#so to make my brain wind down i wrote this

[solacium]

presence // aventurine

he'll never outrightly ask you what it is, not at the outset.

he might find you curled on the couch, quiet, trying to breathe out the something in your chest that writhes and constricts, or in tears, but he won't ask, only sit quietly with you, lean against you, the weight of him enough to reassure you of his presence. maybe you reach for him, curl into the hollow of his body, and he'll let you, hold you until the tears stop, or you can feel your hands again, or you fall asleep, to the steady rhythm of his heart.

you'll wake, or look at him, and he'll speak, then, maybe look back at you with those iridescent eyes that you love, as he asks, softly, if you're feeling better, if you want to talk about it.

he'll keep you company, either way, listening. there is a steadiness in the weight of his arms around you, in the even beat of his heart against your back. you'll have to move, eventually, one of your legs falling asleep under you, and you'll both laugh, and shift. he gently disentangles himself from you, to get you something to drink. you settle back down, curled around each other, talk quietly until the sunlight changes.

[nereidprinc3ss]

omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!

AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too

i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)

spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine

Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 

It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 

“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 

“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 

“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 

“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 

“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 

Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 

“You--are you driving here right now?” 

“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 

Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 

“Of course, I want to.” 

“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 

You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 

“Drive faster.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 

“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 

“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 

As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 

“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 

Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 

“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 

“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 

He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 

“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 

“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 

Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 

“I told you it was bad.” 

You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 

Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 

“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  

“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  

There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 

“How do you think your final went?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 

“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 

“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 

“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” 

The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 

“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 

“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 

“Yes!” 

“Don't lie to me.” 

“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  

He squeezes your hand. 

“That’s why you failed.” 

The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 

“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 

“I know, baby.” 

His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 

A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 

“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 

“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 

It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  

After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 

“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 

“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 

“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 

“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Pretty please?” 

“Nope.” 

“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  

He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 

You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 

“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 

You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 

“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 

[emeritusemeritus]

I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour. 

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head.  His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink.  Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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[azrielwingspan]

'SOMEONE' (AZRIEL X READER)- PART 2

Summary: You are convinced that Azriel was the one to send the note. Anxious about facing him, you lose yourself in your head but strangely, things are turning out...weird.

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: Thankyou so much for the response on the first part you guys! It was supposed to be a one shot but due to popular demand, I wrote down a second. Not gonna lie, I'm a bit nervous about this because peer pressure haha. Really hope this meets expectations. Did my best to make it fun and playful.

Read Part-1 here.

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

'It's hard not to pry when you're involved.' The words kept flitting through your mind , jumbling your thoughts and stirring up a butterfly party in your stomach.

You knew it was from Azriel. Who else could it be ? Not believing it at first, you tried to think of all other possibilities and came up with zero. No else could possibly know about it.

Except him.

After stewing upon the unexpected turn of events for a good couple of hours, you did something anyone else in your position would've done.

You tried to hide.

From a spymaster.

You were really setting standards in the department of intelligence.

It had all started when you were having lunch with Cass and Mor at the House of Wind. "How was your new book?" Mor asked stuffing herself with the mashed potato in front of her. "It was alright. It just felt a little flat." you stabbed at the piece of chicken on your plate.

"Why the gloomy face? Everything okay?" Cass looked at your face intently. You sat up a little straighter, forcing a small smile onto your face. "I'm great."

"Are you on something?" Your head shot towards Mor, a flabbergasted look on your face.

"What made you say that?"

"You've been acting weird since yesterday and just this morning you stared off into space with a stupid smile on your face. Now, you're gloomy. I've seen this before--"

"Oh for Mother's sake, I'm not on anything Mor." A choked laugh burst out of you at the incredulity of it.

"Is it because of the stable boy thing yesterday? Shit Y/N, we didn't know you still --"

You narrowed your eyes at Cass , daring him to finish that statement. He immediately backed off, putting up his hands in the air.

"Just a concerned friend." He said with a teasing smile.

"You guys are the worst." Soft laughter was shared between the three of you before disaster struck.

Footsteps echoed from the stairwell making your head whip towards it. Eyes widening a fraction, your brain was thrown into a whirlpool of thoughts , each one fighting for dominance over the other. You knew with absolute certainty that it was him. There was no one else in the house. You also knew the sound of his footsteps but that was a fact to be pondered upon on a different day.

Wait, he was a spymaster. Why was he making a sound in the first place?

He wants you to know. Doesn't want to catch you off guard. The still functioning part of your brain helps you out.

"Are you having a seizure?" Mor's voice registered in your head.

"No , but I might." you muttered under your breath, your body reacting before your mind could give it a command. Almost stumbling from your chair all the while trying to look as unbothered as possible, you excused yourself from the table mumbling a reason to your companions.

Exit points available. The stairwell. Your mind supplied. YOU CAN'T PASS BY HIM. DO BETTER.

The plant. - THE PLANT ?! What were you supposed to do ? Photosynthesize yourself ?!

Under the table.- Ah yes. Have a front row view to his crotch. Way to go.

Balcony.- We don't have WINGS! You screamed at yourself.

The door to your right.- Finally. A good option.

Your face must have exhibited a plethora of emotions during the internalized battle with yourself because Mor and Cass were staring at you like you had two heads.

"Y/N. Please sit down. Something is seriously wrong." Cass said rising from his chair.

"No. No. I just forgot to do something very very important. I'm going to be screwed. I just need to---"

"Have lunch. I'll help you out with whatever it is." The voice like night whispered over your skin setting off goosebumps in its wake. His scent enveloped you, taunting and teasing your senses. It almost seemed to whisper- Look at me.

So you did.

You had expected a smirk or a smile or even a twinkle in his eye. Nothing. No hint or trace of what had happened. No clue to suggest that he knew or that he was the one to send the note.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn't him but someone else playing a joke on you?

"No it's alright. I..." You didn't get to finish the sentence as he pulled your chair back and motioned for you to sit down.

Sighing out loud you returned to your place at the table trying not to look at Azriel as he took the seat across. "What did you forget?" Cass was starting to sound suspicious. Racking your brain for a quick and believable answer, you blurted out "I have to respond to a letter. A very important one."

The double meaning of your reply hit you the moment it left your mouth. Your body betrayed you and turned your gaze towards Azriel.

Nothing. Blank as a slate.

Starting to grow frustrated, you stabbed into your chicken a little too enthusiastically.

"It's already dead." Azriel said dryly, not even bothering to look up from his food.

Mor let out a snort and thankfully started to recall a conversation she had with a friend of hers. You could feel the tension leave your body as the conversation and attention was steered away from you.

Get your shit together.

Fortunately, all of you were done eating not long after and everyone went back to their duties. Azriel hadn't said or done anything for the rest of the afternoon and you were seriously starting to doubt if you were wrong.

You made your way back to your room trying to make sense of your emotions along the way. There was a sense of relief that Azriel didn't know and yet it was tinged with the undertones of disappointment that he didn't know after all.

Did you want him to know or did you not?

You didn't know. UGH. Idiot.

Stepping into your room, you almost missed the note that caught under your foot.

Fuck. Another one.

Heart thudding painfully, you picked it up with trembling hands. It read:

Anyone is capable of falling in love with your heart. Me? I want to be the someone you give it to. -'Someone'

A/N: I did not intend to end it this way at all but here we areeee. Hope you guys enjoyed it !

TAGLIST : @crazylokonugget , @hayrunnwr , @fxckmiup , @wildlyobserving , @harrystylesfan2686 , @63angel , @charlotteintumbleland , @willowpains , @nyx-the-alien , @acourtofbatboydreams , @marina468 , @anuttellaa , @kalulakunundrum , @amygdtjhddzvb , @lulu22156

[afictionalwhor3]

Mrs. Serensin

A/N: Back again from the dead lol. College is kicking my ass I cannot even lie. Also, I've been pissed at the lack of diversity in fandoms/fan fics until I realized I can literally change that lol so here's my take enjoy. One shot, I wrote wherever the wind took me.

Dad!Jake Serensin x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, established relationship, fluff (Jake and reader being domestic and in love), only minorly proofread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't the warm sun on your skin that woke you up. Or even the usual patter of feet and knocking at your door that pulled you abruptly from sleep. It was the feeling of soft lips on your skin. Feather light and if you didn't focus you might've missed them. You stirred softly looking over your shoulder as Jake looked back at you with those gorgeous green eyes you fell in love with so many years ago.

"Morning Mrs. Serensin" He says with that famous boyish grin on his face as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"Morning" You mumble wiping your eyes after you kiss him back. "What time is it? Where are the kids?" You asked him. In seemingly no rush Jake went back to his previous role applying warm kisses to the column on your throat and along your shoulder. As much as you wanted to enjoy the moment you couldn't help but anticipate the screaming of children.

"Relax... kids are still sleeping. It's pretty early. It's just me and you darling" He says and some of his Texas drawl slips out making you smile. You lay on your back to properly look at him your hands tracing over his exposed chest down to his defined stomach. His ability to keep up with his physique while parenting three kids always ceased to amaze you. Jake smirks down at you putting his hands on your hips and giving them a squeeze.

"So are you telling me Mr. Serensin that I have you all to myself for the unforseeable future?" You ask smiling at him as he leans in close to you.

"You do Mrs. Serensin. But I don't know for how long so I plan on making the most of it," He says pressing his lips to yours passionately as you wrap your legs around his waist. After your third child, you were scared that yours and Jake's sex life would die down, or maybe he wouldn't even find you attractive anymore. Boy, you couldn't be further from the truth. You could swear that after each kid Jake only began to worship you more.

"You're gorgeous. Always so pretty" Jake whispers to himself when he pulls away from your lip to kiss at your jaw. He then quickly gets rid of his old navy shirt you had on. Slipping a finger up your slit smirking as you whimper. "Always so wet for me mama. I love it." He says pressing his lips to yours again as he slides a finger into your pussy making you moan.

"Jake please. I need you so bad. No teasing please," You beg. The nagging feeling of getting caught lingering at the back of your brain and you don't know what you'd with yourself if this moment between you two was interrupted. Jake slides another finger into you curling them just right to make your eyes roll back as you grab his wrist.

"There you go baby. I got ya. Always gotta make sure you're ready for me." Jake says pressing kisses to your collarbone as he gently pulls his fingers out and takes off his boxers. He guides himself up to your slit teasing you briefly before slowly sliding himself inside your heat both of you letting out breaths of pleasure. "Fuck you're always so tight for me mama. Three kids and you're still tight as the first night we met" Jake breathes into your neck.

One of the many things you loved about sex with Jake was how he wasn't scared to be vocal. You loved all the filthy things he would tell you as he fucked you into oblivion. No matter how many times the two of you had sex it would never get old. And this time was no different as he began thrusting in and out of you, "Yes Jake. Right there baby" You moan your hands finding his back as your nails dig gently into his flesh.

"Pussy's always ready for me. Always ready to take me. Ain't that right baby?" Jake asks as you nod. Usually, he loves to take his time with you, always wanting to make you cum before he even thinks about pleasuring himself. Unfortuantely this morning he didn't have that luxury and there is no way he would pass up an opportunity to watch you lose yourself on his cock. He sits up putting one leg over his shoulder and after a couple of hard thrusts he watches your jaw go slack and your eyes roll back. "There we go mama. There's the spot I was looking for. Feels so good doesn't it baby?"

All you can give him is moan after moan as you spiral deeper and deeper into pleasure. Jake realizes you losing your volume control and presses his lips to yours. "So loud for me. Love when you vocalize how good I'm fucking you baby" He whispers against your lips.

"Jake you're fucking me too good. Don't stop baby and I'll cum. Gonna cum all over your cock" You moan locking eyes with him. Now it is Jake's turn to get lost in your big brown eyes. The same ones he saw everytime he looked at your children.

"Gonna make a mess on my cock baby? Go ahead. Cum for me, I got you" He instructs as he slips a hand in between your body and begins to toy with your clit. That is the final straw for you as you bite softly into his shoulder to control your moans of pleasure. The spasming of your orgasm around Jake's cock has him cumming only a few strokes after you "Fuck baby I'm stuffing your pussy Oh god!" He moans into your ear before relaxing against your body.

You both lay in post orgasmic haze for what feels like forever "We should probably get ourselves together sometime soon before we end up having the birds and the bees conversation a lot sooner than we planned," Jake says making you smile. You run your hands through his hair a few times always trying to maximize the alone time you two shared,

"I guess you have a point there" You say as he smiles looking at you and kissing you "You are the love of my life Mrs. Serensin" He says before slowly pulling out of you as you whimper at the loss of contact. He stands up getting a warm cloth to clean you up with before he uses it for himself. After he does so you stand up so you can start getting ready for the day. You walk over to your closet finding clothes to put on after your quick shower. As you do so you hear Jake whistle behind you making you look over your shoulder,

"Looking good has always Mrs. Serensin. Do you know that everyday we are together you get sexier?" Jake asks as you roll your eyes and go back to the task at your hand biting your lip to hide your smile. You grab a towel before looking at him again,

"You know you don't have to sweet talk me anymore? We're married you know I'll give it to you whenever you want. Also I have a name outside of Mrs. Serensin" You say rhetorically loving that he calls you that all the time and never stops trying to woo you like the days he asked for your number.

"You know better than anyone I love the chase. As long as I'm on earth I'll spend that time hitting on you. You're too hot not to. And if I wanted to call you by your name I wouldn't of married you." He says as you continue to hide your smile from him and walk towards the bathroom. Before he can even ask you say, "No Mr. Serensin you cannot join," you smile as you see him fake pout out of the corner of your eye.

~

"They have the little festival thing in the park we could take them to. Wyatt and Cam loved it last year with the face painting and the balloon animals." You say as you and Jake finish getting dressed for the day almost ready to wake the kids up. Jake walks over slapping your bum gently before wrapping his arms around you.

"Whenever you tell me to go Mrs. Serensin is where I'll be" He says as you roll your eyes. He buries his head in crevice of your neck enjoying the fresh smell of vanilla that is so uniquely you he can smell it wherever he goes.

"Well there's also-" You start before both you and Jake hear a loud crash from downstairs. Both looking scared you race out of your room and downstairs. Jake keeps you behind him the whole time as you walk into the kitchen and see your three children covered in some kind of mix and eggs. Both of your jaws hanging open.

"We wanted to surprise you and make you guys pancakes" Your oldest Wyatt says as you sigh taking a deep breath as you see Jake try to refrain himself from laughing. You hit him lightly in the arm as you get closer to your babies.

"That is so sweet of you guys but next time you can get one of us and we will help you. Just to make sure no one gets hurt." You say picking up your youngest, your little girl Julia as she smiles that big toothy grin at you. "Surprise!!" she says holding her arms out as you hold her at an arms length laughing softly.

"How about daddy helps you guys get cleaned up and dressed for the day while I clean this mess up. After that we will all get breakfast and if you're good go to the park." You say as they all clap in unison. Wyatt and Cam make a dash past Jake racing to the bathroom as you walk over to him putting Julia in his arms.

"Get to cleaning Daddy. There's a lot of work to do" You smile giving him a kiss as Julia cuddles into him leaving Jake stunned and just as dirty now. Yet he can't help but smile at you, then his little girl, and at the life he currently as. Despite the egg yolk on his shirt, and the mess that he can already hear happening in the upstairs bathroom, he swears he wouldn't change his life for anything.

[carooosa]

Enchanting Distractions

Summary: Tav (reader) has ADHD/is bad at setting boundaries when it comes to their party members. Astarion comforts them.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: Semi-canon compliant, takes place after the tiefling party and literally right before entering Act 2. I barely proofread it so sorry in advance. I was feeling particularly upset at myself today and so this is what I wrote up.

The days had been starting to blur together as you made your way through the mountain pass. Tomorrow your party would step into the shadow-cursed lands, so it was decided to set up camp early for the night to ensure that everyone was well-rested and prepared. Tension ran through the camp, everyone on edge with the possibility of finding the cause of the tadpoles. Whatever happens tomorrow could very well be the end of your journey.

As everyone set up their tents, you began to look through your supplies, separating potions, arrows, and scrolls into piles to give to your companions. While organizing everything, the sound of Lae’zel and Shadowheart bickering caused you to lift your head. They had never gotten along since the beginning of this tadpole mess but after the Githyanki Creche their hatred for each other seemed to amplify.

“I would say that I’m surprised that machine was unable to get rid of the tadpoles, but then again, I wouldn’t expect gith to know what they were doing,” Shadowheart had taunted Lae’zel.

“The zaith'isk was tampered with! Githyanki technology is far beyond your understanding, and if you had something other than a tadpole in your brain, you would realize the mistake in your words,” Lae’zel shot back. She turned to herself before saying, “Useless istik, mindlessly following a false god”

“What did you just say?” Shadowheart said as she readied herself to attack.

“Your ‘goddess’ ordered you to steal a precious artifact from my people, and yet knowing that does not change your unwavering belief. A goblin has more integrity than you,” Lae’zel said as she continued to walk away.

“Shar is a real goddess, unlike the githyanki’s petty attempt at a goddess, Vlaakith,” Shadowheart yells as she begins to sprint toward Lae’zel. The fighter had already pulled out her sword and the clashing of metal rang through the air. You sighed, standing up from the mess that laid out before you, and ran towards the fight. Before you could intervene, Karlach had taken her great axe and held it out in between the two aggressors before berating them.

“For fuck’s sake guys, the whole point of setting up camp early was to rest for tomorrow, not argue and waste our energy on dumb fights.” As Karlach said this, Shadowheart cast gust of wind to push her opponent back, accidentally hitting Karlach in the crossfire. She had succeeded at causing Lae’zel to lose her grip on her sword but had caused that sword to slash into Karlach’s leg. The tiefling groaned as she kneeled to the ground, clutching her thigh.

You ran back to your bag and turned it upside down, dumping all the contents onto the piles you had started to make earlier, and rummaged through your items until you found a healing potion and some fire-resistant bandages. When you ran over to Karlach to heal her, Wyll was already yelling at the two women who had caused an unnecessary injury.

“Your recklessness has caused this bloodshed!” he sounded exasperated as you handed Karlach the potion, unraveling the bandages and starting to dress her wound, careful to not burn yourself in the process. “You both are distracted by your own prejudices and disdain for each other that the thought you may be hurting others in the process never crossed your minds. So caught up in yourselves, you have yet to see the irony of the words you throw at each other.”

Wyll continued his lecture as you focus on Karlach, watching her toss aside the empty potion bottle. “Thanks, soldier,” she says with a weak smile. She pushes herself off of the ground, causing Wyll to pause his lecture and rush to her side. “I’m fine, just gonna head to bed early,” she says while sidestepping past him.

You take a breath and start to think of how to address the situation that just happened when suddenly, Gale is by your side, anxiously fumbling with his hands. Realization overcame you and you tried to recall the last time you had given the wizard an enchanted item to consume the magic from. 

“I know now might not be the best time,” he starts, “but there really never is a good time nowadays, is there?” he finishes with a chuckle to himself.

“I should have an enchanted ring in my bag—“ you stop when you glance back at your backpack, contents strewn across the ground.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Gale says quickly. “Dinner isn’t going to cook itself!” He makes his way to his tent and you drag your feet back to your backpack, dreading the mess you’ll have to clean up. Sifting through the items, you create another pile of the things you already looked through. Focused on organizing, you don’t hear Astarion sneak up on you.

“My my, these are quite the… piles you have here,” he says while crouching down across from you. “What’s with all these arrows and grenades? Have you decided to try your hand in ranged combat? Because if so,” he pauses, crimson red eyes staring into your soul, “I’d be more than happy to give you some private lessons.” He bares his teeth, his fangs glistening. You’re tempted to take him up on the offer before you remember why you got those items in the first place.

“Oh, those aren’t for me. I’ve been picking up stuff here and there, and I figured before heading out tomorrow I’d give some to everyone. I was actually organizing everything,” you say, completely forgetting that you were looking for a ring, “and I was going to try and figure out what would be best for everyone to have, but since you’re here, you can pick whatever you want.”

“I can choose anything here?” Astarion asks with a smirk. You nod your head and he responds by picking up your hand and giving it a kiss on the palm, “Then I pick you, my dear.”

Your cheeks flush red as you stutter out a response. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Astarion had been teasing you a lot more lately, and while you didn’t mind, it had proven to be an extra distraction. 

He chuckled at your pout, caressing your face with his other hand, his thumb pressing down on your lower lip. You both stare at each other for a moment, before he sighs and brings his hands back to his side. “Well, if I can’t have you I guess I need to figure something else out.” He scans over the pile and picks up a necklace.

“Wait, not that,” you say while snatching the jewelry away from him. “That can restore one of Shadowheart’s spells, I should go give that to her.” You stand up and run off to find the cleric, not noticing the disgruntled look Astarion has on his face. He sighs and looks down at the clutter, beginning to sift through the items.

While making your way to Shadowheart’s tent, you hear Halsin comfort a whining Scratch. “There, there, I’m sure we will retreive it soon enough,” the druid says while gently petting the dog. “Ah, Tav, could I bother you for a moment? Scratch seems to have lost his ball in a burrow and neither of us can reach it. Would mind seeing if you can grab it?”

Scratch runs up to you and paces around you in circles before you lean down to him, “Of course I’ll help you out, buddy.” Without thinking, you set the necklace on a nearby rock, crouching down to the burrow and searching for the ball. In the shadows you spot it, deep inside the tunnel, and you reach your arm in. 

Your fingers are barely able to reach the toy, and you’re about to maneuver the ball out when Gale speaks. “Tav, I’m terribly sorry to ask again, but were you able to find the enchanted ring perchance?” The ball rolls out of your grasp, and you let out a long sigh before retracting your arm.

“Sorry, Gale, I got distracted. As soon as I get this ball out for Scratch I’ll go and get it for you.” Content with that answer he nods and walks off. Reaching your hand back into the hole, you push yourself against the ground, the extra leverage closing the distance between your hand and the toy. You let out a breath before throwing the ball, Scratch bounding after it.

“Thank you, Tav!” Halsin says as he runs after the dog.

Walking back to where Astarion sits rummaging through your things, Wyll interrupts you. “Tav, do you by chance have a fire resistance potion? I was wanting to give Karlach these flowers to cheer her up,” he says, holding the bouquet in front of him sheepishly. Although Wyll and Karlach had been foes in Avernus, they’re relationship was slowly blossoming into a gentle romance.

“That’s very sweet of you, Wyll. I should have one in my stuff.” You both head over to the piles of items that Astarion had started to organize. It would be nice to have someone think about me like Wyll thinks about Karlach, you ponder as you bend down next to Astarion, grabbing the fire resistance potion that sat buried within the clutter. “Here you go,” you hand Wyll the potion, “I think those will make her very happy.”

Wyll says a quick thanks as he opens the potion with his teeth, hastily pouring the contents over the bouquet and heading off to Karlach’s tent. Clearing his throat, Astarion asks “Did Shadowheart enjoy your gift?” he says with a slight frown and a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

“My what?”

He stares at you for a second, before elaborating, “The necklace? The one that you oh so rudely snatched from my hands.” He watches as your face scrunches up tightly trying to remember what he’s talking about before you gasp.

“The necklace!”

“Yes, the necklace,” he sighs.

“Where did I put it?” you say as you frantically pat down your pockets.

Astarion starts to tease you again, “Really, darling, how could you misplace something like that? I thought that necklace was important after you had yanked it out of my hand and ran off to Shadowheart.” He’s chuckling to himself when he notices the genuine frustration that is starting to seep off of you.

“I just had it. I was holding it in my hand. Where could I have put it?” you mutter to yourself, your breath starting to quicken. Dread creeps through your chest as you begin to mentally retrace your steps. “Think, dammit, think!” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, a lump taking place in the back of your throat. Astarion stood up and reached his hand tentatively towards yours, squeezing it gently to try and bring you back to the present.

Gale had made his way back over to you, seeing that you were near your things. “I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but I really do need that ring if you have it,” He says while clutching his chest. Astarion glares daggers at the wizard who is either oblivious or purposely ignoring your stress, but you don’t notice as your mind has drifted off.

Right, you think to yourself, I came over here to look for the ring. Without saying a word, you push away Astarion’s hand and sink to the ground, aimlessly pushing around everything trying to find the ring. Astarion studies you, the way your hands seem to be searching for the relic while your eyes glaze over and stare at nothing, until your hand brushes over the small golden circle and you grasp it firmly. You sigh and recollect yourself before turning around and jumping up to Gale, handing him the ring with a forced smile and laugh. “Sorry for the delay! I’ve been so forgetful lately.”

He takes the ring from your hand, clutching it tightly while absorbing the magic into his chest. When he opens his hand, the ring is broken into two. “Ah, apologies. Dinner should be finished soon. Thanks again,” he says with a bow before leaving.

You sigh before returning to the pile, starting to organize it once again. From the outside, people would assume that you’re just forgetful and easily distracted, most even finding your frantic and hectic demeanor cute. You can’t help but feel like a burden, requiring constant reminders to stay on task, feeling like you need to rely on others instead of yourself. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, either, but no matter how many times you repeated tasks to yourself, how many times you had written down what needs to be done, how many times you had try to will focus into your mind, nothing changed. It's always been like this, and now with the stress of the unknown ahead, you’ve been getting distracted more.

Astarion watches you, determined to organize the mess on the ground. When he first met you, you had brushed off your forgetfulness and laughed along with anyone who had made a joke at your expense. It had annoyed him to no end when you would walk into the same room, multiple times, that you had just looted. This aloofness only seemed to grow after you both had come to an agreement that Astarion could drink your blood in order to satiate his thirst, the only side affect being your increased mind-wandering.

After another 30 minutes of watching you return to the same room over and over to loot, he had decided that you both would search the rooms together, if nothing else to lessen the time it took at each town. He didn’t expect that during the extra, private time you both were now spending together he would begin to grow fond of you. While he would be working on a lock of a chest, you would grab a book and immediately become immersed in it. At first, he would use this time to pocket the most valuable items found in whatever container he had just opened, but as time went on, he had started to ask you questions about what you were reading.

It had caught him off guard when you looked up at him with excitement in your eyes as you explained the gossip in the diary you found, and he couldn’t help but become intrigued himself. Quickly, a new routine had started: while Astarion would loot and lockpick whatever he could get his hands on, you would find diaries, notes, and books to read outloud. He would respond to the especially vulgar and outlandish things you would recite with theatrical gasps and awes. One time, you had stumbled across a particularly sad letter from a person who begged their lover to wait for them, only for their lover to respond that they had never returned. A choked sob had escaped your lips when you finished the letter, and Astarion had quickly called you over to distract you.

“It’s about time that you learn how to use one of these,” he said while he pushed a lockpick into your hands. “If you’re going to stare at me while I do all the work, you may as well get something out of it.” He had been joking, but you hadn’t taken it that way. A wave a guilt and embarrassment had washed over you as you resolved to force yourself to learn what he was teaching you. It was all in vain, however, as every ten minutes when he would ask you to demonstrate, your hands would clam up and your mind would go blank.

“Darling, is it really that hard to focus? Or am I just that distracting, hm?” he had joked.

You wouldn’t look into his eyes, instead you had begun to fumble with the lockpick in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you had whispered, “I’m really trying.”

You had expected him to berate you or to even make a joke about how useless you were, but instead he had sighed and positioned himself behind you, placing his hands over yours as he talked you through the steps, yet again, of lockpicking. When you had heard the final click of the lock, you quickly turned to look at the man who had helped you. Inches away from each other’s faces, he smiled softly and brought one of his hands up to your cheek as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“See? You can focus,” he had said while giving you a tight squeeze.

The sound of your sigh brought him back to the present, and he stared at you for a moment before asking, “Do you want me to go and look for the necklace while you do this?” You stop moving things around and just sit there, defeated. The necklace had completely slipped your mind, just like the ring. Your body begins to shake as tears run down your cheek. Astarion slowly kneels next to you, grabbing the potions and arrows from your hand and setting them off to the side. “Hey, it’s alright. Shh-shh-shh, there’s no need to ruin that beautiful face of yours.”

You start to sob quietly. Why was this so difficult for you? You were able to talk your way out of situations, fight enemies with ease, and coordinate a fighting strategy that used everyone to the best of their abilities, yet you were unable to do such simple things. You draw your hands to your eyes, pressing harshly into them to try and stop the tears that fall out. Astarion gingerly moves his arms around you in a hug, as gentle as he can muster as to not startle you. He squeezes you tightly and you stay like that for a while, before you’re able to croak out a simple question that leaves a pain in his chest.

“What’s wrong with me?” You move your hands away from your face and turn your head to look at him, expecting to see frustration in his eyes but instead finding something softer. It looks as if he’s genuinely concerned. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Tav,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Then why,” you say with trembling words, “why can’t I do such simple things? Why is it so difficult for me to remember what I’m doing, to not get distracted?”

Astarion sighs as he looks at you with his big, round eyes. “You are capable of much more than you know, my sweet. You were designated the leader for a reason. You’re brave, witty, and above all else, kind. You are so sickenly kind and patient with everyone, yet you don’t afford yourself the same grace,” he says as he rubs circles into your back. “You’ve been kind to those that don’t deserve it, but you’re never kind to yourself.”

“Thank you,” you reply meekly. You hated crying in front of your companions, but you found that you didn’t mind being comforted by Astarion.

“Besides, darling,” the vampire joked,” It’s hardly your fault that you keep getting distracted when there are six adult children who need constant supervision.”

“Don’t you mean seven?”

He pulled away from you with a gasp. “I think I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, you don’t need to see me for blood anymore then, right?” you teased.

Astarion squinted at you before his eyes softened and he pulled you into his arms again. You both sat like that for a while before he spoke, barely above a whisper, “I don’t only need you for blood.” Before you can respond, Gale’s call to dinner causes Astarion to push you up. “Go on, enjoy dinner.” You start to protest and gesture to the mess that still needs to be cleaned up before he cuts you off, “I’ll take care of it.” As he begins to sort through the items, he catches your eye before you leave. 

“I hope you know that I’m still expecting to see you tonight,” he says with a sultry voice. If you hadn’t gotten closer recently, you would take what he says at face value, a meaningless flirt to rile you up. But beneath his smirk you can see a hint of sadness in his eyes.

It will need to wait for another time as your stomach grumbles, and you remember that you had forgotten to eat lunch that day. You say a quick thank-you before running off to join the rest of the party, feeling more at ease about the adventure that lay before you.

[twstowo]

I noticed that you opened the ask box, so I came to ask for Floyd x Yuu with the scene from "The Little Mermaid", in which Ariel saves Eric from shipwreck, like it was an au where they met like that

I hope i'm not being too picky with my order ♡

♡OMG, I literally thought about this but with Azul, but then I was like, "Would Azul be able to save you?" because I have this mental image of him not being able to swim very well/being really slow. Lmao

♡Warning: Drowning

You'd always been a wanderer at heart, eager to explore the world, discover new places, and connect with people. Your adventure began when some sailor buddies welcomed you aboard their ship. Days at sea were filled with chants, parties, drinks, talks, and lending a hand to everyone. Once on land, you made the most of each day, wandering through cities and villages, documenting your experiences, and sketching landscapes. Your circle of friends in these new lands expanded so much that monthly, you'd receive a flood of cards and gifts, making it a challenge to find a spot for them all. Life was easy-going, a privilege granted by your birth into a well-off family, affording you the means to sustain yourself in these faraway places.

As you wrote letters to your distant friends, the sea's scent became a comforting constant, making you feel more at home on the waves than on solid ground. With night approaching, you finished the last letter and stepped out for a walk before dinner. It was then that one of your sailor friends, looking pale and alarmed, rushed towards you. "A storm's heading our way!" The wind had already picked up, and though storms at sea were nothing new, the urgency in your friend's voice unsettled you. "This one looks really bad, we might need your help," he said, and you nodded, following him.

With the wind intensifying, tasks on the ship became more challenging. The wind seemed determined to push everyone off the deck, and as you struggled to secure the unruly sails, your hands felt the sting of the rope. Panic spread across the crew, and for the first time, you feared this might be your last adventure. Looking at the encroaching storm, escape seemed impossible.

"Look out for that barrel!" you screamed as you watched the object land on someone's head, sending them tumbling down the ship. You ran towards them, grabbing their hand and holding it with all your strength to prevent the man from falling into the wild sea. The boat waddled with the strength of the waves, and you started to fear it would turn around at any moment.

"Don't let go!" you told him as you tried to pull him back up. You watched the fear in his face fade as he placed all his hope in your confident words. However, uncertainty crept in as the strength drained from your arms. The biggest wave you had ever seen approached the boat. You feared you'd never see your friends and family again as you said your last words before the wave hit all of you. "Fuck!-"

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

You felt so cold, your body shivering as you slowly opened your eyes. It was mainly dark, but you could see some strange light from above reaching towards you. Nothing made sense as your brain tried to process everything around you. Strange wood started sinking around you, and the bodies of the crew members slowly sank by your side in a slow rhythm. You tried taking a deep breath, but your brain didn't allow it as you realized that you were underwater, having fallen off the boat after that huge wave hit it.

You finally grasped the situation as you started flapping your arms and legs around, trying to reach the surface. Wood pieces hit you along the way, sending you tumbling repeatedly. You feared the oxygen would not be enough for you to save yourself. Your throat burned as you tried holding your breath, unable to swim back to the surface. Everything started to become dark as you dared to breathe in the water. Then, you felt a strange touch on your shoulder. The lack of oxygen was surely playing tricks on you as you watched a strange creature look at you with a curious glance. You closed your eyes, awaiting death to take you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Floyd observed your sleeping form on the sand. He had brought you to the nearest land he could find, ensuring that your chest's gentle rise and fall indicated life. It was the first time he had come in contact with a living human, finding you strangely intriguing. Although he had seen some humans at rock bottom underwater, encountering a living one was a different experience.

Attempting to wake you, Floyd shook you gently, his fin hands reaching for your shoulders. However, your eyes gave no signal of opening. Annoyed, he sighed and lay back on the sand, half of his long tail submerged in the water.

Minutes passed as he lay there, gazing up at the sky. Strangely, after saving you, he felt in a remarkably good mood. He wanted to talk to you, for you needed to thank him, and he had questions about the inland people. Your head leaned against his shoulder, your cheek touching him, catching him off guard. He grinned as he gently arranged your hair.

When your eyes started to open, Floyd watched as you struggled to comprehend the situation. Weak and almost unable to move, you stared at his face, just a finger's distance away. You had never seen someone like him—strange ears, unnatural skin colour, and vibrant yellow/brown eyes. "Wh-Who are y-you?" you weakly whispered, and he quickly glanced behind, sitting down on the sand with his arms, reaching for the water.

“Oh My! Y/N is that you!” a voice shouted, and you tried to sit down, looking in the direction of the man who had vanished. You swore you had seen a tail—had you been saved by some sea creature? "We need to take you to a doctor!" a friend's hands reached for your arm, trying to help you stand as you continued gazing toward the ocean.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“A human? I wasn’t expecting you to take such a strange liking to one of them,” Jade mocked his brother with a grin.

Floyd wasn’t enjoying Jade's tone as he swam away. He had been interrupted by another landwalker just when he had the chance to talk with you, not even learning your name. Though he'd never admit it to Jade or Azul, Floyd occasionally returned to that beach, hoping to meet you again. Perhaps one day, the two of you would get to talk properly, and Floyd could finally learn your name.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Love and Coffee in the Mornings✨

This was a fun little writing challenge I did for @moonlight-prose and I had so much fun with the prompt “You want me to make you some coffee?” I just wrote this up this morning, so I hope you enjoy! ☕️ Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, always happy to hear your thoughts ☺️

Pairings: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, love making, love confessions, outbreak! Joel, soft Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You awake to specks of light peeking in through the drawn tasseled curtains and a morning dove cooing its soft tune up on the roof. You blink once, twice and rub the sleep from your tired eyes. The room is still, almost a parallel world inside these walls compared to the outside gates of Jackson.

You lay in nothing in the king sized bed, only the tossed up cotton sheets to cover you. That’s not all that covers you though. No. Joel’s massive body crowds your space and his thick arms cage you to him as he drapes them around you and holds you up against his broad chest. His thick fingers are entwined with yours, and you can’t help but feel a wave of intense emotion flow through you from the feel of it all. The feel of him. Joel. Your soft, gentle man that only shows that side of himself to you. Only you.

A smile tugs at your heartstrings and a wet tear rolls down to the pillow from the corner of your eye as you take it all in. He’s yours. Yours, yours, yours. And you belong to him. His, his, his. It’s like a love song that plays through your mind, winding around all your brain cells and making its way down to your beating heart that only beats for him. Just for him, only him.

His slow breaths are relaxed and deep behind you as he sleeps with his head rested in the crook of your neck. You can smell him, taste him as his lips kiss the side of your jawline, the scruff of his beard tickling the inside of your neck, and his tousled curls fall against your cheek, sticking to the sweat that remains from last night.

You remember last night so clearly. It was one of the best nights of your life. Every night with Joel is like that, like a dream you were sucked into, and you just can’t wrap your head around that it’s real. He’s real. Your perfect, brooding man that never goes a day without showing you how much he really loves you.

Love. The first time he ever told you was a week ago while he held you tight in his arms inside the bathtub. You remember, remember like it was just seconds ago. The way he took your hand and turned you around to face him. The way he so gently cupped your chin and stroked his calloused thumb up and down your jawline. The way he looked so intensely into your eyes with those doe eyes that were flecked with spots of sunshine that shine only for you. And the way he called you his ray of sunshine, sending your heart spiraling out of your chest from just the way he was looking at you. His soft gaze said it all. He was in love with you. And the way that the words tumbled from his mouth like it was effortless to him made tears well up in your eyes.

“My ray of sunshine. My beautiful, perfect girl,” he hummed out as he stroked your cheek and pushed back a flyaway hair behind your ear. He paused a second later, his eyes melding into yours like two hearts that beat for each other. And then he said it. He said the words. “I love you,” he whispered down at you, and that’s when the tears fell. Those happy, glistening tears that fell just for him as you said the words back to him. Slow and steady, like how your heart beats for him. Like a sea of galloping horses that run wild together on the shorelines of the ocean, free and happy.

And then there was last night. Your muscles still ached from all the love making, all the different positions he had you twisted in. And how many times did he make you cum? Three, four? You couldn’t remember. That part was a blur as he made you cum over and over again. A fresh wave of slick sticks to your thighs as you squeeze your legs tight as you remember it all.

You remember his head in between your thighs, first. How he worked you nice and slow, building that first orgasm as his rough tongue meticulously lapped circles over your clit, how he tugged and pulled you into his mouth, how his fingers curled up inside you again and again, hitting that sweet spongy spot that made you see stars. Remember the way he thrusted into you time and time again, filling you up with his seed as he rutted his hips into yours over and over again. How your legs were thrown over his shoulders as he crowded your body and showered you with gentle praises and worshipped your body over and over again.

That’s a good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come on, baby. Look at me, show me how pretty you are when you cum for me, wanna see ya.

God, he was so… perfect. In every way. You just couldn’t get enough of him. Never wanted to get enough.

You hear him stir behind you as a low groan comes from deep within his chest and feel his arms hug you tighter as he slowly opens his eyes to the harsh sunlight. You feel his lips graze your jawline as he leaves gentle kisses all the way up to the shell of your ear which makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mornin’, baby,” he whispers in your ear as another groan leaves his chest as he turns you his way and lets his hands drop down to your waist.

“Morning, handsome,” you say with a huge grin spread taut across your lips. He smiles back at you, and those cute dimples appear on his cheeks, making you blush at the sight. You push his tousled locks back and he groans as your fingers scrape against his skull. A deep groan escapes his mouth, and then he’s pulling your right leg over his thigh, opening you up for him to have access to.

“And how are you feeling this mornin’, sore?” he asks as he slides his hand down your torso, carefully ghosting his hand over your center as you shiver in response.

“Not really,” you gasp out as he slowly runs a finger over your folds, collecting slick on his fingers and spreading it all over your sex. You moan out in response and let him continue, opening your thigh up a little more for him.

“Mmm good. Because I’m hungry, and I know exactly what I want to feast on,” he smirks. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me already. Fuck,” he growls out as he turns you on your back and slides in between your thighs, slowly lifting your legs over his shoulders as you shutter in response. Touch me, taste me, you want to scream out. But he knows. He knows that’s what you want.

He slowly trails kisses up your thighs as he gets you all worked up. Slowly teasing and making you drip more for him as his thick beard tickles in between your thighs, as his large hands splay across your hips. He gets right to your center and stops just for a second to admire your glistening cunt.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he gawks as his eyes turn an amber color, his love swirling all around the flecks of his irises for you, and it makes your heart nearly stop at the sight.

“Yeah? You like what you see?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“Mhm, fuckin’ love it.” He takes his calloused thumb and spreads you apart, slowly caressing all the most sensitive spots of you. He gets up to your clit and circles and circles, eliciting a moan out of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper out, your hands grabbing the sheets as you bunch them around your fingers.

“You want more?” he asks in a husky breath, his broad shoulders flexing with every movement he makes.

“Mhm, please,” you beg, writhing underneath his touch.

He chuckles under his breath, and his eyes turn darker, more carnal as he stares up at you in between your open legs. He pulls you down further in the bed and gently blows down on your center, making your hips buck up in response. He pushes them back down and lowers his head to your pulsing center. His eyes never leave yours, they stay focused intently on you, just like a hawk watching its prey. And then he licks a long stripe from your dripping hole, all the way up your folds as his pupils expand into black pits. The image has you shuttering under his touch.

“Eyes on me now. That’s it. Just like that,” he commands as he drops back down on your cunt. He spreads your folds with his tongue, eagerly soaking each fold with the base of his tongue, slowly making his way to your aching clit. And when he finds it, he attacks. He circles and circles it with a steady pace, gently pulling it in his mouth and sucking, making your moans echo around the room as he works you up, builds that growing orgasm as you feel it already setting it. It’s right there in the base of your spine, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. He’s so fucking good at this, at eating you out. You never last long. He’s just that good. The artist that can make love to you with only his tongue, and it feels so good.

He pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole and slowly works them up and down, up and down, curling till he meets that sweet spot that has you sending more slick over his fingers. His tongue doesn’t stop. He keeps working at your throbbing bundle of nerves, keeps sucking and nipping and licking until you’re a puddle underneath him. His beard is glistening with your wetness, and it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Joellll, feels so good. I’m so close… I’m almost there-I..” your voice breaks off as he takes you into his mouth again, slowly sucking on that spot that does it for you. You squeeze against his fingers inside you, your walls fluttering as you’re about to shatter. Almost there, almost. You tangle your fingers into his tousled curls, and he groans at the sensation.

“Come on, give it to me. Let me see you cum, baby. Remember, eyes on me. Wanna see those pretty eyes focused on me when I make you cum,” he growls as he pushes up inside you more, licks up and down until he’s pulling you into his mouth again. You feel the cap break inside you, feel the hot sensation taking over as you start to lose it, start to fall apart in your intense orgasm.

“Joel, I… I’m…” you can’t finish your sentence, too fucked out at the moment.

“Let me have it, pretty girl. Give me all you got,” he growls as he sucks you into his hot mouth again. And then it’s over. You’re cumming, hard.

You moan out his name and squeeze your legs around him as your eyesight goes blurry, but you focus on him, never leaving his blown out pupils as he stares up at you like a starving wolf that wants to feast on you. You let yourself go, let your walls clench up before you release white, hot liquid all over his fingers, all over his mouth.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he groans out, licking up all your spent liquid as he slowly works his fingers inside you, curling them until he has every ounce of cum that you can give him right now. You breathe out breathy moans as he licks at your now sensitive area, cleaning you up carefully as he devours you, tastes you over and over again. And you can never get enough of this. Of him, his fingers, his tongue, his soft praises. He’s too good, too good.

When he’s finished, he crawls out between your legs and joins you at the head of the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did so good for me, baby. So good,” he praises as he traces your bottom lip with his calloused thumb and presses his lips against yours slowly, delicately, like a rose petal just blossomed at the first sight of spring. He’s so gentle, so loving, so perfect.

When he pulls apart, he traces your jawline as his eyes turn to that warm honey color you love. “You want me to make you some coffee?” he asks with a gentle curve of a smile that envelops his mouth.

“I’d love some,” you respond as you beam up at him with a deep blush on your face.

“Okay, I’ll go make you some then,” he says as he pulls away, slowly sliding off the bed.

“Joel, wait,” you say urgently as your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, preventing him from going any further out of the room.

He looks back at you with his dark eyebrow raised, questions lingering in those honeyed eyes of his. God, he looks so good standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs that hug him close as you see the outline of his hard cock planted against them. His broad chest expands as his breathing is still rapid, his large veins cascading down his thick arms as his tousled locks stick up everywhere, like he’d just had morning sex, which he did. Mornings with him were your favorite thing in the entire world, he was your favorite.

“What is it?” he asks as he stands still, eyes meeting yours in question.

“I need something else from you. You need something from me,” you say shallowly as your eyes trail down to his hard erection under the thin material of his briefs.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks as his eyes turn a darker shade of molasses, a color you want to drink up, let him devour you with his sweetness.

“Fuck me,” you whisper as you bite your lower lip and spread your legs for him as you show him just how wet you are again. His eyes trail down your body and end at your center as he breathes in and lets out a deep sigh, his hand dragging through his coarse scruff on his face slowly.

“Goddamn,” he groans at the sight of you. He doesn’t waste a second. He drops his briefs to the floor and climbs in between your legs, pushing them apart as he stares in wonder at your glistening sex.

You lean forward and wrap your hand around his thick cock, tracing the lines of his large vein that runs under his glistening head, all the way down his large length. The tip of him is swollen and red, and precum leaks from his slit as you work it up and down him, hearing the wet noises you make as you fist him with your palm, enjoying seeing his eyes cloud over in a fog the more you touch him.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feels so good,” he groans as you lightly circle his tip, finding all the sensitive spots as more precum gathers over the swollen tip of him. Before you can continue working your hand over him, he pushes you down on the pillow and wraps your legs around his back as he pushes the head of his cock to your opening, barely thrusting inside before he speaks again.

“Hold on tight, love. Gonna make you feel so good,” he groans as he pushes his way inside you, stretching you to the max as he pushes deeper and deeper, until he’s bottoming out and hitting the back of your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan out as he starts to move at a steady pace. In and out, up and down as you hear the wetness of each other as he slams back into you over and over again.

His lips come down and nip at your collarbone as his hands knead over your breasts, making your nipples pebble underneath him as he rolls them under his calloused thumbs. He speeds up his tempo, angling your hips higher as he hits your spongy area time and time again, making your eyes glass over at the intense bliss you’re experiencing.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, baby. Feels so good. You’re so close, so fuckin’ close. Come on and give it to me. Show me how pretty you can cum on this cock,” he growls as he presses down on your throbbing clit, circling you until you’re screaming out his name and breathing ragged moans into his ear.

“Good girl. Come on, baby. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he thrusts into you deeper, circling your clit in the exact spot you need him to. You rake your fingers down his back and moan out as your legs squeeze the back of him. One more circle of your clit, and you’re done for. You clench up around his thick cock and release all your pent up white hot liquid on him and feel your eyes roll back at the blissful, fucked out feeling. Your body feels electric as you hear white noise spread through your ringing ears and take a minute to come back to reality. Back to your body after that blissed out high.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. So good,” he groans as he thrusts faster into you, his breathing hitching as his jaw flexes and his hands clamp up around your hips. “Gonna-fuckin’…cum. Ah, fuck,” he moans as he snaps his hips once more into you and releases his seed all over you, filling you up as his jaw goes slack and his eyes roll back. His breathing is heavy and ragged, slowly coming back to himself as he pulls slowly out of you, dragging his spend with him down your thighs.

He collapses next to you, and both of you just breathe as you catch your breath for the next few minutes. “That was incredible,” you gasp out as you fold into his arms, your heart rate going a thousand miles at the moment.

“Mmm, yes. Always is with you,” he groans out, a thick southern accent spilling out of him. And you love it, love his accent, love him.

After a few minutes of snuggling together, he gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom. When he comes back, he gently cleans you off, careful not to overstimulate your sensitive areas. “There ya go, all cleaned up,” he rasps as he throws the towel on the floor next to his ruined briefs. “Now, how’s about that coffee?” he asks with a smirk as his caramel eyes dance across your body that’s wrapped up in the sheets.

“I could go for a sweet cup of coffee,” you say as you push yourself up to a sitting position, your head still swimming from the thick cloud of arousal.

Joel comes over to put a strong hand on your shoulder and lays you back down, tucking you into the sheets as his hand caresses the back of your head. “No, you stay right here. I’ll bring the coffee up to you. You just relax. I’ll start a hot bath for you when I get back,” he says gently as he pulls on a clean pair of briefs and runs his hand through his tousled curls.

God, he’s pretty.

“Oh, uhh okay,” you reply in a whisper as you’re awestruck at how gentle and loving he’s being towards you. It took a long time to get to this point, but you made it. Now he was your soft, sweet man. Always at your attention when you needed him. And you loved him. God, you loved him. So much, so very much.

“I’ll be back up in a few minutes,” he says as he turns toward the door as the hardwood floor creaks underneath his footsteps.

“Joel?” you call out, stopping him before he can make it through the wooden door.

“Hmm?” he hums as he turns back to you, brown eyes intent on you.

“I love you,” you whisper out, enough for him to hear you through the fog of tension that wraps around the room.

His face softens and a smile splays across his face, his honey eyes shining on you like they never had before. It’s absolutely beautiful how smitten he looks at you, how in love he looks. For you had opened him up, shown him what love really looked like. And when he fell for you, he fell hard. No more rough cut edges, for he was soft now. Loving, caring, beaming for you and only you. And it was the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your entire life.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back as the trace of a teardrop forms over the film of his eyes. And then there’s nothing left in the room except pure love for one another, a cloud so thick and dense that there’s no getting past it. He was yours and you were his. Clear as day. No questions about it. “Be right back, baby,” he says as he exits the room and softly closes the door.

You lean back into the cotton sheets and bury your head against the pillow as you close your eyes, envision yourself in a field full of vibrant flowers with Joel by your side, rolling around in a bed full of roses as you lose yourself in each other. And it brings you peace, fills you with a deep satisfaction. He’s yours as much as you are his. Two souls forming into one, colliding together and ignoring everything else but each other. Your peace, your comfort, your ecstasy. It was Joel, it was always Joel.

A few minutes later, he brings you a steaming cup of coffee. You see it’s drizzled with caramel and French vanilla creamer, and it looks absolutely perfect. “Well, go on and try it. Tell me how you like it,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the cup, slowly sliding his hand up and down your thigh as he waits for you to taste the hot liquid.

You take the cup from him and blow on it, slowly taking a sip of the hot coffee as it encases your taste buds. Drops of caramel and French vanilla slide down your throat, along with the taste of the strong coffee that follows it. It’s warm, heavenly, the perfect cup of coffee you’d ever tasted.

You turn to him and smile, looking up at those honey eyes that sink into yours. “It’s absolutely perfect,” you say as you take another sip and set it on the forest green nightstand that sits next to the bed.

“Glad ya like it,” he smiles as you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him back down to the bed with you, his left arm catching your waist and his right hand gently caressing the back of your neck. He brings you to his lips and crashes them against yours as you feel his warm breath against yours. You part your lips and invite him in as his tongue glides in and finds yours, letting the coffee taste pool all over your mouth as he devours you nice and slow, just how you always like it.

When he pulls back, his calloused fingers hover over your jawline, slowly moving to cup your chin as his thumb dances over your lower lip softly. He looks at you with endearing, loving honey eyes, and you can’t shake the feeling of how completely in love you are with him. Mine, mine, mine, you scream in your head. Mine.

“I love you so much, my little ray of sunshine,” he breathes out against your neck, his eyes telling you everything you need to know.

“And I love you, so much,” you whisper out as you drag your lips across his soft plush lips.

“You wanna go take a bath with me?” he asks as he smiles down at you, his eyes lost in a daze before you.

“There’s nothing more I’d want to do,” you answer as you leave a trail of kisses down his cheek, ending at his lips as he pulls you in again, feeding all your desire for the man of your dreams that lays next to you as he consumes you in full.

“Joel?” you ask as he rolls on his back, laying you on his chest as he hums out and looks up at you with those big brown eyes that you so dearly love.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thank you for showing me what a home looked like again. Thank you for loving me, for never giving up on me,” you choke out as you tear up and smile down at him as you lay against his broad chest.

“Oh, baby. No. Thank you for never giving up on me. I know I wasn’t always easy to deal with. I wasn’t always kind, especially when I first met you. But you evened me out, showed me what real love looks like. And I can’t thank you enough. I just… I just love you, so fuckin’ much. I love you, I love you,” he cries as he cups the back of your head and pulls you down to his level, planting his lips against yours as you fall back into him time and time again.

This is where you belong, where you always want to be. It’s with Joel, it’ll always be with Joel. Your best friend, your saviour, the love of your life. And you’ll never get enough of him. Never, ever. Your forever coffee date, your forever lover, yours.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Wereroomies werewolf!chan reaction to his girl in a rabbit costume? I know that man will go insane

this ask wormed its way into my brain and made me write a drabble in record time. sorry if anything's worded weirdly, i was literally possessed while i wrote this whole thing.

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series). | Word Count: ~1k. | Warnings: Chris’ POV · curvy/chubby reader · primal play (can it be considered primal play when one of the parties involved is an animal already?) · breeding · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control].

minors do not interact.

It was rare for Chris to take you to his house in the woods on your own. Typically, the entire pack would come for their monthly run, but every once in a while he needed to come check on the place to make sure everything was in order–the amount of times he’d woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the sudden thought that he didn’t turn off the lights before leaving during their last trip were too many to count at this point.

This weekend, Chris decided to take you out on a little escapade, just the two of you in his big house. You both had been working nonstop the last couple of weeks, between that and pack duties you’d hardly had any time for yourselves as a couple, so he was more than needing his alone time with you, to disconnect from everything and everyone else.

So here he was, doing the final checks on the house to make sure everything was fine before he could finally join you wherever you were in the house to lounge around and snuggle and hopefully have some delightful sex later in the evening.

“Baby, have you seen the–the…”

Walking into the living room, and seeing you all of a sudden like that, sitting on the dining table of all places, was something Chris did not expect. His mind short-circuited immediately, and the fact that you had the nerve to gasp and act surprised as soon as you spotted him wasn’t making it any better.

“Oh, my… Seems like I’ve found myself in the wolf’s lair. What am I gonna do now…” You brought your hands to your cheeks, which only squished your breasts further together, all garnished with the fakest look of concern he’d ever seen on your face.

That bra was barely even a bra, it was just a couple of pieces of fabric tied around your neck by thin straps, it did absolutely nothing to keep your breasts contained. It was white, too, practically transparent. The bottoms weren’t much better, also a barely even there piece of fabric that did incredibly poorly at covering your plump centre. But the worst pieces of all were the white and pink suspender belt, with the matching stockings over your mouth-watering thighs, and the goddamned bunny ears on your head.

Something stirred deep inside of Chris, something just so incredibly dangerous, something he just knew was exactly what you wanted to awake with this entire set-up of yours.

Prey, prey, prey, prey, prey…

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you of your fun? So of course he played along. 

“Aww, poor little bunny got lost?” Chris cooed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame, staring you up and down.

You bit your lip, nodding. “You’re not gonna do anything bad to me, right?”

Chris took a deep breath, and he got almost winded by the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. “Well… That depends, pretty bunny…”

“On?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, and Chris could already feel himself straining in his briefs. “On how fast you can run away from me”.

You bit your lip and whimpered, looking almost scared. 

There was a moment of you staring at him, and Chris staring at you… A moment of silence that fed the tension in the air. In an instant, you were getting off of that table and bolting out of the room, letting him see the fluffy tail attached to your bottoms, and he could feel the fine hairs on his nape stand on end.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…

Chris immediately ripped his t-shirt off of his body and chased after you. He was suddenly feeling incredibly warm, and he could feel his instincts further clouding his reason as he looked at your form trying to get out of his reach.

He let you off easy for a few minutes, revelling in the deep breaths you took, in the way your heart was racing inside your chest, and in the smell of your scent taking a hold of every single one of his nerve-endings. Until he just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to catch you, to show you your place and make you submit.

After a while of running and hiding around the house, Chris finally caught up to you on the upper floor, right after climbing the stairs–his shorts had been discarded at some point during the chase, he didn’t even notice when he’d removed them, and he, honestly, also didn’t care.

With a tight hold on your waist he pushed you against the nearest wall. He would’ve felt bad by hearing the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as your back hit the wall, but, at this point, he knew your limits, he knew how to read your body language, he knew the exact word you would use if it all became too much for you, and, especially, he knew when you were putting on an act. 

With a hand cradling the back of your head, he tilted it to the side, making himself more room to shove his face in the crook of your neck, to prod at your pulse point with the tip of his nose and get a proper whiff of that scent of yours that made him delirious, especially now with how horny you smelt, with his senses enhanced by the chase.

“What now, bunny?” Chris mumbled. He licked a stripe up the expanse of your neck, relishing the taste of your skin under his tongue, and he felt you shiver with the motion.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do to me? I’m just a poor, innocent bunny that got lost…”

“Are you, now?” Chris brought his free hand to the ears on your head, feeling the soft fur between his fingers for a moment, only to finally move that hand to your side so he could drag it all the way from your ribs down to your hips, relishing the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “And what was a pretty bunny like you looking for so insistently you ended up lost in my lair?”

“A partner”, you replied simply, although your voice got a bit shaky when he started to toy with the string that tied your underwear in place. “I just…need to be bred so badly”.

Chris could’ve fainted with how fast blood rushed from his head to his crotch.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, bunny”, he dragged his teeth down the length of your neck, until he finally found a spot to suck the first of many love bites he was ready to leave on your skin. “I can give you exactly what you want… I’ll pump you so full, pretty. Just how you need”.

“You will?” You reached for his hips, and the warmth of your hands on his bare skin was further feeding that pool of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Is the big, alpha wolf going to put his pups inside me?”

God, he might’ve been the predator, but you certainly always had the upper hand, and Chris knew you were aware of it. You always knew what to say to get him to react, to get exactly what you wanted, and he was ready to fall for it every single time.

Chris leaned in closer, close enough he could feel your lips brush against his own when he spoke. “Only if you ask nicely”.

You moved your hands from his hips to his ass, squeezing generously. “Please… Please, I need your pups so bad. Please, breed me, alph–”

A squeal left your lips when Chris took a hold of your hips and turned you around all of a sudden. He just couldn’t take it anymore, not after all that had transpired since he spotted you on that table downstairs.

With a hand on your upper back, he pressed your chest further into the wall as you pushed your hips back towards him, giving him the delicious sight of your round bottom in that barely there piece of underwear with the fluffy tail, and the way your soft flesh dipped under the taut straps of your suspender belt that held the stockings on your legs almost made him dizzy.

Chris spat on his free hand and smeared the saliva all over his length. Pulling your underwear to the side, he got a perfect view of your soaked folds. Clearly, all the running around had been a good warm up for you, too, and he was almost trembling in anticipation.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve probably stretched you out first, even loosen you up with his mouth and his tongue. But these were no normal circumstances. He could barely think straight at this point, all he knew for sure was that he needed to be inside of you and give you the pounding of your life.

Breed, breed, breed, breed, breed…

You whined once he started to push his cock inside you. The feeling of your warm, wet, tight walls stretching over his length had him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He might’ve worried he was hurting you, but he knew by now that when you reached back for his hip like you were doing now, almost like you were urging him to ram himself into you already, it meant you were doing just fine, so there wasn’t a single spark of worry in his hazy mind just yet.

As soon as he was fully sheathed within your warmth, he nuzzled your neck, holding the soft skin of your hips tightly in his hands. “Don’t worry, pretty bunny. I’ll give you what you need. All of it”.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha

[ghostlywhiskey]

What are your thoughts on a reader who sends Price videos of herself when he’s away? How does he react when he sees the vibrator disappearing into her cunt?

the way i’d send this man pictures and videos all day 😋 not proofread i wrote this quick on the subway oop

cw: female use of dildo, sexting

oh price gets pissed when she first started sending videos and pictures. the vibration of his phone humming softly against the mattress as he makes his way out of the bathroom. one hand holding the towel around his waist as the other reaches to grab the phone, your name lighting up the phone screen.

the phone echoes the clicking sound of his passcode being entered as the messages with you open. his hand tightened at the sight of the video, the play button in the middle of your legs.

pressing play, his finger quickly pressing the volume button down rapidly to a reasonable level even of he was in his room. he didn’t exactly count on the walls being soundproof. soft moans and the gently vibration of the dildo in her hands filling his ears as his eyes focused on watching her tease herself. the dildo rubbing between her. folds before watching as she purposefully pushed it in slowly. so fucking slow. when did she even buy that? had she always had it?

without even finishing the video, he exited it out and immediately pressed call button after his thumb aggressively tapped on her contact. the inital ring didn’t even get a chance to fully finish before she accepted the call. the sound of the vibrator in the background immediately causing him to straighten his posture. “what the fuck did you just send me?” he growled.

her soft chuckle turning into a hum as she pumped the dildo in and out of herself. “what, you don’t like it?” she cooed. “this shit is forever. what if someone hacked your phone? or my phone? or got stolen?” his voice slightly strained as he tried to focus on his annoyance with her for sending something like that over text. but the image of her on her bed, legs spread and him in place of the dildo flooded his head, directing his emotions elsewhere.

“lighten up, baby.” she moaned, tone playful and having no regard for his annoyance.

and after the videos were sent a few more times on various occasions, price started caving in to acceptance that she wasn’t going to stop sending them. so he watched them every single time she sent them, even if he couldn’t get to it in the moment. the video waiting for him as he would wind down for the night.

and everytime it slipped in, disappearing as her dripping cunt took it whole, thats when he would call her. not carrying to watch it anymore. he didn’t need to see her fuck herself to an orgasm with a silicone toy, he just needed to hear her the rest was left to his brain to imagine his own cock sliding in, pumping her full and deep.

[wol-fica]

-ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: ℙ𝕣𝕖-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤-

pairings - wednesdayaddams x elemental!reader

summary - in which reader has a crush on a certain goth…

warnings - angst, pining, rude Xavier (sorry), happy ending

an - i miss writing for Nessy, so i think this would be a good addition to my bliss series; this is before they got together :) shit writing btw

—————————

Shit.

That is the word you would use to describe yourself right now.

Mornings have never been your thing, you hated getting out of your warm bed just to immediately go and sit in a boring class for a ninety minutes learning about the anatomy of a mythical horse or whatever the lesson plan was. School was an agitator for you, but you still valued your education so waking up on time was a need-to-do.

Usually though, you at least get yourself ready and look decent enough for the day, but this morning was different. See, yesterday during lunch in the quad, you were writing the final draft of your confession letter to a certain raven haired goth. Your crush had been festering for a few months now, and you had decided to write a little something for her to let her know how you feel.

Everything was going perfect, you were just about done with the letter and was going to slip it under her dorm after folding it up, but a gust of wind ruined your whole plan. The letter flew across the quad and into the hands of Xavier Thorpe, who happened to despise you.

He read the whole thing in one go, snorted at it and stared at you with a little condescending smirk before walking it straight over to his friend group. Everyone, including Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Eugene Ottinger, Ajax Petropolus, the twins Kent and Divina, and Wednesday Addams herself all read it collectively.

Xavier was laughing his head off while they did, and Kent joined in once he finished. Ajax chuckled while Enid giggled with a little blush of her face, Eugene looked confused to who wrote it, Yoko and Divina smirked and shared a look before squinting at you, and Wednesday just looked blank.

You watched in pure horror, your body shrinking into your seat while the whole thing unfolded. You felt sick to your stomach, and to top the whole thing off, Wednesday took the letter and crumpled it into a little ball, tossing it into the trashcan next to her.

Your heart shattered, mouth dropped open in shock. Xavier turned to look back at you, pointing and leaning on his knees while laughing at your expression. Tears formed into your eyes, and with one last look at the girl you so badly liked, you snatched up your things and ran.

Fast forward to now, where you just looked dead. Your hair was disheveled, there were dark bags under your eyes, and you barely made any effort to make your uniform look fit and well kept. Your tie was loose, your jacket was unbuttoned, and your shirt was wrinkled and dusted at the collar. You had no socks on, and you didn’t even bother to put a belt on your pants.

People stared in class, whispering amongst themselves while pointing at you. At one point, you thought you saw Enid shoot you a look of pity, but you shrugged it off to being your sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on you.

You looked depressed, because you were, and it did not help when you crossed Xavier in the hallway and he said loudly to Kent, “Looks like a dirtbag!”

You sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky before hurrying to get to the quad for dinner. You planned on eating, and getting back to your dorm as soon as you could so no one would have to endure looking at you any longer.

After standing in line and grabbing your tray, you trudged to an empty table and sat down, slumping in your seat. You were exhausted from lack of sleep and crying all night, and it wasn’t a surprise to you when you leaned your forehead against the table and tears started to form again. Your tray of food was left untouched while you cried to yourself, and the stare from a certain goth went unnoticed by you.

Wednesday was watching you, her black eyes burrowing into the side of your head while your body shook slightly with each painful sob you produced. She felt a weird feeling in her stomach, one of pity and remorse she didn’t understand. Her heart was telling her to go to you, to pull you into her arms and hold you close while she comforted you, but her stubbornness refused the idea.

“Wednesday.”

She turned her head away from you, choosing ti look at Enid now, “What.”

Enid sighed, glancing at you before looking back at her roommate, “You should talk to her.”

Wednesday furrowed her brow, “There is no reason for me to.”

“Yes there is.” Enid replied, bringing her fork to her mouth and chewing on a piece of steak.

“Just because she sent me a confession letter, doesn’t make me obligated to take care of her.”

“Wednesday c’mon!” Enid said, giving her friend a look, “You read that letter, she really likes you!”

Wednesday glared back, “And? I still see no reason for me to go talk to her.”

Enid sighed, glancing around before leaning in to whisper lowly, “What Xavier did was unacceptable and rude, you should at least make sure she is okay.”

Wednesday turned to look at you for a moment, the pang of guilt returning when she saw you had lifted your head. Your face was stained with tears, eyes heavy and tired from crying. You meekly picked at your food, not even bringing the utensil up to take a bite.

“I suppose I could check in to see how she is.” Wednesday murmured, her heart beating slightly faster at the thought of talking to you.

“You should.” Enid said, turning back to her steak, “It’s the right thing to-.”

“But her sadness is not my problem.” Wednesday finished, sparing you one last glance before picking up her book and continuing to read.

“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, “Really? You won’t even ask her how she is feeling?”

“She’s clearly sad Enid, I don’t need to ask to see that.”

“Wednesday.” Enid growled, gaining her roommate’s attention, “Go talk to her, now.”

“You cannot make me-.”

“I see how you look at her.”

Wednesday’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes locking with Enids.

“I see how you stare in class,” Enid said, “I notice how you have her schedule in your desk, and how you blush when she walks by.”

Wednesday opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You like her, it’s clear as day. But you can’t break her heart just because you don’t want to accept your feelings for her.”

Wednesday glared at Enid, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. She wanted to respond, a little clap back about how she barely even knows you, but nothing came forward.

“Go to her, before it’s too late.” Enid finished, nodding her head at your retreading figure as you left the quad.

Wednesday huffed, giving her roommate one last silent threat before slamming her book shut, stuffing it in her bag, and quickly following after you. Her steps were quick and quiet, not wanting you to spin around and see her before she could get to you.

She eventually followed you to your dorm, coming up the stairs right as you shut the door. Her breathing was strained, and her face was slightly flushed with color from moving so fast. She slowly approached your door, apprehensive and suddenly nervous for the first time in her life.

What should she say to you? How should she speak? Should she be defensive? Or should she just confess her own feelings and see how you react? The consequences of all the outcomes were dreadful in her mind, but she had no other option than talking to you.

So she did what she does best, lost all expression from her face, sucked in a deep, and knocked on your door. She waited an antagonizingly long moment before stepping backwards when the lock clicked.

The door swung open, revealing you in black sweatpants, a white tank top, and still looking as depressed as you were during dinner. You froze when your eyes locked with Wednesday, your lips parting and eyes widening when you realized who was in front of you.

You both stood there for a moment, the world seeming to stop while you stared at each other. Wednesday was waiting for you to move or speak, while you were thinking the same.

“Can-.” Wednesday swallowed, clearing her throat, “Can I come in?”

You closed your mouth, eyeing around behind her, and nodded. She walked past you, turning when you closed the door and locked it. Her eyes scanned all over your walls, taking in the movie posters and tapestries that you had taped up. She awkwardly placed her bag at the foot of your bed, choosing to sit on the end of it while watching you move around and clean.

“Y/N.” Wednesday said, slightly irritated with how you were trying to ignore her with doing a spontaneous house-keeping.

“Yeah?” You replied timidly, still sweeping over by your closet.

“Come here.” She requested softly, patting the spot next to her.

You gulped, your shoulders tensing before you dropped the broom and sulked over to her. You plopped down next to her, leaning back until you laid flat on the mattress while she sat next to you.

“I read your letter.” Wednesday said after a moment of silence, “It was…passionate.”

“Oh my god just say you felt uncomfortable.” You groaned, putting your hands on your face.

Wednesday paused, letting you ramble and complain about the incidents from yesterday’s lunch fiasco. She listened until she had enough, slamming her hand onto your thigh to silence you.

“I actually found your confession to be quite exceptionally written for someone like you.” She murmured, her thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, “You should consider a writing class.”

You eyed her warily, skeptical of her words. Slowly, you sat up, trying your best to not cause her to move her hand, “You really think so?”

“Yes, and I also have some of my own things to confess…” The ravenette said, tearing her eyes away from yours to look at the floor.

You placed your hand on top of hers, a silent encouragement to speak her mind.

“I have realized that I myself have my own feelings I need to share.” Wednesday started, her hand twitching under yours, “It has come to my attention that I have gained something called a “crush” on you-.”

Her sentence was interrupted with lips crashing into her own, salty but soft and welcoming with warmth. She instantly reciprocated, her hands sliding around you neck while yours grabbed at her waist.

Her lips were plump and tasty to you, flavored like black cherries and stale burgundy lipstick from this morning. You pulled at her, guiding her into your lap so you could kiss her more properly. Her tongue slid against yours, a small whimper passing through your mouth and into hers from her hand scratching at your neck.

You soon parted for air, giggling when she chased you. She huffed, but sighed in satisfaction when you tucked your face into her neck, pressing a few kisses there that made her stomach all fluttery.

“Your heart is beating super fast.” You noted, hugging her closer when her fingers wound into your hair, “Do I make you that flustered-?”

“Be quiet.” She whispered, smirking when she heard you purring from her fingers scratching your scalp.

You complied, leaning back with her in your arms when she pushed you slightly. She murmured soft praises to you, guiding you into a deep sleep that you so desperately needed.

“Sleep Y/N.” She cooed in your ear, humming when your eyes fluttered shut, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You felt your brain drift off into slumber, a smile etched on your face while you held the girl of your dreams.

What wonderful bliss…

——————

taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn

[dragonmuse]

How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer

I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.

Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).

What is a dirtbag fic writer? 

 I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.  

Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it. 

How do I dirtbag? 

That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean. 

Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries. 

Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other. 

And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT.  I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens.  We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.  

Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on? 

But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!

COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T. 

Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay.  If you don’t, let us continue. 

What does dirtbag writing look like? 

It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird.  It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business. 

It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.) 

It has mistakes. 

Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there. 

What if I don’t get good feedback? 

Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish)  is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.  

You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film,  (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness. 

And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it?  Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too! 

BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck. 

You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?”  Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye. 

If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole.   Fic is no different 

And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT. 

Ok, but what if I don’t finish it? 

Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if it’s bad? 

Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if it doesn’t make sense? 

That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway. 

What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms? 

Then someone out there probably needs it!  And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY* 

*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”

You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary. 

I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape. 

That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.

You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there. 

Go forth. Make. 

You have some errors in this essay. 

PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT.  But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).  

#dirtbagwriter 

Go forth and MAKE

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[gretavanlace]

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

~

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

[bloofinntoona]

Baby's Breath

Word Count: 1.4k

Themes: Fluff, a little bit of angst? Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (Reader's house can be up to you!)

Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) You're asking Sebastian Sallow who will he take to the Yule Ball.

Author's Note: So... This is my first fanfic(after a while). I played Hogwarts Legacy and I love Sebastian's questline and his story. I'd thought I wrote a little bit of a story after the main HL story. Based on the marriage question???? scene from the first Avatar movie.

A year has passed since the massive battle with Ranrok, as well as the murder of Solomon Sallow. You, Anne, and Ominis had decided to not turn Sebastian in. The weight of killing his own family member was tormenting enough for the teen, there was absolutely no need of putting him behind bars at Azkaban. Despite the darkness that has been brewing inside Sebastian, his friends still have much love for him. Especially you.

You didn't think much of it at first. Why, Sebastian Sallow was notorious for being the Slytherin bad boy. Dodging detentions here and there, and persistently asking his schoolmates to duel in his not-so-unsanctioned-secret-dueling club. One would think that this boy was a menace. But you know that he was more than that. Sebastian was smart, curious, relentless, outgoing, kind, cunning, and obviously as ambitious as a Slytherin could be. As if the boy couldn't be more perfect, he has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen. You particularly noticed the tiny freckles that adorned his face — you swear you could see constellations if you connected the dots.

Getting back to your relationship before the incidents was not easy. Ominis and Anne took their time to make small talk and joke around with Sebastian. You, on the other hand, shared a kinship. You also wielded the unforgivable curses with him. You often found yourself between Sebastian's arms, finding consolation from the responsibilities of being the so-called Hogwarts Hero who possessed the Ancient Magic. There was also a time when Sebastian broke down in your arms, feeling guilty for being too absored in the Dark Arts. Nevertheless, time is the best healer as you both were able to cope and live somewhat normally in school.

After all that you both have been through, there was never a point where you confessed to each other. Yes, you hugged and comforted each other. You swore you felt him kissed your forehead once. Perhaps it's the archaic rule of courting in the 19th century that your guardians had been drilling into your brain. Or perhaps you're just too scared of being rejected and loosing the closest friend in your life.

⁂✲＊⁂✲＊⁂

You shifted your feet back and forth, hearing the snow rustling underneath your platform shoes. Merlin's beard, you thought, where in the world is Sebastian? Saying that it's freezing in Hogsmeade is an understatement. The wind blew past your ears as you cursed yourself for putting your hair in an updo today. You jumped as you felt hands tickled your sides, "Hey!" you shouted, turning around. Sebastian grinned, "Sorry, 'had to pick up something earlier." He patted your head, which prompted a red blush spreading across your face. "Shall we?" He offered his hand as you head into The Three Broomsticks. Nothing like a full glass of Butterbeer can make you feel better, especially with Sebastian as your company. This is how you both liked to spend the weekends after a tedious week full of classes and homework. The outing almost ended with You and Sebastian racing on the broom, cruising over the lake until you both reached the rickety docks in Lower Hogsfield, looking over the school.

"That was a good race. Obviously, I was here first." The boy puffed his chest.

You rolled your eyes, "Sure, consider yourself lucky that we're alone 'cause I literally landed first!"

Sebastian and you playfully bantered, pushing each others' broom. He accidentally pushed a bit too hard which sent you flying back. "Oop-!" you yelped as you felt his swift hands caught your back and pulled you close to him. Too close. You felt your chest pressed against Sebastian. Godrick's Heart, did he grow taller? You also swore he was not this strong and muscular before. Puberty years did work wonders for teen boys. Feeling his warm breath against your face, you started to panic and gently pushed him away. You swore you could see a hint of disappointment in his face.

"So," you cleared your throat, "The Yule ball is coming soon. I, uh, heard that you're supposed to look for your own date." You paced around the dock, afraid to look at Sebastian. "Have you thought about who you're going to ask?" You bitterly questioned him. A part of you was a bit disappointed that Sebastian didn't ask you when the ball was announced. You'd expect him to take you, even as friends. The thoughts of Sebastian secretly having a crush without telling you made your guts churn. It's not like other boys haven't asked either, Garreth Weasley was very sweet, offering an enhanced (his words) Wiggenweld potion warped in a bow with an invitation to the ball. You were flattered, but you thought there wasn't a point of going without the boy you actually had a crush on.

"I thought about it." Sebastian calmly said, using his wand to cast Levioso, levitating a rock and flung it to the lake.

"Oh..." you gulped. "May I know who?" You wanted to slap yourself for asking, why would you want to hear answers that will hurt? You still have your back facing Sebastian.

"Guess!" and there's Sebastian Sallow, never making it easy for you.

You used your wand to flung some pebbles into the water. "Well, Imelda Reyes is an amazing flyer. I bet you learned a flying trick or two from her," You smiled bitterly, "Plus, you both are in the same house, so I bet you're close with her?"

You could hear his laugh. "No way, I'm not keen on being ridiculed by Imelda." Sebastian flung more rocks into the water.

"I guess Natty is a good option too. She's brilliant, probably the kindest person I've ever met-"

"What about me?" Sebastian joked, "I'm also kind."

You rolled your eyes. "Also she has a professor as a parent, like you."

"It's not Natty, too... Gryffindor for me," He shook his head, "Don't get me wrong, Natty's a good friend. But she's just a friend for me."

"What about Poppy? She's the cutest girl in school. I think her passion for the beasts is amazing too." You chimed.

Sebastian shook his head again. "Nope, not her."

You raked your brain, thinking about the rest of your schoolmates. You didn't even notice Sebastian's footsteps inching closer to you.

"Ominis?" you blurted out, now facing Sebastian. Hearing your question, he made a face and blurted out an explosive laugh. "I mean I would, but he probably would kill me first," he wiped a tear from his eyes, "no, not my dear friend Ominis Gaunt."

"I give up!" You held up your hands, "I don't know who you have in mind."

Sebastian lets out a sigh. "There is this girl," he stood close to you, "She is beautiful, brave, and possesses an ability like no other. She's always eager to beat me in duels and learn new things. This girl is always there for me, through thick and thin. Even though I was a sodding disappointment of a mate, she still greets me with a warm smile. I don't think I could be here right now without her."

Your breath hitched, feeling warmth crept around your face. Sebastian's face is turning red as well. He took your hands in his, caressing your fingers softly. You can feel your body heating up despite the cold air. "I'm glad you came to Hogwarts. Having you in my life was the best present the universe gave me." He reached inside his pocket and presented you with a corsage decorated with baby's breath and baby blue ribbon. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow. But since we're having this conversation..." He smiled, face red as ever, "Will you go to the ball with me-"

Sebastian didn't get to finish his sentence before you crashed your lips against him. You could feel electricity sparked all over your body, butterflies flying all over your stomach. It seemed like forever, feeling his soft lips molded with yours. His hands rested on your waist, gently pulling you closer. You snaked your hands around his neck, entangling your fingers in his brown locks.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. "I'd take that as a yes?" Sebastian whispered. You nod, couldn't get a word out of your mouth. He smiled, peppering small kisses on your cheeks before capturing your lips for another kiss.

He pulled back, took your hand, and wrapped the corsage around your wrist. "You know, I had to do a bunch of tasks to have Professor Garlick help me grow this flower." He chuckles, admiring how the flowers looked on you.

"Sebastian.. I-" You grinned widely, "Thank you. I would love to go to the ball with you." You couldn't help but to wrap your arms around him again. "Why baby's breath?"

"Well, darling, they said it's the symbol of everlasting love."

⁂✲＊⁂✲＊⁂

[hanbindans]

zb1 as boyfriends!!

word count: 2.8k (only ca 350 for each) a/n: requested!! I wrote them in bulletpoint form in an attempt to keep a structure, but I do apologize if it's in-cohesive because my brain is still in finals mode (cries). I also apologize if you think my use of emojis is too much but it just makes sense. Hanbin stans who hate coffee just pretend you don't for this 1 post <33 thanks

jiwoong

You guys. Jiwoong is THE boyfriend. He knows all the in's and out's of boyfriending™ at this point. Will not disappoint.

He might fall in love a liiittle before you, but honestly it would be pretty mutual from the beginning. I think he would have to meet someone with the mindset that it would lead to a relationship (probably doesn't go from being friends to dating) so if he meets you and likes you he would make it known :)

Pretends to like dates in the beginning; going out to have nice dinners, going on late night walks in the city, visiting animal cafés, anything that gives you a chance to talk a lot and really get to know each other.

When he knows he's got you he will prefer at-home dates though because going out is a little too much effort and he'd rather just chill on his couch <333 If you still want to go out for dates though he would of course compromise!!!

Speaking of which- he's so good at communicating and making sure you're both happy, in the relationship and otherwise. Kind of loves when you come to him for advice or admit when you're struggling with something because he sees that as a big sign of trust.

"hey I bet you can't get me a bag of chips from the convenience store in 15 minutes" and you speed to the convenience store because you're a fool in love <3

I don't think he is super lovey dovey- he's more about the casual displays of affection. A "hey, you look really nice today" when he can tell you made an extra effort. A packed lunch waiting for you in the fridge when he knows you're going to have a busy day. Of course he lets you know he loves you, just not every second of every day.

In general he is a very chill, low maintenance boyfriend who is secure in your relationship. Is mature enough to communicate and compromise with you whenever you disagree on something (which is very sexy of him 🤌 we love).

zhang hao

Oh you're totally the one who falls in love first. He has insane rizz- like you're going to be crushing on him for a good few months before he develops feelings back.

Once he does though he's allllll yours. Looks at you with full on heart eyes and giggles at everything you say but is cool about it if that makes sense?? Like he acts unaffected and tries to be the cool and sophisticated boyfriend but it's painfully obvious he's totally head-over-heels in love.

He is 1. a busy man, and 2. an introvert, so his favourite type of dates are in calm and not-so busy places where you can just wind down and spend time together, like small cafés or going for long strolls in nature and just talking. He would also love to just stay at home as you both do your own things, just vibing in peace and being productive.

Will nag at you for every little thing but it's out of love. It's always "babe a granola bar isn't a meal 😒" and "I can't believe you never remember to apply sunscreen!!" but it's not to be annoying he just cares about you (and most of the time he's right).

Brings you cut fruits to snack on when you're busy doing something <3

One thing about Zhang Hao is that he IS a great boyfriend, but he will remind you himself through small comments. "Am I not the best boyfriend... Where else could you find a boyfriend like me... You're so lucky to have the handsomest boyfriend...." He loves you so much and he doesn't want you to find another boyfriend so he is pitching himself so you don't go away <3

The most caring boyfriend who will look after you and make you feel so so loved. Life is exhausting sometimes but this relationship is the perfect safe space for the both of you to relax and be unapologetically yourselves.

hanbin

I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion but I think he would fall in love first!! He's a soft boi at heart, when he meets someone he likes he falls hard and FAST. Luckily for him you fall back though because duh he's Sung Hanbin.

COOKING AND BAKING DATES OF COURSE!!!!!! He will seduce you by cooking your favourite homemade dishes and making you the best cup of coffee you've ever had. Also learns how to make bread so he can lure you into being his partner forever and ever 😈

If you were up for it, I think he would love to take you out dancing. He will teach you if you want and are worried about embarrassing yourself, he just wants you to go out and have fun together!! Probably knows all the good spots and will take you out on the occasional Friday night 🕺🕺

We know this man stays busy, so he might not have that much free time to spend with you... That being said you have his undivided attention whenever he does see you. You have something to say?? All other conversations are unimportant. You're going into another room?? He won't follow you around but he IS counting the seconds until you come back.

If you compliment him on pretty much anything he is an emotional wreck the rest of the day. Wuws his praise, especially from you <3333

Kind of his favourite thing to do is to sit down with you after a long week, have some snacks and some nice drinks ready, and you just rant to each other about work/school/people or whatever. Sometimes you just need to complain to someone you confide in, ya know?? And he needs to know who your enemies are because they are his enemies too.

He just likes you a LOT and wants to involve you in all his favourite things. Hanbin loves life and having fun- and he wants you to have fun too!! You are his most beloved person ever and he shows that by making you a part of his life in all the ways he can.

matthew

There's not a single alternate universe where a relationship with Matthew wouldn't start as friends to lovers. I'm sorry it just works too well with him. You start falling for each other at around the same time, but he's probably the first one to confess. You're both just two fools extremely in love <3

Absolute date master but it's completely unintentional?? Idk, I think he would plan really cute date like picnics in the park or at-home movie nights with dinner. He just has a knack for dates that make you feel like the main character in a movie.

He has one (1) mission and it is to devastate you all the time. Prepare to receive cute texts for no reason, matching jewellery, and for him to ask to take couple pics that he can use as his phone background 🥲

Will teach you his choreographies. Even if it's only two easy steps. Doesn't matter if you are a dancer or not. His baby will be able to dance to his songs!!!

You know how he wants to be the hot Canadian oppa or whatever? Your partner privilege is that you're the only one allowed to tell him he's cute. Like he loves when you giggle and ruffle his hair and kiss his cheeks but that's only because he loves you. If Gyubin tried that shit on Matthew he would be on the floor in a chokehold. Use this privilege wisely.

When it's just the two of you he literally can't keep his hands off of you. Wraps his arms around you so you have no choice but to lie down on the couch and let him hold you and press kisses all over your face. He just likes his cuddles.

Overall a very loving boyfriend who lives to let you know how special you are. You deserve to be treated like a k-drama main character- so he ends up doing all the cliché, cute and romantic things for you that he never imagined himself enjoying before- but now has a special person to do them with <3

taerae

You both start liking each other around the same time. He's a pretty social guy and just very easy to like, so I feel like you would become close pretty fast, and he would confess that he likes you pretty quickly too.

As great as he is to spend time with and talk to- he sucks at the whole dating thing. He does really like you and wants to spend time with you almost always, he just doesn't like the logistics of arranging a date. What do you mean they don't show that movie next Friday?? What do you mean we have to decide where to have dinner?? Please just tell him where you want to go and he will happily go there with you. He just doesn't want to do the whole planning bit.

Sitting together in his bedroom as he strums on his guitar and you do something else.

Very cheesy boyfriend but it's so cute <3 Tooth-rottingly sweet texts and compliments for absolutely no reason, thoughtful birthday gifts, randomly getting you flowers, the works.

He could be the mature, calm, chill boyfriend..... but why would he want to?? Much more fun being your kind of insane boyfriend who acts like the calm and chill boyfriend in front of other people. Like sometimes he has Einstein level thoughts. Sometimes he lies to you that there is a dog behind you just for shits and giggles.

I think he has a pretty high EQ and he would give great comfort and advice if you needed it. Always there for you if you need to rant about your day and that annoying person you don't like, or if you have a problem that he has to help you solve. Empathises really well and never judges you for your honest thoughts.

Taerae really is just a great guy to begin with, but when he's in a relationship with you he is the nicest, most fun and supportive boyfriend . Always willing to go the extra mile for you and make you feel like the most loved person in the world :)

ricky

Hmmm.... I mean there's a much bigger chance that you fall in love first than the other way around. That being said: he's absolutely whipped when he does start liking you back. Like. Gyubin would make fun of him because he literally can't focus on anything else when you're around. So in the end you're both fools in love <3

Oh the dates are going to be top tier. Your wish is his command and the budget is LARGE, so pretty much wherever you want to go or whatever you want to do, he will make it happen. But I think he has a soft spot for museums, art galleries, basically anything "cultural". Or just walking around the city at night and seeing what's open.

Wants to engage in your hobbies!! He will ask a million questions about your interests (sports, music, cinema, drawing, whatever you're passionate about) so he can see you nerd out and maybe understand you a little better. He will also be SO SO SO happy if you're willing to engage in his interests and watch his favourite shows with him because THAT is true love <33

Tbh he's not always great at clearly expressing or asking for affection- but the one thing he would actually ask for is head massages. After a long day, he just can't resist the temptation of spacing out while you run your hands through his hair. He is still too embarrassed to ask for it with his words though, so he just gets all quiet and leans his head onto you and hopes you get the hint (you do).

He also wants to share everything. Mostly shirts, hoodies, jackets- sometimes jewellery. Be careful because while this does mean you can borrow his stuff, he will also borrow yours. Hide your shit if there's something you want to keep to yourself.

He is trying to be the cool, sophisticated boyfriend- but he's just a big softie at the end of the day!! He secretly loves all the cute coupley things like fancy dates and matching necklaces, and he loves to surprise you and watch your eyes go all wide in awe. Really just wants to walk around and be in love all day <3

gyubin

Friends to lovers where you meet through mutual friends and are in the same friend group for a while, silently crushing on each other until one of your other friends gets sick of the tension and tells both of you that you like each other.

Dates are very spontaneous but always fun!! If he has to run errands or go somewhere he will force you to come with him to keep him company. In return he says something to make you laugh approx. every 4 minutes to keep you entertained.

Oh when I say that he is attached to you at the hip... He can't go a full day without talking to you- either by text, on the phone, or face to face. Even when he is with you he HAS to be touching you pretty much all the time- holding your hand and playing with your fingers. If you ask him to tone it down in public he will... Begrudgingly..... Actually physically holding himself back from grabbing your hand.

His one mission every day is to make you laugh at least once. Has a folder of memes saved on his phone that he updates regularly so he can send you something every day.

Prepare to share all your drinks and food for the rest of your life. You got a smoothie?? He's taking the first sip "tO mAkE sUrE iT's nOt pOiSonEd" (you get to try his smoothie too don't worry).

Other than the fact that he needs to be next to you all the time?? He's pretty low maintenance!! Is perfectly fine with spending a whole weekend rotting away in his bedroom, cuddling up to you and scrolling through tiktok as you show each other funny videos that pop up on your fyp's.

In general I see him as being a very fun and loving boyfriend. You are kind of just besties who kiss, ya know? He genuinely likes spending time with you doing whatever- you're the funniest, kindest, best person he knows- and he lets you know by sending "ily" texts at least twice a day and holding your hand everywhere you go <3

gunwook

Oh he has the world's biggest crush on you for a while before you ask him out (yes you need to ask first he's too scared <3). I'm talking "doodling your name in his notebook with hearts next to it" levels of crush. Loses his mind when you ask him out like YOU LIKE HIM BACK???? Crazy.

A very sweet and polite young man to begin with (lucky you!!), but it's going to be 10x more intense with the person he likes. Prepare yourself to be treated like you saved the world 3 times, ended world poverty, hung the stars in the sky, etc.

He's still pretty young and gets too attached too fast so initially he's very scared to mess things up. Googles 'date ideas' to come up with stuff to do and watches K-dramas to learn how to boyfriend (he has NO idea what he's doing. send help. but it's very cute). With time he becomes more chill though.

Think classic dates in the beginning; watching a movie at the cinema, going to a café, stuff like that. When he gets more comfortable it's more like chilling in his bedroom as you binge watch a netflix show or cuddle and scroll through social media in comfortable silence.

A little dramatic sometimes: he gets super excited over all your small achievements and exaggerates when he tells you how TERRIBLE and AWFUL his day was. Also needs reassurance every once in a while that you really do like him back because he gets in his own head too much. Kind of a drama queen but in the best way.

Wayyy too shy to initiate pretty much ANY type of physical affection so he hopes you will just initiate instead and hold his hand. Ya boy is trying to play it cool but is also a little ~insecure~ so he is in a constant dilemma between holding your hand versus not holding your hand. WHAT IF HE DOESN'T HOLD YOUR HAND AND THEN YOU BREAK UP WITH HIM????? He is distressed 24/7.

Overall- very sweet and shy and confused but he WILL try his best to be the bf you deserve!! He's still working on exactly how to do that but rest assured: he does love you to bits and wants more than anything to make you smile every day 🥲 Best boy.