#oh my god am I going to write the fuck out of this until old maniel appears

[reireichu]

parasite.

Armand watching Daniel move on. Armand watching Daniel live a life, without him.

children fucking ruin everything.

chapter i: paris is for lovers and heartbreak.

Aka I wrote this post and then apparently I might be writing a fic about.

[arjwrites]

Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.

Warnings: Language, character death, thoughts of suicide, references to sex, threats... A good mix of fluff and angst! Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This one was a labor of love! I have a few other fics in the works as per a few requests I have received, but this one was speaking to me tonight, so I sat down to write it! Please enjoy- in the meantime, your requests are coming soon! <3

-

“Dean Winchester, I could just KILL you!” 

You were extremely familiar with the Winchester boys’ prank wars by now. You had been witness to a few different cycles of this behavior over the many years you had known them- in fact, if someone were to dig through the old cardboard box you kept hidden in the spare room at Bobby’s, they’d probably find a few faded teenage pictures of a bald Sam after Dean snuck Nair into his shampoo, or a sleeping Dean with some sharpie-d enhancements adorning his face. But up until now, you had always kept to the sidelines. Time and time again, you claimed Switzerland to avoid their shenanigans, because it always got way too out of hand.

But today, when you climbed out of bed, still groggy with sleep, stepping into the bathroom of your shared motel room, an entire bucket’s worth of ice water that had been balanced atop the door came crashing down on you. The sensation sent a shockwave through your whole body, and from the noise that escaped your lips, you would’ve thought you had been shot. And to add insult to injury, the bucket itself smacked against your head on its way down. 

So to start your day, you were soaking wet, freezing, pissed off, and nursing a swelling bump atop your head. A blind rage filled your body. You knew it had to have been Dean, it was his turn to retaliate after Sam had messed with the stereo in the Impala so that it only played Barbie Girl. It had been a long, silent ride home after last night’s hunt. 

“Dean Winchester, you are a dead man!” The words came bursting out of you as you stormed your way out of the bathroom.

“What did I- Oh my GOD. That wasn’t for you.” Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. He knew he had fucked up. 

The first thing to go flying across the room was the bucket, which nailed Dean in the chest with an anticlimactic thud. You followed close behind it. At full speed, you sprinted into Dean, knocking him back onto the bed behind him.

“Get off me! You’re soaking wet!” Dean protested, throwing his arms between you two in an effort to shield himself. 

“Yeah, how do you like it?” You weren’t going to back down. 

So that is how you ended up wrestling with Dean. You put up a surprisingly good fight for a lot longer than you expected, able to overpower him via sheer force of will. Once Dean got his bearings, though, he flipped you over, hovering on top of you and pinning you to the bed by your wrists. You held an intense eye contact for a brief moment while you each caught your breath. In doing so, you came to the mutual realization that this was ridiculous. You didn’t know who cracked the smile first, but as Dean’s grew, so did yours, until you were grinning like idiots and erupting into laughter.

“You know, this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you wet and in my bed,” Dean raised his eyebrows and tossed you a sly wink.

“Yup, I’m doing it. I am killing you.” 

-

“Dean I swear to God, if you keep me cooped up in this motel room for one more minute I am going to lose my mind.” 

“Would you relax? Sam and I are almost back at the witch’s house. We’ll gank her, it’ll reverse the spell, you’ll be right as rain.”

“God I hope so. This is driving me up the wall. I will never watch another second of daytime TV after this.” With the press of a button, you hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the bed. This was getting seriously old.

While taking on a vengeful spirit case, you and the Winchesters had run into a particularly pesky witch. Long story short, she cast a spell at you, and none of you could figure out what it was. It was driving you crazy, and what was driving you crazier was that the boys had locked you in the motel room for two days while they tracked the witch back down. All around town, all over the area, until they finally caught her trail heading back to her own house. Where they had started.

The problem was, you felt fine. You really didn’t think there was anything wrong with you. You wanted to get out there and help them, do some research, go to the damn grocery store, literally anything. But Sam and Dean had insisted that the safest thing for you to do was to stay behind. We don’t know what she did to you, Y/N. It could be dangerous for you to leave. It’s better if you stay here and do absolutely nothing. It made sense, to an extent, you just weren’t very happy about it. 

After a few hours and several more episodes of the most mind-numbing daytime talk shows you could imagine, you heard the sound of keys jingling and the motel door creeping open. In came Dean, wearing a strange expression on his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought it was fear.

“So? Ding dong, the witch is dead, I don’t have to blow my brains out?” You asked, more than ready to be done with the whole fiasco.

“Um.” Dean was avoiding eye contact. His hands slipped into his pocket and he sucked in a long, sharp breath.

“Dean.” 

“So, uh, maybe…” He slipped a hand across his mouth, stalling his words. “Look, you might have to stick around here for one more day. We uh, think she might be in the town over, but we kind of lost her trail.”

On the car ride back to the motel, Dean had prepared for you to react by yelling, screaming, hitting, anything to unleash the anger he knew was coming. In fact, that was why Sam had waited in the car- to give him a little time to break the news. But in front of Dean was something much, much scarier. Your jaw was clenched, your gaze was distant, and your eyes narrowed. You were just… sitting there. The silence lasted for what felt like ages. It was enough to send the man spiraling. Finally, you looked up.

“Dean?” 

“... Yes?”

“You better kill that witch tomorrow before I kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

- 

Losing Sam had been just about the worst thing that could have ever happened to any of you. Watching him fall to his knees after Jake backstabbed him, Dean cradling him as the life finally slipped from his body… It brought you to tears just thinking about it. You had loved Sam like a little brother. But as much as it tore you up inside, his death had happened. So goes the life of a hunter. It was time to let Sam rest. 

Dean, however, had still refused to make peace with the loss of his brother. It had been several days and Sam’s lifeless body was still laying out on a mattress. Dean just couldn’t let go. You and Bobby had begged him to let you lay Sam to rest, but he simply wasn’t having it. Dean was angry, defensive, and hurt, far deeper than you had ever seen. After conferring privately with each other, you and Bobby figured maybe it would be best to give him a little time alone with Sam, for closure’s sake. 

So a day later when Sam Winchester, live and in the flesh, waltzed into the room to thank you and Bobby for patching up his wound without so much as a second thought, your heart dropped like a rock. The feeling that washed over you was worse than any grief you had felt this past week. Of course, it was amazing to have Sam back- it felt like a miracle. But miracles don’t just happen, especially not to Winchesters. And when you looked to Dean, he refused to meet your eyes.

Not wanting to alert Sam of the situation, you made an excuse to get Dean to follow you outside. You trudged as far as you could in silence, you not daring to look in his direction, until you knew you were out of earshot from the house. 

“What did you do, Dean?” Your back was still turned, and your voice was hardly a whisper. You were surprised Dean could hear you at all.

“Y/N-”

“What did you DO? How long did they give you?” The question ripped from your chest, but you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer. 

“A year.” 

One year. You dropped to the ground. The gravel dug into your skin, but all your senses were numbed with hurt. You wanted to ask what made him think he could do this- to Bobby, to Sammy, to you? But when you opened your mouth to speak, the ache that resonated through your chest stifled the words.

Dean slid down next to you in silence. He wrapped a single arm around you, and you leaned your head into him. All you could do was cry silent, heavy tears. For what felt like hours, there was nothing you could say. The pit in your stomach swirled back and forth from anger to despair to fear, culminating in a blinding nausea. You looked up at Dean, who simply stared straight ahead. There was a staggering coldness in his eyes that drove the knife further into your core.  

“God damn it Dean Winchester, I could just kill you myself, right now.” 

“You’ll have to get in line, sweetheart.” 

-

If you thought a few days without Sam had been bad, four whole months without Dean was your own personal hell. After Dean’s time was up, you couldn’t bear to be around anyone who reminded you of him. You hadn't spoken to Bobby or Sam or any other hunters- any other people, for that matter. You had practically dug yourself a grave, isolated from the world around you, lost and in the dark. 

This was the worst hurt you had ever felt in your life. Four months later and the wound in your heart was just as fresh as the day it arrived there. Every time it began to heal, one wrong move and it started aching, throbbing, bleeding again. But at this point, the pain was all you had left of Dean. So you let it bleed. 

The knock on the motel room door did nothing to stir you from your place in bed. It had been days, maybe a week, since you had risen for anything but your basic needs. You had called the front desk to extend your stay multiple times, running up a scammed credit card Dean had probably given to you at some point. There was nowhere else for you to go, so you laid down weary roots right here. 

The knock persisted but you remained still. It could’ve been the police, the president, or the pope and you couldn’t have cared any less. Go away. There was a clanging noise followed by the shifting of the lock’s mechanisms. Whoever it was, they were breaking into your room. A few months ago, you would’ve jumped into action, but all of your hunter self-preservation instincts were long gone. Whoever it was could come in and take whatever they wanted and shoot you dead in the process. Maybe they’d be doing you a favor. 

You rolled over in bed as the door creaked open, prepared to lay eyes on whoever was here to bring your demise. However, you were met with the one face that could have coaxed you out of the bed. The face you hadn’t seen in four months. The look in his eyes teemed with love and longing, which made your stomach churn. 

“This is a real sick joke.”

“No, Y/N, it’s-” 

For the first time since before Dean’s death, you snapped into hunter-mode, rising to your feet and snatching holy water and a knife from the bag under your bed in the process. It was a little slow, a little clumsy, and clearly a bit out of practice.

“You know, I was about to let whoever you were come right in and kill me. What reason do I have to stick around anymore? But this- this is just sick.” You laughed- your first laugh in months, and yet nothing was funny. 

“It’s me, Y/N, I-”

“No. I’m going to kill you now.” And you lunged, splashing holy water with one hand and thrusting the knife with the other. 

When Dean caught your hand before the knife could strike him, twisting your arm to defend himself from your lackluster attack, it took you longer than it should have to realize that the holy water hadn’t fazed him. Before it registered, you struggled against his grasp, but months of malnutrition and stagnant muscles had left you weak. You cried out as you fought, before fully dissolving into tears and dropping the knife in a mix of defeat and acceptance. Dean placed two heavy hands on your shoulders as if to ground you back in the moment.

“It’s me. I swear.” The beads of holy water that rolled off his face paralleled the tears that rolled off yours. Your hand reached up to wipe a droplet away- partially out of habit, partially to test that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear at your touch. He didn’t. Instead, both his hands planted on your face, matching your movement. 

“Oh, Dean.” That was the only way you could express it. Dean. Here, real, standing in front of you, and not a demon. Just pure Dean. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, and it felt like home. He pulled you into a gentle hug, as if he harbored the same fear as you- that you may disappear beneath his very touch. But you were real, and so was he. You wouldn’t disappear, and neither would he. Dean was back, and because of that, you were back too.

“Good thing you didn’t kill me, right?” 

[drvscarlett]

The Tortured Drivers' Department

— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece

Fortnight

— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)

The Tortured Poets Department 

— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 

— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)

Down Bad

— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)

So Long, London

— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)

But Daddy I Love Him

— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)

Fresh Out the Slammer

— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 

—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)

Guilty as Sin?

—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)

loml

— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 

— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)

The Alchemy

—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)

Clara Bow

— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)

The Black Dog

— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader

imgonnagetyouback

— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)

The Albatross

— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)

How Did It End?

— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)

So High School

—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)

I Hate It Here

—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)

thanK you aIMee

— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)

I Look in People’s Windows

—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)

The Prophecy

—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)

Cassandra

—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)

Peter

— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)

The Bolter

— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)

Robin

— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)

The Manuscript

—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)

[betterthana-six]

| MUSIC TO MY EARS - [ABBY ANDERSON] - CHAPTER THREE |

PAIRINGS: stoic!rugby player abby x musician fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and your new(ish) college roommate, Abby Anderson, have gotten into an argument. about what? unclear at the moment. but it's got Abby in a fit of shame. until late one night she hears you outside with someone whose voice she doesn't recognize and listens in.

WARNINGS: heyooo we are so fucking back! AND LOOKIE AT THAT TAG LIST AHHH THANK YOU FOR THE AMAZING RECEPTION SO FAR!!!! LOVE YOU ALL. im having so much fun writing this and watching this story spiral into absolute chaos. im honestly just trying to see how big i can make this story. much more pining this chapter but ooh girl we are getting sexier as we go, trust the process. mdni DUH. ive been wanting to write a pool scene. abby sure be falling in love. let me know if you guys are liking the structure so far, its pretty predictable. abby is snarkier and snarkier, but im always nervous to stay true to her character. let me know what yall like, and even mid story I am open to suggestions or if youre like that or this part wasnt fully fleshed out, why not let me know? im down. k have fun. bye. ALSO: i have a playlist brewing for this story. comment if you want it and ill post.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Music To My Ears: Chapter 3

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

There are tears drying on your chin when Abby abruptly stands up, pulling you up with her, towel still wrapped over your arms. 

She starts pulling clothes out of the depths of her closet and throwing them onto your bed.

“What are you doing?” You sniffle. 

“Put these on.”

“Your clothes won’t fit me. You have something called muscle mass.”

Abby let out a small snicker. “They’re from when I was, like, sixteen. They’ll fit,” she said.

“I have my own clothes, you know,” You gesture to your side of the room. “They’re actually about five feet away from me.”

“You’ll understand when we get there why I’m giving you my old clothes.”

“Are we hiking?”

“You hush.”

“Oh my god, is it paintball?”

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s paintball. The 24-hour paintball park is awaiting our arrival as we speak. How’d you guess?”

You smirk bashfully. “I’ll only put them on if you tell me what we’re doing.”

She plants herself a foot in front of you and tilts her head down. “You’re no fun.” She shoves one of her rugby sweatshirts into your stomach. “Let’s have fun. Actual fun. Come on, it’s the weekend for fuck’s sake. I just… I know a place.”

You lower the towel like a shawl around your elbows and walk over to your bed, as Abby’s eyes follow you. Seeing her, you jut your jaw out at her, waving your index finger in a circle. Abby's response was a bit delayed, she catches her eyes getting lost on your silhouette again, and struts slowly around to face her side. 

You sigh and put the clothes on. The feeling of warmth from the dry clothes covers your body with a chill and you’re nearly sedated with comfort. While Abby is still turned away, you bring the sleeve of her hoodie up to your nose and smell it as quietly as you could. 

“I’m ready,” you say.

Abby opens the door out to the hallway. Nobody’s out there. It’s nearly 1 am.

You still look both ways nervously, and Abby notes it, but neither of you say anything. She guides you down the hallway, the sound of her keys jangling against her thigh, hanging from the carabiner locked around her belt loop. She is sure to keep you close to her. Each time you sway or stumble a bit, she grabs your wrist and holds you up. Though, of course, you put a hand up every time to insist that you’re fine. 

You are still drunk. It is indeed still obvious. 

Abby turns a corner and halts the journey in front of a vending machine which blares with light in its dark corner. “Hold up, one second,” she says, as she inserts a dollar, some coins from her pocket, presses B7, grabs it from the bottom, takes your hand and puts the candy in it.

“Twix is my favorite,” you say.

“I know,” Abby says.

“You know?”

She hesitates and runs a shy hand over the back of her neck under her long braid. “I see wrappers in our trash sometimes.”

You pause with suspicious eyes. 

Abby gives a small laugh and looks away. “Whatever. Eat.”

You bite and it is as forgiving on your stomach as any midnight candy bar can be, especially after the amount of alcohol it's following.

Now, Abby pulls your hand from three paces ahead of you. She seems restless, happily so, in a way you had rarely seen her. Maybe only once or twice in hindsight.

You are already out the doors of your building and into the cool air of early spring. It is almost completely dark but the moon lights the pale sidewalk visibly enough. Once your eyes fully adjust, you can see Abby. Her braid swings back and forth across her back. 

After a ten minute walk through the main circle of campus, Abby takes one of the keys from her hip and opens the entrance of your school’s gym.

She checks your demeanor, and you meet her with a wide-eyed face that says: what the fuck?

“Just trust me,” she says and grabs your hand again, guiding you through the dark corridors and up the stairs, past the treadmills and weight machines. 

As you approach the top, a blue haze lights Abby’s face and then yours. It’s very quiet up there in the announcer’s box, and it looks down onto the college’s Olympic sized swimming pool. You’d only ever seen it from the doors on the bottom level. You remember the first time. People were splashing about in the water but it didn’t ruin the illusion for you. The smell of chlorine. The warm humidity that threatened its way out onto you. You, who stood firmly in the air conditioned hall, pleasantly zoned out on the swimmers.

Even from behind, Abby seems so eager to fulfill her spontaneous promise of a good time. A small smile grows on her face every now and then. You become very aware of your hand in hers. Hers is gruff and big and warm, her thumb securing around your fingers messily. It’s possible you merely imagine the vibration in the space between your palms. Her touch reignites the bliss of your drunkenness, and, again, you feel light on your feet. 

Abby pulls out a key and inserts it into the keyhole for a discreet door. It leads the two of you down two flights of stairs into a locker room with fresh towels piled up into neat stacks. She throws one at you: “Here.”

“No way,” you say. You realize you were so carried away you only now realized what she had brought you here to do.

“I didn’t bring you here for us not to swim.”

You smile big. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

“I knew it would cheer you up.” Abby laughs. 

“Wait,” you think, “someone’s gonna be here. We’re gonna get kicked out.”

“No, we’re not,” she reassures, “I’m friends with the rec team. I asked for the after hours key so I can workout at night. I guess I just forgot to give them back.”

You look at her a little confused, moreso disbelieving. 

“No, really, I swear. Sometimes it’s nice to de-stress at night. Let off a little steam when no one’s around,” Abby says. You smirk and lift her sweatshirt over your head, revealing the light blue tank top Abby had given you.

“Don’t I know it,” you say under your breath.

“Oh?” Abby says. 

“You think I don’t notice when you don’t come back to the dorm until 5 am?” You say with a cocky tone. 

Then, she, too, pulls her sweater off. She was only wearing a thin bra and boxers. You were surprised she wore anything under it at all, given her track record. You quickly note the way you don’t squirm or turn away. Perhaps it’s just a matter of familiarity - you have been roommates for three months now - or, maybe, it’s the way she’s looking at you in this moment. “You notice?” 

The sudden turn of the question makes you stutter.

“I- I mean, the once or twice it's happened. Obviously.”

Instead of laughing at you this time, Abby just stands and looks at you thoughtfully. Intensely. 

“Whatever. Yeah, that was…” she finally says, shaking her head, with a twinge of something shadowing her tone and preventing her from finishing her sentence.  

The both of you have changed completely into her clothes, the clothes she didn’t think twice about letting you ruin with chlorine. You save her from whatever she didn’t want to say. “You could’ve at least told me to bring a swimsuit…” You say. 

“Yeah, well, it would’ve spoiled the surprise,” Abby says.

At the door leading to the pool, Abby turns back suddenly, stopping before speaking.

“Okay, listen. This is a sacred rite. No one besides me, and now you, has access to this place. No one knows I have the keys, and it needs to stay that way.” 

You nod. “Makes sense.”

“Because this will be really fucking fun.”

“Understood.”

“And, I’m showing it to you because you’re having a shitty, no-good night.”

You hold a salute up to your forehead. “Captain, I won't let you down.”

She rolls her eyes to your delight. “Come on.”

You find her hand in yours again. You can’t help but marvel at how natural it was - not because you are surprised - just because it still sends a shiver running down your spine.

The smell of chlorine washes over you and you breathe deep, closing your eyes and feeling the damp air warming your skin. Abby’s in front of you, hooking her phone up to a wire and resting it on the ledge of the spectator window. The speakers overhead start playing music. 

“Holy shit,” you say, looking at her with amazement and pointing up to the ceiling. The Rolling Stones' “She’s A Rainbow” rings out over the speakers and fills the space completely. A smile creeps onto your face, and once it’s there, it’s stuck. 

“How’d I do?” She asks.

You don’t answer but smile at your feet. You walk past her towards the edge of the concrete, sparing a devilish smirk her way right when your shoulders nearly graze each other. Only the pool lights are on, making the whole place shine with the blue dancing patterns of the water ripples. It reflects onto your face, and, when you look back at Abby, she is staring at you.

“You coming?” You ask. 

And Abby eyes dart away in shock, feeling scandalized and taking what you said entirely out of context. She can’t help it; a semblance of those words have been echoing in her head for the last three months, more or less. Jolting her awake from her dreams. Both sleeping and conscious. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

The first dream happened about three weeks into living together.

Since that conversation in your room on your first night, neither of you tried to initiate conversation deeper than small talk. The explosive end to that night left you reluctant to speak to her at all and left Abby anxious to say the wrong thing. 

It was the beginning of the semester, anyway. Abby had a routine to establish and you were busy finding the right buildings around campus, keeping your head down, and practicing guitar. 

You hadn’t been able to anticipate her comings and goings. Mostly Abby left for her day without saying a word and came back in the same manner. When she returned in the evenings, you quickly traded the guitar on your lap for earphones while Abby read silently only feet away.

"You can keep playing, I don't mind" is the only thing Abby would sometimes say. "No, it's okay. I should probably just use the practice rooms anyway," was your usual response, if you said anything at all.

The first dream happened when Abby took an impromptu nap in the early afternoon while you were out.

Her dreams involved many strange things she could never comprehend and typically forgot soon after she woke. Yet, toward the end of this dream, she saw nothing but your face, eyes softly closed, there between her legs. It was no in-depth scene. No words. No kissing. Just you, licking a line from her knee up the skin of her inner thigh. 

Abby woke up with a gasp. She looked down to find there was wetness between her thighs, and momentarily she couldn’t distinguish what was and wasn’t real. She was almost convinced that you really were somewhere near, that somehow you had been there between her legs just a moment ago. But, the room was empty and the wetness had come from Abby, herself, of course. 

She found her hand was there, too, under her boxers, to meet her body with stiff, soaked fingers.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to make of it, still hypnotized in her exhaustion.

She didn’t think about it. Abby began moving her fingers around in circles, her other hand placed on the top of her head, bottom lip tucked slightly under her front teeth. 

She closed her eyes and, without realizing, tried to prolong the feeling that seemed so real only moments ago. 

You popped into her mind. She quickened her pace.

There was something so indulgent about the image she had. It felt dirty. Naughty ideations of her own roommate was something she knew she’d feel guilty about later, a secret that could never be shared. She didn’t know where it had come from specifically, this need for you, but, honestly, she didn’t even try to interrogate it. She just exhaled hard through her nose as she tried to picture you more vividly. 

“Fuck…” She whispered to herself. The feeling built and built and she gripped onto her blanket, breathing hard. 

Just then, the key to your door started jangling. 

Abby stopped immediately, yanked out of her dream and her tiredness altogether. She pulled up the slightly pulled down pants and sat up. She grabbed the book off her desk, opened it to a random page and pretended to be lost in the story by the time you opened the door and walked inside.

She had startled you. 

“Oh, hey,” you said. 

Abby looked up over the page. “Hey.”

“I forgot I need these for my next class,” you explain while gathering two books from your desk and shoving them into your backpack.

“Hm,” she said, feigning disinterest.

You zipped up and turned to leave. “Alright. See you later,” you said but met Abby’s eyes which were already on you. You turned back. “Are you okay?” You asked.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Oh, nothing, your face is all red.”

Abby just shrugged, at a complete loss for words.

“Okay,” you said without a second thought. “Well, bye.”

“Bye.”

Once you were gone, Abby tossed the book, turned over onto her stomach, and buried her head beneath her pillow. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

The dreams, however, only got worse from there. Abby started waking up from dreams with her hand down her pants more often than not and, by morning, they delivered her a head full of thoughts she could barely acknowledge to herself. Dreams of you sitting in her lap, dreams of her fingers in your mouth, dreams of you panting into her ear. She had visions of what you’d look like astride her hips with a smile on your face. Impossible dreams of you seducing her in huge hot tubs, or at fancy dinners with her hand squeezing tight around your thigh under a tablecloth, a gala where you both get locked in the coat closet with nothing but time to kill. These dreams consumed her until late in the day.

If there was one thing Abby promised herself she wouldn’t do is fall in love with a straight girl. Especially her roommate, who she presumed kind of hated her. This new energy you brought to her made her so vulnerable in the dark hours of the night, she felt she had to release it before she got in too deep. 

So, she tried the gym. She started lifting uncharacteristically heavier. She started lifting until failure, until she had completely obliterated her muscles. Her teammates applauded her for her hard work, if only they knew the real reason for the fire lit under her ass.

It helped some. More like distracted her. But she knew the craving hadn’t fully subsided. It only took an hour for it to re-emerge. Sooner if she saw you walking to class or if you tried to spark conversation in the dorm, which was rare but nonetheless excited Abby when it did happen.

One time when you were both getting ready for bed, you turned to Abby and broke the silence.

“Hey, I was wondering…”

“What’s up?” Abby responded. The eagerness with which she asked was out of her control. 

“I, um, well, do you think you could show me around the gym sometime? I didn’t get to see it when I toured, and it’s so big. I’m honestly kind of intimidated-”

“Yes, yeah,” Abby said.

“Cool,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

A moment of silence passed. Abby’s heart raced with the prospect of getting to talk to you so much. Guide you around and show you the place. But in a second, she thought better of it. She needed to contain herself someway or another. 

“Yeah,” Abby continued. “They’ve got a great yoga studio, you know. One has classes and the other one is free for students to use anytime.”

You scoffed. Abby’s face was intentionally blank, waiting to see your reaction.

“Of course,” you said. “Of course, you assume I’d just want to do yoga.”

“I figure you’d want to see it.”

“Okay, well could you just show me the whole gym?”

“Yeah,” Abby said, recoiling from you a bit. She pushed through, wondered if perhaps she could make this worse for herself. Worsening the relationship could force the unwanted thoughts about you to subside entirely. “Sorry. You don’t strike me as a weightlifter.” 

You stopped and looked sharply her way.

“Okay. Forget I asked. I’ll find someone else.”

Just like that, another failed attempt at conversation was over. Her self-sabotage felt far less productive than she thought it would feel. All Abby felt was stupid. Her heart sank lower in her chest.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

Soon she became so scared of her sleeping self, worried that you'd hear her sleep talking your name or, dear god, catch her fucking herself while she dreamt about eating you out in the quiet section of a library. The idea was so mortifying to her that she nearly couldn’t sleep with you in the room at all, which was every night. 

She grew anxious, unable to control herself and unable to sleep. Practice became lackluster. Lifting felt ineffectual. Still, she knew she couldn’t let the levee break. She needed respite in any form and, eventually, Abby realized she was desperate. 

One day before rugby practice, she texted Nora, a girl Abby fucked on and off for a majority of her freshman year. Abby liked Nora because she was as impersonal about hooking up as Abby was. It was a clean-cut fuck buddy deal she knew she could rely on if she wanted.

The next Thursday, Nora took Abby in like an old friend. She sat her down and opened a bottle of wine, performed the pleasantries of simple conversation, caught up with school and sports and life, and eventually led Abby to the bedroom.

They knew what they were there to do.

In a blur, Abby found her arms wrapped around Nora's lower back as she pressed her face flesh to Nora's chest, guiding her through a sweaty orgasm which seemed satisfactory. 

When Nora tried to return the favor, Abby was completely dry. 

She had been mentally elsewhere since the moment she knocked on the door. 

She played it off as just being out of it, just wanting to please Nora that night. So, Abby haphazardly thanked her for the wine, as it was really the only thing Nora could give Abby that night besides for a spacious bed outside of the dorms, and they went to sleep.

But Abby could only stare up at the ceiling as Nora breathed heavily beside her in a deep sleep. 

She decided to walk back to the dorm. It was early and the sun was just starting to light up the sky. You were asleep, and when Abby closed the door, you sprawled out in your bed, strands of hair curled and scattered messily around your face. She watched you sleep for a second, feeling gross and cold and wired. She still couldn’t sleep, so she turned on her desk lamp and read in an attempt to forget her last two or three decisions.

When the sun was finally up, you turned over in your bed and pushed your covers down to your feet, stretching out until your hands hit the headboard. You saw Abby was already up, only reading in bed as you often found her.

“No gym today?” You yawned.

Abby looked over at you and just shook her head. 

“You look tired.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Abby said.

You nodded, grabbed your toiletry bag, and left. 

Half of Abby convinced herself you knew what she’d been doing the night before, which only made her feel dirtier. Moreover she believed that even if you knew, in agreement with how she wanted to keep things, you were totally indifferent.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

Abby’s logic wasn’t flawless. She thought she had been doing all the right things. She fucked it out of her system, as far as she was concerned, so after that she got right back into the swing of her routine. All excess feelings would surely go away. The dreams would stop. 

Yet, a week later, it was your face she saw through vertically moving weights, walking through the gym’s hallways that made Abby nearly drop the weights she had raised over her head. 

A blonde girl was walking with you. You seemed disinterested. 

Her name was Carol and she was another classical guitar major. She was the best in your music theory class and you clung to her when you realized not only was she a talented sight reader but she had the most lifeless and dull nature of anyone you had ever met. She was the exact friend you had hoped to meet.

She had also offered to show you around the gym when you asked. Admittedly, you didn’t need someone to tour guide you through the gym. You just didn’t want to go alone. 

Carol talked at you in great detail about the gym’s hours, what kinds of people one might find in certain areas, and how she tried pickleball once but couldn’t stand the instructor’s “overly-excited” approach to teaching.

You zoned out, clutched onto the straps of your backpack, and looked around at the gym. There were so many levels. A big hole in the wall right by the entrance that showcased the basketball courts, two yoga studios hidden around a corner on the second floor, the track that outlined the upper level, and, of course, the massive weightlifting section next to it. You tried to look away from it when Carol walked you past it just in case.

When she had taken you through most of it all, you stopped at the sight of double doors with small windows you could barely see through. 

“Is that the pool?” You asked, but you were already walking away by the time Carol could answer. 

You gazed eagerly at the swimmers who glided across the lap lanes with ease. There were sounds of whistles and people yelling out times. 

“Can anyone swim here or is it just for the swim team?” You asked and no one answered. 

You looked briefly behind you. Carol was gone. But, truthfully you didn’t care enough to go after her and continued staring at the splashes and glistening bodies in swimsuits, caps bobbing in and out of the water. The smell of the chlorine was so nostalgic. You let yourself breathe in and out, taking it all in, closing your eyes.

“It's just for the swim team, usually,” a voice said right behind you.

You jumped and turned to see who was inches away from you, closing you into the door behind you.

You exhaled. “Abby.”

“You swim?” She ignored your shock.

“Not, like, for exercise.”

“Hm,” Abby responded. “So, what are you doing here then?”

“Getting the tour I requested.”

“Yeah. From Carol, who’s never actually been here before.”

You momentarily look around for Carol but assume she must have left. You wonder how Abby even knew she was with you.

“Hey, she took a very riveting pickleball class here and has much to say about it,” you said. 

Abby smirked and moved from her close proximity to the space next to you. You both stayed there for a moment, just watching.

“She seems like a lot of fun.”

“She is,” you said a bit indignantly.

“I bet,” Abby said. “I had her in my Intro to College course last year. She’s very… organized?”

You sighed, eyes still fixed on the swim team. “Yeah, she’s kind of awful.” 

Abby couldn’t contain a laugh and you laughed with her. Out of all your conversations where she seemed to get on every one of your nerves, you were always kind to her. You turned away from the doors and Abby followed alongside as you walked together. 

“So,” Abby said, “why are you friends with her then?”

“She’s very smart. She’s nice enough.”

“Your standards for friendship are pretty low. No offense.” Abby swallowed at the thought of you taking offense. Of her taking it too far again. But this time you conceded.

“You could say that. I guess I like laying low.”

“Yeah, I see that. I can’t figure out why though.” You looked up at Abby to see if she’s fucking with you again but she looked genuine. It softened you. “I think you’re cool.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking from her to the floor again. “I just…I’ve had my fill of shitty friends before. I figure Carol is the boring kind of shitty and not the ‘ruin your life’ kind of shitty.”

“Christ,” Abby said. “I get that though.”

You looked at her to call bullshit. 

“No, really,” she continued. “If I had a dime for every time I’ve realized someone I considered a best friend was actually totally fucking awful, I’d have, like…”  

“Too many dimes?”

You smile. Abby smiled at having made you smile. 

“Too many fucking dimes,” Abby agreed and lingered on you, this laugh of yours in particular said, that’s so stupid, but you smiled anyway. She looked away and nervously stroked her neck. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry about what I said before. I see you lug, like, four guitars between classes everyday, so I had no right to say what I did, about me not taking you for a weightlifter. That was stupid.”

Abby’s breath got caught in her words. There was something about her that always made you sympathetic and made the corners of your mouth perk up. She went on.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Which… that’s my fault. If you ever want to hang out, though, outside of the dorm-” 

But your eyes tore from her and were suddenly down the hall, staring at a gaggle of girls talking to one of the front desk student workers. Your face went sullen and your body stunned. Abby tried to follow your gaze.

You went into a panic and your eyes darted around until they landed on Abby again. 

“I have to go,” you suddenly said. You swung around to Abby, seemingly hiding your face from them.

“Oh- sorry, did I-”

“But thanks for saying that. Yeah, we should,” you said, and Abby could sense your urgency to leave. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Abby couldn’t hide her surprise. And pleasure. “Yes. Yeah,” she coughed. “Sure.”

“It’s a Valentine's Day party. I know it’s early in the month for that, but, yeah, Carol invited me and it seems like it might be fun, I sort of want to go but I don’t really want to go with…”

“Oh, yeah, no, fuck Carol. I’m down.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes opened brightly, at her and then anxiously to the doors behind you. “Okay, that’s great, amazing. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” 

And you were out the door. Abby noticed your head slightly turn away from the girls at the front desk. 

Abby’s eyes were wide. She let out a big breath and smiled to herself as she walked back to the weights. Yet, Abby found herself counting past her normal ten reps, so consumed by her thoughts that she couldn’t feel her muscles burning. Perhaps it was the moment you invited her to the party that Abby’s grand idea to repress her feelings had gone out the window. Maybe it was when you confided in her, in what small way it was, or the way you laughed at her being a smart ass that made her abandon the boundary she set for herself. Or, possibly, in the moments she spent watching you watch the swim team, Abby realized something she quietly knew since the day she met you: she couldn’t exercise or fuck her way out of this. 

Even if it all was to just be your friend, which she was slowly accepting it would be, it would be worth it to die on that hill. She would let herself die on that hill. Even if it broke her heart and you never were any the wiser. What else could she do? Abby had been a lost cause from the start. 

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

In a glance, Abby’s memories stop short. She feels the same sense of hopefulness she did in her memory so she chooses not to reminisce further. Not when things feel so simple and good again.

It was hard enough for Abby to look you in the eyes. Every time she did, she felt like she was reading a book and your pages were turning so fast it made her dizzy. It’s how she feels as you ask again:

“You coming?” 

You’re half turned to face Abby on the pool’s edge with a hand outstretched to her and anticipation in your eyes. 

She comes in colors everywhere, she combs her hair, she's like a rainbow...

As if at peace with the restlessness you gave her, she looks over to you sweetly, cracking a girlish smile and releasing her hair from its braid.

“I’m not waiting for you!” You sing out. “Three! Two!”

Abby runs and cannonballs into the pool. 

A second later, Abby feels you explode into the water next to her and opens her eyes. The chlorine stings but she sees you clearly. The deep blue glow surrounds your body as you cascade through the water. Your eyes are squeezed shut drawing little lines of sunshine on the sides of your face, bubbles of air fluttering around you, escaping to the surface. 

Abby follows you up until you both find air. Two heads bobbing up and down. The noise of splashing calms. It’s just you and her. Both bodies are tensely aware of that fact. 

You hide the bottom half of your face in the water, looking away from Abby nervously. You can sense her eyes on you. It makes you freeze. The familiar heat runs up your neck. 

“Stop it.”

She shrugs, indecipherably.

“Okay,” she says.

But Abby doesn’t change a thing.

It all festers on your face. 

You take a breath and plunge down until water surrounds you completely, until you’ve held your breath so long that your heart beats louder than your thoughts, slowly and finally drowning them out.

Comment if you want to be on this story's taglist!

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.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.

[dear-ao3]

Question for the mods....

HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???

Like what???

How??

I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol

Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)

I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.

/gen /lh /nf /pos

2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.

during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.

during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.

come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.

we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).

and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.

katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:

we've always been like this lol

and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:

every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)

[hayatofiles]

PROMISCUOUS BOY

prompt: your next-door neighbour keeps bringing hookups one night after other disturbing your precious sleep. exhausted, you decide to write a letter venting all your frustrations — not expecting that in the middle of all this it would reach it recipient.

pairing: blade, jing yuan x fem! reader

cw: scenario format, modern au, slightly ooc to fit the plot, suggestive themes, mentions of sex, flirt, not beta-read

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Dear apt 502’ neighbour, I understand that starting a letter with "dear" may sound a bit old-fashioned and ridiculous when I don't even know you, but I hope you take in consideration my romantic spirit as a passionate literature student and will overlook this fact. That said, the reason why we’ve never met is mainly based on the times when I leave and get home. You see, I'm in my last year of a master's degree and the university has been charging all my time and dedication, so I barely have time to take care of myself other than to fall into bed and sleep. But lately, in the late hours of the night, I’ve had my rest interrupted at the only moment when my mind should find peace. And I swear, I've tried to use all possible methods to prevent the noise from affecting me but it has been increasingly difficult. Far be it for me to look for trouble because of someone else sex' life, no. I'd rather say good for you instead. But would it be nice of you to fuck your bitches without breaking my wall in the process? I can deal with their horrible moans, but definitely not with my damaged apartment. Be that as it may, I wish you the best intentions. Your apt 503’ neighbour

Blade

Oh, how you hated your neighbour. You hated him so much.

There were few people who achieved such a feat since you were the most patient and easygoing person to ever exist. Not even your Languages ​​and Cultures II’ partner who was extremely irresponsible or your idiot ex-boyfriend who still didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word break-up were able to get out of you a feeling as negative as hate. But, well, for everything in this life there was a first time, and your not-so-dear-neighbour was getting the upper hand.

When you wrote the letter on one of the dozens of nights in which his nocturnal activities seemed to be more important than other people's rest, you didn't expect a few days later for it to disappear from your desk where it belonged, much less for your friendly doorman to confirm your worst nightmare: all the mail for the week had already been sent.

What was supposed to be a joke turned into more days and nights of stress and you even considered writing him a second letter explaining that it was all just a misunderstanding and that the cracks in your wall weren't that important after all. However, when a week passed and your next-door neighbour's sexual activities began to last until the next morning, you understood that he was deliberately mocking you and, consequently, declaring war.

Now take a good look. You were a person known for your poise and calmness in overcoming challenges despite so much pressure, so it was expected that it’d be no different this time. Except it was. Because not even the calm and composure that the gods gave you could help you ignore the terrible moans in the next room, and the investment you put into that apartment was too high to let it go unnoticed.

And so, at 7:05 am on a Sunday morning, you found yourself in front of apartment 502' door knocking continuously on it as you waited not so patiently the willingness of your neighbour to finish his fuck and attend you. How a person managed to have so much sex drive was beyond your understanding, but perhaps this was due to the fact that your neighbour was an old and lonely man who must have found pleasure in the company of women only at night. Yes, that was a plausible reason.

In the end, you spent at least five minutes abusing the door’s wood without stopping. And just as you prepared to knock once more, it suddenly opened and the man who had tormented you all your nights had finally revealed himself.

Your impressions: Well, old he certainly was. Lonely? Hard to say. Now, unfairly hot and attractive? Unexpectedly yes.

When you came to your senses, you and the half-naked man spent a long time staring at each other in silence, absorbing each other's characteristics. You were clearly affected by his beauty and he was clearly irritated by your presence.

"Are you going to stare at me all the way, or are you going to say what you want?"

You blinked once, twice, three times until his words hit you, making you visibly red with embarrassment. How rude!

"First, good morning to you too," you said venomously, "Second, didn’t you read the letter, no? What part of not breaking the wall didn’t you get?"

The man seemed to take your words into consideration for a few seconds before a sneer appeared on his lips and his eyes narrowed in amusement. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his bare, scarred chest, making him more attractive than he already was.

"I don't see how this is up to you alone. After all, the wall is as much yours as it’s mine," he says and you open your mouth in shock.

"Excuse me? How can I not when it’s my side that is being damaged the most!"

"Then you better start looking for a bricklayer."

Gods, this man was impossible! You already knew that you hated him for a very insignificant reason, but now you were sure that he was more detestable than he let on. And the fact that he counts your arguments with that purposeful blank expression infuriated you even more.

"Unbelievable. Not only can't I keep my apartment intact, but I also have to spend sleepless nights because of the noise too."

"If the noise bothers you so much you can always come and join in," your neighbour offers with a small smirk, but the devilish glow that radiated from his crimson iris didn’t hide the true meaning behind his words.

Too embarrassed and disconcerted to continue the argument with the man, you angrily return to your house, slamming the door aggressively and containing the scream of frustration that bubbled in your chest.

Yingxing in turn couldn't help but think that you had a nice ass, and that annoy you was even better than he thought.

Jing Yuan

Two whole days looking for the letter all over your apartment took you to the most advanced stage of despair. Even though you had already ransacked your living room from floor to ceiling more times you could remember, messing up your kitchen and bedroom in the process, you still hadn't found a single trace of the piece of paper. And even though a part of you already knew that there was a high chance that the letter had been mixed in with the other correspondences and had been forwarded to its intended recipient, you'd rather have a hole in the ground swallow you than consider the only plausible option.

Even so, now here you found yourself: in front of the apartment 502’ door with a courage and pride that wasn't yours, sweat running down your spine and the dread of finally coming face to face with the man who not only ruined your last nights sleep, but who could very well ruin your social life too. God, just thinking that he could be a troublemaker and report you to the police, tarnishing your criminal record and your reputation as a good neighbor made you sick to your stomach.

But there was no other alternative. You had to make sure he hadn't opened the letter, or, in the worst case, consider not bringing this humiliation to the public.

So, minutes after knocking on the door, you were finally greeted by the resident of apartment 502 who, for much your surprise (or much delight) was wearing nothing but a bath towel with the steam's traces still emanating from his pale, wet skin. It suddenly became very clear to you why all those dozens of women made sure to scream “Oh, Jing Yuan!” every time they reached an orgasm.

"May I help you?"

Yeah. Fucking kill me, you wanted to answer.

The words you had practiced so much seemed to have escaped your brain and a familiar heat burned your cheeks. The embarrassment was huge, but you had already come this far and there was no going back. You only wished your neighbour wasn't this attractive, though.

"Hi. Good evening, sir. I’m your nextdoor neighbour and I wanted to know if by any chance you received a letter signed in my name", you stuttered so fast that you feared you’d have to repeat the sentence all over again since Jing Yuan didn’t seem to express any reaction for a few seconds. 

As the realization hit him, though, a faint gleam of amusement crossed his golden irises and mortification hit you like a bolt of lightning.

Oh shit. He had read the letter.

"Just a moment, ma'am", Jing Yuan said with a playful smile on his lips and entered his apartment for a few seconds, returning shortly afterwards with the well-known envelope in hand.

He held out the letter and you trembled as you finally picked it.

"I can tell that this was not a letter intended to be sent, right?"

"No, it wasn't. And I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble! God, what a humiliation! Now would be a great time to die", you pleaded into the void and your handsome neighbour laughed in response.

"It’s alright. You know, it's the first time I've received a letter from such a beautiful lady, although the content was definitely not what I expected", he said contemplatively crossing his huge arms on his huge chest. You looked away feeling more embarrassed, "Nevertheless, I also apologize for my lack of attention. I’ll be more considerate from now on."

If only it could get any worse. Here he was apologizing for having a healthy sex life when you should probably be doing the same. Having sex not apologizing, of course. 

Fearing that if you said anything else your words would come out more clumsy than the erratic beating of your heart, you forced a smile to your neighbour who was now looking at you intensely in slight amusement. And realizing that if you stared back at the man for too long your role as a fool would only get worse, you came up with a quick excuse to escape from there and back to your apartment. Maybe your next letter would be a goodbye to the world because you refuse to leave your home from now on.

"Thank you for your attention and again I apologize for the confusion, Mr. Jing Yuan. It was great meeting you, really, but I need to go so have a good night and don’t mind me anymore," you bow quickly and respectfully as your face burned in red, and stumble on wobbly legs back to your door.

However, before you could enter your house due to fumbling with the wrong keys for the lock, Jing Yuan let out a light laugh and replied: “It was my pleasure to meet you, Miss Neighbour. Although, I must say that I would like to keep hearing more from you from now. This time, in person, of course."

Needless to say you entered your apartment at lightning speed vowing never to exit it again, leaving behind a very good-humored Jing Yuan.

How delightful to know that you already knew his name before he even needed to introduce himself, huh.

[cuubism]

PLEAAE write dreamling pregnancy crackfic you MUST and PLEASE include Sad Crying I Forgor cat dream

Behold, lovely anons, some nonsense.

---

“Um, Dream,” says Hob, staring at the tiny plastic stick sitting on his bathroom countertop, “what is that.”

Dream comes to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder. “It is a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, why?” Hob picks it up, squinting down at it. “And why is it negative?”

He realizes a second later that the first question out of his mouth should, in fact, have been why the fuck do you have a pregnancy test? Unless it’s not Dream’s and someone just broke into his flat and left it there, which might actually be less weird.

“Presumably because I am not human,” says Dream.

Hob puts the test down. Turns around, takes Dream by the shoulders, and steers him out of the bathroom. Once they’re back in the living room, he means to say a number of things, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What.”

“The test does not work because I am not human,” Dream repeats. He’s definitely being deliberately obtuse now, if he wasn’t before.

A million questions swirl in Hob’s mind, and a rising swell of panic. He mentally shakes himself. Forces himself to get it together. He’s not a seventeen-year-old kid who got a girl pregnant. He can handle his shit.

He holds Dream still by the arms. Tilts his head until Dream meets his eyes. “Dream, do you have something that you want to tell me? In words, maybe?”

Unless he doesn’t know. But he’s like, a concept, how could he not know?

Wait, is this why Hob was having random dreams about babies last week? He is going to kill this man.

Well, he’s going to give him a hug first. Then he’s going to kill him.

Dream looks into his eyes. Oh God, he’s serious now. So this wasn’t all just for kicks, not that Dream really does things for kicks, anyway. “Hob, I am—”

Hob hauls him into an embrace before he can finish the sentence. Perhaps he should let Dream say it. But he can’t not hug him.

Dream relaxes into his hold. Hob hadn’t realized how tense he was until he did. Oh, poor thing. Just because they’re not young people floundering about on the precipice of adulthood doesn’t mean it’s not stressful. Especially that in between moment, when he knows, and Hob doesn’t.

“I have known for a few weeks now,” Dream says, face pressed to Hob’s shoulder. “Are you upset?”

“No, of course not.” Upset? He’s having their child and Hob’s upset? He supposes they didn’t exactly plan it, but, when has he ever planned anything when it comes to Dream?

He pulls back at last, kisses Dream’s temple, and steers him over to sit down on the couch. He sits beside him, their knees touching. Takes Dream’s hand and squeezes it. “If you already knew, then why did you bother to use the test?”

“I was curious if it would work,” says Dream.

Somehow, Hob doesn’t think that’s the whole truth. “Please tell me you weren’t just going to leave it somewhere and let me guess?”

“I would have crafted some more dreams as well,” Dream says. Blasted idiot. Why is Hob in love with him? Oh yeah, because he’s even more of an idiot.

“Wasn’t picking up on it,” Hob says. “I didn’t think this was possible, to be honest. We’ve just been recklessly having unprotected sex for how long? And you never thought to mention this was a possibility?”

“I forgot,” Dream says morosely, the most pitiable frown on his face. “It is not as straightforward as it is for humans. But yes, it is possible. Evidently. I suppose I have been caught up in the… joy of our moments together. I have not had a lover in a long time.”

“Oh, love.” Hob holds him close, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “It’s alright. It’s my fault, really. I should have asked. Wrap it before you tap it, Hob.”

Dream wrinkles his nose at the phrasing. Hob kisses him on the tip of his nose.

“Maybe I was thinking about it a little bit,” Hob admits. The thought has definitely… crossed his mind, before. And it’s easy to get drawn in, when Dream is in his bed, when he looks so gorgeous, when Hob makes love to him and fills him and—

Oh, this is his fault. This is absolutely his fault. He’d thought it was a safe fantasy to indulge in, impossible in reality. Meanwhile he was fucking one of the few beings made of both fantasy and reality at once. Hob’s really the king idiot.

“A little bit?” echoes Dream, raising an eyebrow.

Hob cringes. “A lot a bit?”

Unexpectedly, Dream smiles. “You are happy, then.”

Hob goes still, staring at him. “Did I not say?”

“You expressed that you were not upset,” says Dream. “Which is not the same thing as being happy.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Hob holds him closer, kisses his cheek, his brow, the corner of his lips. “I love you so much. I’m so happy.”

“Truly?”

Hob kisses him on the lips this time, long and deep. Takes Dream’s face in his hands and caresses his cheeks. “Truly. Obviously.”

Dream hums, sounding pleased.

“Are you happy?” Hob asks. Though he suspects Dream would have been rather obvious in his displeasure if he wasn’t, he usually is.

“I believe so,” says Dream carefully. “I… would like to be. Only, I have failed before, when I had a child.” Hob pulls far enough away to look at him. Dream’s expression has twisted now. “I do not wish to repeat that.”

“You won’t.” Dream looks unconvinced, so Hob repeats it. “You won’t. You’ve learned from that. So have I.” Hob certainly made many of his own mistakes with Robyn. But he still wants to try again.

“There are many terrible endings to this story,” Dream says. Of course, Hob’s just looking at the beginning of the thing, and Dream’s looking at the whole arc, especially the end.

“And good ones,” Hob says. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make it good.”

“I do believe that,” says Dream, finally offering him a small smile. “You have been able to make many things good for me when I thought it impossible.”

That might just be the greatest success of Hob’s life. To make Dream see that things can be good.

“It will be good,” he vows. “You’ll see, darling.” And Dream smiles again.

Hob lays his hand over Dream’s lower belly. He doesn’t know if this pregnancy even has a physical component at all—Dream himself barely has a physical component sometimes—but it’s instinct to hold him there.

Hob can already feel himself wanting to coddle him. He’s going to have to stop himself from doing that, he highly doubts Dream will appreciate it. He has to remind himself that what happened with Eleanor won’t happen again this time, that modern medicine is so much better, and that Dream isn’t even human in the first place. For all he knows, the baby will just be born out of the clouds.

“Hob,” says Dream. “You are drifting.”

Hob shakes himself. “Sorry, love.”

“What were you thinking of?” Dream presses, brow pinching. “I felt the nature of the daydreams turn… darker.”

Hob grimaces. “It’s really nothing. Just me in my head, you know.”

Dream keeps looking at him expectantly.

Hob sighs. “It’s just, it didn’t go so well last time, with Eleanor, you know? And I know this is different, you’re different, so just be patient with me if start being a mother hen, yeah?”

“Hob…” Dream takes his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’m sorry, I had not considered. Do you not want…?”

“No! I do want this. I just worry, is all.” He kisses Dream’s cheek. “It’s because I love you. Couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

“I must do what I can to make it good, then,” Dream says, and Hob smiles at the turnabout of his words. “You need not worry. There is no danger to me. And the baby is not human, besides.”

"It's not?" Hob supposes it's not that much of a surprise. "What is it, then?"

“I am not quite sure. I expect it will become evident soon.” He rests his hand over Hob’s, which is still on his stomach, and he looks fond now. “Perhaps once I can see its dreams.”

“You can see its dreams?”

Dream casts him an amused look. “I am made up of those dreams. And all others. Why should our baby be different?”

Our baby. It’s so affecting to hear him say it like that.

“Our baby,” Hob repeats, just for the sound of it.

“Yes,” says Dream. He sounds properly happy now, which is so lovely to hear. “Ours.”

“Well, now I’m glad we forgot to talk about magical birth control,” Hob says. “Irresponsible sex for the win! Now I get to meet our magical baby.”

“I have never known you to be a man particularly driven by responsible decision-making,” Dream says solemnly.

Hob gapes at him. “Hey!” It’s true, though. It’s all true. “I’ll be the most responsible parent you ever saw. I’ll only let them have the iPad for twenty-three hours a day instead of twenty-four.”

“I can create fantastic spectacles to which the likes of ‘Cocomelon’ cannot hope to compare,” Dream says indignantly, as if this was really an open question in Hob’s mind.

“You can be in charge of screen time, then,” Hob tells him, and Dream’s scowl shifts into a smile.

“When do I need to be ready for this?” Hob asks. “Is it like a nine months thing, or…?”

“Unclear,” says Dream. Fantastic. Typical. For all Hob knows, Dream will show up with a whole baby in his arms tomorrow. Either that or it’ll be a hundred years from now. “I suspect there will be an element of surprise.”

Of course. Dream’s sense of time passing is pretty bad at the best of times, why would the baby be any different?

“I’ll have to get to the shops, then, seeing as I don’t currently own an iPad,” Hob says.

Dream hands him one that definitely was not in existence a moment ago.

“Did you get that—”

“From a dream, yes.”

Hob stares at it in wonder for a moment, wondering if it even has normal apps, or strange ones only dreamt of, then sets it on the coffee table. “Well, Christmas shopping with you will be a cinch.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. “I would not wish to burden you with these things,” he finally says. “To upend your life when you are already well-occupied.”

“Nope, none of that.” Hob takes Dream’s hands and pulls them close. “First of all, I’m very old and can afford to buy a lot of iPads, so don’t worry about it. But more than that, I love you.” He taps Dream’s belly, though he still doesn’t know exactly how or where this not-human baby is meant to grow. “And you. So don’t think like that. I know I can’t expect a nine-to-five, normal daily schedule from you. I’ve never expected that from you.” As of now, Dream just visits whenever he can, often at odd hours. Hob doesn’t expect he’ll be able to change that much, even now. He is still Dream above all else.

Dream doesn’t deny it, either. He looks down at their joined hands. “Would that it were otherwise.”

Hob rubs his thumb back and forth over his knuckles. “It’s okay. I needed some new excitement in my life anyway. Besides—” he gestures to the dream-iPad—DreamPad? Dream will hate that name, so Hob will definitely have to use it—“even if we can’t always have you, we’ll have your stories, hm?”

Dream smiles, then, a fragile smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Course it is.” Hob kisses his cheek. “We’ll figure it out, love. Don’t worry.”

“That is one skill you certainly do possess,” says Dream—in contrast, Hob supposes, to his lack of rational decision-making. “‘Figuring it out.’”

“My PhD is in Winging It,” Hob agrees. “Speaking of, though, we are going to have to have an actual talk about how not to have another ‘surprise’.”

“Yes,” Dream agrees ruefully. He seems quite embarrassed about it, actually, and Hob can’t help but hug him again, squeezing him tight, kissing his cheek and temple. Despite the shock and confusion, Hob really is happy, powerfully so. A baby, his and Dream’s baby. He can’t even imagine the possibility of it.

Dream squirms under the attention, but hums, seeming pleased deep down.

“A little baby Dream,” Hob sighs. “They will be a terror.”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “And you think your influence has no effect on that?”

“I was a delightful child,” Hob protests.

“Do not tempt me to draw proof to the contrary from your dream records,” Dream warns.

“You’ll be a terror,” Hob says. “‘No, Da, I definitely didn’t cheat on that exam,’ ‘Mm, that’s not what your dream at 2:34 am indicates.’”

“Precisely,” says Dream. He sounds quite proud of himself, really. Little nightmare.

Hob kisses him again, on the lips this time. Yes, they will definitely be absolute terrors, the both of them.

But it would be boring otherwise.

[goodnessgraves]

Old farmhouse I love.

Part 1!

Warnings: DBF!Graves, pining, suggestive language, sexy graves, i am drunk and refuse to proofread, age gap, i write funny jokes into these, somebody match my freak 😔

18+ MDNI

You drive up onto the old ranch you love more than life itself, having grown up there with nobody but your Ma and Pa, but as you pull into your old parking spot, a white Ford F-360, sits there. Okay, whatever. You park on the right of it.

It looks extremely out of place on the old ranch, but maybe your old man got a new truck? (You highly doubt it. That stubborn bastard would drive his truck until it exploded with him inside.)

You hop out of your old yellow Volkswagen Beetle and step onto the dirt, taking in the smell. Something is a little off.

Walking to the front door you knock three times before your dad greets you with a big hug and you mom joins in. The familiar comfort reminding you of how you used to come home from school Nostalgia flooding your senses, but it’s different. There’s a spectator.

Phillip Graves. The gorgeous bastard he is. Too beautiful to be a hardened soldier, his eyes are too sweet and mesmerizing, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his blue jeans held up with a belt, a ridiculous buckle on it, is boots are weathered- oh shit. You were staring.

Eventually he chuckles, looking you dead in your eyes. Theres that fucking smirk again, the things you wouldn’t do to slap it off his stupid, smug, sexy, defined face.

“You look… different.” You say, justifying your staring, but it just makes his smirk turn into a smile. Son of a bitch.

“It’s been what? 5 years? It’s been too long, darlin’.” He pulls you into a welcoming hug, he smells like leather and cigarettes, you could drool. At this point, your brain is melted. All it takes is a hot southern man who smells good saying something he would say to literally anyone else to get you wet? You are doomed.

After a while of chatting amongst him and your parents, he helps you bring your stuff in from you car. There’s not much, just a few suitcases and a few bags. He places them neatly on the bed and shoots you that smile that makes you weak in the knees before leaving and running down the stairs to go bother your father in the kitchen.

God damn it. Now you’re stuck between a rock and a wet place. Yeah, he’s your dad’s best friend, but also, you’re 25, you’re a grown woman, plus he’s only in his 30’s. (Probably)

The dinner bell rings and your Ma calls you to wash your hands and eat your dinner. You happily oblige, nearly tumbling down the stairs before sitting down and gobbling up your food.

His eyes never left you.

You sipped your wine? Eyes on you.

Took a bite of the best Brisket you’ve ever had in your life? Watching.

He was watching, and you loved every second of it.

After dinner, you help clean up and go out to the porch, hopping up on the old wooden chair swing, nuzzling into it with your glass of wine. After about 10 minutes, Phillip steps out into the porch, sitting next to you.

He’s spread out and grabs a cigarette and lighter out from his jeans pockets, lighting it up.

This felt… right.

[cosmicvenusnebula]

⋆☾⋆ Meme post ⋆☾⋆

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Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x Gn!Reader

Au: Canon Universe

Description: Random scenarios with the demon bro's, most of them revolve around gaming.

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Silly Anger and Angst, Silly Writings,

Word Count: 940 words

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♥ Lucifer ♥

"No. Absolutely not."

"Come on Lucifer pleaseeeee! Just this once!" You beg, trying to convince the eldest brother to indulge in your interests for once.

"I have better things to do than play video games" Lucifer says with venom, what would Diavolo think if he slacked off to play games with some human?? Lucifer couldn't risk it, so he continued to go through the stacks of paperwork on his large desk.

"Afraid you would lose old man? Too pussy to play against a human?" You knew you were playing with fire by insulting him, even playfully, because if Mammon had said that he would be tied upside down, hanging from a chandelier somewhere in the house of lamentation.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!" ... Uh-oh. "You've got some nerve, I just hope that nerve is brave enough to groom Cerberus after you lose." Lucifer stands up from his desk, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the common room where the shared gaming console is.

♥ Mammon ♥

"Huh?! You think you can beat the Great and Powerful Mammon at gambling?? HAHAHA ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS??" The demon of greed almost keels over from laughter, slapping his knee at the joke he thinks your making.

"Yes, I am completely and utterly serious. How about this, winner not only gets all the money, but also the title of Devildoms best gambler, and loser has to slap Lucifer in the face." You smirk, knowing Mammon will do anything to win as the embodiment of greed, he wins at everything when money is involved. However, you have a trick up your sleeve.

You talk the rest of the brothers into playing poker with you and Mammon, except for the eldest. They are all willing to cheat and help you with your little trick just to see the chaos unfold when he has to slap Lucifer.

The whole game, everyone gets amazing cards, everyone except for Mammon. Unfortunately for him, you use your pact to force him into placing down his cards every time, losing more and more money until he eventually loses the game, and all the brothers immediatly forfeit after that, leaving you as the technical winner.

~ ~ ~ Not long later ~ ~ ~

"MAMMONNNNN COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT, I'M GONNA TEAR YOU APART AND FEED YOU TO BEEL"

♥ Leviathan ♥

You just got a brand new video game, one that is only available in the human world, but due to Diavolo favoring you, he found a way to get it in Devildom stores for limited time.

"How....how did such a normie get this game down here!"

"I asked Diavolo...."

"And he agreed? He went through that much trouble to give a normie some random video game? OMG Lollllolollol! *random video game ramble*"

"Just put the damn game in and turn on two controllers."

♥ Satan ♥

"She's mine Lucifer!" Satan yells, dragging you out of Lucifers office. "W-We were just playing Chess, what the hell are mad about?"

"I'm mad that you are alone with a man like Lucifer. I don't want him rubbing off on you."

Satan drags me away from Lucifers room, dragging you like he is holding you hostage. He takes you back to your room, securing you on his lap as you watch documentaries.

"You didn't have to drag me away from your brother. I get you hate him, but my god- "

"It's just...we are so similar I don't want to see you fall for him instead."

♥ Asmodeus ♥

"Really~? You wanna play with me~? I guess it was only a matter of time before you fell for my charm~"

"A-Asmo....I meant the succubus rpg game-"

"Oh...well thats a lot less fun. Oh well! Lets go play."

Once you go to your room, you get the game up and suddenly Asmo pulls you into his lap. "Uhh? What're you doing?"

"Just getting comfortable. I can't stand being without your touchhh~" You just ignore him as both of you begin to set up your characters.

♥ Beelzebub ♥

"Nonononono!!! Beel that isn't food!" You freak, trying to get the candle out of his hands.

"Huh? But it smells good." Beelzebub pouts at you, and you feel like you've just kicked a puppy.

"Just, put that down darling." I put my hand over his and lower it back down onto the table, making him drop my scented candle. "Lets go get you some cheeseburgers." Beel nods ferociously, mouth already drooling at the thought.

You take him to the 24 hour magic food place in-between the campus housing. Their menu is anything you want, they use magic to conjure up the tastiest version of what you request.

"Feel better?" You ask, smiling softly at his silly nature. "Very much. Thank you Mc." He talks with his mouth full, shoving as many cheeseburgers as he can straight into his stomach.

♥ Belphegor ♥

"Belphiiieee, wake up!" You try to shake the sleepy demon awake, wanting to show him a new game you bought for your Devilswitch.

Suddenly his tail wraps around you and he pulls you into his bed with him, his chest against your back. He rests his head on your shoulder, slightly opening his eyes enough to see your switch. "Mhm, nice. How did you get the money for that?"

"I sweet-talked Leviathan to buy it for me, he wanted it to and it has a co-op option so."

"You could have asked me. I never spend any of the money I get, too tired to ever go out."

"I tried, you wouldn't wake up."

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I hope you guys enjoyed! It's 1am and I just wanted to get a quick debut fic out! This is my first fic on this account :)))

[anjaelle]

hii, can you write a dave lisewski x reader where reader is new at school and he volunteers to give her a tour of the school. Dave thinks she is really pretty and wants to be her friend, he asks questions about her and finds out that she likes comics and superhero’s just like he does and he asks her to come to his house after school to watch a new marvel movie that just came out. she says yes and they watch the movie at his house. during the movie dave just can’t keep his eyes off of her and he’s so in love with her even though he just met her.The movie ends and he walks her home because it’s getting late and he doesn’t want her to possibly get into some kind of danger. when they make it to her house( he finds out that they live close to one another) she thanks him for being so kind to her and kisses him on the cheek. he blushes and wishes her a goodnight. from then on they become great friends and maybe even more. (SORRY THIS IS SO LONG, js wanted it to be detailed so it’s easier for you!!🤭)

@baddestdu0y3t

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: None. Except general teen awkwardness?

a/n: Ok so I'll be honest and say that I haven't written for highschool characters since I was a highschooler myself about 10-11 years ago. So I'm admittedly a bit rusty. I probably won't make this a regular thing, because I don't really think I'm good at it haha. And I changed some things around and cut some things out for brevity, but kept the important bits. It kind of feels like a coming-of-age romcom.

(gif source)

--x--

Dave would happily get stabbed and hit by a car twenty more times if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the current situation he was in. He'd dripped oil from his bacon egg and cheese in his lap, and tried to clean the stain with soap and water, which created an almost bigger stain. The hand dryer in the mens room wasn't working, there were no paper towels, and he was running late to homeroom. Todd gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and offered the ever-helpful comment, "Don't freak. It'll dry eventually."

But it'd been a half hour, and it hadn't dried completely. A few people passed him with looks of disgust.

This day was already turning out to be shit, and it was only 9 AM. He shoved his head in his locker, wishing that a sinkhole would form in the middle of the school and swallow him whole. As the hallway cleared, he noticed you looking down at at a paper and distractedly walking in one direction before turning a corner and disappearing. You then turned back around and walked past him again in the other direction, with a furrowed brow and a pouting lower lip. When you turned to pass him a third time, he closed his locker and awkwardly leaned up against it.

"Hey! Are you lost?" He nearly shouted at you. You stopped short, startled out of whatever daze you were in, and looked at him as if you didn't even notice there was another person in the hall until now. Any plans he had to have a normal conversation left him immediately. He cut his eyes away from you. It was like staring into the sun.

"Hi." You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder, "And yeah. This school is way bigger than my old one and I'm kinda turned around."

"Oh, yeah, totally, for sure. It's--yeah, it's big." He said awkwardly pulling at the straps of his backpack, "I mean, the school is big. The halls are big. It's a maze. Even I still get lost sometimes, and I've been here almost 4 years."

God, Dave, shut the fuck up.

You giggled at him and he felt his cheeks warm at the sound of it.

"Um, can you help me?" You asked, quirking your head to get a better look at him.

"Sure. Yeah, I can walk you to your next class."

You smiled at him and he smiled back, revealing the cutest dimples you'd ever seen.

"What about your class?"

He peeked at your schedule and his brows disappeared under the curls on his forehead, "We have the same homeroom. So we'll be going the same way."

He was very different from the boys you talked to at your previous school. You thought of what your old friends would say about him. You weren't super popular or anything, but you navigated most social spaces with relative ease. It also meant hiding a lot of yourself. Dave had a kind face and warm eyes that studied you with a sense of eager curiosity that flattered you. Incidentally, you were curious about him too.

When you introduced yourself to him and shook his hand, you noticed immediately how strong his grip was and his calloused palms. Most guys you knew with hands like those played contact sports. He didn't seem like the type, at first glance. He seemed to notice your surprise but didn't quite understand the reason behind it.

"Sorry if my hands are sweaty," he said, instinctively wiping them on his pants.

You rushed to ease his fears, "No they weren't! You're fine." And then, "Do you play sports?"

"Nope. I mean...sometimes I play Wii Tennis. I don't know if that counts though."

You giggled again, "I think that counts."

Interesting. Maybe he did woodworking or mechanic stuff like your dad. You made a mental note for later.

You both strolled down the hall in no real rush to make it to your destination as you talked. He was incredibly animated and spoke with his hands when he got into the groove of the conversation. And when you talked about your old school or your family, he actively listened and asked even more questions.

"You're really cool," he finally said, breathlessly. If you could visibly blush, you're sure you would've. You've been called a lot of things, but never "cool" with such earnestness. "I just wish I'd met you when I didn't have bacon stains on my pants."

He looked down at himself again and grimaced at his own misfortune. You could almost laugh at how resigned he was. Like this was just an everyday thing he had to deal with.

"You could just do what the girls do when we have stains on our pants," you suggested. He quirked a questioning brow and you motioned with your hands. "Tie your hoodie around your waist. It'll hide the stain pretty well, I think."

His eyes widened like you'd revealed the secrets of the universe to him, "I...didn't even think of that."

He immediately took his backpack off and dropped it to the ground to unzip his hoodie. When you noticed his tee shirt, you heard an eager gasp slip from you before you could really stop it. His shirt had the different sketched out iterations of Batman's costume designs over the years, which included a mix of his comic and movie suits.

"I just really like your shirt." You explained as he tied his sweater around his waist. "I was raised in a DC household. My dad has a big box of old school batman comics in our basement that I used to poke through when I was a kid."

His face lit up at your confession, "You like comic books?"

"I used to. I mostly just watch the movies now. The good ones, anyway." You said, shrugging. In truth, you hadn't picked a comic up since middle school. You missed reading them sometimes, but you never really had anyone to talk about them with. So you just stopped. You explained as much to him and he hummed in thought.

"Well, you can always talk about them with me. Do you like Marvel, too?"

You scrunched your nose up at him and he gasped.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his dismayed expression, "I just think most Marvel movies are corny. And the comics can be a little soap opera-y to me. Maybe I'll give the comics another try, but I don't think I've seen any recent movies other than Black Panther and Thor Ragnarok."

When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way, "If you had to choose, would you say that those were your favorites?"

"Nope," you admitted, "My favorite is Captain America: The Winter Soldier."

"And not Civil War? That one's my favorite."

You shook your head as you both approached the door to your homeroom, "I may have only seen it in parts. I don't really remember it."

He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well if you wanted...we could watch it at my house next Saturday. Only if you want. My dad and my friend Todd will be there, so it won't be just us. But they won't be weird either. At least, I don't think so."

You smiled at him as he babbled on, only reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Let me ask my mom. She might ask for your dad's number, if that's okay?"

A small smile graced his pretty face.

He nodded, "Totally."

Todd wasn't super happy with the idea of you joining their movie night. But Dave watched him warm up to you until you were both practically friends, too. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly you two got along, but he summed that up to just how friendly and easy to talk to you were. He knew the movie front to back, so he couldn't help but watch you study the movie with deep interest to see how you reacted to his favorite parts. When all was said and done, the three of you sat in the living room discussing Civil War and if you were Team Cap or Team Stark. You all seemed to be in agreement that Tony was a war criminal who indoctrinated child soldiers. But you all were in disagreement about whether Tony deserved to have his ass kicked by two super soldiers.

"He literally didn't even know that he did anything wrong!" You argued to Todd, who rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that about Bucky because you think he's hot."

"Maybe so," you admitted, "but my point still stands. He was brainwashed, he wasn't responsible."

"So you wouldn't be upset if I killed your parents, and Dave knew but hid it from you, and then beat you up when you found out?" The blond asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth, "I dunno. I'd be pretty upset."

"That's different, Dave would tell me." You responded with a coy wink at your new best friend.

Todd groaned, "You think he'd throw me under the bus for you?"

"I mean--" Dave cut in, pushing himself from the couch to stand to his feet and stretch, "--she is really pretty. And she smells nice. You're not as pretty and you just smell like Axe."

Todd gasped in mock hurt and you motioned to yourself as if to say "look at the material."

When 9:00 hit, you said goodbye to Dave's father who invited you and your family back for dinner, and hugged Todd goodbye.

"You're still wrong about Tony." He mumbled.

"You're in denial."

"You're In denial."

When you broke away to hug Dave he hesitated, "I was going to walk you home if that's okay with you. No pressure. I just...Uber is expensive on Saturday nights, and I know you don't live too far. But I don't want you to feel unsafe."

You noticed Todd shoot an odd glance at Dave before schooling his features. You made another mental note, but nodded.

"Sure, thanks."

You still weren't used to how long city blocks were. So even though you lived only a few blocks away, it felt like so much longer. Despite everything, you were surprised by how quiet this section of Manhattan was at night. Some people milled about, either going to or coming from someplace else. The air was brisk enough to add a jolt of energy to your system, but it still wasn't so cold that you felt any rush to get home.

"So what's up with the callouses?" You suddenly asked. Dave seemed confused by the question, so you grabbed his hand and held it up to him, then turned his hands over to show his reddened knuckles.

"Oh. I-I'm a...boxer. I box." He stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only my dad and Todd don't know. So don't, like, bring it up around them. They'd freak out."

You hummed, "Okay."

He let out a sigh of relief. A sharp gust of wind from a passing wind tunnel chilled you to the bone, and you looped your arm through his.

"Oh!" You said, surprised.

"Are you cold?" He leaned in closer to you, "We can walk faster if you want."

"I just..my hands are a bit cold." That didn't explain the way you were wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor. But he didn't seem to mind. He shifted his hand in his sweater pocket.

"There's some room."

You felt your stomach flutter when his hand brushed against yours in his sweater pocket. The flutter turned into a rapid thud when his fingers laced through yours. Despite how ice cold your hands were, he didn't pull away.

"Is that okay?" He asked, shyly, fully prepared to move his hand if you objected. You gave his fingers a small squeeze.

"It's great, actually."

You carried on the casual conversation for another few blocks before stopping at a newly renovated brownstone. He realized then that your family definitely had more money than his.

"Here we are."

You slipped your hand out of his grasp when you realized you still had it in his pocket.

"So...I'll see you monday?" He asked, fidgeting with a loose piece of string on his sleeve.

"Of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

You looked him over one last time before you parted ways. He was your first real friend since you moved, but you still felt like there was so much about him that you didn't know. Not because he was particularly secretive, but because you felt like there was more to him than he let on. You unconsciously reached up and moved a curl away from his eyes. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, in response.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," you said, "I just think you're really cool, Dave Lizewski."

His smile bloomed into a wide grin, exposing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "You're cool, too. Probably the coolest person I know, actually."

Your heart was thudding in your ears when you leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek. Before you pulled away, you heard him gasp softly in surprise.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and checked to see that it was your mom asking where you were.

You usually let your mom know ahead of time when you were on your way home, but you felt uncharacteristically out of sorts. You shot her a quick text letting her know you were outside.

"I hate to do this," you said, finally breaking him out of his stupor, "I really have to go now. Mom's asking questions. Text me when you get home, okay, Curly?"

You gently touched his arm and climbed the steps of your house to the front door. He gave you a weak thumbs up, but he still stared at you with a shocked, flushed face. "G-gotcha."

"And don't forget."

"I won't. I promise."

When you finally shut the door behind you, you peeked out of the small eyehole to watch as he touched his face in surprise and walked down the street in the wrong direction.

[cinnbar-bun]

Gentleman- (Brook x Reader) SMUT

Summary: You and Brook have been doing this for a while now, teasing each other and seeing who will make the first move. Ever the gentleman, Brook is happy to play along until you give him permission to go further.

Rating: NSFW

Content: AFAB and GN! Reader, teasing, consensual voyeurism tease, strap-on, handcuffs + restraints, explicit consent, slight temp play, inappropriate use of Brook's DF, Brook and Reader being teases and menaces to each other, missionary, and confessions of love.

Also a bonus ending haha.

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/n: Requested <3 Yes we ARE fucking the skeleton man and god damn it he is the best of the best. No I am not accepting criticism nor will I get therapy. THIS IS FOR ALL THE BROOK STANS WHO ARE THIRSTY FOR MORE. DON'T WORRY, YOUR GIRL IS JUST AS THIRSTY FOR HIM TOO! Thank you for the request, darling, and I hope you enjoy!!! This was a blast to write.

You can read on my AO3 here!

“Brook, are you coming with us to shop?” Luffy asked. Brook took a drag of his cigarette and glanced over to your figure sitting on the deck. He hummed then shook his head. 

“Sorry, Luffy, I’ll have to pass on that today,” Brook stated. The smoke was leaking through his eye sockets and nose, but he could still make you out. He knew you were listening in, and the mischievous grin on your face told him you enjoyed his answer. 

And, well, he had to admit, he quite enjoyed your reaction too. He exhaled another puff of smoke as Luffy shrugged. 

“Okay. You and (Y/n) can watch the ship then,” Luffy waved. The other crew members had gotten off the ship, but Robin was the last to go, following behind Luffy after glancing at you and Brook with a raised brow. Brook didn’t give her an inch, continuing to casually smoke as if everything was well. At this moment, he didn’t particularly care what Robin may or may not have thought. The game was just beginning again, and he had a role to play. 

Today… perhaps today would finally be the day he could manage to win the prize. 

As Robin’s heels clicking eventually got quieter, Brook exhaled again. Smoking didn’t particularly do much for him as a pile of bones, but the few glances you’d shoot at him before looking down again confirmed to him that you indeed seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t take you for the type, but then again, he didn’t take you for the type to do any of things you were doing now. 

He also didn’t think he was the type to play along with it as well. 

It seemed that despite being dead and a skeleton, he was still a man through and through. The thought humored and comforted him somewhat, while also making him feel absolutely ridiculous. 

You kept drinking quietly on your spot in the deck, with a spare cup of tea right beside you. 

Of course you’d make tea. He loved tea. And this little “invitation” of yours would be nothing but trouble, should he accept. 

He strode over to you and picked up the cup. It was still warm, the perfect temperature for him to drink it at. 

“Ah, thank you for the tea, my dear,” Brook said in appreciation, with a hint of the profane beneath that kindness. You looked up to him and smiled. 

“I figured you’d want some. You’re my drinking buddy,” you joke, using the old nickname he gave for the both you. He chuckles and takes a sip. 

“It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?” He says, not really caring about the weather. You don’t care about it either, keeping your eyes trained onto his. 

“Mhm. It’s just a bit too hot for me…” you fan your face with your hand before tugging at your tight top. He knows what you’re pulling. He’s a lot taller than you, so he can look down at you as you show off your cleavage by tugging on the top. He doesn’t show any emotion or do anything beyond just sip his tea. He’s not letting you win this one today. 

You’re not impressed with his reaction, as he sees your face falter for a brief second. You arch your back and groan loudly. 

“Oh man, my back is killing me,” you say dramatically. He continues to watch as you stretch, curiously thinking of how you would look on your bed. 

Snap out of it!

“That’s too bad. Perhaps you should try to take it easy today,” he suggests. “Maybe lay down for a while?” 

“That sounds nice but I was thinking about taking a bath right now,” you say as you run a hand through your hair and stand up. Even when you were standing, you still had to look up at him due to his height. You don’t even wait for his reply as you turn around and stretch again, this time bending over so he can take a good look at your behind. “See you in a bit,” you wink. 

Brook can feel the cracks beginning to form in the cup he’s holding. 

“Enjoy your bath. Should I be watching over you just in case?” He asks. It is the game you two have played, but even with his own fantasies, he won’t overstep with you. 

“I’d like that,” you say, giving him permission. “I’ll feel much safer knowing you’re keeping an eye on me.” 

And just like that, you two have folded. You saunter away, making sure to glance back at him over your shoulder. Brook feels the excitement running through his bones. He follows after you, keeping a sizeable distance while you disappear into your room to change. He waits outside, and he’s eager to use his Devil Fruit to take a peek, but that would spoil the fun, he thinks. 

So he waits. He hears the fumbling of your clothes, the opening of some drawers, some metal clinking- and then a small yelp. 

He drops his composure and knocks on the door. 

“(Y/n)! Are you alright in there?” He asks. 

“Yes. I need some help though. Can you come in?” He immediately swings open the door once you ask, and he’s shocked at the sight. 

You’re leaning on your bed, a towel wrapped around you while you hold your knee. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod. 

“I think it might be a small cut. Could you open that drawer over there and hand me a bandage?” You ask, pointing at the small nightside next to the bed. He nods and opens the drawer before another gasp. 

Inside is… 

He closes it. 

“M-my mistake,” he quickly apologizes, the embarrassment obvious in his voice. You click your tongue and dramatically sigh. 

“Oh, stupid me. I forgot that was where I keep my strap on and handcuffs!” You reply, and he glances at you to see you look completely fine while batting your eyes again at him. “I’m just so silly. I hope no handsome skeleton tries to use them with me right now. That would be awful.” 

You lean in closer to him, and he does too, admittedly enjoying how coy and forward you’re being today. 

“It would be a shame. How much would you dislike it if he did such a thing?” Brook asks, letting one of his fingers trail down the side of your face before he grabs your chin. 

“I’d absolutely despise it,” you whisper, and the heat of your breath sends shivers down his spine. 

“Well, fortunately for you, I am no handsome skeleton. Is that okay?” He whispers back as his other hand opens the drawer to bring out the fuzzy handcuffs you had there. 

“It’s more than okay,” you reply, and that’s all he needs before he quickly pins you to your bed and cuffs you. This is the furthest the two of you have gone, and you both relish in the surprise and excitement on your faces. 

He notices the way your face turns brighter, the smile on your face getting larger, and the way your chest rises up a little faster due to your breathing. It’s all so enticing to him. He can’t help but look at you as if you’re the only thing in the world right now. In this moment, you might as well be. 

“We should be quick, yes? I imagine the others will be back soon,” he reminds you. 

“I don’t care, honestly. I’m sure some of them probably figured it out already. Now come on, are you going to fuck me, or what?” You smirk. 

“You’re quite mouthy, darling. I thought you had some manners,” Brook teases your language, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“Sorry. Please, Brook, will you fuck me, or what?” 

“We’ll get there eventually,” he laughs back. He holds your restrained wrists with one bony hand (geez, was he always this strong?) and lets the other trail over your loose towel. He swiftly yanks it off with one tug, and lets it lay under the bottom half of your body, like the gentleman he is. He is amazed you’re letting your body be barren for him to see- to explore, finally. 

It is a tantalizing figure, as his fingers trace the outline of your body, from your collarbone, over your soft chest, to your stomach. The trembling breath you release is music to his ears, and he can’t wait to hear more. 

“Your body is a work of art, dear,” he says with a soft and genuine tone of voice. It catches you by surprise, as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I mean it. You’re very lovely.” 

His fingers keep stroking over your skin, and he enjoys the feel of it. He wants to remember this moment for decades to come. He wants to indulge in this feeling, of this gorgeous human presented underneath him. In his years of living (and unliving), he hadn’t quite felt so attracted to another. And though he knew what the end would bring, he still wanted to spend a moment with you. To allow him and you the chance to finally be one. 

“May I continue?” He asks. You nod and make another sound of encouragement. His hand cups at your breast, rubbing and squeezing the soft flesh in his hand. It is soft and warm. It’s unlike anything else, really. 

You’re warm all over, and the natural heat of your body makes him long and desire more. 

“Can I try something?” Brook pauses his ministrations and you nod. 

“Go ahead, Brook,” you respond your curiosity peaked. Brook places the hand against your stomach and you instantly gasp when you feel a slight chill where is his hand is. 

“Brook-!” You let out such a delicious moan of his name, and he grins. 

“You like that?” 

“Yes, go on…” you whimper. He gets excited at this, and begins to run his hand along your warm skin, cooling it off gently with his powers. The sensation makes you shiver and let out beautiful sounds he wishes to hear more of. 

Now he’s feeling a bit selfish. He wants to pull more sounds out of you. 

He stops with the cooling touch and instead has his hand travel to your lower region. 

“Ah, you’re dripping wet,” He teases, running a finger through your folds and showing you the sticky fluid on it. It’s almost embarrassing, but you’ve long abandoned shame for this moment. 

“Don’t take so much time,” you whine. 

“Darling, you can’t expect me to see this and not enjoy your body, do you?” At this, he leans down to your ear while his thumb circles your clit and a finger enters your body. The loud exhale you let out was lovely. “Allow me to show you what you have done to me with all that damn teasing.” 

His finger moves faster, before he adds another and you throw your head back. 

“Heh, you’re just upset you kept falling for them,” you cheekily respond. 

“Perhaps. But no more games right now. I want you. I want you badly,” Brook replied earnestly. 

His fingers were stretching you out, and you moaned. 

“And you want me, too,” he adds. You nod. 

“In the drawer… lube in there…” you breathlessly say. He complied and quickly brings out the bottle. 

“Yohohoho! You really came prepared!” Brook laughed. “I guess I should get undressed, shouldn’t I? Although, I’m already naked!” 

You rolled your eyes at another of his bad jokes, but he saw how you had a small smile on your face. 

“Just take them off, Brook,” you chuckle, and Brook slowly removed his fingers from inside you. He removed his jacket and pants, revealing himself fully to you. Even though most of his skeleton was visible on a usual basis, to expose himself like this to you, in this context, was almost… frightening to him. He let you stare for a moment, let you take it in, in case you wished for him to stop. He certainly wouldn’t blame you if you had said so. 

But instead, you tilted your head towards the toy and looked at him with raised brows. 

“You ready?” You asked, confused and sounding vulnerable- as if you were afraid he wished to leave. Brook ran his thumb over your cheeks. 

“Yes. Very much so. I’ve waited a long time for this,” he replied in a hushed manner. With that, he had attached the strap on to his pelvis and applied a liberal amount of lube so as to not hurt you. He held your hips and gently rubbed the dildo across your folds a few times to stimulate you. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes. Go ahead, Brook,” you replied, and with a swift thrust, he sunk into your soft walls. Although he couldn’t feel it, the noise you made was precious. Beautiful. You took deep breaths to adjust, and Brook rubbed your stomach in tender circles to soothe you. 

“Sh….sh… tell me when to go, dear,” he whispered. You swallowed roughly before panting out a ‘go’, and he began to move his hips. Your chest and body bounced with every thrust he made, and he watched in amusement at the way your face contorted with pleasure. 

“Oh, geez, Brook… fuck…” you moaned out loud, freely expressing yourself knowing that none fo the other members were here. 

“Good, good… let it out. Let it all out. Let me hear your voice,” Brook ordered. He moved a hand lower down your body and let his thumb rub your clit again. The sensation of the toy inside you and his finger against your sensitive nub drove you mad, making you scream in joy and ecstasy. 

“Harder!” You yelled, and Brook complied by thrusting his hips faster. He leaned down towards you, pinning your arms again with his other hand. 

“As you wish, my dear. But don’t blame me if you can’t walk after, alright?” You were too focused on the pleasure to respond or care, giving a weak nod. Brook found it almost cute, but he didn’t want to embarrass you or make you feel self-conscious, so he kept the thought to himself. 

The pleasure in you was growing as Brook continued to hold you tighter, squeeze you harder, and fuck you faster. It was almost inhuman how hard he was going, and the attention he was giving to your body made you melt against the bed. You whined, begged, pleaded, and cried pathetically, thanking Brook for the pleasurable experience. 

“You’re getting close, hm? You’re squeezing it so tight and your breathing is getting faster,” Brook hummed to himself. 

“Y-yes, Brook… please…” you whined, and Brook removed the hand pinning you down to stroke your throat. 

“I want to be a bit selfish, darling. I want to hear you scream my name,” he said. “Can you do that for me?” 

“B-Brook,” you stammered. 

“Louder.” 

“Brook,” you stated as his hips hammered into you. 

“You can do better than that,” he commented. 

“Brook!” You cried as he hit a wonderful spot inside you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and Brook took it as his cue to get you over the edge. 

“Louder, my dear! I know you can do it! Put your soul into it!” 

The thumb working on your bundle of nerves pressed down and you felt your oxygen being taken away as the coil that had been building up within you snapped. 

“BROOK!” You screamed, orgasming around the toy. Brook slowed his hips down to a halt while he let his his thumb continue to circle to extend your orgasm. 

You shakily rested against the bed, gasping for air and twitching in delight. You felt a cool touch on your forehead as Brook placed his hand and used his Devil Fruit powers again. 

“This should help you settle down and relax,” he explained, and the hot pulse of your lower body combined with his cool touch on top made for a pleasant feeling. 

“Thank you, Brook,” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering in exhaustion. You let out a quiet laugh and had a tired smile, a sign the afterglow was getting to you. He wanted to bask in it for a long time. Brook removed the strap-on and had placed it to the side, taking to settling beside you on the bed as he undid your handcuffs. 

He wrapped his bony arms around you, spooning you against him. It was quiet, minus the sound of your breathing. That was, until you spoke up. 

“I love you,” you stated in a low tone. 

“H-huh?” He gasped, taken aback by your confession. 

“I love you,” you repeated. 

“(Y/n), is this the sex talking?” He joked, unsure if you were being serious. No, it was more like… like he couldn’t believe you felt that way for him. 

“No. It’s my heart talking. I love you.” 

He stayed silent, not certain of how he should respond. You curled into yourself, expecting rejection. Instead, Brook pulled you closer and and rested his chin on the crook of your shoulder. 

“Then, if that is the case… allow me to give my heart to you, as well. Of course, I don’t have a heart anymore but you’ll allow that, won’t you?” Brook asked. You sighed in relief. 

“I won’t mind. Not at all, Brook.” 

“Wonderful. (Y/n), you do have all of me. Even though I don’t have a body or heart, my soul will be yours,” Brook confessed. “I will always treasure you within me.” 

He stroked the side of your body before he heard your quiet snores. He chuckled as he pressed his “mouth” to your head, as if kissing you. 

BONUS: 

“Hey, where are those two?!” Nami cried, lugging back tons of bags from their shopping trip. 

“Some guarding they were doing,” Zoro scratched his head as he threw a large box onto the deck floor. Luffy meanwhile, looked around and frowned. 

“Do you think they ate without us? Meanies,” the captain pouted. Robin glanced to the deck table and noticed the cup of tea you had brewed earlier- or, more accurately, the one you made for Brook- and chuckled. 

“It’s best we don’t disturb them. They probably got tired,” Robin said in a mirthful tone. She had a smile on her face, and Nami recognized that smile. It was the smile that meant that Robin knew something no one else did. Nami raised a brow at Robin before dusting off her hands. 

“Well, since they’ve rested up, the least they could do is help us put all these supplies away!” Nami responded, not even daring to guess what Robin was thinking of. 

Robin nodded. 

“Of course. I’ll go let them know they’re wanted here,” she laughed again as she began walking to the your room. 

[redeyerhaenyra]

Fluffy moments with Stilgar

Summary: Headcanons full of fluff with Stilgar bcos I am not immune to sand daddy

Warnings: Not much.. age gap? I think that's it. Let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: I can't wait to write smut for this dude wait what who said that

God I love this dude

Not nearly as much as he loves you though

Stilgar often isn't a man or words I think.

He's kinda like a cat. He'll just stare at you, slowly blink.

He likes to simply spend time in your presence

Definitely DOES NOT emit soft low moans that rumble from his chest when you thread your hands through his hair. Definitely doesn't do that.

He calls you "rohi". Doesn't tell you what it means you have to ask another Fremen to find out

(It means "my soul mate" 🥺🥺)

Sometimes he'll pinch your cheeks like you're a child

When you pout about it he just giggles at you that you look so silly

Will always pull the age card btw???

"I am old I don't have to explain to you-" "Yes you do?" "No-"

"No you're too young to do that rohi I will do it :3" "Stilgar im a grown adult" "Just a little baby compared to me I will do it :33"

He's such a cootiepatootie ✨️

Like to think he doesn't realise he's looking at you sometimes

Just staring at you from across the room with a big smile on his stupid face and the other fremen will motion to him like "Stilgar's at it again."

Actually worships the ground you walk on

Put it this way: if it rained on Arrakis he's not just putting his coat down over a puddle for you, he's throwing HIMSELF down over the puddle too

Oh and he always has to be near you

Not required that he's touching you at all times but he's gotta be close to you

Likes to keep an eye on you yknow? For safety

He's also a fucking oven???

This is a sfw post so I won't go too in depth about stilgars thick hairy sweaty body- *gunshots*

🤤🤤🤤

Anyway

He's soooo soft and warm I just know it

If not pillow why pillow shaped?

Shai'Hulud help you if you try to get up out of bed before Stilgar is ready to get up

Cos it's not happening

Stilgar is NOT a morning person

Tell him good morning he just grunts at you

He's tired okay

Grumpy old man tm

Though he often won't fall asleep until you do.

He strokes your hair and gazes at you like you've just presented him with the sun, moon and all the stars as you're curled up asleep next to him

Stilgar whispers to you how much you mean to him in the wee hours of the night. When it's just you and him.

You think he doesn't know that occasionally you're pretending to be asleep just to listen to him, but he knows. And he keeps doing it.

He'll scold you for staying up late though >:( youngin' like you needs your sleep!

[bluerockcandy]

Ok but like picture this:

CW is the personification of time, hes a time god, so while he can stop time, speed up, slow down, he isnt always consciously aware of the speed of time. BUT, lets think of time as a part of him. So, when he likes people, wants them to succeed, even peripherally, time seems to be in their favor.

People often say oh time flies when you’re having fun and drags when you’re not. What if this were actually true. CW isnt always focusing on the people he likes, but time is him so it also favors these people. They will always just make it to class right before the bell or save someone just in time, an attack will be a second too slow.

For danny, however, CW is basically a grandfather. CW loves danny. So time is like an eager puppy that wants to please him. If hes having fun with his friends and thinks, i wish it could always be like this, time fucking dilates for him, it really does go slower. When hes bored time speeds up just a little bit.

That was a long ass lead up to my fic idea but anywayss. Imagine danny gets old, time passes, but not really for him. Its probably a mix of being a ghost and CW being his grandfather, but hes stopped aging at some point. He loses his sense of time. When its always stopping and starting and speeding along and slowing down, it tends to lose some of its meaning. So he lives and lives until one day he realizes the world has completely changed around him. He’s become something of a homebody, staying in his home for months at a time, imaging the stars, recording star maps, generally enjoying his life.

Theres a knock at the door. More of a thud, really, and when he goes to check it out, he finds a man- a man bat? -slumped against his door. He’s baffled. But the man- man bat? -is injured, so he brings him in.

He tries to take the armor off, before giving up it just phasing it off of the guy. Not all of it, he leaves the cowl over the top of the face and the underclothes stay put, he’s not disrespectful, thanks you very much. He does what he can to patch the guy up. Its much easier to do on someone else rather than himself. The man bat guy doesn’t seem to be badly injured, a broken ankle, a fractured wrist and bruised ribs, but what really seems to have taken him out is a bad concussion, he guesses, judging by the fat ugly knot on top of the dudes head.

It is no matter, he thinks, he will just have to stay here and recover. And so danny drifts off, to put some food aside for his unexpected guest and to get back to work.

He genuinely forgets about the guy until he hears a thump. Trying to sneak out, the man bat has fallen. Now, normally, theres no way in hell Batman would have fallen. But when he’s seeing in quadruple and his head pounds with every beat of his heart, he can probably forgive himself for this little mistake. Maybe.

Danny floats on up to him.

Wait

Y am i writing this all out lol. I was just gonna outline my idea and dip 😭.

Basically, he helps bats recover, but finds he really likes hanging out with him. So time comes into play and slows down, just for them. When bruce is finally healed and can reach out to someone, the world has changed again. Shit went down in gotham. The city has changed. He doesnt understand at first. Its not really wirher of their faults, but hes- he doesnt know how he feels, sad, mad, frustrated, at a loss. He feels it all, in great detail, and it weighs heavily on him. But well, hes made friends with danny in the years- years???!! - hes been with danny. He goes back. They make up and stay together til bruce succumbs to old age bc he isnt the same as danny. Nvr was and wasnt going to be but at least they could enjoy their time together. The end.

[8myass]

OH MY GOD HIIII ur blog looks supa cool it’s so nice to meet u lele 😁😁

can i be 🧺 anon and request haechan hate sex 🥴🥴🥴 god i’m obsessed w that man

hi hi! thank you so much! of course, you can be 🧺 anon! thank you for making the first-ever request on my page. it was super fun to write this! i, too, am very obsessed with this man, he's genuinely too fine. i hope you enjoy it!! pairing. lee donghyuck/haechan x female reader genre. angst, smut (w plot) pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) wc. 1.6k cw. enemy!haechan, slight bimbo!reader, mean dom!hae, bratty sub!reader tw. alcohol consumption, mentions infidelity and breakup, slight dubcon aspects (bc of the wording, it seems very noncon at first), cursing, mentions blood, name calling (‘bitch’, ‘whore’, ‘toy’), face-fucking, deepthroating, degradation, slight praise (typically only ever mixed with degradation), hate sex (obvi), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), ass slapping, pet names (‘babe’, ‘baby’), hair pulling, breeding, haechan’s just mean idk??

“Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?” Haechan frowned, his vision blurred from an extensive amount of alcohol, hung over your shoulder as you dragged him to your car, somehow being left with the responsibility of taking him home after he was found passed out on your friend’s couch. Your friend claimed she had to clean the party that wiped through her house like a hurricane but fell asleep in the bathroom by the toilet, droplets of vomit littering the toilet seat, and more chunks in the bowl. 

You rolled your eyes, popping open the door of the passenger’s side to your vehicle, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Throwing him in the car, you shut the door and dragged your feet to the driver’s side door, sitting down to instantly start the engine up. He didn’t buckle up, slouching down in the seat, eyes dazed. You looked over at him and sighed, shaking your head, “What happened to you, man? Why’d you drink so much?”

“My girl cheated on me,” he laughed, the amusement in his tone holding the deepest pain you remember hearing your entire life. “We’re not together anymore.”

You didn’t know how to reply, never feeling so much sympathy for someone who you despised so incredibly. “Do you miss her?”

“How could I not? She was my world all through high school, no one else meant as much to me as she did,” he exhaled deeply, his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. 

You sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the drive becoming awkward in the quietness. You still didn’t know what to say, unable to comprehend whether he wanted to find comfort in you at such an awful time. 

“It’s right here,” he pointed out the window as you pulled up his street, stepping on the brakes as soon as you heard his words. 

“This place?” you scoffed, looking at him with your typical disgusted expression, accidentally forgetting the deep emotional conversation you two just had. The place was old, moss growing up the sides of the former white-painted house that had now turned brown due to being behind on cleaning. The windows were clouded, blinds pale and stained, the wood of the door cracked. “It’s a dump.”

He sighed lowly, getting out of the car with a quick shove, turning on his heels to look at you, “Can you come in?”

“You want me to come into your house?” you raised an eyebrow, but something told you to accept his offer, “Fine, just until you sober up.”

You unbuckled and followed him into his garbage site that he claimed was his house, watching him chug water bottle after water bottle sitting at the small, two-person table across from him. 

“Don’t choke, I might laugh,” you chuckled as he continued to gulp down the remaining water in the bottle, eyes narrowing while looking at you. 

“You’re annoying,” he huffed, slamming the bottle down on the table. 

“Yeah, not the first time you’ve told me that,” you snorted, “Are you sobered up yet? Can I go now, Mr. I-need-you-to-come-help-make-sure-I-don’t-choke-on-my-own-vomit?”

“Screw you,” he groaned, standing up and throwing away the plastic bottle into the green recycling bin next to his dirtied fridge. You stood up as well, hurrying toward the door, taking that as a ‘get the hell out, bitch’. Typically, that’d be what that meant, you weren’t wrong for thinking that. 

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice right next to your ear as your body was pressed against the door before your hand could reach the doorknob.

“I’m leaving, you’re sober now,” you squirmed in his grip, his thumbs pressed to the back of your hips to hold your body against the chilled wood. “Don’t touch me, let go of me.”

“Why would I do that? I’m finally available, I can finally touch you how I please,” he hummed, one finger tracing down your spine, his opposing hand slipping up your skin-tight dress, pressing his palm against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

“Don’t touch me,” you growled, squirming more aggressively in his grasp. “You’re disgusting, I hate you. Let me go before I kick your dick in.”

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he managed to flip your fussy form around so he could look into your pleading eyes. In an instant, you were on your knees, cock down your throat, gagging you to the point of tears pouring down your cheeks, slobber coating your chin as his balls smacked the remnants of your filth off your face and down onto your thighs. 

“Fuck, bitch, that’s so good,” he moaned, smirk popping onto his face as his head fell back. Your tongue looped around his cock as he repeatedly fucked your face, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs so tightly that it nearly drew blood. His fingers were laced through your hair, keeping your head in place as he thrusts himself into your mouth. He scrunched his nose up a few times as he felt your teeth brush against his dick, “A little less teeth, okay?”

“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, I’m sure you’ve had a cock down your throat every night since we last saw each other,” he scoffed, looking down at the way your eyes gazed at him with a gentle glint in them. You had only just seen him a few days ago, but you have been with a man every night since then. It was a good time killer, how could you not let some random guy fuck the daylights outta you just for funsies? “You never had something so big down your throat, is that the problem?”

You gagged in response to his question, drool pooling out around the seams of your mouth. His cock was coated in your sticky saliva by now, his tip reaching down your throat, precum leaking out around it. 

“You sound so much better gagging on my dick,” he chuckled, forcing himself entirely into your mouth until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, choking on the cum pouring out of his tip as trails of moans came out of his hung open mouth. “Yeah, that’s so fucking good, babe.”

After pulling out of your weak mouth, you didn’t have much time to bitch at him before you were bent over the table, dress forced up and panties ripped off, already rehardened cock slipped inside your dripping cunt. 

“So wet? Is this for me?” he muttered against the skin of your neck, moans spilling from your parted lips, throat way too sore to reach the volumes you currently were. “Did you like sucking my cock? How about this? Do you like this, hm?”

You frantically nodded as you felt his hands slide up your dress to roughly play with your boobs, thumbs circling over your sensitive nipples, “Ye-yeah, feels good.”

“Fuck, you’re such a whore, you know that?” he growled, smacking your ass after pulling his hand from your boob, the other one still lingering. “Gonna let me fuck you like this after just claiming you hate me?”

“I do hate you,” you scoffed, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out more unstable than you had originally planned. You did hate him, you just might not have hated this moment. The sex was good, I mean, how could you say no?

“I hate you too, don’t worry,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head toward him, your back pressed against his chest. “I’m using you, baby. Only to pass the time, only to get her off my mind. You are simply a toy, that’s all.”

“You think she’s ever gonna come back?” you mocked, head slightly turning so your eyes could meet his, which had soon turned into a glare directed at you, “I can’t be a placeholder for someone who’s not coming back.”

“Shut the fuck up, toy,” he growled, upper lip twitching as he pushed you back down onto the table, pressing his palm to the center of your back to hold you there as the other gripped your hip tightly, his thrusts becoming harder yet sloppier. 

He was beyond enraged by your comments, and the movements of his own hips against your poor body really showed that. You were a whimpering and crying mess as soon as he became angry with you, almost making you want to sob out an apology, but you wouldn’t degrade yourself so much as to actually apologize to him, it’s bad enough you were letting him fuck you.

“I think you’re gonna make a good cumdump from now on,” he moaned loudly, his moans echoing throughout the rest of the kitchen. “I’ll use you however I please.”

“Scr-screw y-you,” you whined, continuing to be a little bitch to him, not realizing where it gets you. 

He groaned as he continued thrusting himself into you, head falling back as he smacked your ass again at your words. You squealed and dipped your head down against the table, burying your forehead into your arms. Your bodies colliding rocked the entire table, the sound of its creaking spread through the room.

Soon enough, he had let loose strands of cum inside you, feeling his hot liquid fill your insides as loud moans flew out of his mouth, desperate and frantic cries falling out of you, your release also shaking your body, cum seeping out around his cock. 

“Shit, maybe we should do this more often,” he’d say only as he’s rebuttoning his pants and you’re fixing your dress, wiping your mouth of the drool that poured out of the corners of your lips, patting away the dried tears coating your flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes and stormed out of his house, ‘hoping’ you’d never see him again, but knowing damn well you’d cave and show up to his place the following night, all for a round two…

[mysticficti0n]

hi bb, could you do a sad/fluff between 2023tom and his old school crush please but make it happy at the end? (but he's not with Heidi, just him and Bill are doing something like met gala or red carpet)

I know I haven't really given a great explication but you can write fucking amazingly so I don't think you'll struggle

love ya

okay this is such a cute idea! literally in love so ofc I'll do it!

(all my attention will be back soon but I'm taking time to do some request as I have so many and all you guys have such good ideas!)

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

Meant to meet again...

warnings- none

words- 1.2k

(also I am so so so so sorry Gustav and Georg aren't in this I couldn't think how to incorporate them but they're mentioned!)

Y/n stood on the carpet watching actors, actresses, models, musicians be snapped thousands of times, she'd interviewed over 20 people by this point but just kept getting the same old boring replies "oh were so lucky to be here" and the fake laughs, it's what you get being a interviewer- fakes

the sea of photographers seemed to switch direction, facing down to the entrance, Y/n walked forward from her place peering down the carpet and two tall, shaggy haired men stood there but she couldn't figure out who it was "BILL BILL! THIS WAY- TOM TURN THIS WAY TOM" it clicked- Bill and Tom Kaulitz. she'd forgotten about the twins from when they left school, she knew the twins so well back then, best friends really, sharing lessons together and always laughing and skipping lessons they didn't like, hiding in cupboards when teachers called their names down the halls

Y/n straightened her dress while seeing the twins climb the stairs and she couldn't help but get a giddy feeling as they walked towards her, they both looked so different to how she remembered- Bill had black spiky hair and Tom had dreads that he'd constantly mess with when he was bored in class "Hi!" Bill started coming into shot of the camera so that her team could start filming

"hey! How are you two?" she asked grabbing the pair microphones

"good good, you?" Tom had a look across his face the girl couldn't really understand but she smiled to him none the less

"very well- enjoying the night and speaking to everyone! so if you wouldn't mind I'll introduce you and ask only a few questions then let you go because I don't doubt theirs about 100 more people who'll want you after me!" she laughed to the two now men, not boys she used to know

"I've herd that a few times" Tom joked getting a shove from his brother "what! it was funny"

"okay ready to start?" she asked turning back to the two who nodded "okay- roll... Good evening everyone, I'm Y/n Y/l/n from CBQ News and tonight I'm here with Bill and Tom Kaulitz, how are you-"

"Oh my god! I knew it was you!" Tom had wide eyes and mouth agape looking to the girl, he knew he recognised her, her eyes, her nose, her smile, her everything he knew he knew it from somewhere

"holy sh- Y/n!" Bill covered his mouth as the girl laughed nodding "you look beautiful oh- I'm sorry were ruining the interview but we haven't seen you in like nearly 20 years!" he spoke to the camera then looking back to the girl

"I know you left school when I think- yeah I was 15 and you two had just turned 16" they nodded still staring at her, Tom couldn't help but remember what he thought of her all those years ago- Y/n was his school crush from when they were 7 to 17 years old, yes 17- though he never saw her when they left he still thought about her all the time and looked back on the picture the two took the day they we're leaving, she was smiling with her arms around his neck, hugging him. Sometimes he missed school- not the bullying or the stares but the times in class were they'd just burst out laughing until they felt sick "so- back onto the interview" she laughed "who're you two wearing tonight?"

the boys gave their answers, making remarks and laughing as they all watched someone fall up the stairs but Tom still couldn't get over Y/n, she looked even more gorgeous, her hair perfectly fitted to her face, her dress looked so good on her though it had been so long- his feeling were trickling back in "can I say, you look great Y/n- not even great, amazing tonight" a blush painted her face and Bill looked toward his brother, the memories came back of the nights him and Tom would be sat talking about if he was going to finally ask out Y/n but every year he made an excuse, he was planning on asking her to prom but they left before it happened and she ended up going alone, thats what Tom's friends said anways-but god does he wish he just took the plunge

"aw thank you! you two the first to actually say something about me tonight" a smile came across her face

"we'll they're arseholes, you're one of the best dressed here!" Bill laughed

"god you two stop its giving me an ego!, anyways thank you so much for this- its great seeing you again after so long" she and Bill met in a hug, he'd missed these, giving her a kiss on her cheek before Tom pulled her away into his arms, her hands went around his neck, his head resting on her shoulder and hers lay in his chest- just like the photo "thank you- its been amazing seeing you" she spoke to Tom quiet enough for the mic's not to pick it up, pulling away from the hug they still kept their arms on each other. Bill knew that Tom was probably going to be talking about this hug for the next week but he didn't mind- he knew what It meant to him

"I've missed you Y/n..." she nodded trying to hold the tears back, she didn't realise how nice it felt to be with them again and just being in their arms- especially Toms- would make her so emotional

"me too..." she breathed

"god you're going to make me cry- stop Y/n" Bill chuckled blinking up trying to discard the tears, Tom still stood with the girl unable to pull from her

"okay- hm, well you two- I hope you have an amazing night and maybe I'll see you in another 20 years?" the three laughed, but Tom wasn't about to wait another 20 years to see her again, he couldn't

"hope so!"

"aaannnd cut-" the camera man called and the three breathed, she took the mics back and thanked the pair again, when other interviewers realised that they'd finished Bill and Tom's name bounced around again

"have a good night guys, I wont hold you up anymore" she sadly grinned rubbing Bills shoulder feeling a weird pain in her chest- like she was saying good bye again

"ugh I'd much rather stay with you but, we both know what these things are like" Bill gave her one last hug, squeezing her tightly and saying thanks once more before he was dragged by someone she didn't even see but he was gone and only her and Tom stood there

"guess I need to say bye to you too hm?" the two shared a laugh

"yeah.. yeah" Tom couldn't let his nervousness get the best of him this time, he knew if he didn't say anything he'd regret if for how many more years went by before he saw her again "I- I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna grab drinks one of the nights? or even tonight if you can do you want to sit with us- Gustav and Georg will be at the after party thing- it's fine if not of course I'm guessing you've already got a table with some people and-" the guitarist rambled on making the girl infront of him giggle

"I'd love to go get drinks with you Tom- and also sit with you all tonight" he felt like he had gone back to being 16 for a second as the words left her mouth "so I'll meet you by the doors at say, 9?"

"Yeah 9 works, okay!- I better go so" he hugged her again pressing a kiss to the top of her head "bye!" she waved to the man who was smiling so widely it hurt

[bree-cheesy]

Forbidden Pleasure

Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

A/N: So here I am with another fic after like almost a month. Sorry y'all. I get excited to write for like a week then don't want to for a month. Hope I make up for my absence. And I hope you guys like the fic. Took me a lot of effort to make honestly.

SIDE NOTE: Messed something up so I had to delete and repost! Sorry!!

Credit to @nowadayz for the gif

Warnings: SMUT 18+!!! Minors just go away. (dirty talk, mutual pining, intense kissing, slight sub and dom themes but only if you squint, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming mentions, finger sucking.) Some fluff, co-star friends to lovers, not very plot heavy, reader and Joseph practice kissing for a scene. No use of Y/N. Think that's it. It's not proof read either.

Word Count: 2093

______________________________________________________________

Joseph was your costar. You both were starring in a romance movie about two ex lovers. They were separated when they went to college and recently ran into each other when your character got a new job in the character’s old town. It was pretty cliche, but it was your first film you were starring in so you were excited. Joseph played the love interest. It was your first film where you had to act out a sex scene. You were so unprepared. It’s not like you’ve never been with someone intimately, but acting a sex scene was so much different then actually having sex.

Joseph was nothing, but kind to you about the whole thing. He knew you were nervous about it and was super supportive. He was nervous himself because he was too afraid to admit he was attracted to you. He was head over heels for you almost. He wanted to make the whole scene perfect for you because he had a small amount of hope something would happen between you both. He would have to wait to say anything until filming was ended because you both could be kicked from the movie. He didn’t want that for you.

You were in your trailer, preparing for the scene. It was only you and Joseph and the filming crew on set that day, but you were still nervous. What if you were bad at it? What if you forgot to brush your teeth beforehand? Thoughts were zooming through your head so bad that you almost missed the knock on your trailer door. You got up and opened the door. Joseph was standing there.

“Oh, hey Joe.” You let him in and shut the door behind him. Your palms felt sweaty around him. He was hard to be around. It was almost intimidating.

“Hey, just thought I’d check on you before the scene. See how you’re feeling.” Joseph ran his hand through his hair and gave you a weak smile. Even if the smile was fake, it was still beautiful. God, that smile. It was something you saw in your mind at almost every waking moment. Completely tormenting you all day every day. Everything about it was perfect. Not to mention his eyes. Goddamn he was just a beautiful man. “Hey, you there?”

You shook out of your thoughts and looked up at him, gulping nervously. “Yeah, yeah. I’m nervous honestly.” You walked back to the desk you were at and sat down. “Scared I’ll do bad. Haven’t really had very many praises on my kissing skill in my life.” Joseph looked at you confused. You shook your head. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”

Joseph sat down on your couch in the corner, sitting back and manspreading in a way that made chills go down your spine. You usually hated when men did that. Why is it so attractive when he does it? “I understand. I haven’t necessarily had complaints about my skills, but it’s different in front of a camera. Always a little nerve wracking.” He smiled at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Especially when the girl you’re kissing is pretty.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes, peeking at the time on your phone. “It’s no secret that people don’t want me to do this movie. There have been complaints since before we started filming. One little mess up and I’m fucked, Joe.” You groaned and held your head in your hands. Joseph rolled his eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that. You’re gonna do fine.” Joseph looked at you, an idea suddenly crossing his mind. It was a stretch so he was scared to even ask the question, but you looked desperate. “Uhm, we could practice.” You looked up at him confused. Practice? Practice what? Fake sex?

“Practice?” You asked, still terribly confused.

“Yeah, like practice kissing or something. Like, if you’re so worried you’ll mess it up, we can practice to see how we work together.” He shrugged and sat forward a little. “In my opinion, it’s worth a shot.”

You bit your lip nervously, your cheeks heating up. Kissing Joe out of character? What was he thinking? This is dangerous. Who knows what would happen between you two? The attraction between you two was undeniable. The kiss could spark something dangerous. Something forbidden. “A-Are you sure?” Your voice was meek and shaky.

He nodded and stood up. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. Not gonna force you to do it.” He held his hand out and you took it, standing up in front of him. “Look, you set the pace. If that means I don’t touch you, or if there's no tongue, I don’t care. All up to you. I want you to be comfortable.” He looked so kind and gentle. You are lost now. Unable to let the chance of feeling his lips not in front of a camera pass up. It was a need. Not a want. A need. A need clawing at your insides that was getting almost too much to handle.

“U-Uhm, okay.” you gulped nervously and he smiled.

“Okay, what’s the rules then, m’lady.” He held his hands out like one of those wooden dummies you’d draw. “Guide my hands wherever.” You pouted a little and gently took his hands, putting them on your waist. Seemed like a secure spot. He’d have a grip on you in case the kissing was just too much and you passed out.

His hands flexed against your waist, aching to slide under your t-shirt so he could feel your skin. He needed more, but he was going to stay true to his word. The pace of this was up to you. He looked down at you with such patience that it almost made you melt into a puddle at his feet. You usually were not the kind to want to bend at every command a man gave, but for him, you’d do almost anything. His head went down a little, just to get closer so it wasn’t awkward trying to start the kiss. His breath gently fanned against your lips. It smelled minty with a slight hint of cigarettes. It was sinful.

Gently, you pressed your lips to his. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your waist and you stepped closer. Mentally cursing at yourself for kissing like a scared teenager, you deepened it ever so slightly. Both your eyes fluttered shut, noses bumping a little. He couldn’t stop himself. Your lips were just too soft. He needed more. He pressed his lips harder against yours and you let out a soft whimper, pressing more against him. He wouldn’t go too far. Not unless you did. He felt your tongue gently swipe his bottom lip and he opened on a sigh, hugging his arms around your waist.

Reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck, the kiss turned sloppy. Hot and wet. Teeth clashing. It was primal. A need deep down in the both of coming out after one simple kiss. You moaned into his mouth when he pressed you up against the wall, slotting his mouth hard over yours. You were so fucked. So absolutely mega fucked. He tasted like pure sin. Better than anything you could’ve imagined.

His hands went down to your ass and squeezed softly, groaning and slotting his thigh between your legs, making your knees buckle and fall into him. His hands went down your belly and roughly unbuttoned your jeans. You wiggled your hips slightly as he stuck his hand inside, welcoming the gesture with open arms. His fingers slid to your aching pussy which was now completely soaked. It always was when you thought about him.

“Fuck… so wet…” Joseph groaned into your mouth and moved down to kiss your neck. His fingers found your clit in record time and you moaned a little louder than intended. Just as he was about to go further, your phone rang. He gasped and pulled away. You scrambled to grab the phone and looked at the contact. It was the producer. He was calling you to get ready for the scene. Joseph fixed his clothes and you hastily buttoned your pants back up. No words were spoken between you two and you both awkwardly walked to hair and makeup.

--2 hours later--

The tension was sizzling between you two after the scene. Everyone could tell, but no one was going to say anything. As you got back to your apartment that night, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Joe. You bit your lip nervously and looked at it.

Joey: You better open your front door.

Confused, you opened it and were met with Joseph standing there, out of breath and holding onto the doorframe. Before you could get a word in, he rushed at you, kissing you with such urgency you'd 've been convinced the world was ending. You weren’t going to stop it, though. His hands ripped your shirt and pants off before picking you up and carrying you to the couch. Your ass landed in his lap facing away from him. You took a deep and much needed breath. You hadn’t really gotten one since he tackled you.

He kissed your neck while you shimmed your panties down your legs. His hand went between your thigh and he groaned into your ear. “God, the most perfect pussy…” His middle and ring finger slipped through your soaking folds making you whine and squirm in his lap. He lightly slapped your thigh. “Be a good girl and hold still.”

You nodded and whimpered softly, lolling your head back against his shoulder. He gently rubbed your clit, whispering dirty nothings in your ear, slowly making you come undone. You felt his hard on growing under your ass, making it so hard to not wiggle against it. His fingers were so gentle and talented. Your body quivered against his chest, breath coming out in hard pants. “Joseph… I need.. please!” You whimpered, feeling yourself getting close.

“Cum for me, baby… I want to see it.” he slipped his middle finger inside your pussy, his thumb working against your clit in time with his finger’s thrusts. You felt yourself squeeze around his fingers, Joseph whispering encouragements into your ear. Finally, you cried out and came hard around his finger. He pulled his finger out and pressed it against your lips. You sucked on it obediently, wanting to please him. He reached down between you two and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his aching cock out.

“Joseph… please….” You whined, wiggling against his cock. You just wanted him inside you. He wouldn’t even have to move, just put it inside you and let you warm his cock. Anything for him. He gently lowered you onto his cock, stretching you out so good. It was a little painful, but it felt so good at the same time. It was a forbidden feeling running through your whole body. Without even thinking, you started bouncing on his cock. It wasn’t even something you knew you were doing.

He grabbed your hips and helped you up and down his cock, grunting and groaning. Your moans echoed through your apartment, a beautiful song only you two would be able to make. You pressed your palms on his knees and rode him harder, whining and moaning, your eyes shutting at his tip pressed against the spot inside you that made you weak.

“That’s it, baby. Use my cock… Use it, baby…” Joseph slapped your ass, making you yelp and go faster, chasing the release you so desperately needed. Joseph moved his hips up against yours, meeting your thrusts and driving you wild. He felt your pussy walls clench around his cock and gritted his teeth. “S-So tight…” Joseph stuttered out.

“I-I’m gonna cum, Joe-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before cumming hard for the second time. Joseph groaned and felt his release snap, filling you up. You fell back against his chest, your breath coming out shaky and hard. Your eyes shut and your hand went back to behind his head, snaking your fingers through his curls. He breathed heavily and gently lifted you off his cock, setting you back down on his lap, too tired to get up. Turning his arms, you snuggled into his chest and fell asleep. He just hugged you close and shut his eyes.

It was a forbidden thing for the two of you. No one would know until they had to. Forbidden, but so amazing. Forbidden pleasure.