#I loved my almost two years (two! two years!!) of being apart of the fandom

[spinningbagel]

The mutant busters fandom is like one of those really small towns where everyone knows everyone. Everyone gets along and is super welcoming to newcomers, long term or just those passing through. It's nice, I like that about the community.

[uglypastels]

omg what about Logan being like the softest with a sensitive/shy reader. Idk in what context like maybe she’s just overwhelmed with life and kinda closed off in terms of voicing what’s wrong and you know he’s usually very stoic but he’s the BIGGEST softy. Totally not projecting btw.

YEsss Logan is such a fucking softie, no matter how hard he'd want to try and hide it. thank you for being my first request for this fandom i hope i can do it some justice 🫶 and pleeease, we love to project here so please, go right ahead.

warnings: darkness. anxiety. loneliness. alcohol. fem!reader. reader's mutation specified. mentions of past [implied toxic] relationship. so some angst but also bunch of fluff at the end. also please don't come for me if he's a bit out of character. this is my first time writing Logan so it will be trial and error.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It was the dead of the night. Quite literally. All around you was so quiet and dark that the rest of the world might as well have ceased to exist. All you heard was the floorboards creaking under your footsteps as slivers of moonlight illuminated your path through the corridors of the mansion. It was the rare instance that you felt at peace. 

Yes, you knew almost as soon as you stepped inside the large building and saw all these mutants walking around happily and carelessly that you had found a true safe haven, and yet, months later, you still had not found your bearings. It did not help that you were not exactly in the age bracket of most of the residents here. Having the mansion double as a school meant most of the mutants were in that school-going age range, and while they were lovely (for the most part), you had no desire to befriend children. Then, those who you felt more drawn to socially, like Storm or Jean, were all apart of that special ops team, which always left them busy, if not completely absent, while away on missions. 

Thus, most of your days went by in solitude. Something you had gotten used to throughout your life. Over the years it had become natural for you to simply disappear into your surroundings. Wether you wanted to or not, people simply overlooked you. In hindsight, it explained your mutation perfectly… or was that just an aftereffect of it? You had always wondered if it was one’s personality that influenced the mutation or the other way around.

Either way, for you, it all merged into one dark abyss. 

By now, you had gotten a hang of all the floor plans of the giant building, especially the route between your room and the kitchens. 

You hadn’t checked the clock when you got out of bed, but it must have been around 2 am, if not later. You didn’t expect anyone to be up at this ungodly hour. Especially not walking out of the dark kitchen exactly as you were coming through the threshold. The two of you bump, chest to chest, and the contact immediately made you burst out in a high-pitched scream. From the other side of the impact, you heard a muffled grunt and the sound of a blade being pulled. That was enough for your flight or fight mode to activate. You almost choked on the deep breath you took. The blade swung in your direction, but it only slashed the air where you once stood. 

‘Who’s there?’ it was a male voice. Hard and deep, almost wild. In your other form, your eyes adapted much better to the dark, and so you could see him looking around himself wildly. You counted the sharp appendages in his hands— no, they were coming out of his arms— six long claw-like blades ready to impale the very first thing that’d move. 

There was no doubt about it that this must have been the infamous Logan everyone around the mansion talked about. From what you had heard, he had been away for almost a year on some top-secret assignment for the Professor, but now he had apparently returned.

And what a comeback he has made, nearly stabbing you in the hallway.

‘Who’s there?’ he repeated his question louder, still looking around.

‘Just me.’ Your voice came out as the exact opposite of his, soft and weak, and you immediately regretted your words. Just me, as if he was supposed to know what that meant.

But it must have done the trick, as Logan retracted his claws. His shoulders visibly slacked at the lack of imminent danger.

‘Well, Me, you can come out of hiding. I’m not gonna hurt ya,’ he grumbled, ‘let me just turn the light on–’ 

‘Wait!’ You squeezed your eyes shut and let the cool air of the night brush over your bare arms. When you opened them again, all you could see was Logan’s large frame standing inside the kitchen, most likely hovering over the light switch, surprised at your sudden call.

‘Sorry, you can uhm– turn the lights on now.’ And like that, with a quiet flick, the kitchen illuminated with a soft orange glow. 

Logan’s eyes were immediately on you, scanning you up and down for any sign of recognition, but you already knew there would be none. Even if he had ever seen you before, there never was.

‘Do I know you?’ he cocked his head with the question, and all you could do was shake your head. 

‘I doubt it.’ No one knew you, but that didn’t feel like a smart response.

‘Care to introduce yourself, Bub?’ He leaned against the wall with the light switch, and maybe it was his overall greatness as he practically towered over you, but you felt a rush of heat fall over your face as he looked down at you in expectance. Awkwardly, you pushed out the sounds that formed your name, with a bonus of an extended hand for him to shake. 

‘And you must be Logan, right?’

He confirmed your suspicion with a grunt as he took your hand, squeezed firmly, but not painfully, and shook it once. Then, silence fell between you. 

Two strangers who met in a complete, nearly fatal accident. It was only to be expected you would have nothing to say to one another. But you were, after all both awake this late in the night, and that was enough to compel you to talk. 

‘Couldn’t sleep?’

‘Just got back, actually.’ His eyes glanced to your side and that is when you noticed the duffel bag that lay in the corridor. Then, only when you looked back at him did you take in what he was wearing. Not the expected gym shorts or sweatpants with an old shirt. Instead, Logan was dressed in a black button-up under a dark motorcycle jacket. With that, he had a boot cut-jeans and the boots to match. From the tiny dark dotted pattern on his shoulders and the light pitter-pattering that was occurring outside, it was visible he had just come from out of the rain. 

Immediately, a parade of questions entered your mind. Where had he been? Why did he come back so late? What was he doing in the kitchen? And so much more, though none of it would leave your mouth as you doubted he would talk to you about his secret mission. 

‘You alright?’ His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, and you realised how you must have looked. Staring up at him with wide eyes, not saying a single thing. Another heat flare hit your cheeks.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

He cocked his head in an examinatory fashion. The disbelief evident in his eyes. 

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’

‘Relatively,’ you shrugged. ‘Got here a few months ago.’

‘Parents kicked you out?’ He assumed the most common backstory that comes with the residents of the mansion.

‘Not exactly,’ you kept your response short. After all, you could hardly tell a stranger you just met that your boyfriend had kicked you out of your shared apartment when he found out about your genetic abnormality. You had never been sure how he would have reacted, but the events that unfolded were even beyond your imagination. But the past was the past, and you didn’t want to dwell on it. The important part was that not a day after this conversation, you were crying in your car with nowhere to go. It was by chance that weeks after your break-up/eviction, you stumbled into some other mutants who told you about the Professor. You weren’t too sure about going to seek shelter at a school of all places, but in reality, the Academy was much more than that. Though it did give you the perfect opportunity to safely train your abilities.

That and so much more was what went through your head, but you didn’t say any of that to Logan. Why would you? He didn’t know you. He didn’t care about your problems, and you didn’t blame him for it. 

On the contrary, you appreciated that he didn’t press you for more details. When you answered the way you did, he simply nodded in understanding and made his way over to the fridge. The blue glow illuminated his tense features. Strange, for a man who had been a year on the go on some secret spy adventure, you would have expected him to return at least a bit beaten up. But besides maybe some signs of a bad sleep schedule, no form of strain was visible on his face.

‘You want something?’ he looked over at you, making you realise you had been, in fact, staring and not very subtly either. 

‘I’m good, thanks.’ 

‘Suit yourself,’ he went back to inspecting the contents of the fridge before sighing with disappointment. ‘They still don’t have anything stronger around here?’

‘Oh, if you’re looking for beer–’ you walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. You tapped a corner, and a small code pad appeared. You tapped in the code, and the cabinet opened to reveal a fully stocked mini-bar. ‘Scott had it installed over the summer,’ you explained when you saw Logan’s confused expression.

‘Explains the babyproofing.’ He walked over, and you handed him a cool bottle of beer.

‘Well, it is a school after all.’ You held in a smile as the thought occurred to you that the kids might not have been the only ones who weren’t supposed to know about the secret compartment. The rivalry between Cyclops and the Wolverine was known all too well around the whole campus, even for newcomers such as yourself.

Logan smirked, taking his beer. You were about to offer a bottle opener, but he hit the neck of the bottle against the edge of the table and with a pop and a clink, the cap came right off. 

‘Here,’ he exchanged your bottles, giving you the open one. You watched him repeat his actions with the second drink. Your eyes were still on him as he chugged down half of the beer in one go. He probably could have downed the whole thing if it wasn’t for his look down at you, most likely noticing your entranced look.

‘That staring a part of your powers, too, then?’ he commented, and the acknowledgement immediately made you turn your head in the direction of the window.

‘Sorry. I just— I tend to do that, I guess.’ You wrinkled your nose. Being on your own around so many people, you had gotten used to people watching, observing them from a distance like a show on TV that you kept on for the background noise.

‘What do you do, anyway?’ He asked bluntly, ‘I thought I had done you in good back there.’

‘You would have,’ you chuckled, remembering just how close his claws had come into contact with you. ‘It’s hard to explain. I just kind of—’ You noticed the shadow that fell over the floor from the table and lightly grazed it with the tip of your toe. With a deep breath, the world in front of you changed. Except the exact opposite was the truth. ‘Disappear.’ You finished the sentence, punctuated by your new state.

Logan’s eyes widened as you disappeared in front of his eyes. Where the shock came from, he couldn’t explain. He had encountered these sorts of mutants before. But this felt different than regular invisibility or teleportation. With his heightened senses, he could always detect those sorts of hijinks. No one ever disappeared to him. But you— as soon as you had faded away, it was as if you had completely fallen off the face of the earth. Not a single trace of you lingered behind. When you spoke, just as you had in the hallway, your voice didn’t seem to be coming from one place. It was all around him, almost like a whisper, a voice inside his own head.

With a blink of an eye, you reappeared before him. Just as you had stood there moments before.

‘There’s not really a name for this, I think; at least no one around here could come up with anything that made sense.’ Not that you had any conversations that made people interested enough to do the research. ‘But from my own understanding, I kind of become one with the shadows.’

‘And what about the light?’ he recalled your yelp when he had tried to turn on the light.

‘I merge with the dark, and so when new light sources interfere… it’s not pretty.’

Logan simply nodded as he took the last swig of his beer.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, you leaning against the counter and he against the large table. 

‘You’re doing it again, Bub.’ He smirked, calling out your lost stare. 

‘Sorry,’ you hadn’t even realised you were doing it. You had just been looking around the room and may have, perhaps, accidentally lingered a look at his frame for a few seconds. And then you caught sight of his hands. More specifically, his knuckles. There was a faint pink glow on the skin, but besides that, you would never be able to tell that deadly claws could grow out from there. You blinked. ‘Sorry.’ You were doing it again. Quickly, you drank the rest of your beer. The bitter taste lingered in your throat, suffocating the burning questions that you wanted to ask.

‘Spill it out.’ He hit you by surprise with the command.

‘Uh–what?’

You knew there were plenty of mindreaders around, but you had not thought it was one of Logan’s abilities. ‘How did you–’

‘It’s all in your face, sweetheart. You think just ‘cause you’re quiet, you’re hard to read, don’t you.’ His assumption left you a bit stunned. It wasn’t that you had thought exactly that, but more so that you never considered that you were making any expressions that were that easy to interpret, as you never really had anyone pay that much attention to you to point it out.

 ‘If you want to say something, just say it.’ Logan said the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile. ‘If you’re wondering if it hurts,’ he looked down at his knuckles, ‘it hurts just as any other one-foot-long knife cutting through skin.’

‘That’s awful.’ You gasped, considering what it must be like to have such a mutation that inadvertently harmed you any time you used it.

‘You get used to it after a while.’ 

Another round of silence. This time, the longer it went on, the more you started thinking how you must be inconveniencing him. With the beers drank, there was little for you both to still be doing here, but also didn’t want to be rude by just up and leaving. After all, you didn’t know Logan very well. 

‘You sure you’re alright?’ He asked, coming out from behind the table.

‘Yeah.’ You tried to smile but could tell it probably did not reach your eyes. Logan moved with a sense of apprehension, unsure of how to approach you. Being a year on the road, not to mention the years of solitude before he had joined the Professor’s team, had not exactly prepared him for these kinds of situations. He didn’t know the right things to do or to say. But to you, just his presence was enough. Just him being there, talking, or in this case, just seeing you, was more than you could have asked for. ‘I’m good.’ 

And yet, ironically, though you had actually meant it for once, you really did feel alright, but something about the situation caused tears to prickle in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that made you overly sensitive. Or the alcohol. 

You blinked the tears away and smiled awkwardly. ‘It’s just been a long day.’ or week. Month. Year. How about your entire life?

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ There was that quirk in his lip again, that ghost of a smile. And you couldn’t figure out if his response was just a sarcastic quip, understandably referring to his past days, which you were sure did not consist of a walk in the park. Or did he actually mean it, and he did want you to tell him more? Well, your moment of contemplation brought on another wave of silence, and the heavier it fell, the worse you felt to go back to your problems.

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled you back into your world. People must be slowly waking up; meanwhile, you hadn’t had an hour of sleep yet, and the effect of that started to hit.

‘I should— should probably go.’ You muttered, taking small steps in the direction of the door.

‘Well, the offer always stands.’ Logan followed you with his eyes, turning in his spot as you passed by him. See you around, Nightshade.’

‘What?’ the nickname caught you off-guard, stopping you in your tracks. 

‘Sorry,’ Logan winced, ‘I don’t know—’ that’s what he gets for trying to be cute. 

‘No, don’t apologise. I like it.’ Your smile finally found its full form. A “thank you” almost slipped past it, but you held yourself back. It felt too cheesy to get all sentimental about something as silly as a nickname. Especially since he didn’t know what it meant for you. He didn’t need to know didn’t think you’d ever belong amongst these people enough to get a moniker. 

And maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe he had just said it as a mindless comment on your powers. Or maybe not. Maybe he had really tried hard to put that smile on your face. 

You would never know.

Unless you took that one small step. Because, of course, all you had to do was ask, just like he had told you, but maybe another time. For now, you just bid him farewell, hoping for that next opportunity to certainly come sooner than later.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[rebelliousstories]

Again and Again

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Mentions of Death, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,425

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: Age is just a number with them. And now Aaron is frustrated about putting her as their emergency contact.

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind it, it doesn’t matter.” Mark Twain

Aaron sat alone in his office as he did many nights. For once he seemed to have finally filled out all of the forms that usually kept him from getting out at a reasonable hour, but there was a single form that held him up. His emergency contact form. Ever since Hailey, that form had remained empty seeing as the people he would want to contact in an emergency are usually right next to him.

His life had been flipped upside down for the last year. The one secret he had kept from everyone on his team, including Dave. His girlfriend, a young, hard-working lawyer from Virginia that was twenty years his junior. He was not able to bring himself to put his pen to the page though. Even though she had practically moved in to his apartment already, Aaron had a difficult time to tell anyone about her.

Jack loved her, and loved when she was around almost as much as Hotch did. The age gap between them was severe, but she was unlike any other woman her age he had met. She was wise beyond her years, and was one of the youngest practicing attorneys in the history of the state. It was a complete accident that they had even met and began talking.

Hotch sighed as he closed the file and placed it in a secure spot on his desk to take care of tomorrow. Packing up his briefcase, he gathered his effects and began to make his way home. Once he left the building, Aaron decided to phone his girlfriend while starting up his car.

“Hey darling. I’m on my way home. Holding down the fort?” He asked, letting a smile grace his face as he heard Jack in the background.

“Of course, honey. We’re just finishing up dinner prep while Jack is doing his homework. Here you go. He won’t stop asking for you,” a commotion came. There was some shuffling before he heard a new voice. He kept making turns and completing his drive home.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled excitedly from the other end of the line. Aaron chuckled as he heard his son.

“Hey buddy. You behaving for her right?” He asked, and made sure to keep his eyes on the road.

“Yeah. She’s helping me do my multiplication tables.” His son answered.

“That’s awesome, bud. I’m going to be home in about twenty minutes, okay? Can you pass me back?” Jack made sure to tell his dad that he loved hm before doing what he requested and passed the phone back to his dad’s girlfriend.

“Did you hear what I told Jack, darling?”

“I did. We’ll see you when you get here. We’re having spaghetti tonight so you may want to change as soon as you get home.” She teased to which Aaron let out a laugh.

“Did you get that recipe from Dave?” He asked, turning down a road that would take him straight home.

“What can I say? I love and trust that man’s cooking when you bring home leftovers, with a recipe sheet so you can make it again. Drive safe, dear. We’ll be here when our get home.” Aaron exchanged his own goodbyes with her. He was only five minutes from home now, and he may or may not have sped those last few miles just to get home faster.

The man flung himself out of the car as soon as he arrived at his apartment complex. Taking the stairs two at a time, Aaron joyously placed his key in the slot and stepped inside. Disarming the alarm, he set down his briefcase and unclipped his firearm on his hip before he was being attacked by a set of small arms from behind.

“Daddy’s home!” Jack exclaimed, hugging his father close. He chuckled as he turned in his son’s arms and picked him up for his own hug.

“Hey buddy.” Aaron greeted looking to where a chuckle was coming from. His girlfriend was wiping her hands on a towel while leaning against the threshold of the kitchen. She was wearing his apron, which was just making Aaron love coming home to her more. With his son on his hip, Hotch made his way to wrap her up in his arms and give her a welcoming kiss.

“Ew.” Jack groaned, trying to push himself away from the display of affection. The two adults began to break apart as they laughed at his innocence that only a child could muster.

“Did you finish your multiplication tables, sir?” She teased, tickling his stomach lightly. The boy giggled but nodded his head in conformation. “Well go get it so we can go over it.”

He took off with the speed of a star and left his dad and his girlfriend alone. Aaron turned fully to face his lover that was just a step away from the door. With a smile on his face, he drew her in closer and captured her lips in a much deeper kiss than before. Her arms came to rest on his broad shoulders as she relaxed with his hands around her waist. They pulled away for some much needed oxygen with grins on both of their faces.

“Welcome home, darling.” She whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Mmm, it definitely is very welcoming.” Aaron teased, bringing her in closer as she chuckled. Her head rested on his shoulder and they swayed slightly without a sound in the air.

“My emergency contact form came across my desk again.” He finally whispered after a few minutes. She pulled away just a little so that she could see his face.

“Oh?” It was all she could say. That emergency form had been a sore spot for him throughout the years. After Hailey, Aaron did not even put his girlfriend’s name down in his personal address book as he never wanted someone to use her against him again.

“Do you want to put someone down?” She asked, scratching her nails gently through the cropped hair at the base of his head.

“I want to you to be my contact. I’m just…” a sigh broke up his words.

“You’re afraid of me being a target?” Aaron nodded with his eyes downcast. Placing her hand on his cheek, she brought him back up to face her.

“It’ll be alright. You can put me down. Besides, I’m a high-profile lawyer. I’m already a target.” A chuckle tore itself from their throats at the joke, but it was quickly brought down by the weight of the subject.

“What’s the other reason, Aaron?” Another question that the man was reluctant to answer.

“I’m not sure what my team will think about our relationship.” He admitted.

“Because I’m young enough to be your daughter?” She blurted out, causing Aaron to look up in alarm.

“Never phrase it like that again please.” Hotch let out a sharp breath. However, she just laughed at his unease.

“Sorry, too good to pass up. But whenever you want to tell them, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Plus, Dave’s been married and divorced three times. I don’t think anyone is going to have room to talk.” Teasing once more, the couple was broken apart by the little boy in the house running for their feet.

“I did my tables.” Jack declared proudly. They each went off to do their own thing; Aaron and Jack were reviewing the math practice sheet, and she went off to finish up dinner. Dinner was a lovely affair, and the little family ate happily. The cloud of darkness was lifted from earlier, and all that was left was joy and laughter.

The next morning, Aaron unloaded his briefcase as soon as he stepped into his office and a note slipped out. Picking it up off the floor, and returning to his desk, he could only smile as he read it. On the note was his girlfriend’s full name, phone number, address, and any relevant information he needed. Plus, a non informational tidbit on the bottom.

Here you go. I expect to have one of Dave’s recipes straight from the man himself when you tell them. Have a great day, dear. Love you.

Aaron smiled to himself, got out his pen, and began to fill out his emergency contact file.

“Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships.” Stephen R. Covey

[lmskitty]

The JJk fandom has some INCREDIBLE writers and artists and I just felt like showing a bit of love so here are some of my fave Satosugu fics!!!

Audience by @c-valentino

"Three years after the KFC breakup, Satoru caves and visits his old friend late at night with a problem. They are far from what they used to be, but when he hopes they might get a second chance after all, assassins show up to hunt down Suguru."

As you like it by planetarypedxng

"Ieiri Shoko has laid down the law: the three of them will hereafter hang out only at Geto’s place, because Geto is the perfect host, and because Shoko refuses to clean up after anyone, least of all men, and because Gojo’s room always disgustingly reeks of sex.

Gojo had laughed at that, a little too loudly, perhaps, and curiously did not have a single comment about it. What can he say? The truth? That he was still a virgin?"

Falling in love is easy. Admitting it is not. By @ellionwrites

"At 20 years old - sharing an apartment and joint Jujutsu missions - Geto and Gojo are inseparable. But it takes Geto going on a first date for them to start to figure out their feelings."

Two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay) by @hollow-lime-green

"Geto Suguru has almost two decades of practice pretending not to see things that are clearly there, and Gojo Satoru has a well-documented history of being the most socially-stunted motherfucker alive.

That’s how they got here.

Love is in the hands by @thequeenofsarcaasm

That’s also why neither of them know where the hell they’re going with this."

To be a woman by @sadgreekboys

"After getting kicked from his home for being queer, Geto Suguru comes across his old best friend/first love, in a gay bar. He finds a new home in him."

close your eyes (nothing changed at all) by themoonisdead

"Satoru is the strongest. She is a woman. She is not meant to be those two things at the same time.

VIRGIN GETS WRECKED BY BEST FRIEND [FREE PORN VIDS] (18++) WATCH NOW!!!!! By Daisy__dupes

"That day in xx village, suguru makes a call" -what if Suguru had called Satoru for help that day?

Over the Threshold by @fushiglow

(Satoru gets hit with a sex curse and asks Suguru to help him!!!)

4AM by damiselart

"Larger than life K-pop idol, Satoru, approaches introverted record producer, Getō Suguru, to collaborate on his debut Japanese-language studio album. They both get more out of the experience than expected — for better and for worse."

(Tattoo artist Geto and model Gojo. Hot as fuck.)

Post-It Notes by monochromevelyn

"Shoko was sick of watching her two best friends pining for each other. Don't worry, she had a plan to move things in the right direction."

The Two-Headed Calf by malneiro

"Gojo gets a knock on his door late at night: Getou is sick and Mimiko and Nanako don't know who else to turn to."

Vows to Amida Butsu -

" Gojo has a great idea. Geto thinks his classmate should at least ask him cutely instead of just announcing his intent. Consent is important, after all."

and Long Bitter Autumn - both by Daphnerunning and Galiko

"Five years after his best friend left Jujutsu High to become an evil overlord, Gojo Satoru can't sleep. And there's not THAT much difference between a butt dial and a booty call, semantically speaking."

There are so many amazing satosugu fics and most of the writers listed here have multiple incredible fics but these are just some of my absolute faves!!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[jflemings]

— she looks so perfect

pairing: ucla!jessie fleming x ucla!reader / self titled series

synopsis: jessie’s moving to london and she has every intention of taking you with her

warnings: mentions of a rocky familial relationship

a/n: 5sos was the first fandom i was ever in and their self titled album will forever hold a very special place in my heart, so here’s this fic in honour of it being almost 11 years since i first saw the band live :’)

୧ ‧₊˚ 🌹 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Let's get out, let's get out / 'Cause this deadbeat town's only here just to keep us down / While I was out / I found myself alone, just thinkin' / If I showed up with a plane ticket / And a shiny diamond ring with your name on it / Would you wanna run away too? / 'Cause all I really want is you

jessie’s so stupidly in love with you that it’s ridiculous.

it’s a wonder she’s even gotten as far as she has in her career, because all she thinks of all day, every day is you you you.

she knew from the moment teagan introduced the two of you that she’d be at your mercy for the rest of her life. she knew that it didn’t matter if she never made a move, you would follow her and plague her brain until the end of time.

it was the unwavering, immovable feelings that drove her to the door of your dorm room at two in the morning during freshman year finals week. she had been cramming and completely overloading her brain with so much information that she snapped. in her unrested and borderline delirious mind, the best time to confess her feelings to you was during one of the most stressful weeks of the year.

she had banged her knee against her desk when she stood after having the genius revelation, waking teagan up from where she was hunched over her psychology textbook. she had merely told her roommate and friend that she ‘had something important to tell you’ before marching her ass straight to you.

her nerve never faulted, even after you opened the door looking both ridiculously sleep deprived and gorgeous as ever. you couldn’t even get a word in before she was spilling her guts.

“i really like you” jessie says with wide eyes “and i’m well aware that this probably isn’t the best time to tell you this, but the lack of sleep is getting to me and, unfortunately, i have found myself here”

you nod along to her word vomit, taking it all in and processing what you can. you cock your head and smile “it’s about time fleming” you say teasingly “i’ve been waiting for you to make a move all year”

jessie gawks at you “excuse me?”

“yeah. i didn’t want to say anything because i figured that you’d come to me when you were ready” you take a long sip of your coffee before continuing “didn’t think it would take you this long though”

“you knew i liked you all along and didn’t say anything? how could you let me embarrass myself like that!” she groans as she wipes a hand down her face “jesus” she mumbles.

you shake your head “it wasn’t embarrassing, jess. i thought it was cute the way you’d tell teags and olivia to shut up everytime they made jokes about it when they thought i wasn’t listening”

“yeah. awesome” she grumbles more to herself then to you.

checking your watch, your eyebrows crease “i’m gonna head to bed but come grab me for coffee tomorrow morning? we can get bagels from that place you like”

jessie’s head shoots up in shock “what? like a date?”

“yes, jess. like a date” you smile crookedly

“okay” she says smiling before beginning to step back “how’s ten sound?”

“ten sounds perfect”

that date eventually led her here, in your shared apartment staring at a ring. she’d put any money she could spare away to get it for you and although it wasn’t anything glamorous with a big rock, it was something that she knew you’d like. the canadian had been waiting for the perfect moment to propose to you, but since signing her first professional contract with chelsea, she’d been running out of time.

she fiddles with the box in her hand as she sits on the end of your bed. her thoughts are so loud that she almost doesn’t hear the front door slam and you curse as you make your way to the bedroom. she scrambles to dive over to her side of the bed, messing up the made sheets, as she hastily puts the box in her bedside table. the drawer slams at the same time you open the door.

jessie turns to face you, a cheesy grin on her face as your sentence dies on your tongue.

you cock your head “what are you doing?”

“nothing!” she says all too quickly as she sits up “what are you doing?”

“figuring out how to tell my mother that she doesn’t run my life” you sniffle and drop your bag.

jessie stands quickly and walks towards you, already grabbing your face and wiping the few stray tears that have fallen. she hadn’t noticed that you were crying when she first saw you, but your red rimmed, slightly puffy eyes, tell her that you started before you even walk through the door.

“what happened?” she asks as she guides you to sit on the bed

“she just—” you groan and furiously wipe at your eyes “she just doesn’t get it! she still treats me like a clueless kid who doesn’t know what they want in life. she says that my degree isn’t gonna get me anywhere and that i should just quit while i’m ahead and get a real job”

jessie frowns and tenderly pulls your hands away from your face so you don’t make your eyes more irritated. she holds your hands delicately in her lap and guides your head to rest on her shoulder. you turn into the crook of her neck and sniffle some more.

“and she thinks that you moving to london is even more of a reason for me to go back home” you mumble against the skin of jessie’s neck “it’s so stupid”

“just come with me” she blurts out.

your head shoots up from the crook of her neck, eyes wide and jaw hung “what?”

jessie gulps “i said just come with me. to london”

“jessie are you crazy?”

“no!” there’s a pause “not really” she mumbles.

“i— are you fucking with me right now?” you ask in complete disbelief.

the topic of jessie’s move had been mostly avoided by the two of you because of the uncertainty surrounding the future of your relationship. you both knew that you wanted to stay together, but long distance was scary, and the both of you were still young.

“no” she answers with a little more confidence “i want you to come to london with me. i want to make a life with you that no one else can interfere in, i want to take the next step in my life with you.”

silence rolls over the two of you and doubt starts settling in jessie’s mind. maybe you weren’t ready for that with her, maybe you didn’t even want to continue being with her, maybe this was a bad time, or too soon, or maybe she’d read it all wrong and you actually were considering going home. maybe—

“okay” you breathe “okay. i’ll come to london”

jessie’s eyes go wide “seriously?”

“seriously” you nod.

she jumps up in front of you like she’s going to run somewhere before she stops. her eyes dart to her bedside table over your shoulder before quickly looking back at you.

you look over your shoulder “what was that”

“what was what” she rushes out, still unmoving.

“that look, what was that look?”

“look? what look? no look”

the two of you stare at eachother for a moment, both not speaking as you try to wordlessly figure out what jessie could be hiding. she’s still standing in a half bent over position with her feet pointing opposite directions like an idiot, and you think she resembles a cornered animal.

your eyes flick to the side of you and you make the split second decision to throw caution to the wind and dive to her bedside table.

“no! wait!” jessie shouts as she dives after you, but she’s too late. by the time she’s looming over you from behind, you’ve already got her bedside drawer open.

you hear her suck in a sharp breath from above you.

slowly, you pull out the black velvet ring box that looks back at you. it’s sitting on top of a half-read book, a stack of post it notes and jessie’s old broken phone charger. it’s a stark contrast to the disorganised mess that is jessie’s bedside table.

you pull it out and pop it open slowly, revealing a simple silver band with a small diamond. you gasp “jessie”

jessie sighs and sits back on her knees, allowing you to sit up with one leg thrown over the edge of the bed.

“it’s not— i wasn’t—” jessie tries to explain, but the words keep dying in her throat. she sighs again “you weren’t meant to see that”

you look up at her “when did you get this?”

“i don’t know, a couple months ago maybe?” she rubs the back of her neck “there’s never been a right time and with me moving, i just didn’t know if that’s what you wanted”

“you thought i wouldn’t want to marry you?” you ask in disbelief, the shock evident on your face.

“there was a point where i thought you wouldn’t wanna be with me period” she huffs out a half assed laugh before her hands settle in her lap.

you shake your head and and push the box into jessie’s hands “are you gonna sit there and look pretty or are you gonna ask me to marry you?” you sass her with a glint in your eye.

jessie’s jaw drops “what? right now? i don’t— i don’t have a speech or anything!”

you wave your hand about “as if i give a fuck about a prepared speech jess. everytime you speak to me it’s like a declaration of love, say whatever comes to mind”

the midfielder scrambles off the bed and onto one knee in front of you, her hands slightly shaky and completely unprepared. she clears her throat “y/n” she starts.

you give her an encouraging nod.

jessie nods along with you “there’s a lot of things in life that i’m proud of, but everytime someone asks me what i’m most proud of my first thought is you. you, who is so selfless and so determined to make a better life from the cards that you were dealt. you, who has chosen everyday to to show kindness to those who may not have been the most kind to you.”

your vision goes cloudy when you see jessie’s tearing up. she wipes her eyes before continuing.

“there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t picture you in my life. every mile stone, every big life moment, you’re right there by my side. i would follow you to the end of the earth and back three times over if you needed me to, and i know you’d do the same for me” she clears her throat again “you’ve made me the best version of myself and there’s no one else i’d rather spend the rest of my life with. so, will you marry me?”

“about time fleming!” you half sob, half laugh as you throw your arms around her neck “oh my god, of course i’ll marry you!”

you pull off her and she shakily puts the ring on your finger. cupping her face, you wipe her tears and tuck some hair behind her ears “i love you” you say as you kiss her hard.

jessie’s arms wrap around your waist and she begins to stand, taking you with her. she walks you back until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you sit down. jessie steps between your legs and breaks the kiss “i believe we have some plane tickets to buy”

you roll your eyes and bunch your fist up in the collar of her shirt “mhm later” you say lowly as you pull her down to your level to kiss her again “gotta show my fiancé how much i adore her”

——

you had booked your tickets that night and almost immediately began thinking of things you were going to be able to sell for some extra cash. now almost two months later, you’d still chosen to not to tell people that you were moving, or that you were engaged, and you’d been dodging your mother’s calls since that last conversation with her.

you knew she wouldn’t agree with you moving or marrying so young, despite how much she claimed she loved jessie, so the two of you thought it would be best to not even let her know until you were in london.

you put the money you got from selling your dresser into an envelope that you needed to take to the bank, and sigh “glad that’s done” you say as jessie walks into the kitchen.

her arm lazily wraps around her waist and she kisses your cheek “at least now we can just live out of boxes” she says as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.

your hand comes up to cup the side of her head “you make it sound ideal”

“well, now we know when we’ve packed too much”

“i’ve already gotten rid of so many of my clothes”

“and you’ve still got so many more” she says cheekily as she unwraps herself from you “don’t worry about it, if you don’t want to get rid of anything else we can ship some stuff up to my parent’s place and they can send it over when we get more settled”

you rub your face“it’s okay, there’s still some things that i’ve been meaning to get rid of. i really don’t want to take all of it”

“we’ve got a month before we leave. that’s enough time to sell whatever you want” she says as she puts her hand over your left “stop stressing. with our combined savings we’re going to be fine for a little while, and you’ve got that job lined up. there’s nothing to worry about”

you nod and turn fully to look at her, cupping her face in your hands “i know”

jessie raises an eyebrow “say it”

“we’re going to be fine” you sigh

jessie smiles as kisses you “yes we are”

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

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You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

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All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

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Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

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During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

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Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[memescomicswriting]

Okay, but here me out … modern!Aegon x reader Casual coded

I know that our Queen Miss Roan did not write this song about a man and the fandom has dubbed it one of the Rhaneyra x Alicent songs. However, as a bi I can attest that this song can apply no matter the team you bat for. It especially applies when the situationship is with someone who’s emotional attachment skills fluctuate whenever the wind blows. So Aegon.

Modern!Aegon, maybe you met in college through overlapping friend groups. He likes to party, your friends like to party. This continues past graduation.

My friends call me a loser/ 'Cause I'm still hanging around

Whether you’re still in uni or not, your friends think it’s time for you to mature and move forward from this cycle you have with Aegon. He’s not good for your health.

I've heard so many rumors/ That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

Your friends fill you in on what’s being said about you as a part of their reasoning.

“See how he talks about you. And you stay?”

I thought you thought of me better/ Someone you couldn't lose/ You said, "We're not together"/ So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

You confront him about what he’s been saying to his mates, but that silver tongue of his can smooth anything over. When you’re alone, he’s so sweet and you’re putty in his hands.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"/ But we're/ Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out

Aegon’s got big Peter Pan energy. He bolts at any form of responsibility and that includes the responsibility of maintaining a relationship. He doesn’t want to grow up, his partying years to end, and to take on the role his parents have carved out for him. He’s afraid that if he commits to you it’s a sign he’s ready to commit to his future.

Is it causal now

He likes you. He wants you. Maybe as close to love as he can get. But he’s Aegon, so he keeps you at arm’s length despite demanding the intimacy.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

However, you’ve been around long enough that his parents do know you. They’ve seen your face enough. When he has an event that needs a date he always brings you.

I know what you tell your friends/ It's casual

It’s what he tells them when they’re high at 3am and the question comes up again. He can’t bring himself to say it’s anything more.

Then, baby, get me off again/ If it's casual, it's casual now

You always fall back into his bed. He’s addicting. You love the rush and thrill being with him gives you. You crave it despite the burn you receive every time you crash out.

Dumb love, I love being stupid/ Dream of us in a year/ Maybe we'd have an apartment/ And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

Despite your better judgment, you still go to that delulu headspace. It’s the post orgasm high and he’s being so sweet and gentle. Maybe he’s finally changing.

I know, "Baby, no attachment"

And then his words are bringing you crashing down into the reality of it all.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out/ Is it casual now?

And yet he gives you these intimate moments. They almost feel sacrosanct. And you’re thrown in the whirlwind of emotions again only to be smacked down.

It's hard being casual/ When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

You’re with him so goddamn often that his neighbors think you share the apartment.

And it's hard being casual/ When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

You’ve been at this for so long. You know him. You know Helena. She treats you as if you’re some pillar, some constant, someone who’s always been in the family.

And I try to be the chill girl/ That holds her tongue and gives you space/ I try to be the chill girl

You try so fucking hard to please him. You’re trying so goddamn hard to suppress all your desires that will scare him off. It’s like he’s given you a 4x4 dimension of space to take up in his life, but you’re a 5x5. You’re tipping over and bleeding out.

But honestly, I'm not

For some unknown reason on some random day, the scale finally tips to far. Like a spring that’s been coiled and tightened as far as it can go, you bounce back with force.

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner/ Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Maybe that was the moment. You’re thinking he’s finally taking this seriously if you’re having a one on one dinner with his family for no special occasion. His parents compliment his growth. You’re more than willing to comply when he drags you off to the bathroom. You think you’re both caught up in the evening. When return is when you realize it was all to antagonize his parents. You go home alone.

Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it/ I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't

You confront him the next time you see him. For the first time you actually catch him talking with his friends about you. He’s gotten bold to do it with you around. You nearly blackout while burning with rage. You’re spewing every hurtful thing you’ve ever thought while he’s dragging you into a private space.

“What the hell was that?”

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself/ Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The invisible string that’s connected the two of you, he’s stretched so far that it’s finally snapped. You’re furious but you’re finally free. And you leave him. Not like any other time before, where you were meek and teary eyed. There’s no “I love you, but…” No, you’re red faced, voice hoarse, no decorum letting him have it. Everything.

You leave him a stuttering mess. Nothing left to say. Nothing to go back to. You’re broken but you’re free.

And his pain is just beginning.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

New years eve party (modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader, side Alysmond)

synopsis: Every year you and your friend throw a new years eve party for all the singles in your building. When you first invite the new neighbour he declines, only a year later it seems like everything has changed.

warnings: Alys being a bad girlfriend, alcohol, self induldent fluff at the end, afab reader

word count: 2.8k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: The year is about to end so happy new year to everyone!

The first time Aemond and you meet, he just moved into the apartment complex, two floors beneath you and your flat mate and best friend. It's late in the year already so you decide to welcome him to the building with some Christmas cookies in hand.

"Hello. I saw you move in here last week and wanted to welcome you to the building." You offer your hand to shake after he opens the door with a questioningly arched eyebrow. Aemond isn't a man of many words you learn quickly.

"Thank you, that's... nice." The platinum blond shakes your hand and takes the cookies from you. "I'm Aemond. Aemond Targaryen. And you are?"

You give him your name. "If you ever need anything, I live two floors above. All you need to do is knock."

Aemond nods curtly.

"Oh and since new years is right around the corner, we always throw a little party for all the singles in the building. You should stop by if you want. We won't bite, I promise." The smile on your face refuses to fade even with his rather cold demeanor.

"Again, thank you, but..." A feminine voice interrupts him.

"Aemond, love, who is there?" The woman who the voice belongs to appears in the door frame as well. Holding onto your new neighbors arm almost possessively.

"Hi, I'm your new neighbor from two floors above. I just wanted to introduce myself real quick and bring over some cookies." You state. Your smile falters a bit as you see the gorgeous dark haired woman.

"Well, you did that now, didn't you? We still have lots to unpack so you'll have to excuse us." She says in a clearly faked friendly tone that hides nothing of her words true meaning. To stay away from both of them.

"Sure. I'm sorry for bothering you in the middle of moving. How silly of me. Have a nice day." You give them a small wave and go back to your apartment.

You couldn't lie to yourself about the disappointment you felt at the sight of Aemond's girlfriend, but he was attractive so was it really a surprise he wasn't single? You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts when a key turns in the door.

"I'm home!" Sarah calls out as the sound of her keys hitting the ceramic bowl sounds through the apartment.

"I'm in the living room." You answer back.

"Hey, how was your day?" She asks with a relaxed smile.

"Same old, same old." You mutter, still kinda in thought.

Together you go to the kitchen to cook, like every night, when you decide to speak up about what happened.

"Have you met the neighbors from two floors down yet?" Curiosity coats your tone as you try to remain nonchalant.

"I thought it was only one. That weird, blond guy. I've seen him around once or twice." Sarah busies herself by stirring in one of the pots.

"Yeah him and his girlfriend. I went to welcome him today and she was really possessive and borderline bitchy. Like, she couldn't get me out of their bubble again fast enough. Didn't even give me her name." Your eyebrows furrow and your nose scrunches up slightly at the memory.

"Maybe she felt threatened by you?" Sarah chuckles and then a moment of silence follows. "Now that you mention her though... I did hear a woman yelling on my way up here earlier."

That´s the end of the topic for then as the two of you change to lighter topics of conversation.

However, the strangers keep occupying your mind. After Sarah tells you about the altercation, you hear them on and off as well, only to see them madly in love the next time you saw them.

New year’s eve passes and so does Sarah´s and your party. The night going by as eventless as it could. Probably because everyone is drunk off their tits, but when you wake up in bed next to one of your neighbors, you just feel bad. You couldn´t even put your finger on what exactly made you feel this way. It just feels wrong. Okay that wasn't entirely right. If you were just a little more honest with yourself you would know that it was because your brain had decided to spend its free time romanticizing the idea of Aemond and how it would be to be in a relationship not only in general, but with him. Dreaming of him wasn't a rare occurrence and whenever you met him at the mailbox, you could feel yourself blushing as if you were in middle school. Simultaneously not far from you, as the months progressed, Aemond's relationship deteriorated more and more. Alys had grown gradually more jealous and toxic to a point where even he couldn't excuse her behavior anymore. Which hurt more than he would ever want to admit. The two break up and make up almost regularly. The day she tells him she is pregnant however, is the day things escalate. You hear the fight even in your apartment. There's screaming, slamming doors and after about an hour there's complete silence.

Like the good (and slightly worried) neighbor that you are, you make your way down the stairs, knocking quietly on the hard wood.

In a matter of seconds the door gets opened with a rather energetic and aggressive motion.

"Alys, I told you it's..." Aemond growled until he realized it is you who had knocked and not his ex-girlfriend. "Fuck, sorry. I didn't realize we were that loud. I promise it won't happen again."

"No, it's... It's alright. It sounded bad though. Are you good?" Your eyes soften and scan his presence.

The knuckles of his right hand were pressed into an ice pack, his chest heaves with every sharp breath. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, before he answers.

"Yeah, I mean no, but yeah." His one seeing eye drops towards the floor, unable to look at you. It's obvious he doesn't want to talk and you are not one to pry for answers, so you leave it.

"Okay. Um, if you need something, anything. You know where to knock." You give Aemond a sympathetic smile.

Against all your hopes, he actually does knock on your door a week or so later. Granted it is only for some eggs, but still. A win is a win, you tell yourself as you hand him the carton with the eggs he had requested.

"Fuck, thank you. Really. I don't know where my head is these days." Aemond scratches the back of his neck, giving you a perfect peak of his boxers underneath the grey sweatpants. He must've just come from his morning run.

"No problem at all. I did tell you that you could ask for anything if you needed it after all." You assure him.

"Hm, you did. Still... You'll definitely get those back."

Before much more of a conversation can start up, he is gone again. A pattern that continues for the next couple of months, even though he does warm up to you noticeably without Alys´ influence around. Going as far as to even give a small smile here and there. What shocks you the most however, is when he stops you by the mailbox one day close to the beginning of December.

“So, uhm, I know it´s still a while until new year’s, but I just remembered that you told me about this party you and Sarah have every year.”

“Yeah, what about it?” You look up from the mail to meet his eye and tilt your head.

“I was wondering if that invitation still stands by chance?” His brow is furrowed and his tongue swipes out to wet his lips.

Aemond's question makes your heart beat faster. "Of course. Definitely. I'd be happy to see you there." A wide smile spreads your lips.

From previous talks you had gathered that the blond wasn't much of a party animal, but then again neither were you.

“We usually start around eight, but it´s all very relaxed, really.” You inform him and then say your goodbye as the two of you reach his door.

Until the day of the party the two of you only see each other in passing. Giving a quick nod or wave and a smile to the other as you made your way wherever you had to be. Even the evening of it feels like you are constantly running around. Between preparing snacks and drinks, greeting people left and right, refilling stuff and taking shots and dancing with Sarah there wasn't a single moment to chill, before the doorbell rings one final time for the evening.

"Aem! You made it!" You call out happily and as his eye meets yours he witnesses your face lighting up visibly. The nickname for sure is a surprise at first, but taking in the scent of alcohol in your breath, it all checks out. Still it gets his heart to beat faster, before he can answer anything you already pull him inside. The shots Sarah had made you do, made you even more high energy than you usually were. Yet the moment you take his hand to pull him inside, you feel a strange, warm calm run through you follows by a shiver down the spine.

"You almost had me scared you forgot about me." You tease as the two of you sit down on the sofa with a drink in hand.

"I could never forget about you, but my brother called and tried to convince me to go to some party at some stupid club. Let's just say he was never the best at accepting the word no."

"Oh, you have a brother?" Your eyebrows rise so far Aemond is certainly convinced they are about to touch your hair line.

"Yeah. Two brothers actually and a sister." He admits.

"Wow and are you close with them?" As an only child you could only hardly understand what it was like to have siblings. Even if Sarah had tried to explain it to you multiple times.

"We're as close as we can be, I'd say."

"Huh, for some reason I always pegged you to be an only child..."

"How's that?" He asks while the two of you sip on your drinks, lost in the conversation.

"I don't know, probably because of your dark and mysterious brooding nature?” Playfully you pull your chin higher. “Anyway, now that you are here, do you want to dance?”

“How could I ever say no to that question…”

Over the declining bass of the music, a soft knock on the bathroom door echoes through the room. You hadn´t even noticed someone turning down the music It could have been minutes or hours since you entered the room for all you knew. Aemond´s voice calling out directly after. With a groan you lift your head off the cold tiles on the floor. "It's open...” The blond steps in and closes the door behind him immediately so noone else would see you in that state. Curled up on the floor with your forehead resting against the cold tiles in an attempt to cool down and fight the nausea that climbs up your throat. "Oh I'm dreaming of you again." Your speech is slurred and quiet as if talking any louder would make you vomit. "If I wouldn't be dreaming and if you would be really here, then I would tell you I love you." "You're drunk." He murmurs and shakes his head. "Yes. And hopelessly in love with you." You argue with a weak voice. Nevertheless you wrap your arms tightly around him as he picks you up off the floor. There is no lying about the state of inebriation you are in, but the conviction with which you speak also tells that you are speaking the truth. Even though he doesn't want to believe it yet. "Come on, let's get you to bed." Aemond sighs and begins to more or less carry you back to your room. "No..." You whine in protest. "I wanna go back to the party. I'm not even tired yet. Let's dance."

You're like a child, the blond thinks as he rolls his eyes. "No. No more dancing tonight. The party is over, it's bedtime now." "Awww come on, Aem..." You give him your best try at a puppy eyes look, which is only half successful. Ending up more as just a pout.

Aemond´s heart beats faster at the nickname once again. Something it had done quite often in the past months whenever he saw or spoke to you he notices. Gods, he can hear his brothers laugh at him for being like this when it came to emotional matters. He doubted the excuse of Alys having fucked him up in that regard was applicable, when you where so different from her. Carefully Aemond lays you down on your bed. Taking the shoes off your already half asleep form. By the time Aemond pulls the blanket over you, the sound of soft snoring already fills the room.

The next morning you wake up alone, fully dressed, with a massive headache, a bottle of water and a note on the bedside table for the first time in a while. Telling yourself that this was exactly the reason why you never drank and swearing to every deity above or below that it would never happen again. Groaning some more at the brightness that streams through the window, you sit up in bed to take a sip of water and the pain killer right beside it. With the cotton mouth successfully fought off, you turn to the note. Wondering where the paper even came from you notice how neat and pretty the curly letters are written. The name of the addresser jumps into your eyes next. Signed at the bottom. Aemond Targaryen. As you read his name, your eyes eagerly jump to the top of the page.

I hope this note finds you well and the pain killers help any hangover you might take away from last night. I had a lot of fun with you. Also, you snore when you sleep.

Aemond Targaryen

“Fuck…” You curse under your breath. Trying to remember last night makes the headache only worse, but at least there are no gaps in your memory. Left with the memory of the blond helping your drunk self into bed, you decide to apologize to him. Freshening up and putting on some comfortable clothes, you climb down the stairs in the evening.

“Come in.” Aemond greets you with a smile as he sees the way you flinch ever so slightly at a door slamming shut somewhere.

“Thanks.” Gratefully you sit in his living room, while Aemond gets you a cup of coffee. “I- uhm, I came to apologize for last night.”

“For what?” His brows furrow together so much they almost become one.

“For getting so drunk that you had to carry me to bed. I usually am not like this at all.” Regret laces your words.

“Oh, that. Don´t sweat it. I´m kind of used to it and I still had a lot of fun.” Aemond assures immediately, but it does little to reduce the shame at your own behaviour.

“No, no. Even if you are used to it, I shouldn´t have done that. It was so stupid and unfair to you.” You lay your forehead into one hand and sigh.

“Why did you even drink so much in the first place?” He inquires.

“I kind of wanted to ask you out… but then when I threatened to chicken out so Sarah told me to drink something for courage and somewhere something became a little more and then we ended where we ended.” You feel your face begin to burn at the admission.

“You wanted to what?” A soft pink flush lays over his cheeks.

“I wanted to ask you out…” You repeat even quieter than before.

“Well, you could still do that, if you so wish to.” Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage as you take in his words.

Your eyes grow wide and your lips part as you look back up at him. Stumbling over your words for a while before you get out a clear sentence. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yes, I´d like that very much. There is a new restaurant that I´ve been meaning to try out. Maybe I could pick you up in an hour?” The request makes you happier than anything. Overshadowing any of the shame you had felt previously.

“Yes, oh my god absolutely.” You jump up in a flurry of excitement, that entirely chases off the remnants of hangover. “Just give me an hour.”

The smiles on both of your faces grow incredibly big, reaching your eyes for the first time in a long time. When you go, it is so hastily you have to be careful not to fall up the stairs and even Aemond feels a certain type of happy as he changes into something more fitting with his heart skipping in his chest.

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 2

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed heavily as the tomato I'd set on the counter and turned my back on for two seconds rolled onto the floor and went splat. Some days were just meant to be shitty, apparently.

Today had started out perfectly nice and ordinary. The sun had even been shining, which was a miracle in itself sometimes in Gotham. But then, I'd left my bag unattended at the coffee shop while grabbing my order from the counter, before returning to my table. It didn't have anything legitimately valuable in it, in terms of what the thief got, but it did have my favorite copy of my favorite book, which I'd had for the better part of a decade. All my little notes, bookmarked favorite pages, and the first edition put into print before a few typos and errors were corrected on later runs; in other words, irreplacable. And now it was gone forever.

The rest of my day had likewise been terrible, although normally mundane events might've been colored a little by the loss of my book. Now, all I wanted to do was eat something I liked and then immediately go to bed. And even that wasn't going to plan.

I huffed, setting down the knife I'd grabbed when I turned my back on the tomato and intending to replace it with some paper towels. I froze mid-turn, however, at the sound of the window in my hallway sliding open. Because of course this day hadn't ended yet.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, I turned back to the counter and picked up the knife. I knew I'd locked that window, but apparently someone had managed to just quietly and easily slide it open. That wasn't a good sign.

I crept across the kitchen, tensed and ready to run at a moment's notice as I neared the corner to the hallway. I wanted to see who or what I might be dealing with, while also being prepared to run if I needed to.

I paused at the edge of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Finally, I mustered up the courage to slowly lean around the corner to peek into the hallway. When I did, I found someone standing much, much closer than I'd been expecting them to be.

"AH!" I screamed, jumping back while brandishing the knife out in front of me. I made it halfway across the room in one leap as the person in my house shifted backwards too.

"Shit," he swore, voice slightly distorted by the vocal modulator in his very recognizable helmet. The Red Hood. Standing in my apartment, apparently after having broken through my window.

I lowered my knife slightly and stopped in my living room, just a few steps from my kitchen. I wasn't completely relaxed, but in general, the Red Hood seemed to have a helpful, non-dangerous-if-you're-not-evil reputation. But he'd also just broken into my house.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. Red Hood held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and apparently also to answer my question: he held a familiar bag I thought I'd never see again in his hand.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't think anyone was here, I was planning to just drop this off and go. But I busted some black market smugglers today, and one of their lower-ranking guys had this. Seemed like something you might want back."

I barely let him get through the end of his sentence before I dropped the knife on the nearest table and rushed across the room to grab my bag. I yanked it open while it was still in Red Hood's hands, peering inside with my heart hammering in my chest. I almost collapsed on the spot when I found my book inside, looking exactly the way I'd left it.

"Oh thank goodness!" I cried. I turned back to Red Hood, still clutching my book tight. "Thank you so much for bringing this back to me! I was heartbroken when it got taken."

Red Hood just shrugged. "Glad I could help."

He started shifting back towards the door, carefully setting my bag and the rest of its contents down on the counter, but I couldn't just let him leave like that. He'd quite literally saved my day; I wanted to do something for him in return.

"Wait! Can I... offer you dinner, or something?" I asked. "I was about to start making some tacos..."

Red Hood's gaze drifted to the kitchen as mine did, landing on the pitiful start I'd made on dinner and the tomato still on the floor. I couldn't be totally sure because of the helmet, but I thought I heard him snort.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but that doesn't look anything like dinner. Maybe next time I bust some criminals I'll find a cookbook I can bring you."

I scoffed in mock-indignation, but I couldn't quite hide a smile all the same.

"I know how to cook, alright? Today's just been... a little rough. Until you brought my book back, at least!"

Red Hood chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Makes my day a lot better, too."

We shared a smile (I assumed, since I couldn't technically see his face), then I lit up as a shock of inspiration hit me.

"Oh! What if I let you borrow this book!" I cried. "It's absolutley fantastic, I promise you won't forget it. Since you knew it was important, I'm assuming you're a reader?"

He stared at me, looking a bit taken aback.

"I'm a very big reader, but... you'd actually let me borrow this?"

He gestured to the book still clutched tightly in my hand, and I whipped it up to my chest again, holding it tight to me.

"Hell no! I won't let anyone borrow this copy, ever. But I have a loaner copy I've used to get my friends invested in the story that I'd be happy to share with you. And... maybe you could come back when you're done reading it, and we could talk about it? Maybe over dinner? I promise I'm a better cook than the current state of my kitchen would suggest."

He didn't respond right away, to the point that I started to get a little nervous. Maybe he'd really wanted to leave when he'd first started heading back to the window, and didn't want anything to do with me or this conversation. Just when I started crafting something to say to let him off the hook, he finally spoke up again.

"...As long as you're sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you."

"What? Of course I'm sure! If you're interested, I'd love someone else to talk to about my favorite book. And I'd still love to make you dinner as a thank you for bringing this back to me."

Red Hood nodded. "Okay. That'd be nice, thanks."

"Sure thing. Let me go and grab you my other copy of this book, one second."

I ducked into my bedroom, going straight to the bedside table and carefully setting down my copy of my favorite book. No way I wanted to take a single risk of anything happening to it again.

Once that book was safe, I turned to my brimming bookshelf to grab the copy for Red Hood. Only a fellow reader would understand the importance of returning the copy he brought back to me, and honestly, I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the story after his first read through.

I returned to the hallway and handed the book over with a smile. Red Hood took it, tucking it safely away in a deceptively large pocket in his hero suit.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll come back in... a week?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Is that enough time for you to read it?"

"Of course. I've gotta do something to fill the time I'm not running around catching book thieves."

I smiled, and I got the distinct impression that Red Hood was doing the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and started heading back towards the window again.

"Anyway... thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."

"See you next week! Bring your thoughts on the book, and maybe a different mask so you can actually eat dinner."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to try to force it under the hood."

"Good. And feel free to use the door instead of the window next time!"

He just waved, clearly making no commitment as he stepped out onto the fire escape. I smiled as I watched him go, waving back when he met my eyes and shut the window. I moved closer and watched him as long as I could before he disappeared over the rooftops, off into the night for whatever other vigilante stuff he had to do tonight.

I sighed, staying at the window for another moment to process the past ten minutes. Everything had started to feel like a hallicination, possibly brought on by my truly terrible day.

No matter what, though, I could reassure myself it was real with the newly-returned book on my bedside table, or the knife I'd left in my living room. Somehow, my precious copy of my favorite story had made its way back to me. And even better, I now had a date with a vigilante scheduled to address said book.

I just needed to figure out what dinner went with 'Red Hood comes over to discuss literature'.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin

[toomiieimagiines]

Akito kissing hcs

EEEEK! i actually am a fan of akito!!^_^ i think he’s very handsome! tell me what you think about these banners! i’m loving it unfortunately… makes it so much easier to make ‘em! obligatory sorry for OOCness, i don’t read the story’s half as much as i should!^_^” (omg also i wrote this while drinking a diet baja blast OMGGGG it’s so good)

Akito Shinonome kissing hc’s + more!!

He’s such a bully!

He knows how much you love kissing him, and uses it against you…

He can be seriously unbelievable…

Like he will give you the bestest kiss and than just…. leave you there

Will give a super super mean oblivious laugh when you ask him where he’s going…

“Huhhh? I thought we were finished, I have rehearsal, y’know..”

Messes with you cuz he knows it’ll make you so so frustrated:(

He’s really not trying to be mean!! He just loves you so much, and thinks that your angry face is really cute…

I wish I could say his lips aren’t chapped…

Literally LAYERS on chapstick too. He doesn’t know why it never works, and refuses to use the heavy duty ones because they “taste bad”

Tastes citrusy, he refuses to admit that he puts chapstick on

Will sometimes also taste like coffee (He likes it sweet, please don’t make fun of him. He really did try to be a bad boy and drink it black, he almost threw up.)

Is kinda rough if he’s had a bad day…

Bit your lip a little too hard one day and it started bleeding… He felt really bad…

Can and WILL grab you by the waist though… He’s not heartless! He can be a gentleman!

He is NOT above the occasional cheek cup if he’s feeling nice!

Talks smack and all, but one time he followed your kiss when you tried to break apart…

He was really embarrassed… needed a couple hours to stare at the wall

He knew then that every dynamic he thought you two had was a lie….

another mini fic!! >_< sorry if my posts have been feeling short, none of the asks i’ve answered have sparked me with enough inspiration for something long…^_^|||~ reminder you don’t have to only send pjsk asks! i’m in almost every fandom… =_=

Sometimes you wonder if your boyfriend enjoys watching you suffer, and it may sound weird to say it out loud, but you’re truly starting to believe he’s a sadist! What other explanation could there be for something this cruel?! It’s been about half an hour since you’ve given up, but you can’t stop thinking about it.

“Babe,” he chuckles, relishing in your frustrated expression. “Quit pouting, you’re being quiet.”

“‘M not pouting,” You defend. Spoiler alert, you WERE pouting, but you can’t help it! You’ve tried to go in for a kiss three times already, and he’s ‘coincidentally’ not noticed. He has to notice! There’s no way he’s hasn’t!

“Sure…” He laughs again, and that royally pissed you off. Just that boyish grin was enough to make you faint for a million years! How dare he do this to you?! You let out a noise of annoyance.

“I’m gonna get you, even if it kills me!” You let go of his hand, deciding to stuff yours in your - well technically his, since you’re wearing his jacket- pockets. This makes his eye twitch.

“What are you even talking about?” He snatches your hand back out of your pocket, and you can’t help but laugh - despite the frustration. He obviously can’t stomach the taste of his own medicine, so you pull your hand away again - much to his displeasure. “Quit doin’ that!” He stops walking, deciding to grab both of your hands.

“Doing what??” You play dumb, mocking his original cockiness as you pull your hands away.

“Doing that! Hold my han-“ He stops, realizing what’s happening, “you’re petty. You’re REALLY petty. I did that like 30 minutes ago!”

“If you let me kiss you I’ll hold your hand again.” You offer, shrugging with fake indifference. He sighs, he feels like a dog begging for a bone. He shouldn’t have teased you…

“You make me act like a total chump, I don’t like it.” He grumbles, leaning down slightly to give you better access, you intertwine your hands. HA! You won.

You close the gap, feeling his lips against yours. They’re slightly chapped, tasting of a fruit you can’t quite put your finger on. Your heart immediately settled, enjoying the warm feeling of your boyfriend. It feels like you’re mad for eachother, the shape of his lips molding into yours perfectly. The two of you stayed there for a while, before you realized a full out makeout session in public isn’t the best look for either of you. But as you tried to pull away, you found a stumbling Akito following the kiss, almost falling on top of you. His eyes shoot open once he realized what he just did

“I-“ His face is red when he looks away, you snicker. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“You love me!~” You say in a sing-song tone, teasing him.

“I-“ He sighs, sounding defeated. “I do!…”

He was spacey for the rest of your walk home, staring down at the pavement. All he could think of is how weak he is to you.

‘God, I’m totally whipped!’

[sunnyie-eve]

5. Beautiful

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Series: Devious Opportunity

Pairing: (Aegon II Targaryen x Cousin! OFC Targaryen!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Notes: Hinted Smut, Incest, Pregnancy, Childbirth,

| MASTERLIST |

The two pass time catching up and just talking and sitting in silence. At the moment Aegon had his head resting on her lap as she played with his hair, "Lets go for a ride on Sunfyre." He sits up with a smile.

"And we run into my father up there on his way back?" She laughs.

"What if we just fly far away? Leave Westeros together. No one to stop us from seeing and talking to each other."

"Aegon, I can't do that." She tells him so he shuts her up by leaning in with his hand cupping the back of her skull making their lips touch. Aegon let his tears fall freely, and Celeste could taste them in the kiss. Sighing in slight relief as she cupped his face, her soft skin on his encouraging him to look at her.

"I'm here for you." She tells him holding his face as she placed feather light kisses all over him, hearing him let out a quiet whimper as she finally connected her lips with his on her own. Aegon suddenly became more forceful, his desperation pouring into the kiss, grabbing onto her waist with a bruising grip.

Right before the sunrises both Celeste and Aegon wake up from their little rest then she watches him fly off heading back to Kings Landing. She felt a bit bad because their last words to each other was her telling him to just move on and forget about her. She didn't want him getting in trouble from Otto, his mother, or her father. She cared about him and didn't want him going through it.

"You know how hard that is going to be for me?"

"Ageon, please for me so I don't have to worry about you." She tells him.

"Celeste please."

"Aegon, I care you but I don't feel the same." She lies to him, "I don't love you like that. I didn't feel anything during our time together."

He stays quiet getting on Sunfyre leaving her and that would be the last time they ever saw or talked to each other until another two years.

Walking back to her room she sees her father sitting on her bed waiting with a disappointing look on his face, "You have nothing to worry about, father. I told him to forget about me." She tells him.

"Aegon came all the way here to see you?"

"Yes, he just left." She looks over at him, "I'm not sorry."

"I know," He stands up walking up to her, "But I'm sorry." He lets her know before leaving her room.

-

Sitting on the sofa in her room reading Jace wonders in taking a seat next to her, "Are you here to bug us again with your presence?" She asks keeping her eyes on the pages.

"I'm not bugging them just you." He smiles, "They like when I poke at them." He pokes at her swollen belly making the babe move.

"They're moving because you're bothering them, Jace." She turns her head to look at him still poking her belly with a smile.

"I say differently. They love their uncle Jace."

"Technically you aren't their uncle. You're their cousin." She corrects him so he hits her.

"I'm their uncle." He smiles then notices the look on her face as she touches her stomach. "I'll get my mother." He gets up rushing out of the room.

Screams of pain ends up shaking the walls as hours pass by, "I can't do this anymore! Please make it stop!" Celeste yells, clawing at the bed-sheets.

"You can do it dear. You're a strong girl." Rhaenyra holds one of her hands to help her through it, "You're doing a great job."

"I can't take it anymore." She cries squeezing her hand as one of the handmaids dab at her forehead with a cloth.

"You're almost there."

Celeste groans in pain, "I can feel the head. Just a few more pushes." She's told.

Groaning even loudly, her teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked her frame. Pain radiated down her spine and into her groin. She felt like she was being ripped apart at the seams.

"You hear that? You're almost done. You're doing so good."

She squeezed onto Rhaenyra's hand as hard as she could, pushing with all the strength in her body. The harder she pushed, the sooner it would be over. She needed it to be over. With a final push, her vision began to blur and blank mind went blank.

Before she knew it, loud cries pulled her back to Earth, and coo's from the handmaidens filled the room. She laid back with a sigh of relief. As she relaxes Rhaenyra smiles at the baby before Celeste is told to keep pushing.

"I'm not done?!" She groans still pushing.

"It's twins." She's told as she gives birth to the last one.

"Both are girls." Rhaenyra tells her with a smile.

Celeste holds both of her babies to her chest while looking at them she starts to cry feeling something she's never felt before. "Is this feeling normally?" She laughs wiping her tears away.

"Yes, especially with your first." Rhaenyra tells her.

The handmaids clean up both Celeste and the babies before leaving her to rest for a bit. Laying in her clean bed she looks over at the babies next to her in a crib. She couldn't help but find her girls so beautiful. It was love at first sight with her.

Later when Celeste was well rested enough Jace and Luke were excited to meet the baby, "We hear it was girls!" Luke shouts so Jace tells him to quiet down.

"Yes," Celeste smiles.

"What did you decide to name them?" Jace asks as she hands them each a baby..

"Dahlia," She motions to the one Jace was holding, "And Astraea," She looks at the one Luke was holding.

The boys found them both beautiful just like her mother was. They took turns holding them till Daemon entered the room so they left them alone. Daemon walks over looking at Celeste holding the girls. Stepping closer he takes in how they looked.

"They're about identical to you when you were born." He speaks up.

"I didn't know you were even around then for that." Celeste says not looking at him but her girls in her arms. "Do you want to hold them?" She looks at him and he steps back, "Father, please."

Daemon steps forward taking Dahlia from her first and she could have sworn she saw him smile a bit, "That's Dahlia, she has a mole near her eye while Astraea has one on the tip of her nose." She lets him know who was who.

"I thought I was doing the right thing with you. I should have had you with me." He lets out looking over at her.

"I forgive you, father."

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

the way i gasped when i see you have obey me! as fandom you follow is so dramatic, no but i swear I gasped dramatically pinky swear!!

Your headcannons for Yan! Solomon because he's my husband. I love his enigmatic style and how he has "oops! just created another disaster but hey i also have the solution" energy and on the serious note that despite knowing he had very less chances with MC in original timeline he still had their back everytime. I love my Shady McWizardson so much i cannot explain it to you. When NB came i was like 'this is it. this is solo stans era and we are living our dream!' How they'd play house with each other has me kicking my feet!!

Alsooo,, who's your favourite OM character 👀

-🌼

Yandere! Solomon

GIRL I AM ALSO IN LOVE WITH SOLOMON HE'S SO SHADY AND LOWKEY YAN. Although he DOES need to lay off the kitchen like stop going there bbgirl-- ALSO, favorite OM character? With the brothers, it's Beel. I love my big boy, my himbo, my everything. Jealous and clingy Beel is a blessing that comes once in a blue moon and I thank last year's valentines event for that. Outside of the brothers, it's ironically Solomon and Barbatos LOL FAIR WARNING THOUGH, I'm not that far yet in Obey Me Nightbringer. I did complete the original Obey me up to 80, but that's it. SO THERE WILL BE DETAILS THAT ARE WRONG!No nsfw for this one hehe

You know how everybody says that no things and events are coincidences?

This sorcerer definitely and deliberately got you transported back in time to solo you.

You don't need to know that though.

At first, he indeed got a bit guilty from isolating you so suddenly and without a warning from your beloved demon brothers.

But the more he saw the beauty of you and him living like a domestic couple together?

It eased his guilt almost immediately.

Back then in the original world, he spent most of his time gazing at you from afar. Wishing that it was he who was closest to you.

Not those demon brothers that he can't seem to shake at all.

Sure, he became your master/mentor, but that's it. You never saw him more than that.

And it frustrated him greatly.

So he had no choice. I hope you forgive him for that :(.

Solomon definitely got more closer to you once you went back in time.

But it was still hard not to frown when he sometimes hear you cry in wanting to go back to the present.

So, he does his best to distract you from everything.

Solomon definitely manipulates everything to his whims if it means getting closer to you.

I can also see Solomon being nicer to you and a distant coldness to him when somebody speaks to him that's not you.

Two-faced Solomon is a thing i've been thinking about for quite a while, and it fits him so well.

If he had a choice, he would just keep you from rekindling flames with the past brothers at all.

But he's too nice for that.

That, and he can't afford your image of him to break at all.

People will warn you about him and how he's shady.

But you know him best! He would never force a demon on a pact at all! All of these demons only knew the sorcerer Solomon, and not him.

Oh he would definitely use tears also. He will not hesitate to do so once he knows tears are your weakness.

He will build an image of a mischievous but good sorcerer in your eyes.

And he will not hesitate to eliminate those who threatens to break that image at all

Both of you are human! Only you and him are all the both of you got. The others cannot be trusted that much.

Even the brothers! They're not your demon brothers that's for sure.

So only rely on him.

And only him.

Let's just say it was a bad day for Solomon.

He went back to the present and he can hear the present demon brother's bemoans of agony from not having you.

They were about to tear the whole devildom apart trying to find you.

Oops, Solomon didn't tell them. His bad, really.

The sorcerer society also decided to pester him greatly.

Then, there's Barbatos in both the past and present to bring you back to the present to not mess with the timeline anymore.

But Barbatos foresaw this already. So what's the point?

This only made Barbatos frown and say "He's gonna regret that."

Eh. He won't.

When Solomon went back to the hall, he realized you weren't there.

Strange, you're usually home by this time.

He asked the demon brothers, nothing.

He asked Simeon and Diavolo. But nothing also.

He even went as far to ask Thirteen, only to get a face full of octopus.

He's getting frustrated, not until he saw little Luke acting fidgety.

Oh. He knows where you are.

Unfortunately for him, you ran away from the hall because you figured out that he deliberately transported you here.

You screamed at him, asking him why.

And you started to question everything about him. About how if he's really as nice as he is, as to why he's so adamant on helping you, on how he knows every solution to everything!

Solomon can feel his whole resolve crumble. All his hard work down the drain.

Last chance to make this right...

He got on his knees, hugging your legs and crying his eyes out. God knows how desperate he was for you to believe him.

"NO! Y/N I SWEAR I DID IT FOR A GOOD REASON I CANNOT SAY!"

He made it seem like the time travel was necessity for your safety, that something will happen if he didn't do it.

The waterworks, and his heartfelt confession of finally admitting his feelings wholeheartedly, and that he never lied to you... It felt genuine (It's not).

And you, ever so soft on him, decided to forgive him that easily.

And he smiles, for he knew he got to you.

[rottenrosethorns]

Promise | Part One

Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader 

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Smut 

Synopsis: You and Leon had a strictly professional work relationship and strictly physical personal relationship. But recently, you start to notice more affection from Leon little by little. With his upcoming mission, will you be able to confront him before he leaves? 

Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI, vanilla, oral sex (mutual), throatfucking (receiving), choking (receiving), cum swallowing (mutual), hair tugging (giving), public oral, physical restraint – hand wraps used (received). Please inform me if I missed anything! 

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: this is my first leon fic and im very, very new to the RE fandom but not new to writing, so i apologize if some parts/personality is non-canonical! im still working on learning more about the universe. also, this is my first fic ive written since a year so…if this is bad, im so sorry, working hard to get my writing back to better as well <//3 also there might be a part 2 but might not??? depends idkkkkk, if this goes well or not lolll

.....

- masterlist - 

- part two -

.....

You don’t remember how it started. All you knew was that somehow, it became routine for you both to spend Friday nights together after work. 

At first, it was every few months, nothing structured really. A stray text, here and there. A brief "My place or yours?" or "Are you up?" sufficed whatever cravings either conjured during the quieter nights. 

If he needed to be satisfied, you’d be there. If you needed to relieve stress, he’d be there. And that, for the longest time, was the determination of the relationship. There wasn't really much need for anything else. Leon was always out on missions, fighting off whatever offspring the latest virus variant had mutant and you were diligently cooped up in your tiny office, researching past strains, tracking patterns for the next possible mutations, and investigating outbreaks. 

Even though you both worked at the same company, albeit in different departments, crossing paths with Leon was not uncommon. Despite the frequency, every interaction was conducted as if you both were strangers. Partly because nobody at work needed to know the personal agendas you both occasionally shared as well as the work dynamic between your titles and ranks. It didn’t matter anyways, nobody would ever catch on that a DSO agent and a researcher would intermingle in bed anyways. 

But eventually, those seldom visits became monthly, always being on the first Fridays for convenience. It was weird to keep a schedule like that, especially when the appointment was solely for sex, but it’s what worked best for the both of you and neither of you had any complaints. Almost like a regular wellness checkup with your family doctor except none of you suffered from any illnesses. 

Then, monthly became weekly. Both of you needn’t ask to come over anymore, practically leaving work together on Fridays. You clean up whatever case you were working on, pack up, and head towards his apartment. This was routine. 

So, it was obvious what your plans for tonight were. 

“L/N.” A few knocks accompanied your colleague’s voice. She was Poppy, a sweet girl from a few doors down. One of the only co-workers that was near your age. 

Your desk was a mess, papers skewed everywhere from the recent case concerning a missing girl filled every square inch surface of your office. Briefly glancing up from the disarray of files, you caught a glimpse of her with her light coat and bag on, “Clocking out?”

Poppy cheered, “Yup, my shift at the bar is starting. Care to join me and the rest of the agents?”

“I’d love to, but I have plans for tonight already,” A mental image of you sitting yourself on Leon’s throbbing dick painted into your mind. Or perhaps maybe you’ll let him take the lead tonight with him pinning you down on all fours, “Maybe Saturday, if you're not hungover enough.”

“I’m always ready for a good time, hungover or not! If you change your mind, come find us downtown,” Admittedly, that’s what you liked most about Poppy. She was always cheerful, a great change of pace in the gloomy environment of your job. Not that you were overly pessimistic, you were just very logical and had a job to do. A job to find a missing girl and investigate the T-virus. So, you both exchanged goodbyes before you sighed and continued to review the deadend clues for the nth time. 

“You have plans for tonight?” 

You raised your eyes in surprise, sure that you were alone in the office, having this time of evening to been way past normal work hours as well as the rest of the floor supposedly at the bar. Well, everyone but him now. 

“I have plans every Friday, Kennedy.” You blinked innocently, keeping your facial expression neutral as you initially reference your workload; however, the sight of him in the cursed tight t-shirt underneath his jacket immediately shifted your tone into a sneaky innuendo. 

Leon was fairly well at keeping his composure, speaking nonchalantly without skipping a beat as he leaned up against your office door frame, “More important than catching up with the crew?”

You caught on to his dismissal, not willing to embarrass yourself with desperation to fix your sexual desire. Thus, you mockingly tapped your files as if Leon couldn’t see the plethora of papers for himself, “I have a case.”

“You’ve been on that case for weeks now,” As if to taunt you with silent temptation, he crossed his arms, defining his biceps. Damn him, you thought. Although you couldn't see them underneath his jacket, you could tell just by the strain of wrinkles folded in the fabric. Damn his shirt too, you thought. 

You shook your head, motioning towards the bulletin board of cold trails, “I’ve got to find a lead.”

“It’s one night, you can get back to it on Monday,” Leon pushed off the doorframe to welcome himself further into your office. You thought he’d make his way to inspect your bulletin, only to be surprised when he placed himself directly across from the other side of your desk. He bent forwards, placing each hand on the edge of your wooden desk and leaning his face close to yours. Even without words, you knew he wanted you to take a break. 

“I have to find the missing girl.” 

“One night,” Leon sighed before taking one hand to take the files out of yours and shutting your laptop closed, “It won’t kill you.”

“It could be enough to kill the girl,” You argued. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to save yourself a glare from Leon. A moment of silence passed before you sighed, not in frustration but in defeat,  “Let’s go before I change my mind.” 

Since when did it become so hard to say no to him? 

.....

“So, you decided to come after all!” Poppy cheered with a slight slur in her speech, already moving to pour you a drink, “I knew Leon would convince you.”

You gave Leon an accusatory look to which he dodged by moving to greet another colleague, “You-”

“Cheers!!” Poppy all but screamed into your ear whilst practically shoving the glass of alcohol to your lips. You quickly reacted, taking in the liquid in a few large gulps. 

“Damn girl, you practice that?” Poppy scrunched her eyes playfully, suggesting that you practice with more than just drinking alcohol in your down time. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a ghost of a smirk appear on Leon’s face before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Regardless, you shot him a dirty look. 

“Take a seat!” Poppy beckoned, sluggishly taking your coat and bag. 

There was only one spot left located on the far side of the table. Just as you were about to make your way, Poppy’s voice halted you, “Hey, move it, will you?”

Poppy’s question was more like a demand towards another colleague, “What? I’m already sitting here. Why should I move?’

“Just move!!” Poppy pretty much shoved the poor man out of his seat before turning towards you with a soft smile and gesturing you to sit. For a moment, you’d forgotten how this sweet girl could become a special agent, but with that display, you remembered just how tough she could be under that kind smile. 

“Thanks,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to be on the other end of her wrath. You wondered why sitting here was such a big deal until you realized it wasn't where but who you were sitting next to. With a seat so hidden in the corner and a private room full of many people, you were sandwiched between Leon’s sturdy torso and the wall. From where you were, you had to ask Leon to grab any drinks or food for you. 

“Want something?” Leon looked at you, ready to grab anything that you wanted. 

You nodded and thanked him. You did feel bad for making him grab all the things you wanted – especially since you were known to be a menu hog – but you really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either use him to do your bidding or climb over his lap in front of everyone. Just as you were about to ask for your desired dishes and drinks, Leon already knew what to bring to your plate without you needing to tell him. 

Since when did he know your favorite foods? 

.....

“You’re going on the missing girl mission?” 

Leon nodded, persona instantly switching to serious. His jaw tensed, brows furrowed as the tiny wrinkles creased between them. This was usual, almost like a pre-mission ritual of his to get in the mindset of gore, bloodbaths, and bioweapons. Afterall, nothing can prepare a man for the horrors that go on during those missions. Not even you. You've investigated countless missions, earning lead researcher in many strain cases, yet whenever it came to Leon being the leading agent you suddenly had so many questions, overly irrelevant and useless. 

Will you be okay? How long will you be gone? What’s your mission? Will you come back alive? Are you going alone? Is it dangerous? What if you get sick? What if you don’t come-

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” 

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” You slightly winced, holding a hand towards your head and checking to see if you were ill. It was unlikely of you to get distracted so easily. Forcing out a cough, you cleared your throat to compose yourself, “What was your question?” 

“Are you okay?” Leon shares a look of worry, placing a warm hand over your shoulder as if to comfort you while his other hand replaces the one on your forehead, “You don’t seem to be burning up.”

You gulped, tongue and mouth agonizingly dry as your eyes flickering towards his touch. As much as you wanted to shy away, his touch was warm and you craved his heat. It was unlikely of him to be in such near proximity to you, especially when you both could be seen through the glass walls of the briefing room. You averted your gaze, shakily looking at his baby blue eyes so it wasn’t obvious you were fixated on his hands, “Was that the question?”

“No,” Leon admitted with a small frown painting his sharp features, “You just don’t look so well.”

“Just thinking, I guess.”

“About?”

“Your mission.”

A half-lie, half-truth. Sure, you were concerned about his mission. You're highly paid and trained to be worried about these missions, but moreso, your concerns focused on him. In actuality, you didn’t really need to, he always came back safe. On the brink of death sometimes, yes. But, still alive nonetheless. 

He gave a curt nod, “I’ve got training soon, but can I swing by later to get your debrief? It’s your case, you’re the expert. I need all the help in order to save the girl.”

“Of course, how late are you staying at the office?” You brought up your schedule, double checking if there were any meetings you still needed to attend. 

“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place?” Leon nervously smiled, eyes squirting slightly, “Um, you know, because I got to sharpen my knives before I go.”

“You want me to debrief you at your place while you sharpen your knives?” The tail end of your tone stretched to be high pitched in your confusion. Was this a joke?

Leon let out an airy chuckle, “Yeah?”

You followed suit, letting out a laugh to ease the confusion, “Sure, I guess, wanna order in?”

“Yeah,” Leon smiled, “Pizza would be nice.” 

“I'll see you then.”

Since when did Leon come up with excuses to see you?

.....

“Pizza’s here!” 

Leon leapt up, putting his knives and sharpening tool on the wooden coffee table and rushing towards the doors to retrieve the pizza, “Thank god, I needed a break.”

You flipped through the debrief packet, only having gone through the first few pages of the hefty pile, “It’s a lot, these people – uh zombies? – are dangerous and fucked. Better to be safe than sorry.” 

“I’ll save the girl, promise.” 

Leon set the pizza box and wings on the table, careful not to let the grease seeping through the cardboard touch the mission materials and quickly left to grab plates and drinks. Meanwhile, you had continued to read aloud whatever essential background information he’d need to understand the nature of this mission. You hadn’t realized you were so heavily engaged in your notes to notice Leon plating two slices and setting a drink for you before helping himself. So, you continued until you heard the sound of Leon’s soft chewing. 

Looking up, you finally noticed that Leon moved to sit on the floor and rest his back on the legs of the sofa. Putting down the packet, you followed him and moved to sit next to him, “I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Leon shared a smile, showing no signs of disdain, “Just a bit. Take a break, we can get back to it later.” 

You held back a yawn, disguising it as you sipped your water and started devouring your pizza. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve gotten. You suppose you shouldn’t be skipping lunch anymore, but you knew that you’d probably forget that change in habit the next day. You both ate in silence. Normally, you found silence comfortable, but alone with Leon? You despised it. 

“You look troubled,” Leon scanned your face, “Wanna share?”

You pressed your lips together, indeed you were troubled. The sight of his sharpened knives had invoked the bombardment of concerning questions again. They burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. 

“It’s...” You hesitated. 

Leon didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but as if to encourage you, letting you know that all of his attention was on you and that he had no intention of interrupting you. 

You sighed, “I’m just worried.”

“About the mission? I’ll save the girl. When have I ever failed?” Leon smirked. 

For a moment, you laughed as well before becoming solemn again, “Not that, more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

Without thinking, you split all the questions you’d been brewing since earlier. Pizza forgotten, you didn’t realize you’d been rambling until you’d run out of breath. Yet, Leon never interrupted you, letting you vent out. 

“Sorry,” You looked away embarrassed, shoving the slice of pizza to prevent you from speaking, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure you will take care of yourself.” 

If it had only been a couple of seconds, it felt like excruciating hours had passed from Leon’s silence. The room felt stuffy, the lights felt like they were shining too bright, and the sweat was sticky on the palm of your hands. The voice in your head was begging, crying for him to say something, anything. You didn’t care if he laughed in your face or reassured you. You just needed to hear something from him, so that you didn’t drown in your own thoughts. You had a tendency to overthink. 

You shrinked back, heavy under the gaze of Leon. You didn’t know what to do, so you made an excuse of needing to use the restroom to escape the invisible chokehold. You hovered over the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much, but it at least eases your heartbeat back to a normal range. Eyes now open, you pathetically look at yourself in the mirror and internally berate yourself for your foolishness. Has Leon made you lose all your self control now? 

A brisk knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. As much as you didn’t want to face Leon, you couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever. 

“Leon, I-” 

Leon doesn’t wait for you to fully open the door, pushing his way in and pulling your body flush against his. His lips find a way to your neck, sucking and licking at the fragile skin. You were sure they left marks in its wake. Your words are cut off with a quick moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock. You weren’t sure what made him act this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. If this is what’s going to distract him from the previous conversation, then you were more than willing to satisfy him. Plus, today was Friday. This was routine. 

Leon’s hands trail all over your body as the both of you stumble back into the living room and fall onto the couch. This was quick, this was sloppy, this was like two horny teenage virgins having sex for the first time. But you were with Leon, so all of that didn’t matter. You didn’t even undress fully, only having discarded your shirt before you got off Leon’s chest and kneeled on the floor to face him as he sat up. Greedily, you pushed up his shirt midway, half-hazardly exposing his tense abs before clinging your hands around the waistband of his sweats and briefs and tugging him free in one motion. 

“Excited there, big boy?” 

Leon’s cock twitched, slapping against his lower abdomen in anticipation. His length was impressive, but his girth was even more breathtaking. His tip glistened under the lights, heavily leaking with precum. You snickered internally with a silent smirk blooming across your face and eyes twinkling with mischief, amused at Leon’s erection from being untouched. 

“Watch it,” Leon’s voice was serious, tone stern and authoritative with his eyes narrowed as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. He was always serious and demanding during sex, yet always attentive of your needs. It was one of the things that you loved about him. You had a knack for power imbalance and an even bigger knack for defiance. 

You kissed his thighs, starting from his left knee upwards, skipping his begging cock and back down to his right knee. Leon grunted with displeasure, rolling his eyes at your cheekiness. Just as he was about to get impatient, you moved forward, lips barely brushing against his shaft. He could feel your hot breath, twitching in anticipation once again. Yet, you didn’t want to comply, having too much fun teasing him with your antics, “Watch what-”

Leon narrowed his eyes into slits, annoyance clear on his face and clearly ran out of patience with you. Wordlessly, he dug his large hands under your arms, lifting you up and throwing you roughly where he sat on the couch. Stunned and turned on from the sudden manhandling, there you laid upside down with your head slightly hanging off the edge of the cushion. All you could get out was a squeak of surprise before Leon grabbed your head on both sides to support you and shoved his dick in your mouth and roughly throatfucking you. Immediately, you gagged from the unexpected rough entrance, but loved his abrasiveness with you. Leon watched as you took all of him, throat bulging with every thrust. He basked in the disposition of your bobbing Adam’s apple and the lewd squelches echoing off the living room walls. Leon was normally attentive to your limits; however, he had a habit of getting carried away during oral, leading to you tapping his thigh twice and pushing him off. Instinctively, you spit out your cum mixed saliva as it slowly slid down the side of your cheek and sticking to your hairline. It’d be a bitch to clean later, but you could care less at this moment. 

Eyes opened, you took a deep breath in as you gasped for air. With his left hand, Leon continued to pump himself, slick hands rubbing along his length to keep his high going. With his right hand, Leon caressed your cheek with his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. 

“I’m sorry. Safeword?”

You shook your head, chest heaving, “I’m good, just give me a sec. Don’t worry, I liked it, just haven’t done this in a while.”

Leon nodded, eyes softening with slight guilt although you showed no signs of being upset, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise you’re okay?”

You kept your hand on his thigh as if to tell him that you were okay. Still with one hand, Leon took off his shirt and used it to gently wipe your face. You laughed, finding the delicate gesture humorous as he still stroked himself. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothing.”

You smiled innocently before replacing his hand with yours and sticking your tongue out to accept his length again. Leon hissed out your name, eyebrows crinkling with pleasure. You slurped him one, twice before humming in acknowledgement. The vibrations only elicited another hiss-like moan out of him. Feeding off the noises he was making, you kept at your bobbing head, licking, gagging, and kissing all along him. You took him out of your mouth, cold air blowing against his shaft causing him to shiver. He was close, and you both knew it. 

“Choke me.” 

It was a simple demand, but it was the green light that Leon needed to resume throatfucking you. You put your hands down, using one to sneak into your pants and circle your aching clit. You hummed against Leon, earning a satisfied grunt from him, “Keep that up and you’re gonna have to swallow.”

He released his hold from you, letting you have a moment of air. You looked up at him, challenging, “Good thing I like the way you taste, Kennedy.”

Leon responded to you with a short grunt, but you didn’t fail to miss the slight flush on his face before he thrusted himself back into your awaiting mouth. His thrusts were much more forceful and rough, basically pushing your body deeper into the plushness of the couch. Your fingers switched from rubbing your clit to inserting your fingers inside yourself. Leon’s hold on your waist kept you pinned to the couch before moving to pull your pants down to view the sight of you finger fucking yourself. He never liked it when you touched yourself when with him, but at least he could watch you while you did. Must be a pride and ego thing, you thought. 

He also didn’t like when you had too much clothes on. Albeit you were definitely no less than conservative at this moment, Leon just noticed you had your bra on the whole time. He didn’t like that. His hands swiftly moved from the dip of your waist to push down the straps of your bra and expose your jiggling tits. Moments like this, Leon became obsessed with every curvature of you, latching both hands on your breasts to hold as he pounded rougher into you. 

“Almost done,” He choked out like he was the one out of breath. Borderline whimpering and whining at this point, begging for release. 

You encouraged him by using your free hand to grab his hip and guide him. Three thrusts later, Leon’s hips stuttered and knees fell slack as he released his hot, thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away, lapping up every ounce he gave you. 

“Still okay?” Leon asked, breathless. 

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I’m okay,” You confirmed, moving to sit upright. 

“Need a break?”

You shook your head, greedily bringing his hips towards you. He looked down towards your slit, messily covered in your slick, “Who’s excited now, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Shut up, Kennedy.”

He smirked, teasing you, “Don’t want it now?”

You sighed in defeat, needing to cum more than needing to save your pride. You gave Leon your best pleading eyes, brows creasing in desperation, “I do want you. Please, I need you. I need you to make me cum.”

“There we go,” Leon cooed, “How would you like me? You have to tell me what you want.”

“Please, please, I want your tongue,” You sighed, “I want to cum on your tongue.”

Thoughts about begging Leon to get to it and rail crossed your mind; however, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to beg him to eat you out. Not that it wasn’t often, it was just a special treat and you were always the type to take advantage of your situations. You’d been missing his tongue, and you craved his expertise and enthusiasm despite the snarky comments that came with it. 

“Copy that, agent,” Leon smirked, bending down and lifting your legs over his shoulders to bury his head in between your legs and licking a long stripe up your cunt, stopping to engulf his lips around your clit. 

You sighed with bliss, curling your fingers into his hair and giving a taught tug to his blonde locks. Leon released his hold, blowing on your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter and spread them further, “Behave.” 

He went to delve his tongue back into you until the shrill sound of his ringtone echoed, taking you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon shook you off as you tried to push him away, “Ignore it.”

“But-” 

“I said leave it.”

The ringtone ceased, leaving the sounds back to being Leon’s tongue pushing in and out of your hole. Only a moment later, the ringtone came back to life and now taking the both of you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon threw his head back with a frustrated groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bite your lip, can’t help but hold back your curiosity, “Who is it?”

“The President.”

.....

Leon was leaving. Leon was leaving for Spain. Leon was leaving for Spain to fight against an infected cult to save the President’s daughter in an hour. 

Arguably, you were more nervous about his departure than him. Actually, you were more nervous than he was. All your questions from the previous night flooding your mind again. So, you took it to the company gym to let out your worries. A researcher usually doesn't occupy the training room, but you need the stress relief. Why? Because your other stress reliever was leaving the country! 

“You’re hurting yourself,” Leon leaned against the door frame, clad in his tight tactical gear. Hip pouches and combat knife strapped securely on his sturdy figure, combat boots tightly tied and double knotted, and most importantly his handgun safely holstered along his belt. Although you hated the reason why he was in his uniform, you can’t help but drool over him. 

You’d known you pushed yourself past your limit a while ago. The sting of your knuckles along with the faint patches of blood staining the fabric of the punching bag made it obvious. You’d been bleeding through your wrap for a while, but you didn’t care as the pain helped you forget about your worries. Technically, this was equally helping as it was hurting you. 

Meanwhile, Leon pushed himself off the wall, steadily walking over towards you and grabbing both your wrists. You glanced up through your lashes, staring a bit too long in his baby blue eyes, “Shouldn’t you be gone already?”

Letting go, Leon panged fake hurt from your words, “Want me gone already?”

“You know what I meant, Kennedy,” You continued throwing punches, despite Leon’s disapproving looks. Regardless, you were thankful that he didn’t try to stop you. 

“Flight leaves in an hour or so, just doing my last double checks on equipment and saying my goodbyes.”

You raised a sweaty brow with doubt, freezing mid punch and fist never meeting the punching bag, “You don’t say goodbyes.”

“I don’t.”

“So, what are you doing here?” 

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Leon perked up, knowing that he would overturn you in any conversation. You stared at each other in silence, challenging the other person to say something first. Sighing, you broke eye contact, going back to punching, “You should bring a jacket. I heard the weather is pretty bad over there. Plus, you don’t look very inconspicuous.”

“Outfit screams “On my way to save the President’s daughter from contagious B.O.W.s,” right?” Leon laughed, “But, what’s on your mind?”

You half shrugged, “Just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Like?”

You. 

“The mission.”

Leon nodded, face turning stern as if he were calculating battle tactics in his head already, “Same.”

Silence fell over the both of you again, but this time, awkward. You cleared your throat, turning away from Leon to grab at your water bottle, “Nervous?”

“Not really,” Leon’s demeanor switched to devious, “Honestly, just want to get this over with. I got some unfinished business.” 

“Unfinished business?”

Leon’s eyes held a glint in them, patiently waiting for you to catch on. 

Unfinished business. Your unfinished business. You never got to finish. 

You slapped Leon on his upper chest with a hiss, “You can’t be serious!” 

“But, I am.”

“We’re at work!” 

“And?”

You gawked at him in complete disbelief, “And? Um, I don’t know, we could get caught, we could lose our jobs!” 

Leon shugged, smiling confidently, “There’s no cameras.”

“Someone could hear us!” 

“Only if you’re loud.”

You hated the smug look on his face, knowing that you were pretty vocal. It was only until your eyes followed his as he watched you subconsciously squirm and press your thighs together. Leon gently grabbed your shoulders, pressing soothing circles on your skin, "Do you trust me?" 

The look in his eyes was so fierce, your lips quivered, "With my life." 

Leon's hands slid down your arms and snaked them around the curvature of your ass before supporting the back of your thighs, "Jump." 

And, you did. Instantly, Leon's lips peppered your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You cringed, thinking about the accumulated sweat from your workout session, but Leon didn't seem to mind. He'd make you sweat even more pretty soon anyways. You sighed with pleasure, running your hands along his arms and feeling the firmness of his biceps under your fingertips. Whilst distracted by the heat of his touch, Leon took his chance and backed you up towards the Smith machine.

“Leon, what are you-” 

He hushed a whisper in your ear, causing a shudder through your spine, “You trust me, right?”

Leon looked at you, pausing all movement until you spoke a soft, “Yes.”

“Good,” Leon glanced at you through the mirrors spanning across the entire wall of the gym, “Remember to be quiet.”

Leon unraveled your blood stained hand wraps, lacing them together over your wrists and over the bar while effectively tying your hands tightly against it. Once finished, Leon gripped his hands over the ridges on the bar, unhooking it and effortlessly lifting the bar onto a higher post on the machine. You definitely didn’t miss the bulge of his biceps. Through the mirror, your arms were outstretched way above your head with the soles of your shoes firmly touching the ground. 

Leon moved in front of you, back now facing the mirror while keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He pulled down your pants, noticing the lack of undergarments. He raised a brow and teasing smile itched to bloom across his quivering lips. 

“Shut up, it’s easier to workout in,” You huffed, a bright blush rushing across your face. 

Leon hummed in satisfaction, “It’s easier to eat out too.” 

“Hey-” 

Your scolding fizzled out into a loud moan as Leon repositioned your legs and dove under you with his tongue flicking your clit. His hands traveled up and down your legs, taking the time to squish your plush thighs. Leon kept his rhythm for a moment before pausing, “I thought I told you to be quiet. Unless you like the idea of being caught.”

You involuntarily clenched at his teasing, jaw tightening from your lack of composure, “Hurry, you don’t have that much time yet.”

“Don’t need that much anyways.”

Leon uses his hands to push away your legs, running his fingers up and down the skin of your thighs. He grips them every so often before sliding his hand around, cupping the crease just below your ass, and firmly tugging you forward with his tongue stuck out along your slit. You choked out a sigh, careful not to be too loud as you threw your head back in pleasure. With the guidance of Leon’s hand, your hips began grinding on Leon’s tongue as he licked and lapped your dripping sweetness. The sight of yourself through the mirror was lewd 

“I’m- I’m almost-” 

“Hold on for me.”

Leon meant it metaphorically, wanting to show off the skills of his tongue and mouth just a bit more. But he also meant physically as Leon hoisted your thighs upon his shoulders, carrying most of your weight with the help of his arms hugging you secured around your lower back. Regardless, you’d instinctively grabbed the metal bar, flexing your arms to hold yourself up. Half not to crush your weight on Leon, and the other half in need of something to grip while waves of pleasure ruined you. 

You thrust your hips forward, needing more of Leon as you ached for him, “Please, almost there.” 

Leon pushed you closer towards him, hoisting you higher so that his face was centered at your core. Leon pushed his tongue deeper into you just as you reached the apex of your climax. A deep sigh of relief came over you as you ground the last of your ecstasy onto Leon and just in time for his flight departure. Gently, he set you down, pulling your pants up for you and untying your restraints. Without saying anything, he took off your hand wraps entirely, blowing cool air on your scratched knuckles, “Take care of this later.” 

“Take care of your mission.”

Leon nodded, switching back into his agent persona. You watched him begin to walk away before he hesitated right as he passed through the door frame, “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You cast him a longing look. 

“I’m going to come back, okay? Promise.”

Since when did Leon make promises? 

[orbitariums]

Comfortfriend!patrick, what does Patrick do when he sees the boyfriend?

With Artashi, he was smug but quiet. Think he could pull that off with shitty bf?

Is it, All knowing smirks, firm handshakes, silently staring at you, long lingering hugs, soft kisses on the cheek, complimenting you outfit (he loves seeing your ass in a tennis skirt, he can’t wait to flip it over later)?

Or is he slight more overt? Hugs where his hands run down your back and end with him grabbing your ass in public, a cheeky kiss to the neck, stroking your shoulder whilst you’re talking, hand on your thigh, if bf makes a lewd comment about you, Patrick replies with ‘I know…’ with a look from you ‘I mean I can imagine bro’.

You try to ply bf with excuses He’s just like that, we’re known each other for so long.

But it ends up in a fight, you’re in tears abd of course running to Patrick. He hates that it’s technically his fault, but he’s happy to comfort you and work hard to make you really feel his apology.

but wow, what a moment in my career... thank u for this question, i truly never thought to expand this recoverybf!/comfortfriend!patrick au outside of the walls of his apartment and yet here we are... and what a wonderful place it is to be. still based on the song i linked below and always with black reader (anyone can read it and i don't get super specific with details anyway - i just want black girls in this fandom to have something for us <3) changed it just a bit so reader's not crying because she's PISSED! and of course she just HAS to confront patrick about it.

*+. 🎧 if you got a man we could bend the rules

recoverybf!patrick + black reader — to bend the rules

contains: cheating, jealousy, slut-shaming (once bad once hot), smut!

wc: 5.1k (was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away hehe)

even before you started "seeing" patrick — if you could call running to his studio apartment in the wee hours of the night for comfort in the form of rounds of relentless sex "seeing" him — you kept your boyfriend pretty separate from your friends. you, art, tashi and patrick were such a firm group in and of itself that it felt unnecessary and almost inappropriate to bring someone else in, even if that someone else was your boyfriend of nearly two years.

when it started getting bad with chris, you were secretly glad that you didn’t ever bring him around. your gut wrenching anxiety and reluctance when you introduced him to your friends for the first time should've been a sign. it wasn't that they were judgmental — although they were notoriously hard to impress — you just didn't feel right deep down. it didn't ever feel right to bring him around, but sometimes it was inevitable. this was one of those times.

tashi's parents were hosting a party for her birthday and to celebrate her fantastic season. you told chris about it in passing and he demanded that you should bring a date to those kinds of things because they're so "public"— as if espn would be flooding tashi's parents' backyard. you obliged because you didn't want to fight with him, but you prayed he didn't notice the way you grew more and more agitated as the day drew closer, and you obsessed over the thought of him having to interact with patrick.

it had been almost three weeks of you two hooking up behind your boyfriend's back, and it didn't take long for you to sink into a routine of it. the first time it happened, you came back home a wreck — the next few times, you didn't even think twice about it. now, it was almost as if you had to confront it head on, knowing you'd be forced to include him in your interactions with your best friends.

you were back to being a nervous wreck, flooded with guilt and shame, like you were just now realizing that what you were doing was wrong. but was it wrong? you were being mistreated, and half the time chris acted like he hated you. friends are supposed to support each other, right? and that's all patrick was doing. he was supporting you. he was just helping you. talking you through it — with his cock pushing past your folds, his lips against your ear as he ... talked you through it.

and patrick was not known for his subtlety. in fact, it was the opposite that had created that existing tension between the two of you in the first place — his intense gaze on you whenever you wore something tight, the way his jaw clicked when you even mentioned your boyfriend in passing, his touches held for an inappropriately long amount of time. you almost expected him to say something. it wouldn't be unlike him to make a sly comment about how much he appreciated chris for sharing you with him.

this worried you so much that you texted him a day before.

patrick i swear to god if you say anything tomorrow i'm gonna fucking kill you. and i will hide your body someplace no one will ever find it.

he called you right when that text went through, a grating nonchalance in his voice.

"what are you talking about?"

"you know what i'm—" you closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower: chris was in the living room nearby, "you know what i'm talking about. if you fucking say a word about me and you—"

"yn, i'm not a sadist. i'll be a good boy."

you tried to ignore the visceral reaction to the way those words sounded in his throat, grainy over the phone and so fitting with his boyish drawl. patrick wanted to laugh— he could almost hear the scowl in your voice as you replied,

"you fucking better."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

the whole ride over there, you were silent, still brooding and hoping for the worst, smoothing your hands over your tennis skirt, which you wore in homage to tashi. your boyfriend didn't say a word, as he was usually oblivious to how you felt, but that didn't stop you from gazing out the window wistfully, winding it down so you could get more air.

by the time you actually arrived, you planted a smile on your face, hoping that you could just distract yourself with the party. you were glad to use tashi's parents as a buffer for a while, chatting with them about mindless things, your boyfriend mainly driving the conversation and trying to network.

after about five minutes, you finally noticed art, patrick and tashi in the distance out of the corner of your eye, waving their hands and trying to get your attention. so as not to appear distracted, you cracked a soft smile and then returned to the conversation.

that was until you heard an all too familiar voice shouting your name over the chatter and the music. when you looked again, who but patrick was practically out of his seat, waving his hand raucously, his blue-striped shirt lifting up along with his arm to reveal the slightest shimmer of his toned stomach. that expanse of skin just above his shorts that you knew all too well — the thought of where it led made your mouth dry.

your heart dropped when tashi's parents glanced behind themselves and your boyfriend cocked his head.

"oh, looks like somebody's waiting on you," tashi's mother quipped. "we'll let you two go."

you nearly wanted to plead with them not to, but it was too late. chris took your hand and practically dragged you alongside him, when all you wanted was to stay put.

"yn!" tashi got up first, her arms flying open to wrap you in a hug. "finally you're here."

you grinned, your eyes sparkling — out of the three, tashi was who you could relate to most, and you honestly looked up to her even though she was your close friend. the two of you balanced out the loud testosterone filled energy that art and patrick created.

"happy birthday, t," you handed her your gift.

art stood up to hug you, and your boyfriend followed that order, except all he got were awkward handshakes from art and tashi. not only did they not know chris very well since you never brought him around, but they also didn't like him that much based on what you'd told them in the past.

as you stood in front of patrick, you glared at him, silently warning him that he was already doing too much.

"my favorite girl," patrick grinned. three words that were innocent enough, but also enough to cause a stir. you were glad your back was facing art and tashi, because that meant you didn't have to see the look they shared, the corners of their mouth turned up in wait.

before you could even respond, patrick had wrapped his arms around you in a hug. a hug that started at below your shoulders and then traveled down slowly, slow enough that you could feel his hands embracing your curves, like he was trying to feel every last part of you. you almost gasped when you felt the way his hands hovered just so above your ass, in a sort of game of "i'm not touching you." if you moved, or if he slid his hands just an inch down, he'd be grabbing your ass. and in that stretch of time that felt like forever, you imagined how he'd do it — how he'd push his hands up underneath your skirt and squeeze the fat of your ass in front of everyone with no shame. you almost wanted him to, but you quickly remembered where you were and who was standing right beside you.

whenever there was a line, patrick was prone to cross it. but his hands did stop, only nudging the line instead.

when he finally pulled away, clearly the one in charge of the entire interaction, your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were vibrating with anger already. you wanted to slap the shit-eating grin off his face. compared to what you two did in private, this was nothing, but in private, your boyfriend wasn't just inches away from you. he didn't stop there — one hand was still on your waist as he did a onceover of you. you knew that look in his eyes all too well. a hint of playfulness mixed with a very obvious ogling.

"wow, what a nice tennis skirt, you look like a pro. i love this outfit on you, this is very new," he said, but you knew what he wanted to say.

you flashed a tight lipped grin, choosing to take the low road,

"yours isn't. but thank you."

you stepped back, your hand on chris' shoulder as you guided him towards patrick. chris glared at patrick for just a second before he stuck his hand out. you wanted to wilt away and die when you saw that fucking smirk on patrick's face expand. the smirk you'd seen a thousand times, all with different varieties and intensities. smirking down at you slid down to your knees in front of him, your body brushing against his; smirking when you go wide-eyed at some lewd comment he'd make about your transgressions ("does he know that you like getting facials or do you only do that with me?"); smirking at your pussy when you come again after crying that you couldn't anymore, smirking when you show up to his door after saying you wouldn't anymore.

patrick gripped chris' hand firmly and they shook hands like two grown men at a business conference before chris uttered,

"patrick."

"chris! good to see you." he used his hand to playfully nudge chris on the side. "you never come out, what's that all about!"

chris chuckled,

"work is crazy."

patrick nodded, looking pensively down at the ground for a second before looking at you,

"why don't you invite your boyfriend out with us more, yn?"

you rolled your eyes,

"same reason you don't mind your business, zweig."

the night continued like that — like a game of tug of war between you and patrick, him pulling you in and you tugging back just before he could make you topple over.

while the table was yapping about something, you tried to purposefully avoid eye contact or any interaction with patrick, but you could feel the way his gaze burned into the side of your face even when you weren't talking. like he was inquiring about something. probably wondering why your boyfriend's arm has been around you the entire night. silently asking you why you allow it when you know you don't even like being touched by him for too long. at some point, he catches your eye, and he furrows his brows together slightly, biting down on his lip. you get flustered and turn away, swigging beer from the bottle.

everytime chris kissed your cheek, or showed any affection toward you— a hand on your knee, a squeeze of your arm, patrick reacted in only a way you could detect. a tick of his jaw, an eye roll, cigarette smoke blown in your direction. you pretended the smoke making contact with your cheek didn't bother you, wasn't purposeful.

drinks were flowing, the party was in full effect.

chris had one too many beers and was starting to get embarrassing.

"and this one, you know, she won't ever let me hear the end of anything," he pointed a thumb in your direction, hoping to get raucous laughter from your friends, but instead being met with meek chuckles. "just talks and talks."

patrick snorted. loudly. so loud that everyone at the table takes interest in whatever it is that he clearly has to say. he just leaned back in his chair and tossed the stub of his cigarette into the ashtray on the table.

"she's a talker, alright."

your eyes went wide as you caught the way art covered his mouth to hide a smile, and tashi glanced over at you as if to confirm that what he just said was as damning as it sounded. a silence takes over the table for just a minute, and you try to gain your composure as you feel chris' eyes flitter from you to patrick. chris leaned in just a bit, chuckling, but not because he found it funny,

"what?"

patrick looked around for a second, feigning naivety,

"oh, i just said what you said. she gets pretty loud." he let that hang in the air, which was getting stiffer by the second. then, to recover, he nodded over at art and tashi, "but we love her for it, right?"

"yeah," tashi said hurriedly.

"of course," art tried not to snicker.

when everyone had finished their drinks, patrick took it upon himself to restock. he stood behind you, commanding the attention of the table,

"i'm seeing empty cups. anyone want anything?"

"just a water," tashi replied, and patrick pointed his finger at her,

"wrong, another beer."

he took note of everyone's drink of choice, but you didn't say anything. in what could be seen as camaraderie, he placed his hands on your shoulders and bent down slightly so he was at level with your ear. he's so close to you that you can feel his breath, accented lightly with the fermented scent of heineken, against your neck.

"you need anything?" need.

what a charged word coming from the man who had been tending to your every need for the last few weeks. he tended to your "need" for hours every time. so many times tonight, you'd almost given in, nearly fucked him right there. and although his cockiness, which you had specifically asked him not to exhibit, made you angry, you still had to practice restraint. after all, it was him. your attraction to him wasn't new, but it did triple once you finally started hooking up.

you turned your head just slightly, so you met his gaze. the two of you performed this sort of intimate dance. just two friends talking in hushed tones, as if there were more to a drink than just quenching your thirst. or maybe that was what it was. you held his gaze, letting your arousal snake around your anger and suffocate it. as if you had a choice — it was an almost primal reaction to him in your space, even if you were furious with him.

"i'm okay, thanks," you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, quietly confirming the tension you were both feeling.

you didn't miss the smug satisfaction on his face and his eyes as he registered that switch that had flicked in you. it was so slight but if anyone could notice it, it was him. he pulled his bottom lip inbetween his teeth and his lips quirked up in what was almost a grin.

"c'mon, i'll get you something. tell me what you need," his voice way too smooth and quiet to just be talking about a drink.

you held his gaze just a moment longer, and then grinned,

"surprise me."

patrick smiled, finally tearing away from you and squeezing your shoulders as he stood back straight again,

"attagirl."

as he walked away, he patted chris' shoulder, too.

you cursed yourself for being obvious, but you mostly cursed patrick for doing the exact opposite of what you'd told him to do. you shouldn't even have brought it up to him to begin with, you knew how much he got off on being ornery and oppositional. maybe if you hadn't told him not to make it obvious, he might have actually allowed the night to be normal, not charged with this weird sexual tension and energy that everyone could see, including your boyfriend.

when you get home, you didn't hear the end of it. chris was shouting at you for what felt like an hour, angry at you, angry at patrick, angry at your friends, angry at the world.

"where does he get off touching you like that, huh? 'my favorite girl', are you fucking serious?"

"babe, we're friends. seriously, i've known him for years, it's nothing. patrick's just... like that."

that doesn't cut it. he's shouting at you and berating you for what feels like an hour, directing his anger at a different person every five minutes — you, patrick, art and tashi, the world. by the time it was over, you were exhausted. when were you not, with him?

the sharp hiss of the word "slut" from your boyfriend's lips rang in your ears. to your surprise, when he said it, you laughed. you were amused at the sheer irony of it all. he's not wrong. somehow, knowing that you were about to do exactly what he was accusing you of gave you a rush of power, a sense of self-righteousness. there was no guilt, not now —you were justified in your wrongdoing, and he had just proven that to you. why shouldn't you be a slut?

you were sitting behind the wheel, your jaw tight as you pulled out your phone and sent a text to the one person who you should hate right now, but who you need the most.

i'm so fucking mad at you right now.

you leaned your head back against the headrest, perking up as he responds within the minute.

yeah. wear that skirt when you get here.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

when you showed up you didn't even bother with a greeting, gliding right past him when he opened the door, leaving him there with his hand still on the doorknob.

he was taken aback for a second, frozen in place as he registered you standing in front of him defiantly with your hands on your hips. clad in that perfectly pleated white tennis skirt and short short crop top, just the way he wanted you.

“seriously patrick, i’m upset with you,” you announced, folding your arms over your chest which only accentuated your tits more — if you weren’t so focused on being defiant you’d have noticed the way his eyes trailed down to ogle your breasts.

he blinked, his mouth slightly open as he let the door close. he considered for a moment, shrugging and opening up the discussion.

“mkay… you wanna talk about it?” he pressed his lips together and pushed them to the side like he was considering something — he doesn’t give a fuck.

you glared at him, narrowing your eyes,

“yeah, actually. i told you specifically not to say anything.”

he laughs, actually laughs, tilting his head back with a wide smile,

“i didn’t!”

“you fucking may as well have!” you hissed. “he practically yelled at me for an hour when we got back, what the fuck is wrong with you? what happened to ‘i’m not a sadist, yn’? you think you’re so fucking smart.”

“okay, okay, hey. listen. i’m sorry. okay, i’m sorry. i just… god, i hate him. i wanted to make him feel like shit, that’s all. for the way he treats you he should,” he replied, finally sounding at least slightly reasonable and sincere.

“and you decided the best way to do that was to hint that me and you fuck on a weekly basis? you couldn’t emasculate him any other way? challenge him to a match with you for god’s sake,” you bleated, your expression unchanged, but your heart warming just a bit.

“ok, it wasn’t the best way to do it. it was the first thing that came up and you know how i am anyway,” he continued, and although you were still angry you understood him, you could even reason with him.

how could you not? that was just how he was anyway, how could you possibly expect him to turn it down just because your boyfriend was around? no, you couldn’t possibly ask for that.

he stepped closer to you, making you lose resolution in your once solid glare. he watched as you started to crumple, yet open up at once.

“and plus you looked so good. you don't want me to act the way i act but... you just can’t do that to me. it’s not fair,” his voice was soft and convincing, encroaching in the right way.

it sounded like all the things your boyfriend could never be. it was full of true desire and an apologetic nature that you sought out so often from the man you were supposed to love. when you were in need of that, you could find it here. that’s why it was so hard to stop.

“hmm,” you hummed, tingles running down your spine as you glanced up at him and let your arms fall down to your sides. giving up, giving in. he let his hands rest on your hips, pulling you in just slightly so he truly towered over you.

“are you still mad at me?” he looked down at you, his voice so sweet and soft and unlike how he usually was, his deep brown eyes twinkling.

you frowned, your brow quirking, but you couldn’t even fully convince yourself. like a brat you uttered,

“yes.”

chills when he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, ever so often brushing against your bare skin exposed by the crop top. he had that stupid knowing smile on his face — stupid because not only was he being presumptuous as always but because it made you melt. it reminded you that he really did value you, that he wanted to take care of you in any way he knew how.

“well, you can’t be mad at the both of us. who’s gonna do my job?” patrick asked, like a professor readily awaiting an answer from his uninterested class.

“me,” you pouted, looking away from him. amused, patrick giggled and used a finger to lift your chin, quipping,

“oh really? you wanna show me how you do it?”

"you wish, patrick," you rolled your eyes, simply unable to ignore the way his words went straight to your core.

he could tell, past the feigned annoyance, that you were imagining it, thinking of letting your fingers trail up and down against your slit while patrick looked on with watchful eyes. maybe even lighting a cigarette and leaning back to watch you and drink in all of you. so calm and cavalier, taking drag after drag from his cigarette. you imagined how he might sit there so calm and cavalier, taking in drags from his cigarette with a nonchalant expression on his face that didn't indicate any of the arousal he felt poking through his jeans. just sitting and watching you fall apart with each needy pump of your fingers pushing past your folds — the sounds of your desperate whimpers and gushing pussy squelching as your fingers work faster filling the room. if you started to close your legs, he'd lean forward and push them apart, then sit back again. he didn't blame you for it, he was thinking about it too. you both knew he was adding that onto his mental checklist.

"hmm, i do," his fingers gripped your chin and he squeezed it gently, his deep brown eyes pouring over yours so gently, filled with so much love and appreciation. you could burst. "hey, if you're so mad at me, why'd you show up in your tennis skirt like i told you to?"

he asked this question while letting his hands smooth down over your body, reminiscent of the way he hugged you earlier in front of your boyfriend. he stopped just above your ass, his hands hovering there while he awaited your answer like it was a green light.

"i was already wearing it..." you trail off, unable to keep steady in your resolve, and he knows he’s got you.

“yeah, you’re full of shit,” patrick laughed. you felt his breath on your face, coming in heavy huffs of laughter as he leaned in.

the tip of his nose bumped against yours, his lips fanning over your own. you felt him smile against your lips as his hands drifted down and underneath the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass with his rough, worked hands, just like you imagined he would. you couldn't help the way a little moan escaped your lips, finding the slightest bit of relief at last, and all from his touch. he felt it too, a peaceful sigh escaping his parted lips. he kissed you then, biting down on your bottom lip and pulling it back slightly. hints of heineken meeting the coconut vanilla lip gloss you'd slathered on before you came here.

"i wanna make it up to you," patrick murmured against your lips, pulling you in closer by the small of your back and kissing you again, obsessed with the way the gloss made his lips glisten with the memory of you.

"yeah?" you gazed up at him, fluttering your lashes in that way you knew drove him crazy— he knew you were doing it on purpose, but somehow that intention made him all the more attracted. "how?"

that was how you ended up with your legs suspended in the air, hooked around patrick's beefy arms as he fucked into you, his cock hard and thick and rigid, twitching constantly at the sound of your moans.

"fuck, you're so fucking hot. i'm so- fuck - i'm sorry, baby," he stammered just slightly dropping that guise of cockiness for you. there's no need, you forgave him the second he bullied his gorging tip inside of you and rewarded you with that miraculous stretching feeling, a key fit snug inside a lock. you might've forgiven him even before that, when he spat on your pussy and placed a wet kiss on it before positioning his cock at your entrance.

your breath was caught in your throat, all you could feel was your body — your legs stretching back towards your head, your breasts jiggling in tandem with patrick's thrusts, sweat prickling the surface of your soft skin, your pussy getting fed with cock, stretching and molding his own and sending sensations up to your lower abdomen. you couldn't think.

" you forgive me? not mad at me anymore?" patrick asked, and usually his voice was dripping with immodesty, but this time it was ladled with desire — he wanted to hear you say the words. he was full of shit, and sometimes a dickhead, but he wasn't just some archetype. you had been friends first, and he wanted you to know that he gave a fuck.

"mm-mm," you shook your head, your eyes clenched shut. you brought your hand up to your lip to bite down on it, but patrick shook his head and swiped your hand away.

"no, no, no, none of that. i wanna hear those moans, i wanna hear how good i'm making that pussy feel," he pants, hinging on something similar to desperation.

you whimper and it trails off into a loud crash of a moan as his tip hits just right, you feel like you can feel the outline of him inside you. he moans too, readjusting so it feels like he's power fucking you, his hips gliding back and forth at a new speed, previously undiscovered, so fast and hard and yet smooth that your eyes are rolling back in your head before crashing shut again, and your mouth is open but no sound is coming out. then, at once, a raucous moan that didn't even sound like it could come out of you — not you, so soft and sweet and innocent and wet, mush under his touch.

patrick can't believe it, can hardly stomach looking down because he knows the sight of your wetness glistening on his cock, practically soaking him, will make him come in five seconds tops. he spares a glance anyway, his stomach flipping. he laughs incredulously, glancing down,

"you're so fucking wet, my god — cock just slides right in, i don't even need to — fuck — fucking try. imma make you mad all the time if this is how wet it gets you."

just a moment later he's yapping again, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't bring you closer and closer to the edge.

"tell me. tell me that you're – shit – that you're not mad at me anymore. open your eyes, want you to look at me when you say it. want those pretty eyes looking at me while you take my shit."

you shake your head furiously, forcing your eyes open even if they are low-lidded,

"n-not mad at you anymore. i forgive you, i forgive you, just fuck me, please!"

you'll be embarrassed at how easily you give in later on, but right now you wrap your arms around his back and pull him in closer to you.

patrick chuckles, astonished at just how fucking horny you could be,

"god, you're fucking easy. just need a little dick to get your head screwed on straight, fix that fucking attitude. need it from me. all you need's a little dick to be a good little slut again, yeah?"

and you barely realize it, but you're blubbering and nodding as he drives his dick deeper into you, forcing you to sink your teeth into the flesh of his prominent bicep. digging deep into you like forgiveness could be found in the warmth of your pussy.

it doesn't take long before you're bent over and he's letting the tennis skirt flutter ever so slightly over your ass, groaning as his thrusts cause the skirt to jostle around and expose more of your ass, which bounces back each time he cracks his thighs against you. he's easing in and out of your pussy and his hand has found a home in the arch of your back. nothing has ever looked so appealing to him before— twice he paused and just let you work him, fucking back onto him, while he zoned out and just admired the magic happening before his eyes. you work hard, and he's in disbelief at how much you make an honest job out of fucking back on his cock. sweat dripping down his forehead, his eyebrows raised slightly, mouth dropped just so. he's in a lull, completely in awe. when he comes, he aims it onto your ass, bending down immediately to lick it up and clean up his mess, his tongue flirting with your asshole in the process.

after the whole ordeal, he'll tell you to leave your skirt here, and sends you home in a pair of his sweats.

you don't ask why, you just watch the snapchat video he sends you not too long after of him jerking off onto it, his cum spilling out and dripping onto it, blending in with the soft white fabric. you wish you were disgusted, but it makes your mouth practically water, makes your pussy throb.

as he drills into you from behind and whispers nasty, beautiful things into your ear, you realize "slut" sounds so much better coming out of patrick's mouth than your boyfriend's.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; astarion

requested by ; mod / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; astarion ancunin

outline ; “dating headcanons for astarion”

note ; i have never played this game and am going completely off of the clips and guide videos i’ve been watching pretty much nonstop for the past week so apologies if my characterisation is at all shaky in this piece

warning(s) ; brief references to canon torture, self worth struggles, and other related angst — but otherwise mostly fluff!

when it comes to being in a relationship with you — a real relationship, that is, and not the act he was putting on to try and manipulate you at the start of your journey as a group — astarion is, for lack of a better analogy, very much so a fish out of water

and, thankfully, that’s not something he’s ashamed or scared to admit to you, so the early days of your relationship are filled with a lot of trial and error as you navigate your new dynamic and he adjusts to being permitted to make his own decisions and set his own boundaries

some things definitely come easier than others for him — namely verbal shows of affection like using pet names for you or being playful or flirty whenever you’re together; things that are more instinct than anything else, but no less genuine in their use

as one might expect, astarion does also use quite the variety of pet names for you — to the extent that your friends have a running joke about him not actually knowing what your real name is (which he always refutes with about as much sass as one might expect) — with his main terms of endearment being ones that he settled into using early on like ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’ (or ‘handsome’ if that is your preferred term), ‘my dear’, and, when he’s being a bit of a tease, ‘my little treat’

actual physical intimacy, however, is a much different story given his rather unfortunate history with his body and how he was forced to use it by his tormentor

of course he knows that you’re different, that you’re not like cazador or his ilk, but that doesn’t make those old habits any easier to break, nor two hundred years of trauma easier to shake from his mind — love and patience can only go so far, after all, and those memories and their effects on him won’t just vanish overnight

so, naturally, that means that adjusting to physical touch unrelated to sex is a very slow process for him — though he’s thankful to have you there with him throughout

there are a few things that he learns he really quite enjoys and makes that abundantly clear to you when you’re together: kisses, gentle touches to the hand, and hugs, mainly

oh and his kisses are truly marvellous once you help him accept intimacy unconnected to sex — they’re soft and sweet but no less passionate for it, starting off with a brief peck before he turns his head and gently (oh so gently) grasps your chin or cheek or neck and pulls you closer to him, almost as if you’re melting into each other as the kiss either deepens or makes way for a string of chaste pecks before you eventually pull apart for whatever reason

he also always makes sure to sooth any places he’s bitten with some apologetic kisses once he’s had his fill (as well as plenty of compliments on your person and about your blood)

his other favourite places to kiss you are either on your hands or wrists (the gentleman that he is): the insides of your wrists, the tips of your fingers, each of your knuckles in sequence, the backs of your hands, your palms when you cup his face in your hands — truly the list is endless and he delights in finding new ways to fluster you and make you smile

shit talking and gossipping amongst yourselves is extremely common and astarion has mastered the art of saying just the right thing about someone he doesn’t like just loud enough for you to hear at the perfect time to make you laugh (or try your best to cover said laugh if you’re currently talking to the subject of said shit talking)

when it comes to sleeping arrangements, astarion just loves being held (but not too tightly so he still has the freedom to get up and walk away for whatever reason if he needs to), but the specifics of the position don’t really matter to him — he’s just as happy to have you laying on his chest, or him on yours if you’re larger than him, as he is to cuddle you on his side (though he does secretly prefer to either be the little spoon or to have his face level with your chest when you’re both on your sides as it makes him feel safer, though it will take him a long time to ever even consider admitting to that)

he is naturally very protective of you and has been known to pull a dagger on anyone he deems as a threat to you — which is very beneficial in combat scenarios or situations where you are actually at risk, but a bit inconvenient when you’re trying not to draw any attention to yourselves and the issue is just some drunk that can’t keep quiet (still not good and something that should be called out, but perhaps not worth having to leave the town you just got to early as to avoid getting charged with yet another crime)

he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself whenever you’re unwell for whatever reason (especially if it’s something a healer can’t contend with) because it’s been centuries since he’s experienced any sort of illness so he can’t even really empathise with you about your situation — he tries his best, of course, but it’s easy to tell that he’s really out of his depth

no matter how long the two of you have been together, astarion still melts whenever you ask his permission to do the smallest of things (like asking if you can kiss him or hold his hand, for example) — but he melts even more when you accept when he declines for whatever reason becaus the novelty of being respected and loved without expectation or conditions never really wears off for him and he appreciates it all just as much as he did the first time

[crimsonicarus]

GR RPF FIC REC MASTERLIST!!

Long post!

Big shoutout to @arsenalgbt for suggesting i made a list, here are my fave GR fics, im a multishipper so it will be a couple or ships here, anyway, enjoy!

I wanted to also thank all the authors here listed for their awesome contributions to this lovely fandom, im really grateful for all your work <3333333

If any of the authors here listed would rather have their work taken down from this list please let me know .

new year's resolution by @wormeo-and-juliette

Pairing: OT3 Fernando Alonso/George Russell/Lance Stroll

Lance gets the text from Fernando well into the afternoon on the first day of the year: I slept with George.

Um. What?

eagle eyed by @prettydangrotten

Pairing: OT3 Alex Albon/George Russell/Logan Sargeant

“He’s watching, you know,” Alex says, voice level and conversational, like Logan being in the room is a normal part of this experience, “he’s hard.”

i’m your number one (it’s so obvious) by @63historian

Pairing: OT3 Lewis Hamilton/George Russell/Max Verstappen

“Tell him what you want, Georgie.”

He clenches his hole just as he starts begging, “I need you to come inside me, please, Max, please, I want it so bad.”

And who is Max not to obey such beautiful cries?

positive negatives by @ctimenefic

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

George doesn’t regret that shoot, exactly.

He had for a long time. After the first high of seeing the rushes wore off; after overhearing a murmured warning in general casting, days too late; after he woke up at three am to reread the release he’d blithely signed without thinking, and spent the next four hours staring at the ceiling hoping to wake up. He’d regretted it then.

For years after, the memory of it could hit like an ice cube sliding down his spine. Always, of course, at the most inconvenient moments. When he was working, or networking, when he needed his wits about him, couldn’t afford to stutter over his words. They’d put him in white silk, or offer him wine, or he’d walk into a room with slow, warm jazz playing, and the whole excruciating mess of it all would come back. He’d learnt how to smile through it, then how not to blink at all.

June is the coldest month of the year by @beabnormal24

Pairing: Max Verstappen/ George Russell

“Just don’t be a stranger, yeah?” It doesn’t sound as empty as George would’ve expected.

Max disappears in Monaco’s breeze with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and his head turned to the side to look at the coast following him, or it’s him who follows the coast. It’s not that simple to guess when George feels the way he does about him.

He stares at the broad expanse of his back until he’s nothing more than a distant figure just like any other person around and he can pretend that he’s no one in the middle of the world.

The blessing of anonymity, he muses, gripping at the hems of his sleeves.

All of a sudden, his chest feels quiet.

nobody else by ginnydear

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

The Mercedes garage is almost overwhelmingly busy when Alex walks through the crowds of officials there.

or... what if the world was suddenly plunged into omegaverse and everyone started presenting at once... pt two.

 table in the back by @janinaduszejko

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

“Okay, here’s the offer." Alex says. "I’m going to make you something and if you don’t like it, you don’t pay. How does that sound?”

“So I get a good meal or a free meal?” George asks. “Sounds like a no-lose scenario.”

“Keen eye, George,” Alex grins. “Figured out my terrible business sense on the first try. Alright, take it or leave it.”

 all green lights

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

Sorry mate I think you've got the wrong number

chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line

Pairing: OT3 George Russell/Lance Stroll/Fernando Alonso

Lance and Fernando have been together for over two years and it is great. It is great apart from one minor detail. They are both dominant tops and the irritation is starting to grind them down. Enter Lance's ex-whatever, George Russell.

But George is not going to be as easy to get on board as Lance and Fernando think. He will give his whole heart but you have to open it up first.

DISCLAIMER: THE FIC IS NOW ON PERMANENT HIATUS

Very common crisis (series) by crimandclove

Pairing: George Russell/ Lance Stroll

January 2024 - George finds himself single, stressed, with a set of tits & one Lance Stroll in his home.

Calls and Cats by @raewritesf1

Pairing: George Russell/Max Verstappen

Things go awry when George’s video call with the quartet is interrupted by the form of a familiar half-naked Dutch driver wielding a Bengal cat in the background.

spread before you like a picnic by @janinaduszejko

Pairing: Alex Albon/ George Russell

Now, weeks later, he thinks that was probably the reason he’d said it, why when he came back to himself and noticed that Alex had manhandled him on his stomach and was in the process of peeling George’s jeans down, his first instinct was to say, panicky: “You can’t fuck me.”

it's not about having someone to love me anymore by linearity

Pairings: Alexander Albon/George Russell, George Russell/Toto wolff

George is an omega. He kind of hates himself for it.

Brake Balance by @russilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

"Why don’t you come dance?” With me goes unspoken, and George is eyeing him with a familiar look, like he’s sure Lewis will brush him off again, but he still wants to try.

Maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol. Maybe it’s the shiny skin of a tanned collarbone showing through George’s three open shirt buttons. Maybe it’s just the adrenaline of the whole day in general, but for once, Lewis thinks that sounds like a pretty good idea.

Stop overthinking, just go with it.

Bono’s words echo pointedly around his mind. Fuck it

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by @prettydangrotten

Pairing: Alex Albon/George Russell

They’d agreed on friends when Alex had come to collect the last of his things from George’s flat. George had been adamant about it, all uncomplicated smiles, like they hadn’t just spent six months living in each other’s pockets and having some of the most bizarrely intimate sex of Alex’s life.

And friends is a noble intention, but. Alex still only has one friend who’s sucked him off in their driver’s room.

Allow yourself this happiness by Sonnenscheintraum

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

i can barely breathe (when you're here loving me)

When Lewis wakes up he knows he's going into rut. He will be able to get through the rainy and cold race in Spa if he takes enough suppressants.

But what if George by his side is actually making it worse for him to keep the rut in check?

How is he supposed to keep himself under control when George looks and smells like the most delicious way and makes him want to claim him?

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

Lewis Hamilton may be the sweetest person who ever stepped on earth and choose not to see the truth, but he deserves so much more than a broken, thirteen years younger college student.

So George does what is best for him.

 See my Vision (tell ‘em) by @russilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell

“Feeling a little desperate, sweetheart?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but George nods anyway, and bites his lip at the conflicted emotions he sees cross Lewis’ face.

He knows it’s late, closer to Monday morning than Sunday night, but it’s been so long since they’ve had freedom to do whatever they want. He loves racing with his entirety, he even loves the intensive training and strict schedules, but he doesn’t love how the need to keep his body in perfect function for a race keeps him from Lewis.

George and Lewis have three weeks break between Monza and Singapore, and they just can’t wait anymore.