfriend is upset but you want him to do those things to you. You want him to overstimulate you to the point where you’re crying for him to stop, you want him to make you cum 'till you physically have to tear his head away from your pussy. So, that’s what you say to him. 

“Baby, I want you to do that to me. I know we haven't talked much about our kinks, but I want you to eat me out ‘till I’m crying for you to stop. I want you to make me cum so many times that I almost black out. I want you to overstimulate me. Baby, I want you to make me cum and squirt in your mouth until I can’t take it any more. I want to be your good girl”

He’s understandably shocked. It takes no time at all for that to be shown on his face but, not before, he lets out a groan; something you could only hear in porn. 

“So is that a yes to trying it out?” You ask with total confidence.

“Not now” He says, “I want to make it the best night imaginable. I want to be able to set something up. I promise though, baby girl that it will happen, just not tonight.”

Two days have passed since your conversation with Sapnap and nothing has happened apart from a bit of making out here and there. You’ve been at work all day and after the stressful day you’ve had you had, had enough of this waiting game. But it seems as if you didn’t have to wait any longer. Walking through your front door, you see tea light candles and rose petals leading the way towards your bedroom door. Upon opening, you walk into the room with rose petals in the shape of a heart. 

You don’t hear your bathroom door open, but you feel arms wrapping around you, their head resting on your shoulder, sending light kisses onto your neck. 

“Baby this is amazing” you say, definitely amazed at the effort he put into this.

“Of course baby, anything for you” he replies with a huskiness in his voice. You immediately turn to give him a kiss, but slowly it turns into a desperate make out session. Him pulling you closer than you thought was humanly possible. Bringing his hands behind your thighs, giving you the unspoken instruction to jump.

Being slammed up against the wall by your boyfriend was hot. Both of you were desperate for anything the other was willing to give. Eventually, he lays you on the bed, slowly taking each other's clothes off, so desperately trying to keep your lips together. 

Your tits are out in one swift movement. A skill you were unaware of your boyfriend holding. He unclipped that shit with one hand. While you were sitting there impressed, your boyfriend had already taken your pants off, leaving you only in your panties.

He took the largest sniff and a tiny little lick over your panties. He was moaning in pleasure. That dark spot that was leaking made him feel like a horny teenage boy. With his teeth, he slid your panties down your legs. Kissing his way up your legs and thighs before diving in. 

He could feel himself lose it for a bit before coming back to his senses. He didn’t want to hurt you, no matter what you said to him.

Eyes staring up at you as licked from your hole all the way up to your clit. That moan that made him harder than he was before, which he didn’t know was possible; was porn worthy. He swirled his tongue around your clit before sucking on it. 

Your mind was slush. He has a god's tongue. His hands holding your thighs to keep you open for him. He lost all control, diving in as if it is his last meal. He came up to breathe, you couldn't tell what was your slick and what was his spit. He ate you out, even though it was messy, it was hot as fuck. 

He moaned. You could feel the vibrations course through your body, bringing you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the night. His lips wrapped around your tiny bud as you came hard. Shaking from your first orgasm. But, you knew it wasn’t over. You didn’t want it to be. Sapnap licked and ate everything you gave him. He knew he was addicted. 

He hadn’t come up to breathe, but that didn’t matter to him. 

He rolled over, you were now sitting on his face. Arms wrapped underneath and over your thighs, holding him tightly to your pussy. His nose nudges your clit. You start grinding on him. His tongue brings you to your second orgasm of the night, with screams of his name. Your neighbours will now know his name if they didn’t already. 

You were now crying. You suddenly had the urge to pee. You knew what was coming. You tried to warn him. “S-S-Sap b-baby I’m going T-TO SQUIRT” You scream, feeling the pressure release as you squirted on his face. His mouth went directly under to drink it up. He was not going to let anything go to waste. 

Moaning, he went back in. His mouth and tongue didn’t slow down. He never half-assed anything sex related, why would he start now, he continued drawing the alphabet on your clit, occasionally going in with his lips to suck on your clit. You were so close, he was drawing you closer and closer with his magic tongue. He held you still as you were trying to push his head away from your pussy. 

You came three times. It was becoming a little too much for you. Squirting again on his face, it was like a fountain; it wouldn’t stop. Again, Sapnap drank it all up. Not wasting a single drop. You could see black dots coming into your vision, slowly making you fall limp. 

Sapnap was about to go back in when he felt more weight on his legs. Looking up, he realized you passed out.

He felt so guilty. He got you cleaned up with a wet hand towel, waiting patiently for you to wake. 

You groan slightly, eyes opening and setting on Sapnap. “Hey baby, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He continues to ramble until you use the little energy you have to reach up and kiss him. 

He stops and looks at you.

“Baby don’t apologise. That was one of the best nights of my entire life. It was so fucking hot. You were so fucking hot. I definitely want to try that again.” you say with a slight giggle.

He looks at you with a proud smile on his face. “So does that mean we might be able to try some other things?” he says with a wink at the end. 

“I mean, if it means that I get to cum like that, we can definitely look into it”

[lookismfanfics]

Hello! I've discovered your blog and your Lookism works are just- *chef's kiss* 😘 I've been wondering if I could request headcanons for the Lookism Bois (especially my baby Vasco, plus anyone your prefer) on how they would react to a tired s/o.

If this is too much, feel free to ignore this :)

Stay safe and keep yourself hydrated!

-🐮anon

“𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝?”

Thank you for the request! I did my best… hopefully this is okay.

Warnings: Fluff! Mentions of snarkiness (?)

Vasco • Gun •

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

ఌ You aren’t constantly tired… and he knows that.

ఌ So it’s only natural that he’s a little worried; and honestly, you can’t blame him.

ఌ You sit with him against the wall, fighting a literal war with yourself to keep your eyes open.

ఌ This week in general has been crazy tiring.

ఌ And how here you are- hanging out with the leader of the Burn Knuckles while on the verge of falling asleep

ఌ Vasco leans forward on the balls of his feet, staring at you shamelessly with unmasked concern.

ఌ You get the sense that you missed something, glancing at him. Euntee, indeed, is looking at you expectantly.

ఌ You rub your eyes, “Huh? Sorry did you say something?”

ఌ Vasco’s eyebrows draw together tightly. “Mhm. Are you tired?”

ఌ It’s not normal for you to be this out of it. Usually, after school, you and Vasco will sit somewhere- anywhere -to talk about how your days went.

ఌ He’ll tell you about funny things that happened, and you’ll give him your full attention (or as much as you can spare) and laugh with him.

ఌ But not today. Today you’re sleepwalking through this conversation, and he can tell.

ఌ “Yeah, just a little.”

ఌ “Why?”

ఌ You adjust your sitting position, slumping further against the wall. “Homework.”

ఌ “But you’re always better than me about homework…” he says slowly, eyes still dark and glazed with seriousness, while his cheeks flush with childish persona.

ఌ And while you nod and mumble an offhand reply about how this week’s assignments were just a bit more difficult, and how time had slipped from you, Vasco seems less than assured that you’re alright.

ఌ He slides his hand into his pocket.

ఌ “Here. It’ll keep you awake.”

ఌ You try not to smile like an idiot, taking the carton of chocolate milk he’s extended to you.

ఌ He wants to keep you awake… and at the same time, he wants to get you somewhere comfortable so you can sleep.

ఌ He knows for a fact that teenagers need a good nights rest to keep growing. Mentally and physically.

ఌ You puncture the top of the carton with the straw, feeling the weight of Vasco’s stare once again on you.

ఌ “I’ll be fine you know. I’ll just take a nap if I still feel tired.”

ఌ He looks at the ground, cheeks flaring sheepishly. You try not to smile, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

ఌ He turns to you. “I will be your bed. If you want to sleep right now.”

ఌ 😮‍💨😅

ఌ You cough violently, pulling back from the straw shoved in your mouth. Vasco pats your back.

ఌ Him: 👁️〰️👁️

ఌ You look up at him dubiously. He returns your stare, completely serious.

ఌ “Sleep on a rock? I’m… okay…” you laugh, trying to keep your face from heating up too much. It feels hot in your cheeks, although to be honest you aren’t one to blush to often around Vasco.

ఌ It’s the thought that counts.

ఌ Vasco walks you home, giving you a piggy-back into your room.

ఌ He insists that he stays. He “needs to ensure they get a good nights rest.”

ఌ You fall asleep with Vasco looming in the corner of your room. You wake up nuzzled into his chest.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

ఌ Out of all the days for you to fall asleep at random, burned out from exhaustion, and having little-to-no self awareness, it had to be today.

ఌ The day you would be out with Gun, driving around the Korean countryside in his sports car.

ఌ You didn’t want to go before… and now you really didn’t want to go now.

ఌ Yet here you are. Miserably smushed into the corner of the passenger seat.

ఌ You rub your eyes to keep them open- even as the warmth of the sunlight lulls you to sleep.

ఌ Driving the car, paying little attention to you, is Park Gun.

ఌ You yawn, and he shoots you daggers 🗡️

ఌ “If you didn’t wanna come you should’ve said so.”

ఌ This is what he’s like when you’re out and about. If you seem tired- it automatically means you’re disinterested. According to him.

ఌ “Well today’s just a bad day. Can we go home now?” You ask grumpily

ఌ He turns to you, eyes shaded by his sunglasses. You can see just a hint of a smile on his lips.

ఌ “That’s where I’m taking you.”

ఌ And as soon as you’re home, he’s a bit more understanding; albeit he continues to be judgmental about the whole thing.

ఌ It’s straight to bed for you. He stands by the door impatiently, the car keys slung on his finger and his jacket hanging off his shoulder.

ఌ Guilt-tripping. Lovely

ఌ Gun watches quietly as you take off your accessories (jacket, shoes) and accepts the sleepy glare you give him

ఌ It wasn’t completely your fault… but this guy had been dragging you around to all the exotic locations in Korea for “kicks”

ఌ Late nights out plus your pile of schoolwork at home hadn’t been coordinating well at all.

ఌ He gestures towards your bedroom, and all you can do is sigh irritably.

ఌ “Look I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my fault that people get tired.”

ఌ “It doesn’t matter to me. Fact is we were supposed to have a date today.”

ఌ You nod your head tiredly, entering your bedroom. You didn’t even catch his next comment: “My proposal was ruined thanks to me being an ignorant boyfriend. So… my bad.”

ఌ You collapse into your bed, Gun’s quiet but snarky comments ringing in your head

ఌ You fall asleep by yourself. You wake up with lofi playing and a glass of water on the bedside table.

ఌ He also left you a note in sloppy handwriting, that read: 丅ᗩᛕᗴ ᑕᗩᖇᗴ ᗝᖴ Ƴᗝᑌᖇᔕᗴᒪᖴ ᔕᒪᗴᗴᑭƳ ᗩᔕᔕ

[evilcowgirl]

OH MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE!!!! idek remember my username from when i used to spam u but HI?!?!?!?! i missed you so bad your theme is literally ADORRABLEEEEEEEEEEEE !!

since you said tlou asks are open, could I ask for a drabble w/ ellie? maybe one where the reader comforts her through a panic attack involving joel, or one where her and the reader are snowed in at one of jackson's outposts and end up confessing to eachother? i don't mind which one u pick :333

knuckle velvet ♡

ellie williams/reader

a/n: HI BABE !!!!! I MISSED U 2 THANK U SM :D eeek !! okay okay so i lovee this sm and ill prob. do ur second option soon too bc its soo cute, hope u like this hehe mwah <3

୨♡୧

You still weren't used to this, any of it, and nights like this one reminded you of that fact. The wind caused a whistling sound against the windows that frightened you awake when you were on the verge of sleep. This was nothing compared to the creaking sounds of the old farmhouse that only seemed to happen when you were already paranoid. It helped to have Ellie with you, her presence alone calmed you, made you feel safer. You were safe though, safer than you had been in months. It was just going to take a while to get used to that off-putting feeling of security. You laid awake with your eyes open, staring in the dark at the cracked window that was causing the noises.

You squinted at it, wondering who had left it open and why you'd let yourself get so startled by something as silly as wind blowing through an open window once again. Staring at it wouldn't make it close though and you pulled yourself out of bed to shut it. The moment you brought the window down the noises stopped, leaving the room almost unsettlingly quiet.

You turned around then, spurred on by the silence to face the bed again, searching the cream colored sheets for any sign of Ellie. Your heart beat could be felt through your whole body then. She couldn't have gone far, only an hour ago you were laying side-by-side, sharing body heat and exhales.

"Ellie?" You said into the empty room. It was dark but you knew the layout of your farmhouse well enough to get to where you were going.

You creaked the door open, looking down the short hall to the bathroom. It was slightly open, enough for you to tell no one was inside. You continued out, heading to Ellie's dedicated art room. You'd found her here pretty late in the night a few times before. It happened especially when she was far away in her head. She would lose track of time while hyper focused on her art. Most of the time you let her just until you felt yourself getting tired, then you would finally interrupt to take her to bed with you. You would stroke her hair as she fell asleep, staring at her peaceful face in the darkness. It worried you sometimes, how quiet she got.

Walking in you were met with many versions of your own face. Some pinned in place on the wall and some leaning against it, stapled to canvas. She loved to paint and draw you, it was a love language of sorts and you grew to appreciate it more than anything else. You couldn't imagine a more pure

deceleration of love than to create art in another's image. You felt butterflies every time you thought of her admiring you in that way, so intimately. The room was messy with miscellaneous items, strewn all over the floor and collected in crates with no obvious organization. it had been like this since you found the place, she never took the time to sort through all of her things, and put them where they should be. Still, you never took it upon yourself to touch anything in that room. it was her safe place and you wanted to keep it that way.

The next place to check was downstairs. As you traveled down, felt the air grow colder. You shivered at feeling the coolness on your bare legs and arms, it made you want to hurry back to bed. Not without Ellie though.

"Ellie?" You called out louder than you had before, stepping into the dining room.

Ellie's plate was still there from dinner. She always forgot to clean up after herself but you didn't mind doing it for her. after all that time, you both spent surviving it felt good to live. To have dirty dishes and laundry to be annoyed and not wounds that required stitches and left deep scars. You grabbed the plate and brought it to the sink, placing it as quietly as you could. You were starting to get nervous now. Your chest feeling tight as you wandered. She had to be here. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to either of you while you were here, she promised you that.

The living room was left. It was your favorite part of the house so far. You'd put so much effort into decorating it. Putting things together as nicely as you could like you'd seen in magazines from before. Ellie thought it was a bit silly how much effort you put into getting everything together but in the end she was able to appreciate it too, mostly because it made you happy. She loved seeing you happy.

A sigh of relief passed through you when you saw her. It felt like something heavy had been lifted off of you and you were endlessly grateful.

"What are you doing in here? I was looking for you." You told her. She was standing near the window with her back to you. Her short hair still a little messy from being in bed. When you were close enough you reached up to run a hand through it which caused her to flinch away from your touched. Shocked, you took a step back, your lips parted in confusion.

"Ellie, look at me." You said to her softly. You gave her about half a second before your hands were on her shoulder, pulling her to turn and face you.

When you did your saw how wet her face was by the moonlight pouring in. Her cheeks were reddened and her eyes glossy and darkened like a pond at night. You could tell she'd cried, hard, even if she hadn't noticed it herself. Aside from that you noticed the distraught look in her eyes as she looked at you. More accurately, looked straight past you.

"Come sit with me, okay?" You said to her, grabbing a trembling hand to guide her over to the couch with you. She let out a shaky breath, almost getting a word out but failing miserably. You rubbed your thumb over her knuckles to let her know that it was okay. That she didn't have to say or do anything.

"Just breathe for me, I'm here, you're safe." You reminded her. Her eyebrows were still drawn together tightly as she looked down at her hands, they were still trembling quite a bit and just the sight of them seemed to upset her. All you could think to do was grab them in your own to keep them steady. She was warm to the touch.

You wondered what was on her mind then, what she remembered that pained her so much. You probably couldn't even begin to understand. You let her rest her head against your chest when she was able to. You brought a gentle hand to hold her there, stroking over her hair soothingly as she let her tears fall silently without trying to stop them. She had seen things that changed her, things she wouldn't tell you about because she didn't think you needed to know. You never pried, only listening when she needed you to. She had done things that she hated herself for and sometimes you feared that you'd never know why. You weren't scared of Ellie, not once had you ever been in all your years of knowing her, but you were starting to think that maybe she was scared of herself. She knew that the destruction that she was capable of left no room for forgiveness. Still, even with all that she dragged herself through, nothing compared to what she was forced to be witness to.

It was always worse each time she had to feel it all over again.

It made her whole body ache and grow numb all at the same time. A sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach that stopped her from being able to breathe correctly. She'd cry out for someone to save her, for anyone to take those memories back so she could finally relax after all this time but no one could. Her fists would never unclench and the heavy metal chains of revenge were unmerciful and stronger than she could ever hope to be. Her redemption would never come as long as she was like this, no matter how much she laid awake at night hoping to move on from what she's done, she still lusted for the same brutality that broke her down into what she was now.

She listened to you hum to her and whisper sweet words. As she tried to slow her own breathing down, she followed the lead of yours. Calm and steady.

"You're okay, we're okay." You told her. She tried her hardest to believe you. Focusing on your voice and the delicate feeling of her hands on her, she melted down into something more manageable. In and out became less of a challenge and more of a natural bodily function. She slid her hands under your shirt, resting there just to feel the rise and fall. With her eyes closed there was finally darkness and nothing else.

୨♡୧

"I'm sorry I'm a mess." Ellie finally said when she felt like a person again. The sun was rising now. You almost didn't respond, you hadn't heard her speak actual words in hours. The bright feeling you got just from hearing her voice broke you out of whatever haze you were in.

"You're my mess." You said looking down at her fondly. Her eyes were so sincere as they gazed into yours. Like your souls were touching somehow. You couldn't imagine feeling like this with anyone else. Ellie was strong. The strongest person that you had ever known, but she was still human, fragile under her exterior. When it slipped you always wanted to be there for her.

"We're gonna be okay soon." You promised her, placing an innocent kiss to her freckled cheek. She sat impossibly close to you, your skin starting sweat against hers but you both couldn't care less. It felt right.

She wasn't sure yet how soon "soon" would be, and neither were you. All that she hoped was that she'd last that long with her rage sitting dormant.

[cowgurrrl]

A plea for tenderness

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: bitch something came over me I have no idea what just happened also thank you to @pedges for helping me work out this plot idea I owe you my life

Summary: Things with you and Joel finally come to a head [7.3k]

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, one bed trope, brief period talk, stress, implied anxiety, yearning, miscommunication, my first time writing smut 🤠 (please be nice), dirty talk. fingering, p in v stuff, Joel being a shit head, sub Joel if you squint really hard

"You've got to be fucking kiddin' me," Joel says as he turns on the hotel light. 

It's been a long day. You were due to arrive in New York City this morning, but a thunderstorm delayed your flight. Then canceled it. You maneuvered phone calls between airlines and your managers to get things sorted out. You were also getting recognized in the airport, and it turns out that a line of people wanting to take pictures with you was a security issue. You were trying to be nice and take the time to talk to everyone but with the turn the day had taken, you were overwhelmed and on the verge of tears. Joel and TSA agents had to be the ones to turn people away and move to a more secure location. By the time you landed in New York, it was dark, and you were both exhausted. All you wanted to do was shower, lay in bed, and sleep for as long as possible. You have to be up early in the morning for a press junket, and Joel has meetings all day before you two have to go out for a date night. So, when you walk into your hotel room and see only one bed, it feels like the cherry on top of your entire day. 

"Did Melanie book this room, or did you?" He asks, and you give him an annoyed look.

"You really think I would book us a room with only one bed?"

"Guess not," he sighs. You abandon your suitcases by the door and flop on the bed while Joel settles on the couch. You cover your eyes and take a deep breath. It's quiet, or at least as quiet as New York City can get. Your body aches from traveling, and all the stress it took to get here, and this situation is not helping. As far as the whole world knows, you and Joel can't get enough of each other. He can't just go downstairs to the front desk and ask for another room because he doesn't want to sleep in the same bed as his fake girlfriend. "What are we gonna do?" He asks like he's reading your mind, and you sit up to look at him.

His hair is sticking out every which way, and his shirt is wrinkled from falling asleep on the plane. He looks exhausted, and you can practically see the defeat weighing on his shoulders. Behind the fatigue in his eyes, you can see something heavier. He almost seems guilty. Guilty for putting you in this situation or guilty for not being able to do anything to fix it. You don't know. Your fingers twitch to reach out for him, but you curl them around the blanket instead.

"We're gonna take showers and get ready for tomorrow. That's about all we can do." You say, and he nods. You grab your suitcase and pull out all the toiletries and clothes you need for bed. Joel lingers on the couch, his hands tapping a rhythm into the cushions. You make a couple trips to the bathroom to get all your stuff set up, and when you come back out to grab your folded pajamas, Joel stands.

"I can sleep on the couch. If it'll make you more comfortable." He says, and a piece of you melts at how nervous he looks. You leave your clothes on the bed and walk over, covering his wringing hands with your own.

"You know that if you do that, your back will literally never recover, right?" You ask, and he chuckles. The air feels instantly lighter at the sound, and you smile. "Sleeping in the same bed for a few nights won't kill us. It's not ideal, but we can be adults about this. We'll build a pillow wall and everything if we really need to." 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," you say. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't, and you suddenly become aware of just how close you two are. You can smell his cologne, and you're holding his big hands in yours, and it doesn't feel awkward or wrong. It actually feels nice. His thumb brushes against your skin softly, looking down at your joined hands as he traces a line into your skin. You slowly release his hand and step back. "I'm gonna take a shower." 

He doesn't say anything as you gather your things and walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You look up at the ceiling and let out a shaky breath as you try to calm yourself down. You can barely hold his hand without feeling like your skin is on fire. How are you supposed to sleep in the same bed as him? He looked so relieved when you told him it was okay. You can't take it back now. You sigh and turn the shower on, hoping the water will wash away the stress from the day.

You try to avoid thoughts of your schedule for tomorrow and hum so you can't hear Joel's voice through the walls as you scrub your body. He's on the phone with someone, speaking in a gentle tone you've only ever heard him use when he's checking on you. It's the same tone he used to comfort you after the charity event and the one he used to apologize for the hotel room. You shake your head and turn off the shower, anxious to keep yourself busy so your mind doesn't wander. You take the time to brush and floss your teeth, go through your skincare routine, and nervously tear your nailbeds apart. You're surprised Joel didn't bang on the bathroom door for you to hurry up.

When you walk out of the bathroom in a shirt two sizes too big and a pair of bike shorts, Joel is hanging up some nice-looking shirts that will probably need to be ironed in the morning because of how wrinkly they are. He smiles softly as you carry the clothes you wore today back to your suitcase. Joel's bag is sitting open on the bed, and your eyes catch on familiar packages sitting on top of his stuff.

"Is there a reason you keep pads and tampons in your carry-on?" You ask, peering into his bag as you brush your hair. 

"They're for my daughters, snoopy." He says, closing the closet door and leaning against it like it's too hard for him to stand upright. You silently curse his stupid fucking Lakers shirt for stretching against the muscles in his arms.

"Oh," you say. How could you forget that the man kissing you against walls and sending you flowers is also a father?

"Oh,"

"How old are they?"

"Sarah is eighteen, and Ellie is fourteen."

"Wow." You gape. It's an involuntary response, and you want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth. Joel raises his eyebrows at you as he moves from his spot.

"What?" 

"Nothing. I thought they'd be younger."

"Are you about to shame me for being old?" He asks. He has a playful look in his eyes as he steps closer to you, and you flip your wet hair over your shoulder.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Miller. I just know that other people in the industry have kids later in life. Robert Downey Jr. was forty-seven when his first kid was born." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"Well, that's definitely not me. I was a couple months away from turning twenty-three when Sarah was born."

"That's crazy. So, you were, what? About twenty-six when Ellie was born?" 

"I guess it would've been right around there, yeah." 

"What are they like?" You ask. 

"Well, Sarah's smart as hell. Gave me a run for my money when she was younger cause she'd have to teach me how to help with her math homework. She's also sweet and gentle. Wouldn't hurt a fly, and if she did, she'd probably cry about it for a month," he says, his eyes lighting up as he talks about her. You smile as you imagine a much younger Joel sitting at the kitchen table with a little kid, cursing under his breath about fractions. "Now, Ellie... Ellie is quick. Just as smart as Sarah, but she's a little more extroverted. She's never met a stranger and is probably the funniest damn kid alive, but if you tell her I said that, I'll never forgive you."

"And they get along?"

"For the most part. They're still sisters, y'know? They have little fights and whatnot, but they love each other."

"Sounds like you hit the jackpot." You say, and he smiles.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and scrolls through his photos, turning it around when he finds what he's looking for. He shows you a picture of two girls sitting on a nice-looking couch with guitars in their laps. One has long, dark, coily hair pulled from her face, and Joel's crooked smile tugs at her lips. Her legs are long and crossed in front of her, and a butterfly necklace hangs from her neck. The other is shorter, with cropped, wavy brown hair covered with a baseball hat and silver rings adorning her fingers. She looks focused, a familiar line creasing her forehead as she strums the guitar. He points to the girls and identifies them as Sarah and Ellie, respectively.

"They're beautiful." 

"Thank you," he says, suddenly shy. He tucks his phone into his pocket and looks down at you. "They, uh... they asked about you when I was just talkin' to 'em."

"Really?" You ask, and he nods.

"Asked when I was gonna bring you around. They think bein' an actor is way cooler than bein' a singer."

"I mean, obviously." 

"Maybe I shouldn't introduce you three. I have a feelin' you guys are gonna create a mini army against me."

"They sound like headstrong girls. I doubt they need me to start an army." You say, and you both laugh. 

"Would you... wanna meet them one day?" He asks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you fight with your brain. Part of you wants to smile and jump up and down at the idea that he trusts you enough to introduce you to his daughters, but the other part wants to cry because this isn't real. But meeting his daughters wasn't in the contract. Neither was sending you flowers or offering to sleep on the couch.

"Yeah. One day." You say. He smiles and nods. The deep brown of his eyes twinkles as a slight blush rises to his cheeks. 

"Okay." He says as he turns from you to pull some clothes and toiletries from his bag, that smile never leaving his lips even when he leaves the room to get in the shower. You find yourself smiling, too, as you climb under the covers and mindlessly scroll through your phone. He doesn't take as long as you did, but he's still in there for a good few minutes before he walks out in a bleached Foo Fighters t-shirt and black sweatpants. You subtly watch him put his things away and get ready for bed, his back muscles entrancing you when he turns to plug his phone in. 

He lingers on the other side of the bed, nervous and unsure, making you laugh. You pull the blankets out from their tightly tucked corners and pat the spot for Joel to lie down. He pauses for another second before climbing into bed next to you. He smells like lavender and aftershave, and his hair is damp as he rests his head on the pillow. You put your phone away and reach over to turn off the light on your side of the bed so you can each get some sleep, but he doesn't move. You look at him over your shoulder when the light on the other side doesn't flicker off.

"You're sure this is okay?" He asks.

"As long as you stay on your side, Miller," you joke, but he doesn't so much as crack a smile. You sigh and lie down so you're face-to-face with him. "This isn't your fault. This is just one bump in the road. There's no reason to let it ruin our whole trip, okay?" You ask. He takes a deep breath through his nose, the gears in his mind working loudly before he nods.

"Okay." He says. He stares at you for another beat before reaching over and turning off his lamp, casting the room in total darkness. He lies so his back faces you, and you feel his body relax into the mattress. Surrounded by the city's sounds and Joel's breathing, your mind rests for the first time all day. Crooked smiles, gentle hands, and butterfly necklaces invade your dreams, and, for once, you don't bat them away.

A distant car's honk stirs you from sleep. You can hear birds chirping and subways screeching as the city slowly wakes up around you. Your muscles still ache from your long day of travel the day before, but you're comfortable and warm. The early morning sun shines on your face, and you grimace, burying your face into your soft pillow. But, when you move, a firm body moves with you, and you freeze, suddenly wide awake. 

Your eyes blink open, and you find yourself curled against Joel's chest, his Foo Fighters shirt close enough for you to make out individual bleach spots. Your hand is curled between your face and his chest, and you can feel how the air comes and goes from his strong lungs. One of his hands rests on the back of your head like he's cradling you, and the other is wrapped around your waist. You're totally enveloped in his warmth and his smell. 

How the fuck did this happen? When you fell asleep, he wasn't even facing you. Did this happen while you were sleeping, and if so, who reached for who first? You want to spiral. You want a reason. You want to find a way to wiggle away from him to protect yourself, but he's so comfortable, and you haven't slept that soundly in years. 

You slowly move so you can look up at him. His face is relaxed as soft snores leave him, and his damp hair has dried into the most perfect fluffy head of curls. That worried line he gets between his brows when thinking hard is nothing more than a wrinkle when he's like this. He's beautiful. Carefully, you take your hand from his chest and reach out to trace the line with your thumb. He doesn't stir or jump at your touch. You swear, he unconsciously leans into it.

Your fingers move across his face in quiet reverence. You trace his eyebrows, the curve of his nose, the dip of his cupid's bow, and his jawline with soft fingertips. It feels like you're memorizing his features lest he disappear right before your eyes. It feels like you're begging yourself to never forget how his hair falls over his forehead or how the scar under his jaw curves upward just so. It feels, for once, like you're not worried about what happens in the next five minutes because he's right here, and you need to count every single freckle before you can do anything else. 

He inhales suddenly, and you feel him start to stretch before he feels you. Your hand rests on his cleanly shaven jaw as he opens his eyes, at least four different emotions playing out behind them when he realizes what happened. Golden rays of sunshine filter through the curtains, making him look like someone's version of an ancient god. He opens his mouth to start to say something, but you lean in to kiss him before he can. 

His lips are soft and tentative against yours before his mind catches up with his body. Then, his hold on you tightens, pulling your body flush to his, and he kisses you like his life depends on it. You bury your hands in his hair as his hands come to your jaw to deepen the kiss. There's a little teeth and tongue as his arms rest on either side of your head, caging you in. It feels like he's everywhere and nowhere all at once. You need more. You squeeze his shoulders when he kisses a line from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, gasping when his teeth scrape against your skin enough to send electricity down your spine. He soothes the barely there pain with a soft kiss, taking his time to taste your skin. 

"Joel," you breathe. He kisses the shaky incantation of his name away as his warm hands slide under your shirt and skate up your ribs. Your back arches, and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for any kind of contact. His thumb barely brushes against the swell of your breasts when the grating default iPhone alarm sounds. You both jump and startle out of the moment. His hands leave you, and he shuffles to smash the off button. You do your best to get your heart rate down as he sits on the edge of his side of the bed with his back to you. It's dead silent, and for a minute, you think maybe it was all a dream, but your lips are still buzzing, and the skin he kissed and nipped and licked stings with the reminder that he was just right there.

"It's seven o'clock." He says, his voice cracking over the syllables, and you nod at the ceiling. He stands and moves to his suitcase to pull out some clothes, actively avoiding your eyes. When he disappears into the bathroom, you cover your face with a pillow and hope a meteor will rattle through the atmosphere and burn you from the earth because that would be easier to understand than whatever the fuck that was.

You're sitting on the couch with two hosts of the Today Show, a pretty pink dress flowing around you as you listen to them talk up your most recent project to go to theatres, but you're not all there. In the background of their questions and the hot lights beating down on you, you're going through every single movement that led to Joel Miller kissing the life out of you this morning. You're stuck on the minutes just before seven am when nothing mattered more than his body against yours. He left the hotel room without a goodbye while you were washing your face, and you won't see him until later tonight. So, you're stuck tracing the shape of Joel's nose into the hem of your dress like it's the answer to an important question on a final exam. 

"This movie has already sparked many beautiful conversations online about families and growing up. What can you tell us about what you took away from this film?" Hoda asks. You start something about how coming of age is scary, but you were really grateful to get to do this project. You praise the girl who played your younger sister and how well she portrayed that experience. You were going to say something about another costar or the director or something, but it all flutters out of your head when you think about Joel's hands on you. This is fucking pathetic, you think.

"I'm so sorry, I forgot what I was gonna say," you laugh the way they taught you to— good-naturedly and honestly but not too loud. Nobody likes a loud woman.

"That's alright. I think we all know where your mind is right now." Jenna, the other host, chimes in, and you raise your eyebrows. 

"You do?" You ask, a little nervous that they know something you don't. They both hum and nod.

"Does it have anything to do with coming into New York with a certain singer on your arm?" Jenna asks, and you feel yourself relax. You laugh and run your hands through your hair as you nod.

"You caught me."

"How is Joel?"

"He's great. I'm sure he'd be here with me today if he didn't have work. I'm just happy our schedules finally lined up for once."

"Now, we know he is famously very private, but what can you tell us about your relationship? How did you meet? What's it been like to date one of the most famous rockstars in the world?" Hoda asks, her chin in her hand as she stares at you. You smile and fidget with a ring on your index finger.

"Well, you're right about him being very private, so I don't want to give away too much because I kinda like having our little secrets too, but I'm really happy. It's been a little bit of a learning curve for both of us, but we've found something that works."

"That's it?! C'mon, you've gotta give us a little more!" Jenna exclaims, and you laugh, throwing your hands up.

"I'm not one to kiss and tell!"

"I guess we'll have to get Joel in here one of these days."

"Oh, good luck with that. His ability to dodge questions like the plague is one of my favorite things about him." You say as a picture of you and Joel kissing on the charity red carpet appears on the screen. You can't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks, but you try playing it off as smiling too much.

"Look at you two! You really are a great couple, and we wish you both the best." 

"Thank you so much." You say. They dive back into promoting your newest movie before cutting to commercials. You give them both big hugs and thank them again before being whisked off to do more press. 

You spend the rest of your day answering the same four questions over and over again with your costars by your side. They make it a little easier to get through the day, especially when they tell embarrassing stories from set or play stupid games with you. You're able to take your mind off of Joel for a few hours when you're with them. You make plans to color-coordinate on the red carpet for the premiere because you guys play a family, and that's what families do. Lilly, the girl who plays your younger sister, asks your opinion on dresses and how to tell her stylist that she's hated almost every outfit he's put her in. You give her as much advice as possible and ignore the thought in the back of your head that you would've killed to have someone provide you with advice like this when you first started.

The day goes by faster than expected, and you're back in the hotel room before you know it. Except Joel isn't there when you walk in. Instead, there's a bag on the bed with his handwriting scrawled on a note beside it. Wear this tonight. I'll meet you at dinner -JM, under his initials, is the address of the restaurant where you're supposed to have dinner. You furrow your brows in confusion as you pull a little black dress out of the bag. It's your size, which you have no idea how he found out, but you're pleasantly surprised when it fits. The hem of the dress hits an inch or two above your knees, and the collar is lined with pearls. It's gorgeous and feels expensive as it clings to your body. You pair it with a pair of black heels before doing your hair and makeup.

It's not super common for people in the industry to still do their own hair and makeup, but you love it. You like the time and energy it takes to get yourself ready. There's something meditative about it, which you could use if you're going to make it through dinner. You take some inspiration from Pamela Anderson's makeup looks from the nineties when the public deemed her The Rockstar's Girlfriend. While Tommy Lee is a piece of shit, and Joel is nowhere near like that, you still like the aesthetic. When you step back from the mirror to take in your complete look, power and confidence surge through your veins. You grab your little black purse from the counter and saunter to the lobby.

Paparazzi snap your pictures leaving the hotel and getting into the car Joel sent for you, but you're not annoyed at it for once. You look good. The world should see it. You text Joel that you're on your way, the only communication you've had with him since this morning. You decide that the thing that makes this kiss feel so different and jarring from the others is that it wasn't for the cameras or the press. It was just for you two. You were alone in the privacy of your own bed, and you kissed him because you wanted to, not because you had to sell a story. But he kissed you back. He did more than kiss you back. You sigh as the car rolls to a stop, and the back door opens. Joel stands there in a tight-fitting black button-up shirt and nice slacks, holding his hand out to you. You take it and smile as he helps you out of the car, kissing your cheek once you're in view of the photographers on the sidewalk. 

"You look beautiful," he says, so only you can hear it, and you squeeze his hand. He escorts you into the restaurant, and you two are given a table in the back. It's all too similar to your first-ever date when you were ready to punch him and break a legally binding contract. You order drinks and mess with your earrings as you think of what to say.

"How was your day?" You figure is as good a place to start as any. He raises his eyebrows at you, and you just stare at him like you don't know what he's waiting for.

"It was fine. Got a lot of work done," he says. "What about you?"

"I did a lot of interviews. Got asked about you a whole bunch." You say as the waiter brings your drinks over. You thank him and watch him scurry away before Joel takes a big sip of his beer. 

"What'd you say?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I told them how deliriously happy we are," you say. He grinds his teeth and hums as he takes in your words. You drink your drinks silently until the waiter comes by to take your food orders. Joel must sense lingering eyes at the same time you do because he takes your hand and rubs affectionate circles into your skin. You reach out with your other hand to move his hair out of his eyes and mumble something about him needing a haircut. He hums but doesn't take his eyes off you. You vaguely recognize the look behind the irises and shake your head. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" 

"Like you didn't leave the second you got the chance this morning," finally tumbles from your lips. You expect him to get annoyed or frustrated, but he doesn't. 

"I had to." He says.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I, obviously, don't."

"If I didn't leave when I did this morning, neither of us would've made it out of the room for the rest of the day." He says like it's common knowledge. You take a deep breath and lean forward.

"I don't believe you." You say. He shrugs, grabs your martini glass from in front of you, and takes a sip. You give him a look, and he smirks. This doesn't feel like a serious conversation anymore. This feels like a game.

"You think too much."

"Oh, is that what it is?" You ask, and he hums, handing you your drink back. You sigh and take a big swig. "You're infuriating." You mumble into the glass. He scoots his chair closer to the table and copies you, leaning forward until he's right in your face. 

"Then, why'd you kiss me this morning?" He asks, his breath fanning across your neck as he tilts his head. His voice is low and curious, if not the tiniest bit smug. 

"Lapse of judgment."

"That right?"

"Mhm," you hum. "Don't think I'd do it again unless I had to."

"Wanna hear what I think?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyways."

"I think you're lyin'. You know exactly why you kissed me this morning."

"Yeah? Enlighten me, then." You challenge.

"I think you kissed me because you wanted to, and you never act on the things you want 'cause of that perfectly polished Hollywood attitude. And sure, you smile all pretty and keep yourself quiet, but I know you need an excuse to let that all go."

"And what? You're that excuse?"

"If that's what you want me to be," he says, moving so his mouth is right by your ear. "When's the last time someone properly fucked you, huh? Because I barely touched you this morning, and you sounded like you were gonna cry. Joel," he copies the way you said his name this morning, all breathy and desperate. His words shoot straight to your core, and the restaurant is suddenly too hot. You dig your nails into his hand, but he doesn't flinch. No, he has the audacity to fucking laugh. "I bet if I reached under that little dress, you'd just be drippin' for me." Approaching footsteps pull him and that dirty mouth away from you as Joel smiles at the waiter like he didn't just say all that to you. Your food is set down on the table in front of you, but you're not hungry anymore. Joel just stares at you with a shit-eating grin. You down the rest of your martini and clear your throat as you pick up your fork.

"I'm going to fucking kill you." You say quietly, and he chuckles.

"Do your worst, darlin'." 

It could be the ache between your legs or the agonizingly slow way Joel eats his dinner, but it feels like you're at the restaurant for hours before Joel finally gets the bill. What's worse is the New York City traffic you get stuck in on your way back to the hotel. You're about ready to get out of the car and just walk the rest of the way. Joel seems to think this entire thing is hilarious because he chuckles and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your skin. "Relax," he whispers, and your jaw clenches as you look at him. Cars honk at each other, and people yell loudly, distracting the driver enough for you to kiss his neck. Your hand rests on the other side of his neck, keeping him in place as you lick at the hollow of his throat. His grip tightens on your thigh when your hand travels down his chest, your fingers working to undo the top few buttons. Your nails lightly scrape over his chest, and a low groan rumbles through him, making you smirk.

"Where'd you go, baby? You were talking such big shit back at the restaurant. I thought you'd be able to handle a little teasing," he swallows hard, and you reach down to palm him through his slacks. He bites back a desperate noise and claws at your wrist to stop your movements. "Gonna cry for me, Miller?" You ask. The car stops in front of the hotel, and he sighs as he looks between you and the tent in his pants.

"Ready to run?" He questions. Before you can even ask him what he means, he grabs your hand, opens the car door, and basically sprints into the hotel, dodging paparazzi and doormen, making you laugh the whole way in. You keep running until you reach the elevators, both of you reaching to punch the button at the same time. You laugh, still breathless from the running and the complete 180 the situation took. Joel shakes his head, fighting a smile, as you giggle deliriously. "There's so much wrong with you."

"Me?! You're the one who made me run into the hotel lobby like a crazy person!" You say as the elevator door opens. He hums as he pushes you through the doors with his body, his lips ghosting over yours when he reaches to press the button for your floor. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him when you start moving. His hands rest on your waist, and he pushes you until your back hits the wall of the elevator, his finger tugging at the fabric of your dress. When the doors open, Joel grabs your hand again, and you two run down the hallway like kids until you screech to a halt in front of your door. 

Joel pats his pockets feverously as he searches for the room key, making you laugh. You lean in and work on the buttons of his shirt while he fishes for it, his Adam's apple bobbing when you kiss his sternum. The hotel key card shakes in Joel's hand, and he curses under his breath as he scans it again, desperately trying to make it turn green. The second it does, he pulls you into the room with him, pushing you against the door and kissing you roughly. His knee finds its way between your legs, pressing into your core in the most delicious way. You moan and reach for his belt bucket, your nails barely grazing his hard cock, making him hiss before gathering your wrists in one of his hands and bringing them above your head. "If y'do that, 'm not gonna last long enough to feel you," he says, his voice hot in your ear. You whine as he kisses down your neck, leaving love bites on any piece of skin he can reach. 

You grind your hips against his thigh, and you should be embarrassed by the sounds leaving you, but you don't have the mental capacity. Not when you feel this good. Joel releases your hands to push the hem of your dress up, up, up until he can get a full view of the black lace covering you. "Fuckin' Christ," Joel groans. He wastes no time pushing the fabric aside and sliding through your folds a second later. You let out a choked moan and lean your head against the door as he collects your wetness on his fingers. "All this for me, pretty girl?" He asks.

"Ah, Joel," you whine when he makes a pass at your clit, your fingernails digging into his shoulder. Your hips move against him, desperately searching for more friction. 

"I got you. 'S okay. I'm gonna take care of you, okay? Are you gonna let me take care of you, baby?" His voice is whiny in a way you've never heard before, making you dizzy. His middle finger teases your entrance, and you clench around nothing. "Need to hear you say it."

"Please, I need you," you sound desperate, your breath heaving from you as you stand there, almost shaking with anticipation. He doesn't move, and you feel like you're going crazy. "Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, please. I need you inside me." The second the words leave your mouth, he presses two fingers into you, sliding right to the knuckle in one motion. You moan loudly and drop your head to his shoulder as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. You remember hearing once that guitarists have the best hands out of everyone else in the music world. You always thought it was a joke, but now that you're here with Joel's fingers buried deep inside you and his thumb pressing on your clit, you're inclined to agree. His long, rough fingers reach spots deep inside you that you can't reach yourself, and when they curl just so, stars explode across your vision. His name leaves your lips like a broken prayer as he moves his fingers faster.

"You're so fuckin' pretty like this. Takin' my fingers so well," he's babbling in your ear, which you should've expected based on everything you know about him, but his voice is intoxicating. You pick your head up off his shoulder and keen against him, your hips pushing into his hand. He takes the opportunity to kiss you roughly, all teeth and tongue, as the sound of his fingers moving against you makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. "You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Gonna let me feel it?" He asks, ducking his head to mouth at your neck. He adds more pressure to your clit, a little mean about it, and you gasp, clawing at his shoulders as your vision goes white. Your walls pulse around his fingers, and sounds you didn't even know you were capable of leave your chest, but he doesn't stop, desperate to pull every bit of pleasure out of you. 

You pull the hair at the nape of his neck and beg him to stop, your breath catching in your throat when he thrusts into you again before pulling out. Without missing a beat, he pops his index and middle finger into his mouth, sucking every drop of your arousal from them. The look in his eyes is dark and completely blissed out as his tongue peeks from between his fingers. That is enough to send a zing down your spine, reigniting the fire in your stomach, and you hastily undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders. He steps backward, and you follow him until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he falls on top of it. You step back to take in the sight of world-famous, untouchable, tattooed, badass rockstar Joel Miller laid out in front of you, hard as a rock against his slacks and completely at your mercy. 

You reach behind your back and unzip your dress, letting the fabric and your underwear pool at your feet. You kick off your heels before crawling on top of him, his big hands immediately splaying across your waist as he sits up to kiss at the swell of your breast. Your hands pull at his hair when he takes one in his mouth, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you see stars. "Fuck, you're so good at that," you moan, looking down to see him staring at you. He releases your breast with a soft pop before moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. You don't know what atrocities you suffered in a past life to deserve someone like him taking so much time with you, putting his own orgasm aside to pleasure you, but you’ll take it. "Kiss me, please." You beg. He quickly obliges and takes the opportunity to flip your positions so he's on top of you.

You reach down to undo his belt buckle and push his slacks and underwear down his ass in one fell swoop. He moans against your lips when you take him in your hand, twisting your wrist just enough to make him thrust into your fist. He's panting as he presses his forehead against yours, and a sick part of your brain thinks about teasing him.

"I don't have," he breathes, deflating slightly against you. "I don't have a condom. I didn't think this was gonna happen." 

"I'm on birth control, and I'm good if you're good." You say, and he nods.

"I'm clear," he swallows hard, obviously using every iota of his brain to stay focused. "Are you... are you sure?" He asks. You don't say anything. You just guide him forward and take a sharp inhale as he slowly pushes into you. He's an incoherent babbling mess and buries his face in your neck once he's fully seated inside you. The stretch is painful for a second before it blossoms into a white-hot pleasure at the base of your spine. 

"Joel,"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to move," you say. He moves back slowly, and you feel every inch of him before his hips thrust forward. He sets a dizzying pace— slow and languid at first but quickly shifting to rough and frantic. Your nails rake down his warm back, leaving red scratches on his skin as he fucks you. He's bordering on whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, and you gasp when his thumb grazes your clit. "You sound so pretty when you're fucking me. I can't believe I've gone this long without having your cock inside me. You feel so fucking good." You mumble in his ear, and he keens at your praise, something you store in your mind for later. 

You open your mouth to say something more, but he draws tight circles around your clit, making your pussy clench around him, and the thought flies from your brain. It takes one more hard thrust to push you over the edge, stealing the breath from your lungs and clinging to Joel like he's the last lifeboat in a storm. Joel curses and presses bruises into your hips as he comes inside you, the feeling of it stealing the breath from your lungs. 

His movements still, and his cock rests inside you as you both slowly float back down to earth. Joel presses sweet kisses to your jaw, your cheeks, your forehead, and your nose before finally kissing your lips. He tastes like you and the martini he stole earlier. You take in a shaky breath, not realizing that you hadn't been breathing, and ground yourself in the feeling of his sweaty body against yours. You trace patterns into his back, and he hums at the feeling, making you smile. You stay like that for a few minutes before he finally gets the courage to carefully slip out of you and run to the bathroom to get something to clean you up. He kisses you when you whine at the sensitivity and even tosses a water bottle from the mini bar on the bed, calling for you to drink it as he finishes up in the bathroom. He's gentle in how he cares for you, way more gentle than any other person had been with you. 

When he comes back out, naked as the day he was born, you smile and make grabby hands at him. He doesn't hesitate to climb back into bed with you and unapologetically wrap you in his arms. You rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, occasionally pressing kissing to the crown of your head or your temple. Then, just like the whole reason this started, you fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and wanted for the first time in years.

[kabie-whump]

Oh! You're willing to take whump writing requests? 👀

If so... could you write a Whumpee and Caretaker getting into a bad argument, and Whumpee storms out, only to be kidnapped and not heard from ever since? And Caretaker feels SO GUILTY to the point they blamed themself for arguing with Whumpee over something so trivial? It's okay if not, but ever since reading your bandit story, I would love to see more stuff from you, especially if you're up to writinf my favorite tropes! :O

-- @whumperofworlds

Yeah absolutely I'll write that and I'm gonna make it Onthyes and Ventis :)

~~~

Onthyes hands Shayah Ventis's journal when she opens the door. "Can you give this to Ventis, please?" he asks. "He left it at my place."

Shayah takes the journal slowly, her brow furrowing. "He's not here, blondie. I thought he was with you."

"What?"

Ventis doesn't have a place of his own so he's constantly bouncing between Onthyes's and Shayah's respective homes on a whim. If he isn't with Onthyes he can always expect to find him at Shayah's.

So where is he?

"He left mine late last night. I thought he was coming here."

"You didn't go with him? You escort him everywhere."

Onthyes feels his palms start to sweat, his heart racing. He never lets Ventis go out alone, especially late at night. The genasi bitches at him about it all the time but Onthyes always insists, knowing that Ventis is a bright sparkly beautiful target for lowlifes of all kinds. Even now that he's finally gaining control over his magic Onthyes has never left him out on his own.

But last night, when Ventis had stormed out with a literal cloud thundering over his head, Onthyes hadn't followed. He'd said he wanted space, and for the first time Onthyes had given it to him.

Shit.

"We had an argument," Onthyes admits. "He didn't want me to go with him."

"That's never stopped you before."

"I know!"

Shayah's eyebrows climb higher on her face at Onthyes's raised voice. She steps inside, grabbing her cloak and her bag, and then joins Onthyes outside and locks the door behind herself.

"Come on," she says. "We're gonna find him. If we're lucky he's just shacked up with some handsome stranger and he'll be on one of our doorsteps soon."

That would not be lucky at all for Onthyes. The idea makes him feel sick. Even if Ventis doesn't offically belong to him the thought of him going out and finding someone else to sleep with feels so so wrong.

They comb through all of Ventis’s favorite places: the library, the tavern, the market by the harbor, all to no avail. They even wander by a dingy little nightspill den just in case the fight had been bad enough for him to relapse but luckily they don’t see him there either.

By the time night comes Onthyes is in a state of panic. He can’t decide which possibility is worse: that Ventis decided he never wants to see him again or that something happened to him.

Oh gods, what if something happened to him?

What if someone grabbed him off the street? What if his withdrawl-induced hallucinations returned and he wandered off, chasing shadows into the middle of nowhere?

(Click here to travel to an alternate timeline!)

A week goes by. Onthyes doesn’t rest. He becomes obsessed with searching for any sign of Ventis, but every passing day of finding nothing brings him closer to the verge of insanity. Shayah has to force him to eat and rest on multiple occasions.

One one such night, Onthyes dissolves into exhausted, guilty tears on Shayah's couch.

"It was such a small thing," he chokes out, hugging a throw pillow to his chest. "He'd met some new friends and he liked them but I thought they seemed like trouble and I was scared that he'd relapse if he wasn't careful with who he saw. You know how hard it was to get him sober the first time so I really didn't want any of us to have to go through that again but he took it as me not trusting his judgement-"

"To be fair, we shouldn't trust his judgement."

"But you know that's a cruel thing to say. Especially to him. Especially when he's just started being able to trust his own mind again."

Shayah sighs, tipping her head back and blowing out smoke from her pipe. "I know, blondie. I know."

Onthyes scrubs the tears from his eyes. Moping around isn't going to help him find Ventis, but Shayah has forbidden him from going out searching again tonight.

"It's all my fault," he whisperes. "I felt hurt cause he didn't appreciate that I really just want to keep him safe. But I should've followed him anyway."

"He'll turn up."

And he does turn up that same night in the form of an exhausted and bloodied body collapsing against Shayah's door in the dead of night, the sound rousing Onthyes from his fitful sleep on the couch.

~~~

Might continue this later :)

Ventisposting taglist: @scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump

[froggibus]

hi! may i request junkerqueen with a s/o who is overworked and kinda anxious about it? need some comfort lol

Overworked! Reader - Kiriko, Junkerqueen & Widowmaker

Genre: fluff + comfort

CW: Widow being inept when it comes to emotions, Hanzo Appearance, Junkerqueen trying her best, very self indulgent tbh

i was weirdly excited to write this + there is *someone* else I know who ALSO tends to overwork themselves and not get enough sleep >~> so maybe if she sees this she’ll cave lol

————

Junkerqueen 

whether it’s for school or work or something else, she doesn’t understand why you’re pushing yourself so hard

you’re such an amazing person!! what more do you have to prove?

she notices the signs a little late tbh but doesn’t want to stress you even more by having a serious conversation 

so she leaves you be 

it isn’t until she notices you constantly shaking your legs/hands and pacing that she feels the need to step in 

“y’alright baby? you seem…stressed.”

you try to reassure her that you’re just so close to finishing this project

but of course you’ve been saying that for the past week

just because you keep taking on more and more work cause you’re scared to say no

“you’re gonna work yourself to death like this, hon.”

she backs off for a bit and you think you can get it done

until she comes back and drapes a blanket around your shoulders and kneels down in front of you

she’s so huge she’s eye level

holds a cup of water to your lips and makes you drink

“you’re taking a break, okay? let’s go take a bath.”

you don’t really get a choice cause it’s come willingly or she will drag you to the bathtub 

rubs your hair and asks you to tell her what you’re thinking as a way to organise your thoughts and settle your anxiety

catches the warning signs way earlier next time and stops it before it gets worse

Kiriko

kiriko herself probably takes on way more work than she can possibly handle for herself 

but that’s ok cause what she’s really worried about is you

when you’re constantly tense and hunched over one document or the next, just trying to memorise everything you need for midterms 

you KNOW all of the material too but you’re so worried you’re gonna forget it all

Kiriko just watches you with a sigh, wondering if she should intervene 

probably asks another chronic overworker (Hanzo) for advice 

comes home one day with all your favourite stuff 

comes up behind you while you’re studying and hugs you tightly 

kissing your neck and rubbing your shoulders 

“let’s take a break baby, okay? i got you ice cream”

literally pries you away from your work and brings you to the couch

brings over all the snacks and drinks she got and starts your favorite movie 

lays on the couch with you on top of her, tugging at your hair and rubbing your back

 Widow

she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to so it’s confusing to her when you’re taking on a bunch of extra work 

“i can’t let them down!”

you’re trying to be calm but she notices the way you’re constantly on the verge of tears 

probably really frustrated on your behalf too

goes and  threatens talks to whoever is forcing all of this extra work on you

when you come home with a lighter work load you’re happier but still anxious, wondering if they’re giving you less cause they’re going to get rid of you

so now she’s confused over your anxiety 

before bed one night and wraps you up in her arms and wraps her legs around you too

it’s weird but the pressure is nice???

“what are you doing”

“your heart is racing, chérie.”

she holds you tightly until you’re relaxed enough to fall asleep 

ponders how she can make you feel better tomorrow morning

masterlist

[pinkandpurple360]

Interesting thread on the HB reddit atm: https://www.reddit.com/r/HelluvaBoss/comments/1cgml0f/who_do_you_think_should_apologize_first/

More comments are for Blitz but there are some saying Stolas and being dead on that the Full Moon deal was wrong on his part

Special mention goes to this comment down the bottom though:

Who should apologize first? Jimmy The Orphan Leg Eater, or Jeffrey, the legless orphan?

It's sad that given this is the HB fandom I can't even tell who they're trying to refer to here.

A commenter also left a list of things Blitzo should apologize for which I think are interesting (genuinely interesting, not being sarcastic)

for breaking in to steal the book -> fair

tricking Stolas into sex for the book -> kinda fair? does gives Stolas a lot of leeway for being the one who initially made it sexual with the whole 'ravish me' comment and it's also slightly inaccurate: Blitzo fully intended to leave without sleeping with Stolas at all, it was just pity that made him go back. His plan wasn't specifically 'sleep with Stolas for the book' it was 'do what I need to do to steal the book & leave'

not correcting Stolas that sex isn't all he wants -> I don't think this is something Blitzo needs to apologize for. He has currently no reason to think Stolas wants more than sex (I'm not counting lazy retconning of offscreen 'how was your day?' phonecalls added in to make Stolas look better), so correcting this would just jeopardize his business. If Stolas can't stop himself sexualizing Blitzo while he's on the verge of a panic attack it's understandable Blitzo would elect to keep things as they are

using him at Ozzie's to spy on M&M -> fair, though I judge this way less harshly than The Circus: since it happens after the full moon deal Blitzo probably thinks everything with Stolas can work on transactional terms since it's all he seems to want (i.e. if he helps me get into the club, I'll reward him with sex later - which Blitzo probably would have done if he hadn't been dressed down in front of the entire club)

and never responding to him at the hospital -> he did send a courtesy text; a response or visit would've been nice but I don't think he's under obligation to do so. He and Stolas are not dating; they barely feel like friends most of the time. If Stolas wanted Blitz to engage with him outside of sex he could have taken that step himself long before now (again, not counting retconned offscreen phonecalls)

boiling this down, though, we basically have: theft, one night stand, inviting on a date under false pretences (though he never used the word date), not comforting him at the hospital

worthy of an apology? sure.

equal to 'use the fact Blitzo is getting shot at to extort monthly sex so he can keep his business running?' hard no (and that's without adding in the season's worth of demeaning and disrespect Stolas gets up to, including literally calling Blitz a 'little plaything')

.

[boredwrites]

Anna and r have a mother daughter relationship, and after r has a bad trial Anna comforts her and r calls Anna mom for the first time without knowing she did! I wanna see what Anna will do

The Huntress Familial Headcanons

Anna the Huntress x fem!reader

Pls this is actually so cute 😭 thank you for the request!

Warnings: Not proofread, none

Masterlist

Last trial was a nightmare. Literally. It seemed that Freddy was in the mood to cause more chaos than usual. He first tunneled Feng and then went onto you. He camped you and you were on the verge of dying until David came to your rescue (some to your dismay, you were looking forward to ending this trial.)

Back at the survivor’s camp, you were left feeling tired. From constantly being put to sleep or the physically tiring trial, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you needed some comfort. Not from any of the survivors, no. But from one of the killers.

Anna. You needed Anna. You felt comfortable in her presence. The first trial she had with you, she hesitated to lay a finger on you. She saw how scared and tired you were. It reminded her of the little girls she wanted to take care of so badly back home. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt you. You noticed and formed a bond with the Russian woman.

She called you мой ребенок, whatever that meant. There was a big language barrier, but that didn’t stop the killer from having a soft spot for you. She loved you. And as time went on, you loved her more and more. And that’s what formed the bond. Not the typical romantic bond, no. You saw Anna as a caretaker, as a mother. And she saw you as someone who needed her care, a daughter. Her baby.

One night, she caught you out in the woods outside of the camp alone. You looked so hurt, so she took you to her realm. She didn’t give you a choice. She could see she scared you but she quickly proved she only meant well when she offered you food she caught and cooked herself. That same night she offered you a bath, which you agreed with a smile. A bath was what you needed, badly.

Since that night, you were always welcome in her realm. You always stopped by when you had a rough trial or needed some maternal company, or when you just wanted to say hi.

Tonight, though, you didn’t just want her comfort and company. You needed it. You needed her. The mother you never had.

You came up with an excuse to leave the camp before making your way to Anna’s realm. It was cold and wet and the rain never stopped. But it somehow comforted you to know that this realm was Anna’s and you were welcome any time. You could smell the unforgettable smell of Anna’s cooking coming from her cabin.

It was like Anna had this sixth sense. She always knew when you were going to stop by. Before you could knock on the door, she opened it wide. Whenever she was in the safety and privacy of her own realm, she had no need for her mask. She had it hung up above the mantel.

The scars on her face each told a story. But she still smiles through them, happy to see your face. But it faltered when she saw how tired and sore you were from the previous trial. Again with the sixth sense, she always knew when there was something wrong. She welcomed you in with open arms.

She had you sit down on her couch as she insisted she feed you the meal she cooked, even though she knew quite well you could take care of yourself. But tonight, she knew you needed to be taken care of. You thought it was silly whenever she treated you like her baby, but you knew better than to question the Russian mountain of a woman.

It wasn't until after a much needed bath and sweet dessert when Anna questioned you in her mother language. Of course, you didn't know exactly what she was saying, but you had a hunch. You told her about the trial and everything that went wrong. Anna didn't understand exactly what you were saying, but she listened anyway.

She continued to take care of you and pampered you until you thanked her. You thought she wouldn't understand. You called her your mother, thinking she wouldn't understand. But the word in English and Russian is similar. She knew.

"мать?" Anna asked, her head tilted to the side. She wasn't angry or upset. She was curious, and maybe even a little happy and proud of herself. Maybe a little too proud.

Before you knew it, you were in her arms, having your breath nearly squeezed out of you by how hard she hugged. A chaste kiss was planted on your head as she pulled away and looked into your eyes, her hand cradling your face as she looked at you with a loving expression.

"Мой ребенок," said Anna. "Мой сладкий, сладкий ребенок."

Of course you had no idea what she said, but you took it as a good sign.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Sweet dreams

Note: I was informed that it's Father's Day today, so I decided to write something short n' sweet for our local underappreciated dad. I love how we collectively as a fandom decided that Dante will only have a baby girl and baby girl only, period. At this point, it feels like I'm writing mostly for @cerezzzita.

Edit: I'm putting a lil tag for @rodeoxqueen as well, I have feeling she'll enjoy this

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

There weren't many things in Dante Sparda's life that could shock him.

Strangers bursting quite literally through the walls of his home? Welcome to his life.

Getting pierced by a massive sword? Thursday.

A literal hole in space and reality appearing at the nearest pizza joint? Verge won't even notice Yamato missing.

But he still, for the life of him could not get used to a little goblin that now resided within the halls of Devil May Cry with him. So it's to a little surprise that the jaded demon slayer almost had a heart attack when he opened his eyes in the middle of the night and there was a small person draped in white fabrics, hair covering almost the entirety of their face as they stood above him and wordlessly stared at him.

His daughter watched him squirm hopelessly in the blanket like an overgrown trapped worm, waiting for her dada to get to his senses already.

"H-hey angel. Can't sleep?"

Just now, once his eyes got used to the darkness, Dante noticed the trembling of her small frame, She clutched her plushie even closer to her in a desperate attempt to silence a little sob that pushed it's way through her small lips.

"Bad dreams?" He whispered softly. His answer was a small nod.

Dante felt his heart squeeze in his chest, a different kind from before. He used to have nightmares all the time when he was little. Always whimpering in his small bed until Eva came to calm him down. Even when he got older, he still had nightmares, but this time no one came to comfort him. That is, until...

He felt you wriggle next to him with a quiet moan. He turned to your sleeping face. Dante quickly fixed your blanket, then turned to his daughter with one finger pressed to his lips as a silent sign to be quiet so as to not wake you up and picked her up into his arms.

Her bedroom was a pastel kingdom filled with fluff and soft lights and blankets. Despite carrying potent demonic genes, his daughter was always of a different sort. Quieter, softer, more delicate. Even when he held her as a small bundle in his arms in the hospital, she didn't let out a single sound. Just stared up at him with those big eyes. She was very shy and meek. She got overwhelmed very easily and always had to have a safe spot to calm down. She always wanted to be surrounded by soft textures and tempered lightning. Dante didn't always understand his little girl, but he did his hardest in making sure she was safe. That's what he knew the best, technically, making sure people were safe. So that's what he did.

He laid her down on the bed, crawling inside beside her which was quite a strenuous task. Both because of the small size of the bed compared to his huge frame, and his small fists clutching the front of his shirt.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" Dante smiled at her.

She shook her head violently, choosing to bury her face into his shirt instead.

His little princess always did her hardest not to cry. Face scrunched up, cheeks red, eyes overflowing with tears, small palms balled up in fists. Because she's daddy's strong little girl.

"It's not weird to cry," Dante continued, wrapping his arms around her.

"Or weak, we all do it. It's normal. It's just something your body does to make others know you need help, and that's why we're here."

At this point, he wasn't sure if he was talking to his little girl or himself, but it seemed it worked because the front of his shirt was wet with tears and snot.

"Yeah, that's it. Make sure you wipe it aaaallll off." He put his hand on the back of her head and gently shook her small head to mess with her.

She let out muffled giggles and finally looked at up him with a watery smile. His breath hitched. She looked so much like you when she smiled. Dante was happy that usually aggressive Sparda genes were finally challenged and instead of those icy blues, his daughter had the same eye color as you, complete with wispy white eyelashes. She was perfect.

"Now," Dante wriggled in the bed trying to make himself more comfortable. At least as a full-grown man can be comfortable in a bed made for eight-year-olds, "We're gonna have us some nice dreams. Say, whaddya wanna dream about."

The squirt, looked at the ceiling reflecting the little night lamp on her nightstand. After what Dante assumed was serious consideration his daughter whispered, "Fruit loops."

They both buried in countless pillows filling the bed. She clutched the plushie close to her with the same protectiveness Dante clutched her small frame to his.

With the last small kiss on her head, he whispered to her.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

[fivveweeks]

hi its me it's verdante angst anon (angstnon? idk) again

shaking ur hand SHAKING UR HAND you get me you get me you fuciigndnsn get me

"They're a tragedy, the both of them. Dante's fine with that. (They have to be, they have no choice in this) Given enough time a tragedy turns into a comedy. Maybe they'll be able to laugh about this in the end. Maybe it'll even be divine."

you don't undertsysnds how feral i am about these two. i am firm staunch zealous believer in verg not seeing himself being worthy of like anything good not until he has payed for his sins or wtvr he wants that to mean. i think he exercises a lot of self control to make sure he has like an arm and a leg and several bodies worth of space between him and anyone trying to get close to him (xcept Charon ofc). actively turns and runs from that shit bc 1. he doesn't deserve it. 2. he literally does not have the time for that shit

dnate on the other hand— chronic workaholic, to the point they can and will push personal feelings aside for the sake of their job. if u look up the word professionalism you WILL see Dante Limbus Company as a synonym. they keep their feelings in check (under several locks and keys) in the back of their mind aging like fine wine. they're aware they're not a choice and they're okay with it. it's their fault anyway, they're such a silly little fool.

it has always been doomed from the start. do you understand? it has always been hopeless. it was never meant to be.

dante knew/knows/accepts this, they do not have a choice. (but then again when do they ever?)

ANON YOU'RE SO FUCKING INSANE I NEED TO TWIRL U AROUND LIKE HOLY SHIT U GET IT!!!

YOU HAVE NO IDEA how much of a firm believer i am about Dante being a chronic workaholic. NOBODY FUCKING TALKS ABOUT IT YET BUT literally i do not think they need to sleep/they cannot sleep/gets little to no sleep at all and instead spends all their time up night reviewing battle plans and rewatching past battles on their little PDA. its a combination of anxiety and wanting to step up as a better manager (if we take into account of limbus players dissecting the gameplay meta of EGOs and ids we can literally translate that into Dante pouring over how to better manage the sinners). god forbid them from stepping out of line due to personal feelings bc they a) do not want to piss off vergilius and risk his wrath b) do not want to piss off vergilius bc they respect him (and like him) as a coworker, a boss, a color fixer and their guide too much. they are the EPITOME of professionalism. their work and responsibilities as a manager COMES FIRST

Vergilius too, you put it into words on him as a person. Literally he doesnt think he deserves it AND he doesnt have the time for that shit (for real verg in canon seems to really hate ppl wasting his time over trivial shit). i think even theres some distance between him and charon but he mostly crosses the space bc he's too guilt bound to deny charon some form of connection (bc it is his fault in the first place), so he is soft to her and her only.

it's like watching two parallel lines running along each other and no matter how close they get they will NEVER touch ever. ISNT THAT A TRAGEDY???

but its not all angst, they at least find a little light in the situation. verg would come to appreciate how dante respects him and his circumstances and would be pleased that they are like-minded enough to keep things professional between them, so he is comfortable in confiding in dante on certain topics (in canto 2 where verg and dante stands together by the side to watch the sinners get their ass peeled and verg telling dante why they should experience it for once lives rent free in my head bc he actually bothered to explain to dante wauhgshfh). he admits that dante is the only sinner that he can have a convo with. he fucking told dante to not befriend him after sharing a little history on charon. dante would appreciate the little moments they get to spend with him

just brief pockets of time with each other, despite everything. i like to think they are both the kind of ppl who would accept that things are just not meant to be, so they will take what little they can (what little they're allowed).

in the grand scheme of lcb and the city they are both nothing but a pair of pawns trying to make the best of their situation without getting in the way. they have no choice.

and to come across another who understands this is a rare, rare gem in their crapsack world, so how can we blame them for having a little bit of pining among the acceptance. mutual respect blooming into requited love that is unable to be acted upon. a divine comedy in its own right. im going to kms

[twopoppies]

I saw someone on twitter ask a good question but no one answer and was wondering if you could shine some light because you are very intelligent with these things! If the beards shine such bad light on H&L especially Olivia and Louis re having F with a one night stand, why don’t they just leave them single?? People still speculate they’re together when they’re in ‘relationships’ so why not protect their images??

Hi love. Well, the answer is actually different for both of them, IMO. I think it’s been proven over the years that having a “good” image is less important to Harry’s label, than having an image which gets everyone talking about him. Debating about whether he’s queerbaiting or queer or a home wrecker or a slag or on drugs or super regimented and healthy etc etc etc keeps people talking. The idea that Harry sleeps with literally every person he sees, has fueled tabloids for more than a decade. That means people are talking about him, paying attention, know who he is etc.

He was actually publicly single for a long time between Camille and Olivia. Holivia is clearly different from any of his beards before because it’s become about so much more than just showing that he dates women—whether all of that was intentional, or because of Olivia’s machinations, is unclear. But if it wasn’t working on some level, I think they’d find a way to end it sooner, rather than later.

Louis’ situation is just entirely different. He’s had a beard for so many years as a way to just take him out of the game. He was initially “taken”, a stay at home guy who likes to hang out with his girlfriend. Meanwhile Harry was shown jet setting around with celebrities and being linked to all sorts of fabulous women. Obviously they’re not gay and definitely not dating. Right?

Then Eleanor was dumped and a bevy of women were used to set up the “party boy Louis” image so the idea that Louis would get a random girl pregnant would make sense. But the way they made Louis a womanizer was so different than with Harry—for Louis it was just night after night of clubbing and leaving with random girls (often more than one, all nameless “unimportant” women). It wasn’t to make him look like a rock star. It was to make him look like someone who was on the verge of being out of control. Then babygate landed. This time it seems to have been designed to humiliate him, punish him, and drag him down.

With Louis, the efforts to make him look straight always seem more to do with hurting him and separating him from Harry. With Harry, it seems more about making him look desirable and someone to talk about. Whatever the reasons are, it’s gross and dehumanizing and I fucking hate that it’s still happening.

[simpliao]

ultimately ; (irl) schaltt x reader

summary : schaltt reminisces upon a lost love

info : based off of the song with the same name by khai dreams, prepare for angst, swearing, and reader with she/her pronouns,

a/n : i'm new to tumblr, but i thought my profile was kinda bland and needed a post or something. hopefully you enjoy my attempt at an angst one-shot !

Ultimately: what would be inevitable when the story comes to its final phrase, its end. Schlatt was sure he knew what was his inevitable: marrying the girl he loved. The woman that he'd held for so many nights, cuddling with stupid ass movies serving the couple as background noise whilst the orange tabby laid close by. Just standing where it all used to happen, from when in the early morning she'd force him awake to eat breakfast, to the late evenings where the light of their electronics highlighted the pair's features. Eyes half lidded, like phantoms inhabiting his home, he could still see her figure glowing from the morning light, or bent over laughing like the idiot he loved and adored.

He had to tear his eyes away from his own home, what used to be shared between the two: their home. Her belongings long since swept off the shelves, the lack of dust showing the outlines of where her touch was present. The apartment being in a suffocating silence, a lack of her presence was painfully apparent. Jambo, as brainless as he was, could feel the change and was reduced to mopping around the entrance; waiting for his mom to come home.

But she wouldn't ever be coming back.

Running a hand through mousy, caramel coloured locks, all he could do was let a heavy sigh leave his throat; attempt to keep up his tough guy persona and not let the welling tears fall beyond the brim of his eyes. How would Jambo cope with not having the mother he'd known since adoption? Hell, how would Schlatt cope not having her to be his backbone? The central supporting beam of his whole damn life?

He didn't know, and he didn't know when, or if, he ever would.

Just seeing his little man sit in front of the door, eyes droopy like he was on the verge of sleep but continuing to fight it; not daring to blink and miss her. Dejected mewls escaped him, as if a last ditch plea for Y/n to come back home. He just couldn't take seeing him in such a state, retreating to their once shared office space. The bedroom was too much for him to enter at the minute. Waking up to her side of the bed less sunken in every morning, with her scent slowly disappearing and the cool chill nevermore holding her warmth. The lack of her items that he once chastised for how childish or cute stupid they were; he missed. He missed her and the ungodly amount of stuffed animals that all had their own names and backstories.

The lack of her made the apartment they once bitched and complained about for how small it was seem so impossibly large. The space she took up, literally and figuratively, made him realize that without her left an inconceivable void; one that he was grasping at straws to fill. Just pushing the door open to their shared office/study space made his blood run cold. The desk that rested at the other side of the room horribly bare as if she was never there.

Solemnly, he took a seat in his chair, letting himself sink into it; no clear idea of what to do next in his mind. He couldn't work, no, not when he was like this. Neither was he in the mood to cheer himself up, for the next foreseeable future it seemed as if he would be stuck.

But one day we'll be okay.

Her voice of reassurance pierced through his mind, a reminder she made sure to instil before they parted ways. It repeated and echoed off the corners of his mind, she was so sure as she spoke with those doe eyes glossy with tears. He loved those eyes. And he loved the way she'd always assure him, comfort him through his darkest hours and be the light that lead him through. The light, with its solace and warmth, would be there no matter how far down he fell from grace; or so he thought.

The universe worked in funny ways, notably how he always managed to get the short end of every stick. It was why he supposed he hated his clean shaven face. It reminded him that underneath whatever he may use to mask who he was: he would forever be that frightened teenage boy. The past was something he refused to ever dwell on, but now, possibly suffering the worst blow of his entire life? He couldn't help but feel the suffocation of bad luck. Maybe he was never destined to be truly happy, and that's why despite the both of them completing each other in all the best ways; it was the case of the right person, wrong time.

She was always dedicated to her schooling, he was anxious at the idea of commitment; their relationship didn't work for what they wanted in the minute. She was ready to settle down with him and the thought genuinely scared him. He was barely mid-twenties, he wanted to go out and have his fun but she was too busy to do that kind of thing; neither was she really into it. Her constant studying and strive to her passion made him feel second, never being her number one priority. Despite what he lets on, Schlatt is a soul that suffered from those kind of insecurities. He was too needy for her to handle, and when he let her have her space all it did was leave him feeling unwanted.

The decision to end it was mutual between both parties, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Regardless of how badly his chest constricted and yearned, no, begged for him to call her up, he knew better. It would only make letting go harder, at least for now, it wasn't meant to be. The wandering thought of if he ever meant the same to her crossed his mind, was she hurting as much as he was?

Yet still, he was sunken in the same old chair he always had been, tears having fallen without his knowledge or consent. He was never favoured by fate, and regardless he still silently prayed to whatever force out there that they'd have a second chance when the time would be right. He'd get whatever it was he needed to out of his system, and despite how selfish, wished that she'd be single and ready when he'd be. That they could pick up where it was once left off. Where he could have his larger frame wrap around her and once again be able to call her 'mine'.

But until that time should come, if ever, he'd be condemned to be alone... Again.

Just how it's always been.

[acefms]

if you’re hearing LOSER by BECK playing, you have to know ACE MILLER (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 31 year old ANIMATOR has been in denver for, like, FIVE YEARS. they’re known to be quite AVOIDANT , but being AMIABLE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble DREW STARKEY. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those LATE NIGHT DRIVES TO NOWHERE, SMUDGED INK AND PAINT SPLATTERS, WEARING SUNGLASSES INSIDE TO HIDE A HANGOVER, NEVER WALKING PAST A DOG WITHOUT SAYING HI vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!

NAME: ace miller AGE: thirty-one and oh so dumb ... HOMETOWN: philadelphia, pennsylvania BIRTHDAY: october 19th ZODIAC: libra GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUALITY: bi bi bi ( slight male lean ) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single OCCUPATION: animator for tv shows/comics/movies — is currently working on his own comic (name tbd)

[ tw: gambling, addiction, abandonment, depression. ]

• Ace grew up in south Philadelphia with his mother and father until the age of seven, when after years of a toxic relationship his father left and never came back. Ace struggled with the abandonment throughout his life, but was lucky enough to have his grandfather who was more of a parent to him than anyone else could ever be. Through his grandfather he discovered his love and talent for art, and began to use it as his form of escapism. It was his saving grace during his turbulent teenage years. He would definitely derailed had it not been for art and the worlds he made in the comfort of his room.

• His mother was loving in her own way during his childhood, but was always driven by materialistic possessions that she couldn’t afford. Her job as bartender just wouldn’t cut it, and she began to gamble. But after a few wins, she found herself hooked on the feeling and soon developed an addiction that grew out of control. Ace had to take on two jobs before he was finished with high school just to help pay off her debts which left him drained to the point that he struggled to keep up. He sank into deep depression and found it hard to get out.

• Despite this, she continued to try and live lavishly behind his back while he was on the verge of a mental breakdown due to how many things he had to juggle at once. By the time he graduated high school, he’d grown to resent her completely and she continued to put her addiction, and boyfriends, above him. They have no relationship at this present time and he has no current desire to ever see her again.

• Leaving for college ( which his grandfather had paid for ), he gained a dual-degree in graphic design and animation and built his way up in the business, taking a good few hits before finally landing his dream job working in film and tv, online content as well as comics. He genuinely loves his job and it’s probably the one aspect of his life he’s completely happy with. He is very creative and has several little worlds inside his head.

• He travelled for years, moving at least every six months before finally settling in Denver in attempt to build some kind of solid life, but so far the only part he’s got right is raising a a crazy pup named charlie and gaining a lifelong best friend in the form of his roommate theodore.

HEADCANNONS

• he never sleeps before 2am and never wakes before 10am. he will literally be acting like it’s the middle of the day in the middle of the night.

• he’s a terrible cook. he can heat things up and make basic stuff, but overall he’s kinda hopeless. someone help him.

• he drinks way too much coffee, and too often occasionally too much whiskey and beer. randomly likes to get high a few times a month if he needs a little help falling asleep. will be seen with sunglasses on constantly to hide who zombie-like/hungover he is.

• before he realized his mothers addiction he would often take trips with her as a young boy to vegas or places alike ( most of, but not all, his time was spent waiting for her in hotel rooms ) so he’s actually really decent at playing poker because she taught him how to play. but ace hates to gamble.

• during his time travelling he’s spent a lot of time sleeping in his car ( when he wasn’t abroad ) and he actually really enjoys the outdoors. likes to hike with his pup. also is likely to end up with a million dogs.

• he has a small ace of spades tattoo on the inside of his middle finger on his left hand -- he got it as a dare when he was drunk at seventeen. he hates it, but he’ll never get rid of it. he also has a fingers crossed tattoo on his right forearm, and a melting smiley face on his right index finger. more tbh he has at least ten. random tattoo supremacy. i'll add more when i can think.

• aside from his cartoons, he also loves to paint, sketch, play around with pottery and just get as creative as possible with anything artistic whatsoever. it's his safe space, his own form of therapy in a way. though he doesn’t let many people see the results as somehow they feel a lot more personal than his cartoon/animation work.

POSSIBLE / WANTED CONNECTIONS

roommate/ best friend -- taken by theodore cohen.

past flings/hook-ups -- ashamed to say there's been many. ace struggles with emotional vulnerability and absolutely runs from things.

childhood friends -- god forbid anyone knew him when he was openly sad, haha. jokes to disguise emotional damage for the win.

people who don't like him -- he's annoying, it's so likely.

party pals -- you're his favourite people.

a cousin ? aunt, uncle -- there will probably be some tension as his family is a mess, but this could be fun to play out.

idk he's an idiot give me everything.