#I shouldn’t be awake at all but it’s been a day of ARGUING somehow lmao like just gtfo man I’ll eat the cost of your new phone (or take it)

[dailyautophagy]

IS TIKTOK GOING AWAY!?!

nice honestly

TikTok gave me Barbara and she is genuinely the only thing im thankful for from that platform lol

✌️

[sarah-sandwich]

"I need a hug" please and thank you!

Hi friend! Here it is! Remind me to never commit to a fic a day for an entire week again lmao

Happy last day of National Storyteller Week to everyone who creates or consumes stories! Jump over to my ao3 for 5 ridiculous parkner fics 👌✨💛

Peter, no

He probably should have clued in sooner, a lot sooner.

Him and Peter have been attached at the hip for three years, ever since Peter ran into the lab in the middle of a video call with Tony, shouted something about an arm-wrestling tournament with the Avengers, and begged, “You gotta come trash talk them for me! Please, Mr. Stark! No one roasts as good as you!” Then, after receiving Tony’s resigned agreement, exclaimed, “I’m gonna dislocate Captain America’s shoulder!” turned tail and sprinted back out, ignoring Tony’s, “Peter, no!”

It was over in under a minute but he was bewitched.

“Who was that? And why haven’t I met him?”

“I’ve been avoiding this day,” Tony said in a world-weary tone. “You’re either going to hate each other or get on like a house fire. Either way, I’ll never know peace again.”

In usual Tony Stark fashion, he was right.

He thought he’d seen every side of Peter there is. He’s seen him soft and sleepy under the blue glow of the television. He’s seen him wired and manic as he pursues a project on little to no sleep. He’s seen him broken and bleeding in more ways than he cares to count. He’s seen him laughing until he cries, crying so hard the only thing he can do is cry with him, too exhausted to feed himself, too angry to speak, and he’s been there when he’s on the cusp of dropping dead from embarrassment (usually pointing and laughing but hey, somebody’s gotta keep him humble).

He knows him like he knows his sister, like he knows his mom, like he knows himself.

His point is, it shouldn’t have taken this camping trip to put the pieces together. Realization shouldn’t have hit him like a log to the face when Peter rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed flannel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for wanting to kiss him stupid.

Well, stupider.

A moment later, Peter picked up the bag of tent poles like they weighed nothing and somehow managed to dump them all over the side of the road like a can of pick-up-sticks.

It’s gonna be a long weekend.

~*~

“What’s this thing for again?” Peter asks, raising his arms high over his head to hold up the long swath of fabric two times his height.

“It’s a rain fly, Peter. It keeps out the rain.”

“It’s not supposed to rain. Trust me, Aunt May checked the weather like 50 times before she would let me leave.”

“We still need it.”

“But why? We could sleep under the stars.”

“It traps in heat.”

“Sounds like another tally in the cons column. It’s hot as fuck, dude.”

“Not tonight it won’t be. Temperature fluctuates a lot in the mountains, especially when the sun goes down.”

“Temperature fluctuates in the mountains,” Peter repeats mockingly.

Harley stops what he’s doing. “If you really wanna sleep under the stars I don’t have to share my tent. Enjoy the skeeters.”

“You love me too much to leave me to sleep with the wildlife,” Peter says, voice muffled from under the rain fly as he attempts to drape it over the erected tent.

His heart skips. Does he know? Has he been that obvious even while oblivious to his own feelings? Did Peter figure it out before he did? Has he been graciously not saying anything about his huge undeniable crush while—

Peter squawks and tumbles forward, the tent collapsing under him with a snap that echoes through the trees. The rain fly flutters over him like a burial shroud.

“Please tell me whatever just broke was a part of you.”

“Uhh, sorry.”

He sighs. He’s in love with an idiot.

~*~

The tent leans a little to the left when they’re done with it but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold up through the night. Just in case, they limit how often they go in and out of it (which, in his opinion, is the way it should be done regardless).

A breeze rustles the trees, scattering pine needles as birds chitter and small unseen wildlife scurries around the underbrush. He breathes in deep, savoring the scent of dirt, pine, and fresh air. He’s been in the city far too long.

Peter stands with his hands on his hips, dirt crusted on the knees of his jeans, his borrowed flannel pulling tight across his chest as he watches a puffy white cloud scoot by with a befuddled expression.

He turns to Harley. “So umm, now what?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s never done this before?”

Peter stares at him blankly.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.” He shakes his head and walks over to the car with a sigh. “This way, city boy. It’s time you learned to fish.”

“Sounds smelly.”

“Mmm.” He pops the trunk and pulls out two fishing rods—one old and dinged up, the other brand-spankin-new—and he passes them to Peter so he can grab the tackle box and a white plastic bucket with a lid on it.

“And slimy,” Peter continues, wrinkling his nose at the bold ‘WORMS’ printed on the side of the white bucket.

“That it is, but there aren’t any rats and no one has pissed on the place you need to sit so it’s automatically better than anything the city has to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter grumbles.

~*~

“Y’know,” Harley drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded as he watches Peter jump from rock to rock along the shoreline, “usually when people are lookin’ to catch a fish they cast their line into the water rather than leavin’ it on the ground.”

“Oh is that how it’s done? I had no idea,” Peter says, stooping down to peer into a small pool sequestered away from the rest of the body of water. “What do tadpoles look like?”

“Uh, little squirmy guys.”

“Very descriptive, thank you.”

“Mhmm. Anytime, darlin’.”

Peter looks up at him, eyes narrowed and he jolts under the sudden scrutiny.

“What?” he asks. He always calls him darling. It’s just a thing he says—a southern thing. So what if over the years he’s stopped using the name for anyone else? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not weird.

“Are you falling asleep?” Peter asks.

“Pfft, no,” he says. The sun is deliciously warm, seeping into his skin and turning his bones to butter as the katydids buzz and birds sing. A warm breeze ruffs his hair and he finds himself blinking slowly.

“Dude, you’re totally falling asleep.” Peter grins playfully and hopscotches across the rocks back to him as he teases, “You know, usually when someone wants to catch a fish, they do it while they’re awake.”

“I am awake, dummy.”

“Not for much longer.” He comes to a stop at his side and tweaks the brim of his hat. “Look at you. You’re like an old man falling asleep in his recliner in front of the big game.”

“Napping is a perfectly respectable part of fishing,” he argues.

Peter throws back his head and laughs. Backed by blue sky and thickly forested mountain, sunlit from above, he’s never looked better.

Should he tell him? Is now the time? He can’t imagine living like this—knowing how he feels but bottling it up and keeping it a secret from his best friend.

Then again—

His fishing rod dips and he sits up with a start, hands already moving for the reel.

“Woah, is that a fish?” Peter exclaims, peering into the lake.

“Sure hope so. Can’t imagine what else it’d—,”

“Can I pull it in?” Peter asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excitable puppy.

“No, you if wanna get a fish you have to put in the work.”

“What work? Laying around half-asleep?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll let you take it off the line, how ‘bout that?”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He wrestles the fish out of the lake, a bass about two hands long, and then holds the flopping fish, hooked through the lip, out to Peter.

“There you go. Just pop that puppy off the hook and toss ‘im back in.”

“Wait, you don’t even keep the fish?”

“What would I do with a fish?”

“…eat it?”

“That’s a whole song and dance I ain’t got the tools or the patience for. Just grab the fish, Pete. Preferably before it suffocates.”

Peter makes an unhappy sound in his throat but reaches for the fish. Just as his fingers brush the scales, the fish gives a mighty wiggle and Peter flinches back towards the lake.

“Eep!” Peter squeaks and goes into the water with a splash.

Harley hunches over, laughing his head off as Peter sits up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair.

“I hate you.” Slipping and sliding in the muck, he makes his way through the mid-thigh deep water, back to dry land, and then keeps walking past Harley and up the hill to the trail that will lead him back to camp.

All the while Harley laughs and laughs, taking a moment to free the fish back into the lake before he sits down and tips his face to the sun, chuckling and committing to memory the way Peter’s soaked jeans and flannel clung all over his body.

~*~

“I still don’t see why—,”

“Shush,” Peter snaps, frowning in concentration over the tiny flame he’s been babying to life for the past fifteen minutes.

He sighs. He tried to convince him to wait until supper for a campfire meal but Mr. Eager Beaver insisted on trying his hand at it now. Had they made sandwiches they’d be done by now and could be hiking. But no. Peter wants to play Boy Scout so they’re going to sit here and starve until he gets a fire built just to spend five minutes roasting hot dogs and then have to put it out again.

To make matters worse, Peter’s no longer wearing his shirt since it got soaked in the lake. He’d gotten attached to how he looks in his clothes. Now he’s wearing on one of his standard nerd-pun tees and a wrinkly pair of khaki cargo shorts and he’s going to have to convince him to at least put on long socks before they hike or he’s going to risk getting poison ivy or poison oak all over his calves and ankles.

“There it goes! There it goes!” Peter exclaims, sitting up tall and motioning at him to look at the little flame as it eats up the pile of twigs and tinder.

“Very good, dear,” he says dryly. “Now see if you can keep it going with some real wood.”

Peter cocks his head at him. “Was that a double-entendre?”

“Why on earth would I imply that we should put a part of my human anatomy in the fire, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squatting beside the fire as he breaks up a stick. “Dick jokes are funny.”

“You’re a child.”

“And yet you— Shit!” He flinches back from the fire and falls on his backside.

He comes alert with a spike of adrenaline, rushing forward to— to— pat out flames with his bare hands? He doesn’t know. “What happened?” he demands, checking Peter over for damage and finding nothing, not a burn or singe in sight.

Still sprawled on the ground, Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes with an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t want to say.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he sits up cross-legged and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares down at him as he looks down in his lap. “You’re really not going to tell me what just happened? I already saw you fall in a lake because you were scared of a fish. It can’t be worse than that.”

Peter looks up, neck crimped and mouth screwed into an unhappy pucker. “I thought something was on me but it was just the grass.”

Harley stares. “So, you thought a bug was on you.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for this place.”

What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

Peter hasn’t stopped chattering about everything under the sun since they left camp. And considering where they are, there’s a lot to chatter about. From bugs to birds to types of trees and identifying clouds, he’s heard it all. It’s why he’s not paying attention to the path like he should, too busy watching the way Peter waves his hands animatedly as he rambles, the way the sun lights his eyes and makes his hair shine, the way his lips shape the words.

He hasn’t taken in a word he’s said for the past twenty minutes but he’s watched him with rapt attention while his mind churns through his options. He’s not one to ignore something once he knows about it. He doesn’t want to keep this a secret. There’s no reason to. It’s nothing shameful and if Peter doesn’t reciprocate then… well, nothing changes, right? He’s fine with that. Best friends is still good. Great, even.

But if Peter does reciprocate…

His breathing quickens at the thought. How did he not notice this ridiculous crush sooner? It’s like something has been awakened inside him and now it refuses to shut up and go back to sleep. He gravitates towards Peter like an orbiting moon. He’s a moth to Peter’s beam of light. Helpless under the thrall.

Peter suddenly looks right at him. “—you know what I mean?”

“Huh?” His foot lands wrong and rolls over a root. His ankle screams out and then he’s dropping as it gives out.

“Woah!” Peter catches him, one arm around his back and the other fisted into his shirt at his shoulder. His brain goes offline, only processing the way Peter is pressed against him, the way his face is angled over him like he’s on the verge of dipping him into a kiss, the way neither of them moves or speaks, staring instead with startled realization.

He thinks he imagines it when Peter’s eyes dilate but then they fix on his lips and there’s no way he’s imagining that.

Lights flash in his head and he forgets to breathe as they hang suspended in time.

Then Peter bites his lip and his cheeks flush dark pink as he yanks Harley upright.

He stumbles, unprepared, and his ankle gives out a second time.

Peter catches him by the elbows babbling, “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—,”

“I’m fine. I…” The rest of the sentence vanishes from his tongue as he looks into Peter’s eyes. He loves his eyes—warm and affectionate, they always give him away. Whether they’re bright with curiosity, sparkling with delight, wide with embarrassment, or narrowed in anger, he’s an open book. That’s why the look in his eyes now gives him pause. He’s never seen it before—or maybe it’s been there all along but he hasn’t noticed until now.

They’re dark and focused like he’s seeing through him into his soul and likes what he sees so much he wants to eat him alive.

His heart thunders as he lifts a hand to Peter’s cheek. This is it. This is the moment he tells him and finds out where they’re going to go next.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he swallows thickly, but then his gaze shifts beyond him and he freezes except to carefully grab his forearm in a too-tight grip.

“Bear,” Peter breathes.

His awareness of their surrounding returns so suddenly it hurts. Birds sing, bugs buzz and chirp, somewhere nearby a creek burbles, and behind him on the path, something scuffs the ground and then snorts and sniffs harshly.

“No,” he says quietly. No, he refuses to allow this to be his reality. This cannot be happening. He won’t allow this to happen.

“Harley, bear,” Peter repeats, grip tightening.

Oh my God, this is happening.

“Don’t run,” he says in an undertone. “You’re not supposed to run.”

“We gotta run.”

“Peter, no.”

“Harley, there’s a fucking bear.”

“Listen to me—,”

“I’m gonna grab you—,”

“—we gotta stay still and—,”

“I’ll carry you and—,”

“—non-threatening so—,”

“I’m going to get you up a tree and then—,”

“—it won’t chase us.”

“—the bear will chase me.”

“Peter—,”

“It’ll be fine.”

“—no.”

~*~

He waits in the tree for over an hour, ankle throbbing, sick to his stomach with worry, wondering if he’ll ever see the idiot he stupidly fell in love with ever again. Even if he didn’t get eaten by the bear, he’s no good out here in the woods. He could be lost. He could be too hurt to move. He could be—

—covered in what smells like animal shit and standing balefully at the base of the tree.

“I need a hug,” Peter says, voice small.

“Did you—,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“So that’s—,”

“Don’t say it. Do you need help getting down?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t touch me.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be in the lake. Will you bring me all of the soap and soap-like products we own?”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

I love you. I’m glad you’re not dead. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. My life wouldn’t be the same without you in it. You’re everything I want.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

~*~

“Black bears can run 35 miles per hour,” he says conversationally. They’re sprawled on a blanket while the fire crackles nearby (but not too close, they’ve had enough disasters for one day). His foot is propped on the tackle box, elevating his ankle and Peter is beside him, flat on his back staring up at the stars through the trees, close enough that their arms brush.

“Trust me, I know.”

“They can also climb trees,” he continues reading from his phone. “You should never climb a tree to avoid a bear.”

“Harley—,”

“If a bear notices you, stay calm. Most bears don’t want to attack you.”

“Dude, I get it.”

“Move away slowly and sideways. Do not run. Do not climb a tree.”

Peter snatches the phone out of his hands and sits up. “I panicked, okay? I can’t lose you! I had to get you out of there.”

He goes still, the crackling of the fire and the crickets the only sound in the night.

“Say again?”

“Don’t,” Peter says harshly, still holding his phone far out of reach. “Don’t make fun of me about this one. You don’t get it, okay?”

This isn’t how he expected this to happen. Hyper aware of his heart beating in his chest, he asks, “What don’t I get?”

“I was terrified.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

“Not in the way I was. I was— It was like— It was like if anything happened to you, nothing would be okay ever again. I don’t—,” He pulls in a deep breath, chest heaving as his eyes shine uncommonly bright in the firelight. “I don’t know. You’re— Ever since we met things have just felt right and good in a way they hadn’t before and I’ve already lost so many people and then you were in danger and I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t.”

“Okay,” he says gently, sitting upright and scooting over on the blanket. “Okay.” He takes the phone and sets it aside then takes Peter’s hand in both of his. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Peter says miserably, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “I think I have been for a long time.”

“Well, that’s lucky because I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You— What?”

“Mhmm. Since at least this morning.”

Peter stares at him. His lips twitch. “This morning? For real? Are you teasing me?”

“A hundred percent serious. It hit me right before you dumped my tent poles all over 36th street. Unrelated, you should wear my clothes more often.” He pauses and then says, “I think today was the universe asking me if I was sure I wanted to be tied down to your dumb ass for the rest of forever.”

“And?” Peter asks, eyes wide in the firelight.

“Yeah,” he says, smoothing a curl away from his forehead. “I’m sure.”

Peter leans in and kisses him, soft and quick. “Is that okay?”

Heart in his mouth, he says, “I think you can do better.”

Peter laughs and smooths his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

[queenmylovely]

Okay okay okay i have a blurb request - reader and rog are chilling out and shes like playing with his hair and discovers *dun dun dun* a grey hair and has to talk roger down from a midlife crisis or whatever lmao

I was a little worried I wouldn’t be able to turn this into smut other than the usual “I’ll show you I'm not old” railing (which I love) but never fear, cause I’m actually very happy with where this ended up. Thank you babe for a great prompt and for being my smut muse as always 

warnings are smut (18+), cussing, and it’s 1.9k 

☆☆☆

As much as Roger thought he could always go go go, there were days that he preferred to hang out at your place the whole day. These days were usually after a big concert, several long days in the studio, or a big party. This time it was a party. To be more specific, Freddie had thrown a Hanukkah party. Even though he wasn’t Jewish and to your knowledge knew almost nothing about the holiday, he argued that it was only fair to throw a Hanukkah party if he was going to throw a Christmas one.

His decorations were blue and white with giant menorahs and dreidels. As well as the usual food, there was latkes, his chef’s interpretation of sufganiyot doughnuts, and gelt everywhere. Freddie had also made sure that all the food was kosher compliant, which you thought was good of him.

Somehow, this Hanukkah party had ended up even wilder than his typical ones, and Roger had paid the price. Normally, he would’ve made it over to yours around 1:00pm the day after a party, but this time he didn’t even come until a day later, though at 9:00am.

He brought with him coffee and muffins so you let him in with a smile instead of grumbling about how he woke you up. Then the day passed pretty much doing nothing. You lounged in your bed sharing breakfast until you were ready to get ready for the day, had a precarious and giggly romp with each other in the shower, made sandwiches and cut up fruit together in the kitchen for lunch, and finally sat on the couch half-watching Christmas movies as they came on the tv.

While you had both started sitting up, Roger had slowly leaned over onto you until eventually his head was resting in your lap. Because you knew it was what he wanted and because it gave your hands something to do, you started playing with his hair. At first, you did it mindlessly, just feeling your fingers comb through his soft hair. But when the movie switched to one that you had seen a million times before, you paid more attention.

Roger’s hair was shorter than it had been in years past, and while you liked how it looked now, you were a little sad that gone were the days of long, wavy, pretty hair. Still, it was long enough for you to braid little tiny braids into it, especially in the back and on top. That’s what you were doing now, giggling as his head became covered in one inch long braids. Roger didn’t seem to mind, but that was probably because it felt good and he was more than half asleep anyway.

You finally made it to the hair just above his temples, sectioning out the hair that was long enough to braid. That’s when you saw it, a single grey hair among all the bleached and natural blonde.

Before you could help it, you gasped and Roger immediately jerked awake.

“What? What’s wrong?” Roger asked quickly, though his voice was still filled with sleep.

“Oh nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you claimed hurriedly.

“Then why did you gasp like that?”

“It was just the tv, very exciting part.”

He looked at the tv, “One, you’ve seen this thousands of times. Two, this is not an exciting part, nor has there been an exciting part for the last five minutes. So what is it?”

“Well, it’s just that-- I just,” you tried to stall but Roger gave you a look. “... I found a grey hair on your head.”

Roger shot up, both hands going to his head, “What the fuck, no you didn’t!”

“I did,” you grimaced. Then touched his arm, “But it’s okay, it was just the one.”

“No, if there’s one, there’s got to be more!” Roger said, trying to run his fingers through his hair but having trouble. “What the fuck did you do to my hair?”

You had to cover your mouth to keep yourself from bursting out laughing, but when he still looked at you for an answer, you had to reply through laughs, “They’re just little braids.”

“Arghh! Help me!” Roger demanded because as dexterous as his hands usually were, they apparently weren’t very good at undoing braids.

“Here, here, let me,” you said, batting his hands away with a few final giggles. You moved so you were kneeling beside him on the couch so you could reach his hair. It only took a couple minutes to do, during which you could see Roger frowning deeply. You thought about telling him he shouldn’t so he didn’t get frown lines but decided that probably wouldn’t help in the current situation.

“There you go,” you said, sitting back on your heels, smoothing his hair away from his face a final time.

He was still pouting so you thought for a second before speaking again.

“You know, Rog, 31 seems like a very reasonable age to start getting grey hairs. Some people get them in their twenties.”

Roger just looked at his hands.

So you tried a different approach, “And you know, I think you’d look pretty hot with grey hair.”

As you spoke, you placed your hand on Roger’s wrist and he looked up at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’d look sophisticated and confident,” you took a slow breath in. “Like you’re totally in control.”

Roger watched you closely, feeling how the energy in the room was shifting. Then he grabbed the hand that was on his wrist, pulling you closer until you got the idea and slung a leg over so you were straddling him.

“In control of what?” he asked, lowering his gaze ever so slightly towards you and lifting a finger to brush along your jawline.

“Whatever you want,” you almost whispered, waiting until he tilted your chin up before you moved closer and kissed him.

He kissed you back, but kept it slow and controlled. Keeping one hand right on your jaw, Roger moved the other to your waist to pull your body close to his. He pulled his thumb on your chin, parting your mouth enough for his tongue to run along the inside of your lower lip. You breathed in sharply and parted your mouth further, just hoping that he would deepen the kiss. To your great relief, he did and you sighed further into the kiss.

The hand that was on your waist started roaming, and whether it was to brush his thumb against your nipple, to splay his fingers across your ass and squeeze before landing a sharp spank, or to reach up and pull on your hair, every move caused a moan to be pulled from you.

You had fully lost yourself in the kiss when Roger’s hand crept in between the two of you, so his thumb pressing along your slit until it reached your clit made you gasp and pull away from the kiss for a second. His thumb rubbed you through your sweatpants and your brow furrowed as you focused on the feeling.

“Does that feel good?” Roger murmured, and when you looked at him there was a confident glint in his eyes that made you swallow thickly.

You nodded and Roger waited expectantly so you continued, “Yes, so good.”

“Good ‘cause that's what I wanted. To control your pleasure by giving you all of it,” his words and the way he was touching you made you shiver.

Suddenly, he pushed you to stand but he started pushing down your pants and underwear and you hurried to help. You tried to do the same with his, but he shook his head and stood up.

Roger motioned to the arm of the couch, “Lay back there.”

You did as he said, putting down a throw pillow first to cushion your back. You leaned back, legs in front of you and bent at the knee, your feet resting on the couch cushions. Roger laid down on the couch in front of you on his stomach. To fit he had to bend his knees too and so he crossed his ankles in the air. You thought it was cute but before you could say anything or laugh Roger licked right up your slit from your entrance to your clit.

There were no light kisses and licks to work you up to more; instead, he just latched his lips onto your clit and started sucking, your hips jumping up underneath him. So Roger used his left hand to press down on your hips and keep you from moving too much. His lips felt so good that you couldn’t resist tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

After a minute, Roger lifted his head a little, but it was just to let some of his spit drip onto your pussy. It was kind of a strange feeling since there was so little pressure, but then his right hand came up between your thighs and as he got his first two fingers wet, you understood what it was for.

Roger pushed his fingers in together, going slow enough so you could adjust, but the stretch still made you groan quietly and open your legs wider. He thrusted them in and out of you two more times and the slight pain was gone, letting you appreciate the feeling of fullness his fingers gave you.

His tongue found its way back to your clit, circling it before pressing down on it with broad licks. Roger was searching for your g spot with his fingers and once he did, he started sucking your clit at the same time.

The feeling turned your moan into a cry of pleasure, “Ah, Roger!”

His only response was to hum against you, and the buzz of the vibrations made a bolt of pleasure run throughout your entire body. Roger kept up this routine, making you moan and whine and whimper and then rewarding you with a hum every time you did. It all became overwhelming when he added another finger, stretching you further and increasing the pressure and pleasure on your g spot.

“I’m-- fuck--”

“You’re close?” Roger asked to confirm.

“Yes, yeah, ohhhh--”

“Come,” he told you, returning his lips to your clit, fingering you deftly, and humming against you, stronger this time.

You had told him he was in control, and it was true because as soon as he did that, you were coming, your legs involuntarily wrapping around his head as the pleasure ran through you, leaving you moaning and breathless.

Roger kept going until you let your legs down, placing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before smiling up at you. You reached for him and he acquiesced, finding your lips and kissing you deeply as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Breaking away from the kiss, you looked between you to his boner that was still present in his sweatpants, “Do you want me to suck you off?”

“That’d be nice,” Roger said nonchalantly, and you hit his shoulder lightly.

He got up, pushing down his sweatpants and briefs, kicking them to the side. You sat on the edge of the couch, figuring it’d be easiest to do with him standing and you sitting.

Placing your hands on the sides of his thighs, you looked up at him with only slight hesitation,“Do you-- can you control this too?”

Roger grinned.

★★★

[honeytea8]

So, discord was too hype this fine evening, and my lovely JoJo compatriots got me going on this crackship.

(If you ship a crack pairing and you KNOW it’s a crack pairing, this ones for you lmao! Live your dreams, boys 🤠 this is fanfiction)

Yeah, so here’s my little AbbaMis scenario raw and unedited. All I ask is that you humor me for a sec 😂 

Okay so boom: let’s say it’s some time post-series and everyone lives, yay right? Wrong! Because Abbacchio is still stuck pining after Bruno and you know what Bruno does? This dude gets MARRIED! The ship has sailed and Abbacchio never got on it. He can’t be upset because, he loves Bruno for real so if his old Capo is happy then Abba is too (insert air-quotes). He considers skipping the wedding but Mista won’t let him. The two have formed this weird friendship thing since Bruno is no longer affiliated with the mafia. Mista has assumed the role of helping Abbacchio stay afloat given the circumstances.

Abbacchio manages to suffer thru the wedding (he vomits only once so he calls it a win). All the festivities happen and it’s over. Abbacchio is hurting bro, like he’s losing sleep, can’t eat or function. He’s actually LOVESICK! Fast forward some months and he and Mista are on a mission. They’re staking out some building (a rival gang’s HQ, idk lmao).

It’s midnight, they’re both sitting in the car, nothings happening. But you know how Mista gets, this dude loves to have random conversations. So somehow (by magic probably) Mista gets Abbacchio to talk about his high school days. About how he used to wear dark, grunge makeup and lipstick, etc. They talk about the stupid shit they did as youth and eventually they fall on the topic of love.

It ain’t no secret that Abbacchio loved (loves?) Bruno. Mista knows this and tries to get him to open up. (I have this theory that Mista’s silliness makes it easy for ppl to confide and talk to him). Abba opens up and actually breaks down crying. Like smeared mascara, bleeding eye liner. He says one thing that nearly breaks Mista in two.

“I fell so in love with him. And I-I fucking thought he would catch me, but he didn’t.”

Mista pulls him in for a hug, because that’s all he knows how to do. When Fugo is having a hard time, when Narancia’s going thru shit, even Giorno on a rare occasion, Mista will come thru with the hugs!!! So he’s petting Abbacchio’s hair (the hat falls off lmao). And Abba is just sobbing into his sweater, nearly drenching the thing. Mista starts to worry because, humans shouldn’t be able to produce this many tears, right? But then he remembers that this is YEARS of stockpiled pain, regret, and self-loathing.

Suddenly Abbacchio shoves him off. He’s wiping at his face, which is a whole red (makeup-smeared) mess by now. Mista just levels him with a look, like stop building these walls around you, bro, you’re trapped!

“You judging me now, Mista?” Abbacchio sneers, but if anything he looks like a cornered animal.

“Dude, of course not. I would never...”

Mista scrubs his head with his nails, through his beanie before pulling it off an fanning himself with it (car ain’t got no AC).

Abbacchio is silent, brooding and put out but mostly regretting his outburst. He’s thinking ‘Fuck, this is pathetic, even for me’

Thankfully, they don’t bring it back up. They don’t talk about it but neither of them really forget. So it just sits in the back of both of their minds. Simmering and building up to... something, but they don’t know what. It’s a door that’s been kicked wide open and they can’t shut it.

To cut a very long and convoluted story short: They all share a house (in this stupid scenario) and it’s a rare chance where only the two of them are home. Mista eats dinner and promptly conks out. He swears only five minutes pass before there’s a knock at his door. Glancing at his clock, he sees it’s been about two hours and it’s thundering like crazy outside so much that it’s rattling against his window.

He stumbles to open the door, it’s Abbacchio. But not just that, this is Abbacchio bare-faced and au natural. No heavy makeup or dark lipstick. Just him and his little freckles, ash white eyebrows, and pink lips.

“You gonna let me in, or are you just gonna stare at me like a zoo animal?” Abbacchio mumbles.

Mista snorts and steps aside so Abbacchio can come in. He’s still half asleep and he’s not even sure this is real or not lmao. It’s only when Abbacchio takes a seat on his bed that he realizes that he is awake and this is actually happening. Mista suddenly remembers he’s only in his boxers so now he feels a bit self conscious. Abbacchio isn’t staring or anything—but it’s still weird as hell.

“Was there...something you needed?” Mista yawns. Abbacchio doesn’t reply but he’s doing that thing where he expects Mista to just figure it out.

But it’s like 2am, and raining, and he honestly doesn’t have the patience to just wait and see what happens.

Mista nudges Abba aside and pulls back the covers, “Alright, get in.”

Abbacchio wants to argue, his face says it all, but he really doesn’t want to be alone right now so he complies. Mista gets in after him and you know what this guy does? BIG SPOON! To him, it’s the same as hugging and hugging has worked all this time so what’s the problem?

He snakes his arms around Abbacchio’s waist and pulls him in. Even tucks his chin on his shoulder.

“Comfortable?” Mista asks.

“Y-Yeah...”

For a split second, Abbacchio closes his eyes and imagines its someone else holding him like this. That it’s someone else holding him like they actually want him rather than letting him fall hopelessly in love just to abandon him.

Doing this to Mista isn’t fair. Mista isn’t a replacement, but a friend. A loyal one who’s been there literally every step of the way. 

In a lapse in judgement, he brings Mista’s hand to his lips and kisses it. Mumbling a ‘thank you’ against his wrist.

(And the rest is n/sfw...lmfao, so yeah... yay, for crack! We love to see it 💓)

[setsureadsshit]

Lost At Sea: A List of WIP’s I am finally letting go of [ Part 1 ]

Finally going through my subscriptions on AO3 and clearing out the fics that haven’t gotten an update in too many years or have been orphaned since the last time I looked at them but what chapters were posted are worth reading as long as you don’t mind being left frustrated. Could also be considered a final plea and/or thank you/love letter to the authors for having written them at all, I don’t know how many parts this will take because I have like, 7ish pages of subscriptions on AO3 lmao so just, you know *hand waves* settle in the ride with me.

With the Bodies in the Gutter by TriDom

Summary: Derek works with the FBI to dismantle sex trafficking rings from the inside out. It's grueling, but he never believed that the wear on him outweighed the good he and his team did. Until he finds his mate with a new group that had been taken. He jeopardizes everything to get him out, only to have to turn his back on him before his mate is even awake.

Last Update: 2017

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf; Sterek

Personal Notes: At 16 chapters it gives you enough progress to kinda feel satisfied. It dropped off at a kind of lull before ramping up into the next crisis action which also helps I think. Only mildly unsatisfying for not getting to the true “happy ending” but I’m not mad about it.

Where Is My Bright Future by Steamcraft

Summary: au: Derek and Stiles meet at a German camp.

“My name…” The boy trails, then grimaces. “Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek’s eyebrows rise. “Stiles. Nickname?”

Stiles nods. “You English, how is it… Butcher.”

That surprises a laugh out of him. Stiles looks startled at the sound, heart racing, before he tentatively smiles.“You laugh, but its true.”

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf; Sterek

Personal Notes: I read this a long time ago and I remember it being both really good and really heavy but also getting a little lost in the middle. It’s got 14 chapters though so, like the fic above I feel like it’s a satisfactory read even if there isn’t a real ending.

When Sparks Fly by LunaCanisLupus_22

Summary: “Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek's head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

Or the one where spark!Stiles moves into an enchanted apartment block owned by a grumpy alpha and is completely oblivious to the building's efforts to matchmake them.

Last Update: 2016

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf; Sterek

Personal Notes: This one is a little harder to categorize because it started out as a like, 2 chapter completely completed fic - and then the author came back and added more? So it’s unclear if they plan on coming back and adding more again since they’ve left it uncompleted but you know *hand waves*. In any event, it’s a definite good read, one of my favorites, highly recommended.

Where A Mask, Be A Hero by A_Whistful_Writer

Summary: Oliver Queen had started a crusade in his father’s name, alone. It was bitter, harsh and unrelenting. He was left with scars and bruises that only seemed to double with each passing day. But then he found companions in his fight. Laurel, Diggle, Felicity, Roy. They made things more bearable, and for a while, he was happy, even though there was a gaping hole in his heart. Something was missing.And that was when Oliver met Barry Allen.

Last Update: 2018

Fandom & Main Pairing: Arrow/The Flash ; Flarrow

Personal Notes: It’s honestly just a retelling of the first however many seasons of each show but with a little more OTP filling. The later chapters kinda lost the plot and I was hoping it’d pick up again and really start rolling but I’m throwing in the towel on this one. 

The Fault Is Not In Our Stars - Orphan

Summary: After a long and wretched campaign, Asgard has conquered Jotunheim. To ensure King Laufey's cooperation and later friendship between the kingdoms, Asgard takes home the apparent heir to the throne, Loki Laufeyson. Loki is, unfortunately, anything but complacent.Based on the art by stunningly talented Wantstobelieve: http://wantstobelieve.tumblr.com/post/18102496999/guess-who-just-watched-troy-again-yup-that

Last Update: 2013

Fandom & Main Pairing: Thor ; Thunderfrost

Personal Notes: I had hoped this would be a case of the author regaining their writing inspiration with a new Thor movie on the horizon and promptly forgot about it for...a long time, lmao. I’m glad that the author chose to orphan the story instead of simply deleting it because it may only be 8 chapters but they’re very well written and the story is compelling, even unfinished.

Time Will Crawl by coldhope

Summary: Inspired by one of kaciart's amazing drawings: the Winter Soldier faced with a pre-serum Steve Rogers and--conversely--1940s Bucky Barnes coming home to find Captain America lurking in the kitchen.

Last Update: 2014

Fandom & Main Pairing: Captain America (MCU) ; Stucky

Personal Notes: It’s only two chapters which isn’t long enough to *really* get attached to something but the concept was interesting enough to hold my attention/hope that it’d get continued. 

The What’s And How’s of Raising Werewolves by kit_cat

Summary: Stiles is twenty-five and shares his bed with a five-year-old werewolf who calls him mommy. This isn't how he expected his life to turn out.Or in which Derek is a kindergarten teacher, the Hales are alive, Danny is overly romantic for a five-year-old, and Stiles has somehow Magicked his way into being the legal guardian of three werelings all under the age of ten... and may or may not be on the run from a league of werewolf kidnapping hunters.

Last Update: 2017

Fandom & Main Pairing: Teen Wolf ; Sterek

Personal Notes: So I’m...technically not giving up on this one since it’s gone 3 years between updates before and really like this story so I’m going to hold onto this hope for a little while longer but it’s a very very slim hope. This is a fic that does NOT leave off with a satisfactory feeling even though it’s 9 chapters in, those 9 chapters really are just the place setting and maybe a charcuterie board or two while guests mingle but you could start smelling the main course from the kitchen. 

Trust by trufflemores

Summary: "Barry reels Oliver in for a hug. Oliver grants him three seconds, pulling back with his own irrepressible smile, knowing he looks like young-and-in-love which is ridiculous because he's not. Maybe, a tiny, impulsive part of him argues, he wants to be."

Last Update: 2017

Fandom & Main Pairing: The Flash/Arrow ; Flarrow

Personal Notes: I have spent I don’t KNOW how many months on and off trying to find this fic again, only to discover I’ve had it the whole fucking time! Specifically, the way trufflemores describes how they interact - giving words to all of the silent conversations they have, how they translated Barry and Oliver’s body language to so perfectly into writing. Like, even after I stopped watching The Flash (and had long since stopped watching Green Arrow), I still watched the crossover episodes because watching Barry and Oliver (and later Kara) interact was always my favorite thing. Honestly, watching both teams together was always so much fun - the episodes were just fun, but I digress. I don’t honestly remember where this fic leaves off but it was fairly episodic so I don’t really know that it needs an end per say, reading it shouldn’t leave you too dissatisfied. 

The Propinquity Effect by SwiftEmera

Summary: Oliver Queen pretty much ignored his bisexuality, until he clapped eyes on Barry Allen.Unfortunately, Barry is a social pariah, and Oliver's mother is currently running for governor, so Oliver is pretty much trapped in the bisexual closet, unable to come out and associate himself with Barry for the fear of tarnishing his mother's campaign. However, when their teacher pairs the boys up to work on a Psychology project based around the subject of sexual attraction, Oliver's willpower to keep his distance is strongly tested.

Last Update: 2015

Fandom & Main Pairing: The Flash/Arrow ; Flarrow

Personal Notes: I’ve been re-reading most of these as a final send off but this one I’m just not in the mood for unresolved angst. It’s really well written, the characters are really well adapted for the AU, but just knowing it isn’t finished and probably wont ever be I don’t want to invest my energy into something that doesn’t have a conclusion - for better or worse and this is the kind of fic I *need* to have an end. 

[lady-baguette]

I’ve been in an angsty mood lately and while listening to this song I came up with a neat scenario that I wish I had the power to write lmao. But I wrote out the main points of it so hopefully, that’ll do. 

Warning: Blood and character death mentioned briefly towards the end.

-----------

So, somehow Gabriel finds out that Adrien is Chat Noir.

Gabe goes to confront him about this and reveals that he’s Hawkmoth. He wants Adrien to help him get the Ladybug earrings so that they can bring Emilie back. Gabe doesn’t show Adrien the casket in the basement though.

Adrien is furious and goes off on Gabe about how much pain and suffering he’s caused to Paris. Hawkmoth has akumatized most of his own class! His best friend! Adrien calls him a monster and Gabe realizes that there won’t be any getting through to his son so he says that one way or another, he will get the ladybug earrings and cat ring, even if he has to Akumatized his own son to do it.

Threatened with Akumatazation, Adrien goes cold and unfeeling so Gabe can’t use him to hurt anybody, especially Ladybug. And it works. The two of them reach a sort of standstill

Despite Plagg’s pestering, Adrien doesn’t go to Ladybug for help, he feels almost responsible for his father’s actions and wants to try and clean up this mess alone.

Life looks normal for the Agrestes on the outside, but once both of them are home, they are arguing, at each other's throat, trying to make the other see reason. Adrien will barge into Gabe's study unannounced to try and take the butterfly brooch, but each time he does this Gabe is never wearing it. Sometimes during their arguing, Adrien will transform to try and intimidate his father to take the brooch by force, but each time he does this Gabe transforms as well, glaring daggers at his son. This causes Adrien to back off immediately and block off all his emotions so that Hawkmoth can’t take advantage of his anger.

This goes on for a while and as an act of rebellion, Adrien stops attending his photoshoots, lessons, and other extra curriculums. He would attend fencing a some times if only to take his anger out in some sparring. Kagami notices that something is off but Adrien always dodges her questions. Eventually, he just stops showing up altogether.

Adrien will also ignore his bodyguard, in favor of just walking around the city and hiding out in libraries and cafes and stuff. Gabe has ordered the Gorilla to take some time off for the time being. Sometimes Adrien will find himself at Nino’s or Marinette’s asking to stay for a while. Anything to avoid going home.

The squad notices that Adrien is looking increasingly more tired with each passing day. But despite their best efforts, they are unable to coax an answer out of him.

Chat has also become more distant from Ladybug. Dodging her calls, avoiding patrols. Gabe is too focused on the cold war he is having with his son to send out any Akuma. So if they happen to run into each other in suit Chat just shrugs her off and runs away. Ladybug wants to follow but doesn’t want to accidentally find out something she shouldn’t know.

One night, the arguing between father and son escalates into a full out brawl. If they can’t use their words to get through to each other, then they’ll use their fists.

They’re throwing each other against walls and furniture. Things are breaking. Walls are cracking. The main hall of the mansion is an absolute wreck but the two keep at it.

Soon things escalate even further. Gabe pulls a sword (that I like to think is in his Hawkmoth cane) and starts to attack Adrien with it. This is also the part where Gabe lets it slip that Emilie is in the basement in comatose.

At this, Adrien fully snaps realizing his father is no longer the man he once knew. The two of them stand across from each other amidst the broken foyer in an intense stare down. Adrien decides to summon a Cataclysm.

The two lunged for each other and scarcely dodge the others attack. Gabe does manage to scrape Adrien’s cheek or maybe his arm with his blade though.

Gabe decides now is the best time to egg his son on, trying to capitalize on his son’s emotions to create an Akuma. He makes some sort of snarky comment, either about LB or Emilie, and Adrien really loses it. His eyes are wild, as if they're actually on fire, and he lets out this yell that sounds like a lion’s roar. His Cataclysm is still active but it's not a Cataclysm anymore, it’s something else. Something much more deadly.

Chat moves too fast for Hawkmoth to react and before either of them know it, Chat is literally ripping the butterfly brooch off of Hawkmoth and slamming his Cataclysm fist into a now detransformed Gabriel’s chest.

There’s an explosion.

Marinette is jolted awake from the sound of it. Car alarms are blaring in the streets. She blinks the sleep away quickly, adrenaline kicking in, and without much thinking, transforms into Ladybug and leaps out her skylight. She doesn’t even think about how her parents are probably going to be checking up on her.

She sees the faint glow of fire in the distant. Right in the direction if Adrien’s house. She books it towards the mansion.

As she gets closer to the mansion she sees that the roof is completely gone. Windows are blown out. There is fire and smoke in the wreckage.

Ladybug lands in the foyer, intending to call out to anyone who may be in the house, but she freezes when she notices Chat Noir standing in the middle of the smoke and wreckage. He’s standing tall and breathing heavily, he doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s there. His eyes are intently focused on something else…

Ladybug follows his gaze and sees none other than Gabriel Agreste lying motionless a few feet away from Chat. There’s a gaping hole in his chest and he’s surrounded by both blood and this weird black sludge. Ladybug’s senses start to catch up with her and the whole room smells of death. She has to look away before she loses her dinner.

She looks up to see Chat Noir looking at her now. His stare stops her dead in her tracks. He doesn’t look like himself. His face is completely emotionless but his eyes are wild and intense, unlike anything Ladybug has ever seen. His look causes her to shiver

She opens her mouth to call out to him but before she can even get a word out he quickly tosses a small object her way. Thanks to her quick reflexes in suit she catches the object easily. Her jaw goes slack when she sees what the object is.

The butterfly brooch.

Hawkmoth’s miraculous.

A million questions form on the tip of her tongue but when Ladybug snaps her head up to look at Chat Noir… he’s gone.

[easier-5sos]

Okay so there's this video (if you look up 'ghost of you luke crying' on youtube its the first one) of them performing ghost of you and Luke looks ROUGH. Like he's kinda shaking and he's all sweaty and pale looking, which is probably just the lights and stuff, but he looks nervous or like something's wrong. So could you write something about that? Like he has to perform with a fever or something?

heLLO!! He cried during Lie To Me at my MYT concert- highkey I wanted to jump on stage and hug my poor baby :((

(this has some comedy to it, which I thought was fuckin hilarious dONT JUDGE ME I HAVE A SHITTY SENSE OF HUMOUR LMAO)

-

Luke woke up in the hotel bed feeling rough- rougher than he had the day before. It was pretty cold in Sweden the last few days, and the band had been travelling in Europe during the colder months to perform their shows for the Meet You There tour. He sniffled his nose, rubbing it against the backs of his hands to hopefully clear them so he could breathe easier.

It was no hope.

He huffed out in annoyance, rolling round to face your sleeping body in the bed beside him- jealous that you could sleep easy, and he didn’t have a chance.

When it came to being sick, Luke was a wimp and you knew it. He was a baby when taking his medicine- always complaining that the taste made him feel worse, even if it did end up making him better; the poor boy cried when he threw up, tears running down his pale face; and he always wanted to cuddle you, even if what he had was contagious.

Finally, after a few more minutes of Luke sulking, feeling sorry for himself, and huffing angrily at the fact that he couldn’t breathe too well, he sneezed right in your face. You jolted awake, rubbing your tired eyes as Luke’s own blue ones apologetically looked toward you.

“Thanks…” You grumbled, pressing your face into the pillows to wipe away the snot and spit that landed there- it was a rude awakening.

Luke pouted, “I can’t help it! I think I have a cold…”

You nodded in agreement, reaching your hand up toward his forehead to check his temperature- to your surprise, he was hotter than the sex you both had a few days ago.

“Maybe a fever, bubs” You pointed out.

Luke whimpered, running a hand through his golden halo of curls. He was due to perform later in the evening, but performing whilst sick was a hassle he hated dealing with, especially since no one would let him take a day off. The managers had had enough of Luke complaining recently, especially when it came to something Luke wasn’t too happy with- you found it rather rude that management never took what Luke said on board, especially given he was the lead singer of the band.

A few hours later, and Luke’s fever had gotten much worse. He was sweating, dampening the golden curls that framed his face; his nose was red, even though it looked cute like that; and Luke wouldn’t stop complaining that he didn’t feel great, which the mangers were getting sick of.

“Baby…” Luke complained, arms wrapped around your own as you all but struggled to walk down the halls of the venue, “I don’t feel good…”

“I know bubs- you’ve told me so many times today. But you’ve got to. Management can’t afford to replace the date this late” You softly smiled toward him, knowing how Luke hated being sick, especially when he was due to perform for a few hours in the evening.

To accomodate Luke being sick, you took over the stylists and make-up artists job- since they didn’t want to catch whatever Luke had, and hearing him complain was driving almost everyone away from him, he was basically a gigantic baby. 

You’d found the lightest shirt Luke owned- one that covered everything he wanted to cover, yet was still light enough for someone running a fever to wear- which happened to be his almost sheer leopard print shirt; you forced him to put on pants that unfortunately didn’t match anything, however the flare at the bottom would keep his legs cool; and his boots without the heel, so Luke wouldn’t somehow fall over and sprain his ankle because of his shoe choice. In all fairness, you were pretty proud with the outcome of the outfit, tying it all together with a nice belt that adorned a large silver buckle in the middle- it was very Luke. 

Next, you tried your hardest to make Luke look more alive- as his skin was deathly pale, his nose was red, and his cheeks were tinted pink. You sat on the counter in the dressing room, Luke sitting on a chair between your legs, his sweaty hands on your thighs in a deathly grip he wasn’t willing to let go of. Letting the inner make-up artist inside you flourish- from watching all the beauty gurus on YouTube, and deeming yourself worthy of being a beauty guru- you dashed on some glittery pink eyeshadow to Luke’s eyelids, however highlighter wasn’t needed as he was already sweating so much from the fever.

You watched as Luke’s eyes grew heavy, blissfully falling asleep as you tried your hardest to pat his forehead down- his skin was burning, and the usual excited glint in his diamond blue eyes was gone, which was a telltale sign that Luke was well and truly sick.

In the back of your mind, you worried that Luke would collapse on stage during a song, maybe because he didn’t drink enough water to begin with, or because he was exhausted from the fever- and you hoped it wouldn’t happen.

Luke slowly sat up from the chair, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he gave you a weak smile. You were tempted to storm down to the tour managers and complain that Luke wasn’t fit to perform- however you knew they wouldn’t listen to you, you were just dating the lead singer, no big deal.

Slowly, the sick, lanky blonde made his way to where the rest of his band was situated, waiting for the signal to get on stage. He didn’t look great.

“Luke, what’s up man? Are you good?” Ashton inquired, tapping out a beat on the wall with his drumsticks.

Luke shook his head, wiping at his forehead again.

“Personally, I think he shouldn’t perform.” You butted in.

“Yeah- he doesn’t look at all lively” Calum pointed out, nodding in agreement.

Michael nodded too, “We should go talk to someone”

“They won’t listen. We tried this morning, but Luke’s fever got worse.” You sighed in annoyance.

Calum rolled his eyes, “Of course they didn’t.”

“Listen, I’ll get more water bottles from the dressing room, but can someone continue to remind Luke to keep his liquids up?” You raised an eyebrow toward the band, as they all hummed an agreement.

Luke whimpered, arms wrapping around one of yours once again, “Y/N I wanna go home…” nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I know bubs, I know- but you can’t. Fuckin’ management won’t let you.” You grumbled, getting tired of how management was pushing these boys to the extreme.

In under ten minutes, the band was out on stage- with Luke flopping around the place, a small smile on his lips as he tried his hardest to keep up with everything else around him. Lucky, no one had noticed his lack of enthusiasm just yet- as the first break rolled around. You’d managed to let the managers give the band a few more breaks than usual, as they’d noticed the lack of fire in Luke’s performance.

Luke immediately made a B-Line for you, almost collapsing his entire body onto yours the second his skin made contact with your own. You stumbled backward, falling onto a chair that was luckily behind you.

“You alright bubs?” You asked, hand soothing his wild curls.

Luke shook his head, “I can’t do it…”

“You’re doing amazing Lu! I’m so proud of you, okay?” You tried your hardest to give him positive reinforcement, so he’d be more willing to go back on stage- you knew that once Luke got comfortable, he was less likely to get off you again.

Only a few minutes later, he was all but dragged on stage by Michael, who let Luke sit down on the mini stage for Ashton’s drum kit- a water bottle in hand as he forced Luke to drink it.

Another break rolled around, and Luke was looking worse than ever. He stumbled toward you, and you let him collapse on you once again- being prepared by already sitting on the chair.

He whimpered into your ear, “I wanna go home…. Can’t do this…” once again.

“Only two more sets to go bubs, and then we’ll be on our way back to the hotel! You got this!” You smiled, watching as he rubbed his eyes- the eyeshadow going absolutely everywhere, tainting his hands in pink, glittery shadow.

Once again, the band dragged Luke on stage, and he performed at the seat of the piano- a microphone set up so Luke could sing from the comfort of the seat, instead of in front of the entire crowd, so they weren’t able to see how sick he really was. There was sweat trickling down his forehead, pink eyeshadow all around his eyes, and his hair was a mess- but he kept going.

That was, until the last break.

Luke came stumbling toward you, tears picking at his eyes and pink, glittery eyeshadow on almost every possible patch of skin on his face. You knew that this was the last straw for him, as he slouched down on top of you again.

You pulled out all the stops, “I don’t think he’s going to make it. I don’t want him collapsing from exhaustion on stage. I’m taking him back to the hotel.” You all but demanded.

Even though the situation was the opposite of romantic, Ashton made a comment about how much he adored the fact that you cared so much for Luke, as Calum awed- even though you knew Calum, of all people, didn’t believe in love.

Letting Luke slouch against your entire body, you made your way through the backstage hallways, ignoring the managers that shouted at you to give them the lead singer back. You’d have to explain it all in the morning, but for now, they’d have to do without the lead singer- who wasn’t capable of finishing the concert tonight.

Finally, after an hour of arguing with the security guard, who instructed you to take Luke back on stage, and another twenty minutes driving in an Uber to the hotel- you had Luke back in the hotel room. You pulled the sweaty clothes from his body, feeling just how hot his skin had gotten from performing and the fever on top of it all. The eyeshadow was no longer on Luke’s eyes, but all around his face instead, as you lightly chuckled at how much of a toddler Luke looked like. His golden curls were drenched in sweat, as you tied all the curls into a bun- making sure to massage Luke’s head in the process to calm him down, which always worked a treat.

After all that, it didn’t take long for Luke to pass out on the hotel bed, before sneezing in your face one last time- as a thank you, for helping him, you assumed.

[nymphisl]

Bae Jinyoung as your boyfriend

- you and jinyoung are neighbours, and oddly enough you both hardly even recognise each others presence - whilst walking to school, during school and the walk home you guys generally ignore each other - that doesn’t mean you don’t think about each other though - you notice jinyoung always lingering outside his house and only starting to walk to school once you’ve left your house - he waits for you so you can walk together! (by together i mean jinyoung walking an awkward distance away from you) - he thinks you don’t notice but of course you do - “are you waiting for me?” - “me? Waiting for you? Well… I guess you noticed…“ - jinyoung losing confidence and staring at the ground - “let’s properly walk to school together, rather than having this weird distance between us- I mean we are neighbours so we may as well.” - jinyoung smiling was a rare moment (for now) and your lips instantly turn up at the sight of his smile - your friendship slowly develops, from awkward conversations about homework to having an intense conversation on conspiracy theories - “y/n stop scaring me with your lies, yOU ARE FAKE NEWS!!!” - jinyoung refusing to listen to your theories and deciding to run away - and now it’s some form of hide and seek as you can’t seem to find jinyoung - “jinyoung… Please come out, I dont want to walk home without you. I’ll be too lonely without you… Jinyoungieeee I’m sorry!!” - his heart melted when you tried to do aegyo, whether it was because he cringed so much or maybe the fact he was hopelessly in love with you - “sURPRISE” - he jumped out of nowhere and somehow you ended up in his arms - in the heat of the moment before he knew it, jinyoung had his head leaning in and so did you - first kiss yeAH BOIII - his lips are soft and a blush quickly spreads - awkward silences otw home and jinyoung continuously glancing your way - “y/n, I’m sorry. I was out of order, I should’ve just held my feeling- I shouldn’t have just sprung on you like that we should just forg-” - “I like you bae jinyoung.” - he slowly intertwines his finger with yours - “me too… I like you.” - yay relationship!!!! - regular detours on the route to school just so he can talk to you for longer - jinyoung is shy with your relationship and you both have decided to keep it on the down low so not many people know you guys are dating - he has a habit of walking past you in the hallway, deliberately making sure his fingers quickly linger on yours - eye contact from the other side of the hallway - “yah jinyoung, you’ll never guess what, I’m paired up with y/n for the project. I’m so lucky, not only is she smart but kind of cute- do you think y/n has a boyfriend?” - you can tell jinyoung is angry even from the other side of the hallway, he slammed his locker before leaving without even saying bye to his friend - it’s lunch and your at the rooftop where you normally eat lunch together and you see jinyoung pacing around - “what’s wrong? Did something happen, you seem kind of annoyed…” - he ignores you and continues to pace around - “if you’re going to be like this I’ll just eat lunch in the cafeteria.” - you storm off into the cafeteria not realising that jinyoung was actually following you - you reach the cafeteria only to realise everyone’s eyes are on you, and then you look down to see jinyoung is firmly holding onto your hand… - “wOW… yAH Y/N WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT DATING JINYOUNG?!” - everyone was listening in to the conversation between the two of you and your group of friends - “we’ve been dating for a long time already, I thought most people knew…” - jinyoung answered for you, a smirk on his lips as he wrapped his hand around your waist, he knew everyone was watching and made sure they witnessed this - so now your relationship is public!!! - holding hands and he makes sure to hold your hand even tighter when you started complaining about how sweaty his palms are - convenience store dates, which include several cups of ramen - you watch him slurp his noodles and you can’t help but smile at how goddamn cute he looks - “you must be thinking, ‘wow my boyfriend is so goddamn cute I’m so lucky to have him’- admit it y/n.” - “no, I’m thinking ‘wow my boyfriend has sauce all over his lips’ hehehehehe” - he stops eating and props his elbows on the table, leaning his face onto his hands PSH trying to be cute… It was working - “the sauce just makes my lips even more kissable, y/n I know you want to kiss meeee” - his lips were pouted and he was doing a silly type of aegyo but jinyoung was right, you did want to kiss him - your lips meet and you can taste the ramen which causes giggles from the both of you - jinyoung also enjoys giving you back hugs, normally out of the blue at the most random moments - but you enjoys the way his arms feel around your waist and the way he nuzzles his face into your neck - you’ve realised he enjoys your neck a lot - in dramas the girl normally leans on the boys shoulder, but lmao it’s the other way around for you guys - jinyoung likes placing his head on your shoulder and enjoys leaving kisses on your neck - studying together includes both of you getting distracted by one another - your both trying to study for the English test but in all honesty, the both of you are more interested in other things - “I’m getting bored, y/n let’s take a break, pleaseee” - he’s realised that aegyo is the key that allows him to get what you want - “how about no” - you focus your attention back to your notes but at the corner of your eyes you can see jinyoung approaching you - a hand appears on your waist and the other on your cheek - and before you know it, the studying turns into a make out session - “jinyoung did you know that I have the same birthday as youngmin sunbae” - you spilled the most random things into the conversation, which was fine with jinyoung - but today he just wasn’t talking so you were trying your best to form some kind of conversation - “what’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking? Are you okay…” - he let go of your hand and turned to face you - “did you know that you’ve been hanging around with youngmin loads, you even left me to walk home by myself to stay with him and now you won’t stop talking about him” - you can’t help but laugh at how childish he was being rn and it didn’t help that you were annoyed with him for ignoring you the past few days - “so my concern for our relationship is funny?…” - “look jinyoung, I’m laughing because you’re acting childish; we’re in the same dance club and we have to choreograph together, I’ve told you this before. I don’t understand why your so jealous when you know I like you.” - “But he’s so much better looking than me and youngmin can dance, he’s smart and he’s so good looking-” - “jinyoung, by any chance are you in love with youngmin sunbae???” - this caused a chuckle from the both of you, and you slowly approached him, just about reaching your arms around his neck - “stop comparing yourself with others, jinyoung you’re everything I want and need, tsh- why do you ruin the moment, look into my eyes instead of the ground hehehe” - he lifted his eyes to meet with yours - “y/n, I’m not in love with youngmin sunbae but truthfully I do have a shrine in my bedroom dedicated to him. What are you doing to me, I’ve completely fallen for you, y/n I love you so much.” - another chuckle sprung out the both of you before embracing each other once more - “you’re joking about the shrine right? Because if the guy I love has a shrine for someone and that someone isn’t me, we’ll have some sErIOUS issues!1!1!!” - his arm wraps around your shoulder and the both of you start walking home, jinyoung reaches your ear and whispers - “to be honest, the shrine in my room is dedicated to you- and a good 25% of the shrine space is for youngmin” - if you haven’t already guessed, sarcasm is something both of you indulge in - buT anyway first time saying ily!!!! - jinyoung enjoys squishing your cheeks especially when your annoyed, he says you look like an angry bird character - cooking together, I mean if you consider making ramen ‘cooking’ lmao, but y'all are still cute together - arguing over how much water to boil as well as how many packets to put in - “but y/n everytime I put one packet you always finish first and eat some of mine…” - most of the time spent together would be inside in each others arms cuddling; jinyoungs long body would wrap around you and he’d blow into your ear, knowing how ticklish you are - he also tries his best to keep you awake - “y/n I love you, wake up… You’re missing out on my cuteness and me pouring my heart out!!” - “if you continue like this you’ll have nothing to pour out of your heart because I will have stopped it, I just want to sleeeeppp” - he places a soft kiss on your nose before pulling you closer as he tries to drift to sleep - “yah jinyoung, I was kidding, continue telling me about the episode of circle…” - cute pillow talks!! - you’ve both fallen for each other and in love, the end…