#Seeping into our clothes and everything it touches

[patchwork-crow-writes]

65 - A Pocket Full Of Smoke

My hands pass through the ghost you left behind; Memories of a smile that ne'er was mine, Clinging to my fur like a bad habit Or ill-fitting clothes. A musty nostalgia For a home now lost, a heart turned to stone; There's a chill in my soul now I'm alone.

Is it too much to ask for one last touch As a memento, proof that we were real? Oh woe! Scour my heart and make me unfeel The exquisite scars left by your embrace! Wipe clean the tears I left upon your face; Grant me grace to turn from your loving gaze!

I suppose I should send you on your way; And yet my fingers refuse to unfurl From betwixt the curling, coiling vapour Of your dear-departed breath. Here you stay; My lungs full of the smoke left in your wake, As warm as the promise you had to break.

A shadow can't cradle you as you cry And a flame trapped in sable can't survive. So leave me and my ersatz love behind And I'll remember how it used to feel; The promise in the soft light of your eyes That a dream could dare to dream it were real.

______________________________

The Dark Menagerie No. 65

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[godsfavdarling]

Smooth

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader words: 880 summary: Spencer helps you shave your legs. warnings: none! no y/n

The bathroom had turned into a steamy sauna, with the hot water filling the bathtub, creating a thick, misty fog that clung to the mirrors and walls. 

You meticulously washed your legs under the stream, feeling the heat seep into your skin, loosening the muscles as you prepared them for shaving. 

Summer was still in full swing, and your collection of short skirts, dresses, and shorts had yet to be put away. For you smooth legs were essential, and today, you were determined to make sure they were flawless.

After rinsing off the last of the soap, you reached for a new razor from the box and carefully started to shave your ankles, working with slow, deliberate strokes. 

The room was silent save for the hum of the water and the rhythmic scraping of the razor against your skin. 

You had just started on your calves when a gentle knock echoed through the steam-filled room.

“Yeah?” you called out, not looking up from your task.

Spencer gently opened the door and peeked his head inside. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had that concerned look you knew all too well. 

“Everything okay? You’ve been in here longer than usual,” he asked, his voice soft and tinged with worry.

“Not that long,” you chuckled, still focused on shaving. “I just wanted to take my time. Summer’s still here, and I don’t want any burns or bumps. Why?”

“Just worried,” Spencer said quietly, stepping a little further into the bathroom. The steam immediately clung to his skin, and his glasses fogged up slightly.

You finally looked up at him and smiled. “Nothing to worry about. I’m okay.”

“Good.” But he didn’t move, instead lingering by the door, his gaze fixed on you as you worked. 

“What is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Can I try?” he blurted out, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“Try what? You wanna shave your legs?” you teased.

“No. Can I try to shave yours?” he asked, more shyly this time, his eyes darting away as if embarrassed by the question.

“Umm… okay. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to try. You always complain about how tired you are afterward,” he admitted, stepping fully into the room now, the humidity making his hair curl slightly at the ends.

“It’s just that it’s so hot,” you replied, gesturing to the steam-filled room.

“Well, you could stop turning our bathroom into a sauna every time,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t think I can help it,” you joked back, grinning. “It’s more powerful than me, you know.”

Spencer laughed, the sound warming the already steamy atmosphere. 

“Okay, pretty boy. Come on! Get to work,” you encouraged, extending your leg towards him.

He stepped closer, his movements careful and deliberate as he took the razor from your hand.

Spencer sat on the edge of the tub, his hands gentle but firm as he positioned your leg just right. You relaxed into the sensation as he began, his touch precise and attentive. 

His brows furrowed in concentration, and he worked in silence, the only sound the occasional splash of water and the steady scrape of the razor.

When it was time to shave your thighs, you stood up to give him better access. The shift in position brought you closer to him, the heat from the water mingling with the warmth of his presence. 

His hands were steady, guiding the razor with a surprising amount of skill for a first-timer in somebody else’s leg shaving.

Afterward, he rinsed the razor and set it aside, before reaching for a soft cloth to wash the remaining suds from your legs. 

His hands were tender as he helped you rinse off, the water cascading down in rivulets, and you couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. The moment felt intimate, almost sacred, the steam swirling around you both.

When he was done, Spencer wrapped you in a fluffy towel, lifting you out of the tub with a surprising amount of ease.

 You yelped in surprise, then burst into laughter as he carried you across the room, your wet hair dripping onto his shoulder.

He set you down gently and reached for the lotion, his expression serious again. “This part’s important too, right?” he asked, squeezing some into his palm.

“Very,” you confirmed with a smile, watching as he carefully rubbed the lotion into your legs. 

His hands moved slowly, almost reverently, working the lotion into your skin with firm, soothing motions that felt more like a massage than anything else. 

You let out a contented sigh, the tension melting away with each stroke of his hands.

By the time he was finished, your legs felt smooth and soft, and you were more relaxed than you had been in days. Spencer looked up at you, his eyes warm and proud. “How did I do?” he asked.

“Perfect,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Absolutely perfect.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing with pride and affection. “Good. Now, how about we get out of this sauna?”

You chuckled taking his hand as you both stepped out of the steamy bathroom, the cool air of the hallway a welcome contrast to the warmth you’d just left behind.

[clare-875]

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, (even Jinbe or Chopper or Usopp whichever one you would prefer?) Comforts reader who was having a panic attack (like is remembering a dark childhood past or a past toxic relationship or something?) they hug her or hold her hand and telling her that everything would be alright.

We all could use a little comfort in our lives? 🥺

Dark Times (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader Warnings: Toxic/Abusive Relationships, Abusive Childhood, Panic Attack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Female Reader Notes: I hope this is what you had in mind <3 [One Piece Masterlist]

- Luffy - - -

(TW: Abusive Ex-Boyfriend)

You and your crew had finally arrived on a new island and were instantly excited about the prospect of being on solid ground. You had been wandering around with Luffy, who was enraptured in the markets that filled the streets. You could see some of your crewmates in the distance. Sanji bought from food vendors and fell at women's feet, Nami and Robin looked at clothes, and Zoro wondered in the wrong direction; the usual. You let the smile on your face linger, this crew meant everything to you.

"[y/n]!!"

Your gaze turns to your Captain and boyfriend who meets your eyes with a wide grin. He's holding an abundance of foods that you hoped he took the liberty to buy. "Come on, we have to try everything!" A laugh bubbles up within you as you watch him point to another food vendor, beckoning you to join him. His gaze goes from yours to the food, as he sprints a short distance away, and you shake your head going to follow him. However, lost in your thoughts you hadn't been paying attention to where you were walking and coincidentally bumped into a man who hadn't been paying attention either.

You instantly topple, losing your balance but are saved by the steady hands of the person you bumped into. You are about to apologise, but strange dread seeps in as a familiar scent fills your senses.

"Hey, sorry I didn't see you there-"

You hear the man speak, but your hands start to tremble, and suddenly his hands on your forearms feel like fire on your skin. Stop, it isn't him, you're safe. Your mind frantically tries to settle and ground itself, but your lungs contract and your heart beats faster. You gaze upwards meeting eyes with the stranger who now looks at your clear distress in concern.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He lets you go and you feel slightly lighter, but the scent of his collongue still remains and you know nothing can stop the dread. "I-" Your throat tightens, sweat lingering on your skin. Suddenly everything sounds muffled and your vision distorts. You faintly remember pulling away from the confused man, twisting through the many stalls surrounding you. You faintly remember the shapeless voices of people who look at you in confusion, pulling away from worried eyes.

It's all too much. Your breathing harshens.

When you break free of the markets, you slide down a wall of a building, the distant voices of crowding people lost in panic. You can't breathe. All you can think about is him; your ex. He who bought you years of torture. He who hit and cursed and berated you. He who made you feel worthless and terrified of even the dream of leaving. Your hands tremble as you make yourself smaller to keep out his distant words or the remembrance of his harsh touch.

You know that the man who bumped into you bore no resemblance to him, but the familiar scent ignited terror in your system. It was a life you left long ago, but it feels like your past has crept up onto you so suddenly that you were paralysed in trepidation. Hot tears now cascade down your cheeks as you try to frantically remember something as simple as taking in oxygen. Breathe. I can't. Breathe. I can't. I can't. I can't-

"[y/n]?!"

What reaches your muffled ears is the distant voice of the man you loved. He looks at your curled-up and panic-stricken state in shock.

"[y/n], what's wrong? What happened?!"

Luffy doesn't understand what is happening. All he sees is his partner, who had disappeared so suddenly, lost in dread and he didn't know why. No words come to him, but his heart rate quickens at the tears that pour down your face, your trembling hands, the tight grip you have on your arms. He is confused and he is angry. Had someone done something? Are you hurt? Luffy could see clearly your distress, but he needed answers; he needed to do something or know that you were okay.

"[y/n]-"

But you can't reply, you can't wretch yourself free from the panic in your system. "Luff-" You gasp out, and it prompts the raven-haired captain to come closer to you, but he hesitates. He feels his own panic because he doesn't know what's going on. He doesn't know how to help you. "I- I'll go get Chopper-" Luffy's words break through to you, and your trembling hands react before he can pull away.

"N- no, Luffy-"

Your words are masked with an unfamiliar undertone that Luffy scarcely hears from you: fear. Luffy watches you clutch onto his shirt tightly, knuckles white as you try to ground yourself. He doesn't know what is happening, but he sees so clearly now that you need him. So, he does what he always does: he follows his instincts.

Warm arms pull you in so that your head is buried into his chest. He holds you tight and you are provided with the rhythm of his lungs that you try to match. Your heart rate slows briefly, as you take in his scent and his being. Luffy only holds you closer.

"It's okay, [y/n]. I'll protect you. You'll always be safe as long as you're with me."

Luffy might not know what had just happened to you, or what caused you to fall into your current state, but his words were somehow all you needed to hear. Hot tears of relief pour from your eyes as you nod into his chest in acknowledgement. He holds you to him until he's sure you're alright once more. He won't pry but he will listen when you need to talk, he will be there with you even if you don't wish to share your darker past. "You're safe."

He was all you could ever need.

- Sanji - - -

(TW: Emotionally/Physically Abusive Childhood)

Laughter brims as you look at the man who looks back at you fondly. You see Sanji's eyes widen at the sight of your smile aimed at him, and instantly the flush on his face deepens. You gently nudge him with your hip, holding out a hand for the plate he had just washed. "What is it?" You ask as you notice Sanji looking at you for quite some time. He turns to you in wonderment as he replies. "You're just too beautiful, love." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and your smile impossibly widens.

You wonder how you got so lucky as to call a man such as him your own.

You look away shyly as you dry the dish he passed you, repeating the rhythm you both had going. Sanji washing, you drying. Sanji loved the domesticity of it all, and he adored the smile you now try to hide from him even more. His heart beats faster, but the flirty atmosphere is lost when he hears his Captain calling to him. "Oi, Sanji! We need you out here for a second!" There is urgency in his tone, and so Sanji turns from the dishes and gives you a quick smile.

"I'll be right back."

You nod easily before he disappears beyond the door. You decide to continue as you await his return. You reach for another plate in one hand, a cloth in the other. You hum a tune as you go on, but because of your absent-mindedness, you underestimate the concentration necessary to complete your task. As you put down plates and reach for another, you mistakenly lose your grip on the dish in your hand and it slips from your fingers.

In an instant, it’s like your heart stops in your chest.

Your eyes widen, movements freezing as the sound of glass breaking fills the air. You look down, dumbfounded as you eye the mess you made. No. You start to panic. There is a voice in your head telling you that it would be okay, but there is a greater franticity that prevents you from reason. Your hands start to tremble as the sound of glass hitting the floor still echoes in your mind. It takes you back to a past you feel will always haunt you. It’s okay, he’s not like them. You try to convince yourself to breathe but there is no silence in their voices.

“[y/n]!! You little shit, you can’t do anything right!”

“You’re worthless!!”

“Hopeless!!”

“Get out!!”

No, Sanji wouldn’t.

In your state of pure panic, you can now scarcely breathe, the rhythm of your lungs lost in your terror. Your chest squeezes painfully and you find yourself falling to the floor reaching blindly for the glass that is scattered around. It’s a mistake as you feel a faint sting, knowing you’ve cut yourself. It only makes your panic worsen.

He’ll be back soon… He’ll hate me… He’ll yell at me. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t-

You start to lose yourself in the dread and you can no longer keep up with your rapid heart. Your breath comes in short increments and nausea fills you. Your trembling hands pull your legs close as the painful tightness in your throat worsens at every passing moment. Your thoughts are scattered and twisted in your mind. But the past you thought you moved on from had crept up onto you before you even heard the breaking of the glass.

The faces of your parents.

Of a father who didn't know how to love and so took out his rage on you and your mother. Your mother who saw the source of his hatred as you.

"You're a disgrace."

"This is all your fault!"

"I never wanted you for a daughter!"

You start to gasp out and you start to feel lightheaded from the trauma that now reverberates in your mind. Sanji would come back soon, and you couldn't do anything to clean the mess you made or put a bandage on your bloodied fingers.

What will he say? Will he be angry? Will he shout? Will he see just how worthless I am-

“[y/n]?”

You feel your heart jump harshly, cold sweat rising on your skin as you hear the startled voice of your boyfriend who has returned to the kitchen. Your breathing worsens, and your chest is tight with apprehension. You start to mumble incoherently between short breaths, but you refuse to meet his eyes.

"I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it- I’ll fix it-“

Your cries harshen and Sanji's heart clenches against his chest at your state; he knows the feeling.

"L-love, hey, love it's okay. Breathe."

He kneels down in front of you and his eyes widen at the sight of your hands, one of them is still bleeding from when you had tried to pick up the glass in your panic. Your hands still tremble and your lungs still squeeze painfully at the lack of air. You can't hear his words.

"I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry- I'll fix it- I'll be better-"

Sanji feels his own tears well in his eyes as he watches you lost in your mind. He moves before he can help himself. One hand reaches for your hands and he grasps it gently, despite you slightly flinching at the touch. The other hand pushes away hair that has fallen into your tear-stained face, low and hiding from him. His touch is what brings you back; his gentleness. You reach out for his shirt and he takes it as a sign to embrace you.

His hug is warm and comforting and all so familiar. You breathe in his familiar scent and relish the warmth in his skin that allows you to find the rhythm in your breaths once more. You listen to his quietly murmured words like they are all that pull you to the Earth.

"That's it, love. You're safe. You're okay."

As you bury your head deeper into Sanji's chest, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck so you don't see his own tears. How could someone do such a thing to you? The love of his love? The one he swears to protect from everything wrong in the world?

Your breath shudders and long moments pass before you find yourself free of your distraught and able to release your senses to the world again. "Sanji..." Your voice is a murmur but it only makes his heart clench even more. "Thank you." Sanji pulls you closer.

"Of course, love."

- Zoro - - -

(TW: Sexually Abusive, Manipulative Ex-Boyfriend)

You are travelling around the vicinity in search of drinks, not a care in the world. You were getting your boyfriend another bottle from Sanji after he had downed two quicker than you could blink. You smile softly at the thought of him. He was so different from all the men you found yourself with before. Yes, he seemed closed off and distant and quite honestly the last man you would think desired anything in the shape of love, but he had surprised you. Never did you hold even a glimmer of hope that the green-haired swordsman returned your growing feelings, and yet he did. He confessed to you many months ago and the rest was history.

You smile absentmindedly. How did you get so lucky?

Finally shaking free of your thoughts you spot Sanji in the distance, hoarding drinks you know he will willingly give you. You make your way over but are suddenly stopped unexpectedly.

A hand clutches your right arm.

"What-" You stop in surprise at the unfamiliar touch and your eyes travel upwards to the face of a stranger who looks at you in a way that makes you internally shudder. You feel your heart rate quicken, but you force yourself to calm down, glaring at the man in irritation.

"Can I help you?" You ask with a frown, but the stranger doesn't falter. The whole time you feel your chest clench despite your internal thoughts that it would be okay; you were strong, you had dealt with worse. But his reply is what sends you into a sudden spiral.

"You sure can, princess..."

Instantly, your brave facade falters and suddenly, there is untamed panic. Your mind fills with the remembrance of a time you thought you left long ago. You remember his hands, you remember his touch, his stench, his words.

"Come on princess, it'll be quick."

"After all I've done for you, you can't even help me with this princess?"

"Not everything's about you, princess."

You had screamed at him no, you didn't want what he offered you or what he forced you to comply with, and yet he had continued anyway.

His princess; his toy.

No. You wrench free from the man fear twisted on your face and you have no control over your emotions anymore. "N-no!" No no no no no. All you feel is him. You need to get away. Your chest squeezes tightly with the racing of your pulse and oxygen isn't a thing your body can hold anymore. Even the man who had just harassed you looks at you wide-eyed at your reaction but you can't see him. Everything becomes a blur, the very air is suffocating you. You need air. You need safety. You need...

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Zoro had been out of his seat the moment he eyed you in the distance with a man who dared lay hands on your skin. But now as his sharp eyes travel to you - his lifeline, his woman, the strongest person he knew of - crumbling because of this lowlife, he is fuelled with blind rage.

"What did you do?!"

He pushes you behind him, gentle but protective as he eyes the stranger with a wrath that could not be matched. His words are a yell that causes more eyes in your direction, and the shouting and the murmured whispers only make your panic worsen. Your apprehension is too much to bear and you feel the gazes on you like fire on your skin. Whilst Zoro unsheathes a sword you feel yourself shakily sinking to the ground. To your luck and everyone's utter surprise, it is Sanji who spots your obvious distress first and Sanji who gets Zoro to calm enough to see the damage that his brash words cause.

"Oi Marimo!"

He quickly makes his way to the swordsman, eyeing your distress with clear worry. Zoro basically snarls at the cook to get out of the way, but he pauses at his quiet words.

"[y/n]. You need to take [y/n]-san away from here. We'll take care of him. She needs you."

The chef's eyes flicker to your trembling form buried behind Zoro, concern flickering in his irises. Zoro follows the cook's eyes begrudgingly, but his gaze widens at the sight of hot tears running down your cheeks, your chest contracting erratically.

"[y/n]..."

Your eyes are glazed over, and Zoro knows instantly that despite everything, Sanji is right. Zoro turns from an enemy that Sanji all but kicks to oblivion. His hands are gentle as they reach for you but Zoro sees you flinch at the sudden contact. He feels his heart clench harsh against his chest at your reaction. He gently pulls you to your feet and holds you tight against him. He sees your tight grip that holds any fabric of his clothing. Out of the vicinity and into a more private area, he still holds you to him. It takes Zoro aback to see you trembling.

It's heartbreaking.

Finally in the open air, away from the crowds of people that surrounded you before, did you register his warm arms that hold you tightly to him. You hear his heartbeat strong beneath your ear and you try to match the rhythm of his breathing. Your knuckles are white with your grip on his shirt and Zoro doesn't know what else to do but continue holding you until you can breathe again.

"Zoro-"

Your words are barely above a whisper and they rasp in the absence of air just moments before. Zoro can't help but feel the relief that fills his system at seeing your eyes clear of the panic they bore. He gently turns you from his side but he doesn't let you out of his grasp. He pulls you instantly into his chest.

"Z-Zoro?"

Your words are quiet but they are now shrouded in surprise, the lasting tears fall from your eyes as you find yourself buried in his chest. You are shocked at his sudden embrace, but you do not know that it is because Zoro doesn't want you to see the clear pain he fights on his face. There is silence for a long while, but you let the quiet be. It is a nice change from the frantic pace of your dread. It is only when Zoro finds his rage and emotion subsiding enough for him to speak that he does so.

"You're safe with me [y/n]... don't forget that."

His deep voice softly fills your ears and you suddenly feel hot tears pouring from your eyes in relief. You were safe. He would protect you. You bury yourself deeper in his chest and nod.

He holds you tight like he would never let go.

[unlosts]

Hi! I love your work! I saw that you had requests open, so could I request something with Hotch and the reader having to share a room for a case? I'm a sucker for awkward moments and pining so could this be like pre-relationship? And maybe the reader has to ask for a shirt or sweatpants because their own pajamas aren't very appropriate.

Thank you! ❤️ (feel free to ignore it if you don't want to write it)

Thank you for the request!

Word count: Just slightly over 2k.

A/N: MDNI! not super anything but I would feel better lol. Also the ending is me chickening out, but I don't rule out a part 2 either.

“Overbooked?” You ask the concierge in disbelief. 

“I’m afraid so, it means that, unfortunately the hot-” He starts with an apologetic twist of his mouth, but you put a hand up to cut him off, already feeling a migraine beginning to form. 

“I know what it means” You say exasperated. In the short run from the car to the hotel the storm had soaked your clothes making them stick to you uncomfortably, the heat of the lobby doing absolutely nothing to fight back the chill seeping into your bones. 

Your soaking wet duffel bag hangs heavy on your shoulder forming a small ring of water on the red carpet. The people in line behind you huffing in impatience not helping matters at all. 

A drop of water running from the back of your neck through your spine made you shiver uncomfortably. 

The combined feeling of discomfort and exhaustion is making your patience run thin, and the realization that you had no place to sleep tonight was about to bring you to tears in front of the obnoxious family of four right behind you. 

“Don’t you guys have like another hotel or something nearby?” You ask, already knowing the answer by the look of pity the concierge shots you. 

“ma’am I’m sorry but -” 

Before you can cut him off once more you feel a warm palm softly touch your arm, and Hotch appears right by you. Your shoulders drop in relief knowing he’ll fix it. The thought feels silly, It’s not as if Hotch can build you another room but for some reason you’re sure that he’ll find a work around. 

“Is there an issue here?” He asks, his stature and still pristine, and somehow dry, suit more imposing than the drenched racoon look you ended up with. 

“As I was telling her there was a mix up with the reservations and, unfortunately, we don’t have an available room for her” The concierge - Paul - says probably feeling just as relieved as you are to be talking to Hotch. 

“Not here” Paul keeps going before Hotch can ask “nor in any of our other nearby branches. It’s the National Taxidermists Association Convention” He adds with an awkward smile. 

“Did you hear that? I may not have a room but the dead and stuffed deer certainly does” You add unhelpfully. 

“I understand” Hotch says before turning back to you and softly guiding you towards the side  “It’s alright, we’ll just rearrange the rooms” 

“It’s eleven PM, besides Pen said everyone got their own room tonight so it’s not like anyone will have the space” You say petulantly before looking back at him, already apologetic for snapping. 

“I'm sorry, my duffle got ruined because I bought this shitty one instead of my usual so everything's probably soaked, I feel like this shirt is painted on and I'm pretty sure one of the creepy taxidermists was checking me out so I'm honestly not having the greatest night.” 

You were all there for a negotiation seminar, which in hindsight made the fact that a dead squirrel got a room before you more humiliating. 

Hotch only looks at you patiently “it's alright” he repeated, briefly touching your shoulder “We can just share my room” 

Suddenly self conscious, the last thing you wanted was to put him out when all he probably wanted to do was talk to Jack and pass out, alone, in his own room. But he must have read it on your face because before you could make up an excuse he picks up your go bag and adds “It would make me feel better knowing you're near by and not in some motel, especially tonight.” 

As if to back him up, thunder suddenly struck, loud and impossible to ignore. 

“Okay,” you agree, going for the elevator “but you're not taking the couch” 

“Am I that transparent?” He asks as you both wait for the doors to open, along with some of the other guests and their suspiciously big suitcases. You try really hard not think of what's in them. 

“Sorry, it's the whole Connecticut WASPy manners thing, you’d probably rather get a creek on your neck sleeping on the floor just because it's more polite” You say with a shrug of your shoulder. 

Before he could reply the doors opening, everyone flooding in making you press your back against Hotch, his arm went to your waist to keep you steady after a man not much older than you almost rolled his suitcase over your feet. 

The heat of him behind you and his hand on your front made your stomach clench, it took all of your willpower not to lean back, the thought of him pressing up against you makes your eyes close briefly, his chest almost touching your back with every breath.

It feels like hours pass before you can step into the hallway keenly aware of Hotch just a step behind you. 

Stepping into the room the first thing you notice is the queen sized bed, the plush  hotel comforter drawing you in. You discard your shoes somewhere by the closet, uncaring of where they land.

“You can take the first shower” Hotch says, entering leaving both of your bags by the door “better warm up before you catch a cold” The thought feels entirely caring and entirely Hotch but the suggestion brings a more pressing issue to the front of your mind.

“um” you say, widening your eyes at the realization that you have nothing to wear “everything I have is soaked, like fresh out the washer before the dryer kind of soaked, you don't happen to have a spare set of pj's in there do you?” 

He doesn't reply, just goes over to his bag and hands you a small pile of clothing “you go ahead, I'll go down with your clothes and see if laundry service is still open, wouldn't want you showing up tomorrow in a hotel bathrobe” he says with a smile and before you can protest he's off with your duffle bag. Leaving you alone with this uncomfortable feeling in your chest. 

Once inside the bathroom you go through the clothing, the first thing you pick up from the pile is a threadbare dark blue GWU sweatshirt, soft in a way only a well loved item can be, and you can't help but take the collar up to your nose and taking in the fresh laundry smell and the remnants of his cologne still lingering in the fabric.

By the time you come out, swimming in his sweatshirt and a pair of too long sweatpants, toweling your hair, Hotch is back sans your bag, laying back in bed on the side closest to the door. Surfing through static after static channel on the TV, his head pillowed on the back of his arm. 

“There goes movie night, I guess” you joke walking over to the bed “which side of the bed do you want”

Without getting up he says “this one’s fine” 

At that you snort “that's such a guy thing” 

“Sorry?” 

“The whole sleeping next to the door in case someone comes in” 

“You say that now but by the time a guy in a deer mask comes through the door you'll be glad I picked it” 

“well how chivalrous of you” You smile at him leaning on the bathroom door. 

He smiles back lopsided and a little boyish, his dimples peeking through “It’s those pesky WASP manners rearing their head.”

Hotch looks back at you for a moment from his side of the bed “I hope the shirt is comfortable”

“It’s great, thanks” 

He clears his throat “It suits you”

Warmth spreads from the tips of your fingers all the way up your chest where a pleasant weight settles. 

You sit criss crossed next him to change the channel to something watchable before your mouth wins over your brain and you say something stupid. As you reach over him, fishing for the remote on the nightstand you miscalculate and your hand slips on the bed sheets, toppling you over on top of him, leaving you nose to nose. Close enough to count his eyelashes. 

You quickly sit back up but upon your haste you both move up at the same time, falling back into him as your hands find purchase in his chest. You feel the rise and fall of every breath he takes, the thrum of his heart matching yours. Your eyes lock again as his hands circle your waist to keep from falling from the bed and into the floor. 

“Shit” You whisper “I’m so sorry Hotch” But it’s hard to be when you’re encased in his arms, feeling the muscle of his chest underneath your fingertips as his big, calloused hands burn a mark on your back. 

“It’s alright” He says in a tone matching your own. 

With his help you sit back up and he hands you the remote you were looking for. Tucking an errand strand of hair behind your ear you put on a random channel. 

A black and white movie plays on in the background as you look at him, the faint glow from the TV casting moving shadows across his face, suddenly highlighting his strong brow or straight nose. 

Your breathing matches his, suddenly the low light of the bedside lamp reminds you of candlelight, a gossamer filter cast over you. 

As you’re about to speak, not really knowing what you were actually going to say he breaks the silence first  by standing up and heading to the bathroom to shower.  

It feels impossible to know Hotch, what he’s thinking or feeling, you want to unspool his thoughts, display them out like a film reel for your viewing pleasure. Know him as intimately as you sometimes feel he knows you. 

You’re  settled back in bed, still lost in thought, by the time the water cuts off he comes out in plaid blue pants and a white t-shirt smelling like soap  fresh laundry. His hair still damp and shirt collar askew like he dressed in a hurry. 

Hesitating for a few seconds before peeling back the covers and getting in, his body heat right next to you, a contrast against your cold skill, the cold never having left you. Immediately making you shiver despite the thicker sweatshirt. 

Hotch clears his throat again, more out of embarrassment from what he’s about to do, and it’s odd to see him like this. You’re used to seeing him be sure of himself, unflinching in the face of murderers, government officials and incensed police captains alike. 

It’s an alien feeling seeing him blush, or hesitate before speaking, it only serves to deepen your fondness for him, it makes you want to lean in and press a kiss against his heated cheek. 

He opens his arm in a silent invitation, you curl yourself sideways against him, your cold nose pressing against his neck as his warm hands trail up and down your back in what began an attempt to warm you back up. The lazy movement up and down meant to lull you to sleep, is instead sending shivers down your spine. 

“Better?” Hotch asks. 

“Much, thank you” You reply, resting your ear against his chest. 

You don’t say anything else but let your hand trail up his stomach, feel the muscles softly clench underneath your hand before letting it rest there and look up to see his eyes closed and his lips parted. As if he could feel your gaze on him he opens his eyes still panting. 

Hotch looks at you with a questioning gaze, the certainty in yours seeming like the only answer he needs. 

His hand is a gentle weight on the back of your neck draws you in until your nose to nose, lips a breath away from touching. His thumb caresses your cheekbone back and forth, clouding your senses until you have tunnel vision, the room fades away and all you can see is him. You nose trails his for a moment as your forehead presses together, your hand coming up to touch his jaw. 

“We shouldn’t ” He says, breath fanning against your lips while his eyes close briefly. 

“No, we should not” You reply, but neither make a move to part. 

“What should we do then?” 

“You should tell me goodnight” 

“Goodnight, then” He says and his deep voice reverberates under your hand still perched on his chest. You lean down and leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth as his breath stutters. 

Before you can pull off of him his hand draws you back in finally kissing you. Time stops existing right then, the kiss is hungry but unhurried, Hotch is patient and tender as he rolls you over resting your head against his forearm.

Your breathing's labored as you part “See now we really should go to sleep”  You say breathlessly, chest heaving up and down. 

“We absolutely should,” He says teasingly. 

[ladydostoevsky]

Idk of request are still opens, but if no you can just ignore this haha.

Sooo can you do an escenario of hua cheng x male!reader x xie lian where the reader was the best friend of xie lian before xian le fell and like with the power of character backstory they knew hua cheng aswell.

That was like the context, but my request is like:

After the 800 years of previous events, xie lian, hua cheng and the reader meet again at the banyue arc(with xie lian meeting hua cheng fisrt ofc) and when they saw the reader (who ill suppose died by saving xie lian from something and u know, ✨️drama✨️) they can't belive it cus his soul should have been banished and welp. After the end of the thing (timeskip) when the reader tries to leave after helping em' with the mission, both xie lian and hua chen stop him from doing so. But why did M/N tried to leave as fast as possible? Hoho, well let's say he accidentaly inhaled a flowers scent wich had an strong afrodasic and didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of his dearest friends and tried to leave (failling miserably) and we all know both of our bois are so fricking touch starved at this point and here is where the smut makes it's presentation. (idk much about that so u can just wite it however you'd like, but reader should be the bottom oh yes hahah)

ik its a large request so if its too much just ignore me haha 😭.

A tender touch🌺

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng x m!reader

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, novel and donghua spoilers, little bit violence, breeding, m!sex

A/N: I’m not the best when it comes to smut, especially when it’s threesome so warning, this is really cringe🥲 but I hope you like it

The floor of the temple was icy, freezing, just like the atmosphere which surrounded them. Fear seeped through y/n, who was kneeling on the cold ground, before the altar of a temple on which Xie Lian was chained on. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of the creature, the monster with white half crying-smiling mask or this thing hurting Xie Lian - his prince, his best friend, his beloved. The latter. In his hand, was the little ghostfire who tried to keep them out of the temple and warn them. y/n felt pity for it.

He bowed down, his forehead touching the ground. ���’Please. I beg you. Take me. Have mercy on His Highness. Whatever you plan to do, please take me instead of him.’’ y/n straightened himself a little and looked with teary eyes towards the white clothed creature, pleading, ‘’I beg you… punish me for whatever he has done,’’ he whispered desperately. ‘’Y/N! STOP IT! I FORBID YOU TO SAY ANOTHER WORD. YOU WILL NOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF FOR ME!’’ Xie Lian screamed. The creature laughed out loud, slowly moving towards yn, like a predator. ‘’DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM, YOU FUCKER. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS.’’ The Crown Prince screamed but to no avail, the creature ignored him. y/n gulped as he got closer. ‘’My my, are you a brave one,’’ he stopped right in front of him and crouched down to be on the same eye level, the little ghost still in his hand, ‘’and so stupid. Willing to give your life for someone else's sins and choices.’’

y/n eyes widened slightly after the realization. He whispered to the mask in front of him, ‘’kill me instead then.’’ The little fire started to glow even more, little sounds coming from it. ‘’Oh I will. Let’s see what face His Highness will make after it.’’ The next second Fang Xin pierced through y/n.

y/n looked at the ground, in shame and sadness. He didn’t dare to look His Highness in the eyes, or even San Lang, who he knew was actually Hua Cheng. ‘’I don’t understand…how?’’ The Crown Prince was in shock, in disbelief. Xie Lian saw his best friend being killed in front of his eyes by White No-Face. Same as Xie Lian, Hua Cheng felt some kind of betrayal and hurt, he - being a little pitiful and weak ghostfire - also was in that temple and saw everything. If he really somehow survived, why didn’t he come looking for His Highness? It has been 800 years…

‘’Tell me, how are you here? What happened to you?’’ Xie Lian asked, his earlier shock turning into a sadness. y/n looked at San Lang then Xie Lian. ‘’Did you really think he would have let me die? That easily? My life was worse than hell, a constant torture after that night.’’ He looked away from them, towards the darkness of the cave. All hidden and locked up memories coming back to him. ‘’He did that only to torment and manipulate you. And me.’’ Xie Lian let out a sight he realized he was holding. Hua Cheng’s eyes were full of sorrow. They looked at each other then back to y/n.

He looked at Xie Lian, ‘’I’m sorry, Your Highness. After that, I didn’t dare to show my face anymore. Not like the monster would have let me. I was afraid. I hated myself for I couldn’t save you in the end. I blame myself till this day. You had to go through so much because I was too weak to protect you.’’ Hua Cheng’s dead heart warmed in that moment. After all, he felt the exact same way. He blamed himself for not protecting the two when they needed it the most. But he is here now, and he will protect them for eternity, from now on.

‘’Can you forgive me, Your Highness? I understand if you don’t want to or-’’ Xie Lian gave a sad smile and moved closer to y/n. ‘’There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. It was never your fault, it was White No-Face who did this. I just wish you hadn't been there. I’m sorry you had to go through this, because of me.’’ The prince leaned closer and hugged his former friend. It took the man by surprise but gladly accepted it. The warmth of his best friend being so foreign to him. He locked eyes with San Lang who looked at him with sadness. y/n gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, for which the Ghost King smiled back.

After that the three stuck together the whole mission. y/n and San Lang got to know each other more, surprisingly they clicked immediately. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian still didn’t know how y/n survived that night. He wasn’t a god, neither a ghost so what was he? But they understood that it was not their business if y/n didn’t want to tell them.

Currently, everyone was looking for the Banyue Fern to use as an antidote for the scorpion-tailed snake’s venom. Unfortunately, y/n had strayed too far from the others. He realized it when he found flowers that shouldn’t be growing in a desert. They were bright, colorful and smelled so nicely. They were tempting. They were so very familiar…

NO! The land of the tender! They were the tender flowers that contained strong aphrodisiacs. The moment he realized he backed off. Thank the heavens that these flowers didn’t speak or he would have surely done something he couldn’t even imagine. He ran back to the others, hoping that the aphrodisiac didn’t make it to his system.

After all the hell was over and the mission completed, Earth Master Ming Yi and Wind Master Shi Qingxuan came to take Pei Xiu back to heaven realm. The gods exchanged a few words. Beside Hua Cheng, y/n felt ill. His body temperature had risen after the tender flowers. He was sweating and his knees felt weak. He holds one hand in front of his lower face to hide his reddened face and to seal his mouth. Hua Cheng turned to him, concerned, ‘’y/n? Is everything alright? You seem… sick.’’ Only thing he could do was nod his head and turn away from him.

With every passing second he could feel more sweat forming on his skin, he wanted to let out sounds he thought he could never form. He felt a painful pulsing between his legs. Seeing Xie Lian and Hua Cheng next to him didn’t help, it made it all worse. Slowly, he started to back off but Hua Cheng grabbed his forearm before he could escape. Xie Lian walked over to them. ‘’y/n, what’s wrong?’’ He walked to him and put his palm on his forehead to feel his temperature. ‘’You are burning! You must have a fewer.’’ Feeling his prince’s touch he put his hand over his mouth even harder. He let out weird noises that neither of the two understood. y/n shook his head. ‘’Gege, we have to get him somewhere else. I don’t think it’s sickness.’’

The two brought y/n to an old empty house of Banyue. They put him on the floor, making him sit against a wall. Only sound that was heard was y/n’s constant breathing. With shaky hands he tried to open his robe. ‘’Y-you two… you h-have to leave.’’ Xie Lian was first to react. He crouched down in front of him, ‘’we will not. Tell us what happened?’’

He helped y/n and tore the robe’s front open so he could get some cold air. His fingers brushed against y/n’s hot skin which made him let out a little whine. Xie Lian’s breath stuck, but he didn’t back off. ‘’T-the flowers, t-tender…’’ the arousal he felt made it hard to talk. San Lang came next to Xie Lian and put his hand on y/n’s chest, feeling his fast heartbeat. y/n wrapped his fingers around San Lang’s wrist, not wanting him to pull away.

‘’That’s what I thought,’’ Hua Cheng whispered, mostly to himself. ‘’Please…’’ y/n’s other hand made it to his hard erection. His hand was quickly replaced with Xie Lian’s, ‘’you helped us today so well, it’s only fair if we help you now.’’ The prince and the Ghost King gave a knowing smile to each other. Hua Cheng tore the whole robe to shreds, freeing the whole body beneath it free to the cold air of Banyue. Xie Lian leaned in and kissed his old friend, his- no- their beloved.

His tongue taking the lead and exploring every corner he could find. His fingers ran delicately over y/n soft pink nipples. The man didn’t see the point to hold back anymore and let out all the sounds that were stuck in his throat. Hua Cheng also leaned closer and wrapped his fingers around y/n’s precum leaking cock. He slightly pressed on to the pink tip which made y/n whine against Xie Lian’s mouth.

‘’Don’t worry, love. We will take good care of you,’’ whispered Hua Cheng. Xie Lian leaned back, a string of saliva connecting the two. ‘’Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, y/n?’’ Xie Lian said while taking off his white robe. Hua Cheng followed and his red clothing was thrown somewhere he could care less. This time Xie Lian took y/n's pulsing cock and started slowly moving his hand up and down. San Lang latched his mouth onto y/n’s sensitive nipple, kissing and teasing it. y/n moaned their names, feeling himself nearing. ‘’X-Xie Lian…nghh San L-Lang, I’m g-gonna cum.’’ Xie Lian’s other hand played with y/n’s smooth hair, ’’cum for us, dear.’’ He came without a second thought.

The Crown Prince gave him a sweet, loving smile, pecked his darling’s soft lips and started moving towards his abdomen, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He took all of y/n in his mouth, swallowing his cum in the process. With his experience in sword swallowing in the past it wasn’t very hard. He had no gag reflex.

While Xie Lian was busy with y/n’s cock, San Lang used his own precum and saliva as a lube and smeared it on his own hard cock. y/n felt his second orgasm coming. In ecstasy he grabbed Xie Lian’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. ‘’Y-your Highness…mm,’’ The prince started to run his fingers gently across y/n’s body. Being so hot, bothered and sensitive, this act threw him over the edge again and he came deep into Xie Lian’s mouth. ‘’Xie Lian…’’ he breathed out a whisper, barely hearable. ‘’Such a good boy, aren’t you? So good for us,’’ Hua Cheng teased with his low voice. The man beneath let out a desperate whine, knowing what’s coming next. The black haired king leaned closer, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead and lips. ‘’I’ll try to be gentle.’’ Xie Lian went to y/n’s neck and started to suck marks into his skin.

San Lang positioned himself in front of y/n’s unprepared entrance and slowly entered. Feeling soft and thigh walls around him he let out a grunt, entering inch by inch. y/n let out loud cries from the pain. Tears started to drip down from the corners of his eyes. Xie Lian shushed him, assuring that everything was alright. He kissed the tears away and started to abuse his mouth with his tongue again. When Hua Cheng was finally all in, and confirmed that y/n wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, he started moving his hips. At the beginning it was slow and gentle, as time went by he started to speed up. Rocking in and out like an animal in heat.

He pulled y/n’s legs more towards him to hit that one spot that surely made his darling lose it. y/n grabbed onto Xie Lian to steady himself. ‘’Gods y/n…’’ San Lang moaned, feeling his peak coming. He pressed y/n into a mating position, to look him into his beautiful tear stained eyes while he cums deep into his gore. y/n screamed, feeling overstimulated. ‘’S-San L-Lang… p-please,’’ with a few more pumps he came inside.

After a few moments he pulled out, panting. Feeling himself coming down from his high. He watched how some of his seed tried to come out of y/n. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, smiling, feeling some kind of pride. ‘’You are so beautiful like this. Now my beloved…’’ Xie Lian moved away from his side and placed himself on top of y/n. He already knew that it was going to be a long night.

[actual-changeling]

"It would have been you."

It's raining.

Of course, it's raining.

A soft, constant drizzle leaving his hair a damp, curly mess that falls into his face and clings to his skin. Even though the cold is slowly seeping into his clothes, Crowley stops and turns around. Condensation is collecting on the inside of his shades where his breath drifts up, warm and too fast, and even if it hadn't been late at night, if the street hadn't been empty, he would have still taken them off.

Aziraphale is licking rain drops from his lips and blinking with dark, heavy lashes.

"What?"

His voice is rough, almost drowned out by the noise of rain hitting the pavement, collecting in small puddles around his feet.

"If it had been a choice, a real one, it would have been you."

The world did not end, questions were answered, apologies spoken, but their last conversation before everything went to shit is still a sharp splinter lodged in his chest, cutting him open more and more with every heartbeat. All of the fears he had left unsaid, the viscous doubt pooling in his lungs and weighing down his breaths—the truth might tip the scales and finally destroy him, and yet he cannot bring himself to stop Aziraphale from talking.

"It has always been you, Crowley. You must know that."

"I don't."

Bitterness laces his voice despite his best intentions, a drop of oil tainting an entire river, six thousand years of history, and it hurts because it's the truth, because they both wish it wasn't.

He doesn't know, couldn't know, because Aziraphale always needed him to stop them, to step back when they got too close. Every single time he had tried to push, gone too bloody fast, the angel had recoiled, scared for him, scared for the both of them. Crowley knows, and at the same time, he doesn't, because he still has hope and there is nothing more dangerous than allowing it to bloom; it's small, withered, brittle, on the verge of death and has been for centuries.

(It's still there, though. It keeps fighting, keeps trying. Keeps hoping.)

They're drenched to the bone, wet and pathetic, and there is nothing romantic about any of it when Aziraphale retraces his steps and closes the distance between them; there is, however, love.

There has always been love, whether they could admit it or not.

"I'm sorry. For- for everything, for making you think that I don't care about you."

"Angel, don't lie-"

"I'm not lying."

Crowley stares, frozen to the spot when Aziraphale presses cold, wet palms to his cheeks, his breath a ghost of warmth on his skin. This is too much, too close to 'our side', and if he didn't know better (does he know better? does he really?) he would think that he is about to—

"I'm not lying," he whispers, broken, truthful, "I love you. I won't leave you."

The rain stings in his eyes, masking the tears—hot and wistful—meeting Aziraphale's skin where it is touching his.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, angel."

His voice cracks and so does his heart, and he can feel the walls they have built together crumbling to dust under their feet. It's not real, it can't be real, and yet the truth is shimmering in storm-blue eyes he has been carrying with him since the moment he first put stars into the sky.

"It's you, always has been, always will be. If you let me."

Crowley kisses him as he falls apart, barely healed fractures reopening as his essence spills over and out, drowning him in please, please be real, please let us have this, please, God.

Just this once.

Aziraphale holds his face so incredibly gently, as if it's something worth keeping, something to protect, something he is afraid to lose. When the ground doesn't open up and swallow them whole, when the sky doesn't reach for them with greedy hands, he allows himself to seize Aziraphale's face in turn, cupping his jaw and kissing the rain drops off his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, tasting his tears when they begin to fall.

"It's always been you. God, of course I will let you."

Sapphire blue eyes blink up at him, a smile pressed against his lips, a smile he can feel, a smile that is for him, them.

"Perhaps you could let me somewhere less, ah, sopping wet?"

"I was right, though. It's the rain that did it."

Aziraphale laughs, bright and happy, and infectious enough to make Crowley laugh too, and grabs his hand to pull him back towards the bookshop - back home.

[inkskinned]

i had a dream last night that i had been born the right way, that i had no trouble listening and made friends easily and straightened my hair and dated only ben from highschool until i got married to him. that our ring was gold even though silver is my color and i don't support diamonds

i had a dream that i hadn't ever been ugly or weird, that we'd had enough money to actually afford the clothes everyone was wearing and in eighth grade i actually twisted my ankle in ugg boots. that all my memories were now diagonally drawn across the river i should have been raised from -

we walked down boston in the chill and i kept talking about how lucky i was to have a wonderful husband and how my father's love poured over our relationship in evergreen gin - i swear sometimes i think he prefers ben - and all the girls that bullied me were now my beautiful friends with husbands and lives of their own, spun out in gold and rhinestones

i had a dream that i hadn't been made wrong, that god had treated me gently, that the hole that opened in me hadn't seeped into everything, staining all of my fingers in chaos and lightning. i had a dream i didn't know secrets about sharp things or how deep the hole goes or how hard someone can hit rock bottom, the snap of the bone.

i had a dream i kept twisting the ring and turning to my oldest friend, who was frowning. barely looking at me. i had a dream i got straight a's and went to a different college but it meant we lost touch after it. she wasn't the same here - strange, unloving, chilly. something is wrong, i kept saying. we were just out for boba tea. my hair was long and pretty and i'd never dyed it enough to turn it frizzy. something is wrong and i think it's with me.

in this world, i still went to church. in this world, i had never been abandoned. in this world, i had never disappointed my parents. in this world, neither she nor i ever kissed girls and meant it. she hadn't met her wife. in this world, nothing ever needed fixing. i didn't ruin things compulsively.

is it worth it? she said, watching me. is it worth it, everything that's missing?

[victoria-grimesss]

Hi! Can I please request hcs for Halsin and Astarion with plus size gn!reader who is self concious about their size (and are extremely anxious about clothes and food if thats not too much)? Completely understand if no, feel free to ignore 💚 Thanks!

Astarion & Halsin with a PlusSize!Reader (GN)

masterlist

->A/N: This turned out to be more of a Drabble and less of HC’s oops.

————

->Halsin:

Once you two are in an established relationship he would be tuned to your feelings and notice when your mood shifts and sours.

He would notice you paying more attention to your clothing and what you eat, at first he would be alarmed, not taking it lightly that you would restrict your meals. “My flower, our travels take us long and far, please let me know what ails you so I may see you well again.”

When the tears come to your eyes and your hands shake with your heightened nerves he would grow even more alarmed.

You would tell him all of your worries, and how they plague your mind day and night.

He would silence, your worry growing with each second of silence before his gentle reassurance graces your ears.

“You are beautiful to me, from sunrise to sunset I only think of you, your beauty ellipses all else and I’m sorry these thoughts make you think of yourself any other way. I have traveled and seen things far and wide, but you; you are nature's greatest gift to me, to the world. If I could manifest these terrible thoughts from your head and slay them myself I would for you. But know, you are beautiful as you are, I would ask for you no differently.

“I will help you work through these thoughts, no matter how long it takes.”

Your eyes are glossy, his sincerity seeping to your bones, “And what if it takes quite a while to quiet my racing mind?”

“My flower, you forget I am a Druid, I have lived a lifetime already and for you I would live a thousand more just to see you happy.”

->Astarion:

To speak plainly, Astarion is vain. He cannot see himself but he knows he is an attractive man that much is clear.

He would find you no different than anyone else, besides the fact that he loves you more than anyone else at this camp. And it turn, you would get to hear all of his daily complaints about the other companions.

He would come to you to complain when he would stop and notice you’re not listening at all. “Darling, you know it is rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” He would be teasing but the words would flow over you like the wind.

The mirror by his tent had your attention, you glare at your reflection, your thoughts racing with the shadows of doubt.

“My sweet?” His hand touches your shoulder and it brakes the trance.

“Do you like how I look? Am I what you want?”

His heart would break at your voice, “Is that why you’re eating less? And here I thought the parasite was messing with you.” He means to lighten the mood but when you show no change he clears his throat.

“Of course I like how you look, I love it. Gods to be honest your the first person that I love everything about. It’s odd to love someone so strongly, I resisted it for a while, scared I’d lose you but I couldn't be without you or see you with another.

“You could have anyone”

“I could, but I only want you, as you want me. I will love you until I turn to dust and even then in the next life I believe I will love you. No matter how you look.”

He can be awfully sweet and poetic when he wants, almost makes your teeth hurt sometimes.

[mustainegf]

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 & 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁴

Mid December 1984, the snow was everywhere on the ground in a neat layer of white, the streets silent save for the crunch of snow beneath one's feet, the spontaneous buzz of a car passing by. Soft light from street lamps above warmed the snow, which made it glisten like a million small diamonds.

It was a faultless winter night, and I sat at the window of the living room, enraptured by the beauty of it all. In the glass reflected behind me now was my best friend, James Hetfield. He was also clothed in his most characteristic outfit, his pair of beat up sneakers and a leather jacket, but he added a white scarf to his ensemble today. I couldn't help myself, this guy looked adorable. The scarf suited him so out of character but in such a charming way.

"Hey," he said, very softly, breaking into the silence. "You want to take a little walk? Enjoy the snow a bit?"

I turned toward him, my heart did a little flutter. James wasn't much for things like this. "Really? You want to go on a walk with me?"

He grinned, his cheeks already pink. "Yeah, why not? I know you love the snow."

I took my coat and gloves, barely containing myself. "Okay, let's go then."

Stepping outside, I felt the cold air nip at my cheeks and ears, but that didn't matter. The crunch of the snow under our feet down the street was the only sound in the night's stillness. There were long shadows from the street lamps, and the world seemed all our own.

James walked beside me, his leather jacket doing little to keep out the cold, yet he seemed not to mind. He looked around him at the snow covered world. I couldn't stop catching glimpses at him, the way his breath showed up misty in the air, his frizzy blonde mane blowing just gently in the faint breeze.

"You're pretty cute in your winter getup," I said, nudging him playfully.

He chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah... Don't get used to it."

I smiled and I rubbed my hands together, trying to keep them warm, but the chill was starting to seep through my skin.

James noticed and reached out, taking my hand in his. The touch sent warmth shooting through me and up my fingertips, his fingers cold to the touch. "Here, let me help," he said, his cheeks flushing even a deeper scarlet.

My face flushed, my heart hammering away in my chest. "Thanks, James."

We walked hand in hand. It felt like a dream, too perfect, too real. Eventually, we came across a quiet field of snow. The snow lay undisturbed, a perfect canvas of white.

"Look at that," I said, my eyes wide. "It's beautiful."

James smiled, squeezing my hand gently. "Yeah... Yeah, it is."

A thought crossed my mind, and I just couldn't help a very naughty grin. "Let's make snow angels!"

He quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused with my playful request. "Snow angels? Really?"

"Come on, it'll be fun!" I tugged at his hand, pulling him toward the field.

He chuckled, letting me pull him along. "Alright, alright, snow angels it is."

I let go of his hand and moved to lie down in the thick, fluffy snow, but before I could, James tackled me playfully, sending us both tumbling into the snow. We rolled about, laughing and trying to push each other into the snow as white dust flung in the air around us, like frozen ocean waves.

"James, you're going to get us both soaked!" I squealed, trying to fend him off.

He just grinned. "That's the point!"

Eventually, we slowed down and became breathless from the heavy laughs as James finally let up on me. James ended up hovering above me, his face was just mere inches from mine. His warm breath warded off the cold skin, and for a second, everything seemed to pause. Freeze, if you will.

He went pink, smiling sheepishly as he reached forward with cold fingers to gently wipe some snow from my face. "You have snow on your face," he said softly. He was so bashful, it was adorable.

I giggled, my cheeks hot despite the cold. "Thanks."

Our eyes met, and whatever playfulness there was in the air changed to something much much softer. I felt that he was unsure, and I was too. Then before I overthought it, he leaned in and kissed me.

Our lips met for the very first time.

It was soft, full of what had not been said to each other, a passionate silence of many years. My heart flew out of my chest, and I felt weightless, he tasted so good, so sweet. When at last we pulled away, we both giggled, then rested our foreheads against each other's.

"I really like you," I said, hardly above a whisper.

James smiled, eyes soft and watery. "I really like you too."

We just lay there a second, staring into each other's eyes, before James shivered. "My ass is wet and cold. Let's go home and cuddle where it's warm."

I laughed at his adorable and blatant response, nodding in agreement. "Good idea."

We picked ourselves up and dusted our clothes off, still grinning like idiots. The house we shared with his bandmates was a short walk from here, so we walked hand in hand back toward that.

Warmth greeted us inside, much to our liking, and we sloughed our clothes right there on the floor beside the door, leaving our wet things in a heap. We dressed in comfy and most importantly, warm, clothes, my body adorning one of his baggy misfits shirts.

James grabbed a couple of blankets and led me to the couch. We huddled under the blankets, snuggling up next to each other. I could still feel the embers of his kiss on my lips, and his arms around me made me feel safer than ever before.

"This is... mm, nice," I murmured against his shoulder.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, satisfied.

We just sat there in silence, and I played back in my head what happened tonight. It felt very dreamlike, but the warmth of James's body let me know it was real. I couldn't believe I had him in my life, not just as my best friend, but as something more.

"James?" I said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" he replied, his fingers gently running through my hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just... Thank you..."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

It was perfect, I wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world.

As I started to drift off to sleep, James brought me back with his voice. "Hey," he said softly.

"Yeah?" I replied back with half closed eyes and a slow heart.

"I love you."

My heart skipped, and I snuggled further into his chest. "I love you too, James."

He smiled, exhaling very slowly, as if he hadn't taken a breath for minutes. "Good night."

"Good night," I whispered, kissing his chest, the surface which I lay on.

I fell asleep, but I couldn't help but smile as I knew this was surely something beautiful.

[argisthebulwark]

A Feast for My Eyes Only

summary: Small things that I believe would turn on some of our favorite Skyrim guys. gn reader, no y/n or pronouns used. featuring: Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf, Vilkas, Balimund, Mercer, Teldryn warnings: Sexually suggestive content, minors do not read or interact. tagging @daedrabait because once again i am mercerposting

Miraak claims to be unaffected by mortal temptations until he meets you. When he witnesses how naturally you control the Thu’um and he feels the ancient power that resides deep within you. It is when you have him pinned, blade at his throat and eyes brimming with determination that his blood heats. He's never seen such beauty. Apocrypha crumbles at your voice, hand twisted into his robes to hinder any chance of escape when he dives in for the first kiss, unable to contain himself any longer.

Farkas is a sucker for your touch. Something as simple as you brushing hair out of his face or aiding in the placement of his armor is enough, he loves being able to touch you. After a long day he leaves Jorrvaskr behind to return home at your side. Farkas wants nothing more than to sink into a warm bath together, no armor in the way of allowing him to appreciate each inch of your body. He loves the way his hands look on your skin and the way your fingers trace along his scars, every small touch fueling the fire in his heart.

Brynjolf has become rather addicted to watching you work. When you skulk through a wealthy neighborhood in search of all their easily forgotten baubles and he struggles to track you his blood starts pumping. He follows you upstairs into some nobleman’s lavishly decorated chambers, stealth forgotten in his bid to spread you out on that ridiculously expensive bedding. He wants to make you writhe, to hear you moan until the neighbors know just how exquisite he alone can make you feel. 

Vilkas finds it extremely difficult to maintain composure when you are demanding. When you command that he rests he is entirely at your whim. He is thrilled by your hands on his chest shoving him into bed, your body straddling his, the bliss of someone else in complete control of him. He’d never admit it to anyone else but he would beg for just one more taste of you. He gazes at you, knowing that he made the right choice loving the one person who brings him to his knees.

For Balimund, he finds that he is most undone by you when you are free from all the titles and duties. When you are wearing his shirt and lounging together. He finds you the most alluring when you are warm and cozy, wrapped around him without a worry in the world. He cannot keep his hands to himself when you are relaxed in his bed, everything forgotten but one another. When your skin is warm against his, hands sliding easily under loose clothes and sheets twisted around your bodies.

Despite his many secrets, Mercer seems to get a thrill out of the danger of being caught. Whether you’re spread over the messy desk he treasures or against the Vault’s chilly metal doors he loves to hear you moaning his name, each sound echoing through the Cistern. It's like he's daring one of the thieves to notice, blood heating each time someone mentions the marks you've left on him.

Teldryn has always enjoyed your banter but found himself head over heels when the mutual flirtation began to seep in. It is only when you cut the innuendo and lay it all out that he feels himself at a loss for words, when you tell him how badly you desire him and every impure thought that’s plagued your mind. He loves the way you speak to him, how vulnerable you are when it's just the two of you.

[hannie-dul-set]

could you do loud sungchan who gets quiet and shy around quiet and cool y/n please 🙏

[blizzard]. there is a storm in korean language department.

“midterms over! guess who’s throwing a party this friday?”

the storm’s name is jung sungchan.

“hey, man! see you!” he high fives with one of his peers, greeting them one after another like a hurricane sweeping everything along the path into his relentless torrent. “mrs. kang! wanna join too?”

loud and outgoing, friends with everyone, jung sungchan. from day one, he’s made a mark on the walls for skateboarding and crashing into the lecture hall— a literal mark, because the scratches his stunt left on the tiles are still there. the fact that he wreaks havoc in his wake is very fitting for the metaphor.

“that guy was talking shit about you the other day. why did you ask him to come?” one of his friends questions. sungchan simply shrugs and continues his series of thirst-second small talks with everyone he passes by in the hallway.

“you’re invited! and you’re invited! and you’re invi—” 

that is, until something puts the storm to a halt.

“invi...invited...”

someone, rather. there’s only one person that can silence jung sungchan— catch him voiceless and stuttering, demoted to a mere drizzle by their mere presence. his eyes widen and he stops dead in his tracks, nearly stumbling over, like the sky clearing after a sudden downpour. the calm after the storm.

and that person is you. 

“uhm,” he starts, eyes averted, pulling down his collar with a swallow to let some air in. “i have a party this friday. would you— would you like to come?” 

when you don’t reply immediately, your silence and blinking eyes filling the air, sungchan feels his airways clog and head going dizzy. “oh,” you simply say. he can’t feel the muscles on his face.

“it’s— it’s not a birthday party or anything, no, it’s just to celebrate the end of our midterms and—”

“yeah, i heard you,” you cut him off. “i’m just surprised that you’re talking to me.”

what...what is that supposed to mean? jung sungchan is friends with everyone. he knows the name of the 8 p.m. security guard’s grandson, and how miss lee is going to get married next week. he doesn’t have any trouble striking up a conversation with a stranger, and awkward silences don’t belong in his vocabulary.

but awkward is the only way to describe the silence here. 

the storm has died. it always disappears when you’re in the equation. it’s either your quiet nature just cancels out sungchan’s innate sociability, or perhaps your usual calm and unmoving face just makes him nervous and uncomfortable around you.

“w—well, everyone’s free to come! free booze, or whatever, haha.”

the answer is none of the above.

”i have an appointment in the evening,” you reply “but i’ll stop by if i can. thanks.” when you walk past him, you leave behind a pat on his shoulder, and sungchan suddenly hears thunder rip out— a turbulent, violent storm crashing in. 

the answer lies in the fact that jung sungchan has a stupid fucking crush on you

your face slices off his silver tongue in an instant, and your touch makes his steady heart go crazy like there’s a cyclone shaking it up to oblivion. he he clutches the remnants of your warmth seeping into his clothed shoulder, a bright shade of red painting his face.

there is a storm in the korean language department. it’s in jung sungchan’s ribcage, and there’s no sign of evacuation.

[evilminji]

I'ma be bold! Marvel Time!

Wakanda has Vibranium. An impossible mineral that does not see like it could form naturally, right? Or there would be far more in the wider universe then just the few bits we see.

You know what ELSE is impossibly rare, minerals wise?

Ectoranium. The disasteroid. And! From Wakandan oral history? The two seem to have appeared in the EXACT SAME WAY. Out of no where. Through, very possibly, the EXACT SAME rarely opening portal. If? On the other side? There was an asteroid belt of some kind?

It would only take things aligning just right, for one to slip through.

We KNOW materials from the Zone effect the living world in strange ways. Vibranium could very well just be the dead reflection of a mineral from a different, more durable, universe. The Zone is Infinite, so it would mix pretty much EVERYTHING together into a chaotic mess.

So there could be a considerable amount of Vibranium asteroids just hanging around.

But! And more importantly! Getting hit by, then LIVING OVER, a massive fuck off Zone Rock? Would expose Wakandans to generations of Ectoplasm. ESPECIALLY with how Vibranium, by nature, holds a "charge" if you will. It would be a heat lamp of Limnality. Making everyone near it?

Better.

Not superhuman. Not fully Limnal. Because Vibranium HOLDS a charge. That Ectoplasmic energy would be stuck INSIDE the metal. Unable to truely effect anyone who isn't directly touching it. Even then, BARELY seeping into them. But? It WOULD leech, slowly, into everything around it.

The air, the water, the soil.

The PLANTS. That precious, precious, SACRED Herb.

Over time? It would loosen the ties that bind. Those pesky human limitations. Sure, it would say, grow smarter. Stronger. Live longer, better lives. Knees that ache less, backs that do not bend, bones that do not succumb. You're still human! Your DNA no different.

It's just the strength of your SOUL poking through.

Would anyone notice, if it happened slowly? Over enough generations? It's normal. Everyone here is like this. It's not superhuman. Just... HEALTHY, right? A good diet and plenty of exercise? That is what makes our skin clear and eyes sharp, teeth strong and feet sure. Right?

That healthy diet of... what was it again?

Ah yes, Ectoplasmicly charged plants? Sweet fruits and healthy vegetables. Water purged of contamination by the Ectoplasm to devours all but itself? So very crisp! Is it not?

Houses made of materials charged with it. Resting in beds, beneath covers and cloth, woven with it. Walking upon streets paved with it. What in Wakanda is NOT touched by it? In some form? Some way? Gently bathing all who live there in its unseen light?

And, tell me, WHERE do you go again? When you fall? When you join your Panther God? Mmmhmm, pockets within pockets. Lairs and territories. The Zone itself may be green, but a Lair can be what ever it's Master chooses.

But! Why do I bring this up? That the Afterlives are no doubt connected? After all, it's not like the Master's of those Lair's, the Gods that are worshipped, would just... LET people leave. It defeats the purpose of creating an "Afterlife"!

But, again! Consider! The Panther God loves the Wakandan Royal Family. They are loyal worshipers. The Panther Gods responsibility. And? The rather newly dead T'Chaka, former monarch (and thus rather informed of all the major concerns of a nation) of Wakanda, has informed the Panther God that? Gasp!

The Vibranium is, at generations long last, about to run out.

Their people are in danger.

Please! Do something!

The God can not. Buuuut... the "ghost king" of the space between, can. He must go, on a Dangerous And Heroic Soul Pilgrimage(tm) to meet with this mysterious king. Negotiate for his son and people. T'Chaka, a brave and dignified king, will of course face this challenge with all that he is.

It's very Alice in Wonderland. (The poor man.)

But the Black Panther manages to get to the still under construction castle none the less. Lead by a delightful, if mischievous, young girl by the name of "Dani" (with an i). Who reminds him, somewhat painfully, of his daughter Shuri when she was younger.

The King of the Between is a... young man.

Busy putting constellations on the ceiling, he pays them little mind. Until Dani calls out to him. Revealing that exactly like Shuri, she was a princess all along. He can see the resemblance.

He explains his issue, prepared to argue his case for however long he must. Instead he is just met with long soul searching look, a glance to Dani (who appears to vouch for him), and a nod. He is baffled. It... so easily?

People need help, he is informed. That's reason enough. Besides, Dani says you're not a fruitloop. And the young king trusts her judgment.

Let's go get your people some rocks.

(You can imagine, the ABSOLUTE SHIT STORM. Mentally, Emotionally, Politically, when the GHOST of the FORMER KING just? Shows up! Broad daylight! In the royal yard in from of the palace with a GIANT piece of Vibranium and a foreign King of The Dead.

Father... WHY. Don't get T'Challa wrong, he is about to cry he's so happy to see you. But? In PUBLIC, Father? In front of his delicious Wakandan Salad? Stop being so amused you old cat! This isn't FUNNY! Now I have to deal with this! T^T )

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[shitsndgiggs]

Would be able to make a something about xavi simmons because he’s so under appreciated and he totally deserves more things written about him thanks you!

LONG DAY - XAVI SIMONS

You help Xavi get ready for bed after a long day

Xavi Simons x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Xavi walks through the door, looking more exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. He’s still in his normal clothes, but the weariness is clear in his every movement.

The game must have taken everything out of him. His eyes meet mine, and despite the exhaustion, he manages a small, tired smile.

“Rough day?” I ask softly, moving toward him.

“Something like that,” he replies, his voice low and drained. He drops his bag by the door, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his body is practically begging for rest.

“Come here,” I say gently, reaching for his hand. He doesn’t resist, letting me lead him toward the bedroom.

His steps are heavy, and I can feel the weight of the day in the way he leans into me, as if just being close to me is a relief.

I guide him to the bed, and as he sits down, I kneel in front of him, my hands gently moving to his shoes.

“Let me help you,” I whisper, my voice soft in the quiet room. He doesn’t protest, just watches me with a tired, grateful expression.

I untie his laces, slipping off his shoes and socks before moving up to his pants. He lifts his hips slightly, letting me slide them down his legs.

As I work, I can feel his eyes on me, a silent thank you in the way he gazes at me.

Once his pants are off, I stand, and he follows my lead, my hands automatically going to the buttons of his shirt.

His eyes are half-closed as he watches me, his usual energy replaced with a quiet appreciation.

I start unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers moving carefully, almost reverently, as I work my way down.

He stands there, letting me take care of him, and it feels intimate in a way that goes beyond words.

“You really wore yourself out, huh?” I murmur, focusing on the task at hand. My fingers brush against his skin as I undo each button, and I can feel his body relax just a little bit more with every movement.

He nods slightly, too tired to do much more than that. “It was a long day. But this… this helps.”

I helping him out of it completely, leaving him in just his boxers.

“There,” I say with a small smile, guiding him to lie down. “Now you can finally rest.”

But as he settles onto the bed, he catches my hand, pulling me gently toward him.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice a little stronger now, though still laced with exhaustion.

“Of course,” I reply, climbing in beside him. The moment I’m under the covers, he turns toward me, his arm wrapping around my waist as he pulls me close.

Our bodies fit together perfectly, his warmth seeping into me as we lie there, facing each other.

For a moment, we just breathe, the room filled with a comforting silence. Then, without a word, Xavi leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s slow, unhurried, filled with all the love and affection we don’t need to put into words.

I kiss him back just as slowly, savoring the feel of him, the gentle pressure of his lips on mine.

His hand rests on my hip, his thumb tracing small circles against my skin, a simple touch that sends warmth spreading through me.

We continue like this, exchanging slow, tender kisses, neither of us in any rush. There’s something so peaceful about it, the way we’re connected in this moment, sharing in each other’s presence after such a long day.

When we finally pull back, our foreheads resting together, I can see the tension in Xavi’s face has eased. He looks more relaxed, his eyes softer, filled with that same warmth I feel in my chest.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath warm against my lips.

“For what?” I ask, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“For being here. For taking care of me,” he replies, his voice full of sincerity. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smile, my heart swelling with affection. “You don’t have to thank me,” I say softly. “I’ll always be here for you.”

He closes his eyes, his head settling against my pillow as he lets out a contented sigh. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as he drifts off, his breathing evening out as sleep finally claims him.

I stay awake a little longer, just watching him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine.

There’s a profound sense of contentment in this moment, knowing that he’s at peace, that he’s resting after a hard day, and that I’m the one who gets to be here with him.

Eventually, my eyes grow heavy, and I let myself relax fully into his embrace.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 16k, Harry/Louis]

Louis hates his job as an accountant and desperately wants to be a teacher. Of course, that would mean going back to uni, which he can’t afford if he wants to keep up the mortgage payments on his house. It’s Niall that suggests Louis gets a housemate.

Harry is great around the house, loves cooking and cleaning, and everything is fine, lovely even. That is until Louis locks himself out of the house, and in his attempts to get inside, he stumbles upon Harry wanking to a video of Louis playing footy.

OR Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

＊ Unbonded by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 24k, Louis/Harry]

“Look,” Louis says firmly. “Last time I checked, I’m still the pack leader, so you damn well better listen to me. It was Harry who worked out what I’d been poisoned with, then nursed me back to health. And it was Harry who thwarted the plan for my second assassination attempt by literally throwing himself in front of an arrow intended for me, nearly dying in the process, which is why we’re even having this argument in the first place. So if you think I’m going to set foot outside of this hut until he’s fully healed, you’ve all seriously misread the situation, and even more importantly, you’ve all seriously misread me.”

OR the one where Harry is an omega who has been cast out from his pack, Louis is the alpha leader of the pack where Harry finds a new home, Liam is an alpha with heart of gold, and Niall is a cook who can't seem to stop setting himself on fire.

＊ frightened by the bite, no harsher than the bark by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 21k, Louis/Harry]

louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. if it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

＊ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 10k, Harry/Louis]

it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

a don’t be afraid to love (and love again) time stamp. Part 2 of trans louis verse

＊ If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

＊ It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16 [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

＊ Tastes Like Violets by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Pop star Harry Styles has a bit of a crush on his makeup artist's brother.

Or Louis has a death metal band, Harry doesn't mind public challenges via Twitter, and Lottie thinks they're both hopelessly chaotic.

＊ Coração selvagem by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter [NR, 50k, Louis/Harry]

Louis keeps his eyes on the Wolf, careful about every movement he makes. He keeps his head tilted, deliberately showing the right side of his neck; the mating gland is on the other side, but this still shows he’s not a threat. Zayn answers at the third ring. “Lou?” he asks, confusion seeping into his voice. “Zed,” Louis says quietly, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible. “Zed, I’ve found Harry. He’s feral.”

Or, Louis' life in his newfound Pack gets disrupted by an old flame coming back for him, shifted and feral.

＊ No Surprises by @louislittletomlintum [E, 21k, Harry/Louis]

The thing was, Louis worked in an office, and it was fine. It could be worse.

But maybe, it could be better.

“I smoke socially, sometimes. Depends who I’m with,” Harry shrugged, taking another puff. Louis watched his soft little lips wrap around it and purse just slightly on the inhale. It wasn’t the first time he considered if Harry was perfectly made just to torment him.

“Hm. I won’t send you to jail for now, then. On crimes of fibbing,” Louis decided benevolently. He was about to open his mouth to spout off some other shite before he saw Harry had a bit of a pensive look in his features despite how his eyes were a little glassy.

“Lou,” he began, and god Louis loved that he’d earned that little nickname off of him. “Can I ask you summat?” Harry added, tapping the ash of the cigarette in the tray before taking another puff.

“You just did,” Louis smiled because Harry walked right into that one. “But I’ll give you another,”

“How did you know you were queer?”

or; an office au where louis is a loveable brat and harry is working himself out

＊ Listening to Intuition by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Now that Zayn was laying it all out like this, Louis got to wondering… could it be possible that he was never able to get a really good handle on what exactly aromanticism was because he’d never felt romantic attraction, and without that key piece, how could he possibly figure out what it truly meant to be lacking it?

Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked. Part 1 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ Smells Like TEAM Spirit by @persephoneflouwers [NR, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Punk Louis and quarterback Harry have been secretly dating for years. Feeling overwhelmed by his commitments, Harry suggests a short break, fearing he can't give Louis enough time. As Louis reflects on his vulnerabilities, Harry struggles on the field without him. Part 1 of ~ Pocket Tales unfolding on Screen ~

＊ If Control is My Religion… by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 14k, Louis/Harry]

“So just to recap, you’ve been vomiting every single morning, and then you seem to be fine for the rest of the day?”

Louis nods. “Except for yesterday when Liam was eating a tuna sandwich after practice and it smelled vile. Who the hell even likes tuna sandwiches?”

Niall sighs in the way that a disappointed parent might. “Louis, please don’t take this in the wrong way, because I’m not judging you at all. But is there any possibility that you’re pregnant?”

Louis scoffs. Technically, it is possible. Louis’ known he was a male carrier since his routine physical when he was sixteen. But it isn’t actually possible, not really. He and Harry always use a condom.

Except for that one day a few weeks ago when Louis had forgotten to buy more and they couldn’t wait. And the time the week before that when the condom had broke, but they both figured it was probably fine.

Shit.

(Or the one where Louis is a professional football player, who’s in a very mutually beneficial no-strings-attached relationship with the team’s medical trainer Harry. Everything in Louis’ life is exactly how he wants it. Until he finds himself unexpectedly pregnant).

＊ Forward by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis must keep moving forward.

Quiet scenes from an older Louis and Harry, who are always working to be better together.

＊ Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles.

Harry Styles, his former bandmate.

Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years.

Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles.

OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

＊ Following the Good Vibes by @lululawrence [NR, 6k, Harry/Louis]

"Oh my god, I can't believe it's really you!" Zayn said with a wide smile, hands on his hips as if he was truly stunned over the fact this guy was sitting just a couple of seats behind him. "I thought it might be when I heard your voice, but I haven't seen you in years! How are you doing..."

It was then Zayn realized he didn't have a fucking clue what this guy's name was and he was pretending they were long lost friends.

After an awkward pause, Zayn finally tacked on, "...Chad!"

When Zayn rescues a stranger named Harry from an awkward plane ride beside a total dick, he doesn't think much of it. Harry as the chance to pay it forward on a later flight, and in doing so he just might set into motion pieces that will determine the path his future takes. Part 2 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ It's Not That I Don't Want You by @parmahamlarrie [E, 12k, Louis/Harry]

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend?

Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

＊ I'd Rather You (Hold Me)by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 14k, Zayn/Louis]

He frowns when he hears the dial tone. By now, he knows just how many times the sound will come through, tinny on the speakers, before it clicks over to voicemail, and yet he still feels his heart trip over itself whenever the voice first comes through.

“Hi, you’ve reached Zayn-”

He sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where his headache always tends to bloom when he’s stressed. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, disconnecting the call and resisting the childish urge to redial immediately, knowing that if Zayn’s not picking up now, he won’t no matter how much Louis bugs him.

It’s just - this isn’t like them. It isn’t like Zayn to dodge his calls for days, not unless he’s seriously incapacitated or dead, but if that were the case, Louis would’ve heard. Because Louis is his emergency contact, for one, and both their families know how much they mean to one another. Someone would’ve called, if something had happened, unless Zayn was dead in his own house, and, oh God, what if Zayn’s dead in his own house and Louis has been mentally calling him a dickhead while he’s rotting on the bathroom floor?

Spoiler: Zayn isn't dead. There is however, suddenly a baby.

＊ coming home by @nouies [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

It’s coming home, one way or another.

＊ Never Wanted Love, Just A Fancy Car by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 7k, Harry/fLouis]

“Anyways,” the man says, “someone as handsome as you shouldn’t be sitting all alone with an empty glass. Can I get you a drink?”Louis raises an eyebrow, snorting. “It’s an open bar,” he says. “The company is buying the drinks.”“Well.” The man laughs nervously. “I suppose so. But it is my company, so. I guess I already bought you a drink?”Louis feels his head jerk up in surprise, his mouth falling open as he looks into the face of COO Harry Styles, son of founder and CEO Desmond Styles.

When graphic designer Louis gets asked out by C-suite executive Harry, he thinks Harry is trying to take advantage of him. But he's willing to take advantage of him right back, if that's what it takes to get ahead in life and get his sister's new business off the ground.

＊ your brightest star by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 35k, Louis/Harry]

“My baby,” Louis whispered into Harry’s neck, closing his eyes tightly into the embrace. Harry squeezed him closer and Louis could feel him nodding into his throat before he kissed him gently behind the ear.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into his shoulder.

He tried to move closer, but they were already pressed together from cheek to where their ankles were tangled precariously together. “Me too, me too.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, just for Louis’ ears. They swayed slightly, like a delicate dance to the distilled noise around them.

“Oh, darling. Sunshine.”

Or a series of timestamps from the sunshine, baby! universe 𖤓 Part 2 of you're the sun to me

＊ we could be enough by @hellolovers13 [M, 5k, Harry/Louis]

“You know I am flirting with you, right?”

Louis freezes mid-bite. Just manages not to choke on his steak.

Harry laughs a bit too loudly, almost like he’s nervous. “Yeah, should’ve known you weren’t the observant kind. You think I get this dressed up for a random dinner with a mate on a Tuesday night?”

or Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is.

Then he meets Harry.

＊ Just The Way You Are by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 780 words, Louis/Harry]

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what, love?" He could hear the frown in Louis’ voice, and tried to subtly release soothing pheromones into the kitchen "You know...sex and all that." "Where's this coming from, Haz?"

Or, the one where Harry confesses his worries, and Louis reassures him. Part 1 of I Just Wanna Love You

＊ This Feels Like Home by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 300 words, Harry/Louis]

After one too many nights alone in a hotel bed, Harry flies home on a whim to surprise his husband.

[remusslove]

Dom reader and Dom James taking care of a bratty Regulus? I love your stuff btw

Punishment~ regulus x James x reader

“Regulus.” James snapped at him, clearly tired of his attitude. “What?” Regulus answered sharply narrowing his eyes at the dominate male sitting in front of him.

“Go to our room. Now.” James replied anger laced in his tone. You watched the scene playing out in front of you silently hoping that regulus would obey at least once. James is always the soft one, so if he uses even a bit of sternness in his voice it usually doesn’t end up well.

You sighed motioning for regulus to go up stairs as he locked eyes with you. He scoffed before stomping his way up the stairs and slamming the door shut.

“Why didn’t you help me!? You know he listens to you more.” James said to you. “He needs to learn that he can’t run to you for everything. Tonight will change that.” You replied with a quiet tone.

You both finished your drinks before heading upstairs to your bratty sub. “Strip.” “No.” Regulus bit back at James causing the male to scoff at him. “Regulus enough with the attitude. Strip.” You broke the silence with a quiet tone.

Regulus gulped looking in your eyes but quickly seeing no softness in them. He slowly took off his shirt and pants deciding to leave on his boxers. James quickly hovered over him beginning to suck on his neck. Regulus whimpered at a particular harsh suck, feeling James’s teeth bite into his sensitive skin.

“I’ll be back. M’ gonna go to Marlene’s to get something.” Your words made regulus let out a sound of confusion. You smiled before making your way towards him.

“James’s gonna punish you today. Just do what he says and he won’t go as hard as you. Bye bunny.” You whispered to him placing a kiss on his pouty lips that already were a bit swollen due to the rough kiss James he just received from james.

~~~~~~

“Please daddy m’swear l’ll be good!” Regulus whimpered. You chuckled walking into the room seeing James harshly pounding into the smaller boys hole. “Wanted daddy to punish you so bad hm? Shut up and take it” his words surprised you a little but aroused you nonetheless. “Poor baby, already shaking hm?” You taunted removing your clothes. “Mommy” he whimpered through soft sobs of pleasure overstimulation.

James groaned cumming in the boys ass causing regulus to arch his back but whimper again as James pulled out.

His hole clenched with need to be filled up as cum seeped out of his hole and onto the bedsheets. “Can you do one more baby? I’ll let you cum this time.” You answered sweetly which sounded like heaven to his pathetic little self. He nodded making you chuckle and manhandle him into the doggy position motioning for James to go infront on him. James smirked positioning himself in front of the needy boy.

He grabbed regulus jaw for a moment forcing his mouth to open wide and for his tongue to fall out. “Already ready for our cocks? Slutty little thing” James degraded him while slapping his cock on regulus tongue so the boy couldn’t answer. You pushed the tip of your strap into his ass making him whine at the contact. It took only a couple of seconds before you fully pushed it in. Regulus moaned taking James’s length in his mouth.

He gagged bobbing his head back and forth slowly. He wanted to tell James to go soft but was muffled by his cock. James groaned as the younger boys tongue moved up and down occasionally licking his tip in a circle. James let out a choked moan before tugging on regulus’s hair and shoving his cock down his throat. Regulus coughed and sputtered grabbing onto James thighs trying to breath through his nose.

You thrusted harshly into regulus giving him a few smacks on the ass. He moaned sending vibrations onto James’s dick making the boy see stars. You could tell on both their faces they were both gonna cum real soon. Regulus mewled pushing his head away from James’s pelvic bone that his nose was currently touching.

[lovejosephquinn]

joe coming home from the comic-con in london- he has interacted with so many children that day, so in love with the idea of his own child, so when he comes home he immediately pounces on you begging for a baby, your like “are you serious” 😳, he gives you ‘that look’ he ain’t playin around, you can’t help yourself but to feel so needy for that baby as well, your on him as fast as you can. mouth’s perfectly slotting together, his hands go under your ass, and lift you up as he walks you to the bedroom, but you can’t make it up the stairs, so you make him sit on the step and get down and dirty on the 7th step, you will forever remember that step, the step you and joe made your first child on. me rn 🫠

-🥶

I MEAN HOW COULD I NOT WRITE THIS UGH 💀 oKAY.

Under 18's DNI. Word Count: 1.7k

You couldn't quite believe the words that came out of his mouth, it was something you'd thought about for a while and talked every now and then about, you somehow thought that when he returned home from the con event in London that day that he'd be exhausted and just want to put his feet up, but his thoughts lay elsewhere and all signs pointed to you.

You were reached from behind the sofa which you sat, arms wrapping around your chest and kisses being planted to your neck immediately, disturbing you from the mind numbing truth of evening television, craning your head to the side you welcomed the soft lips that erected goosebumps wherever they touched.

"Hello to you too, Joey." You smiled.

You felt an overwhelming shudder run down your spine when he pressed against a soft spot, his hands running underneath your clothing and firmly massaging your tits, nipples immediately hard from the pinch between his digits.

"Good day?" You tried to make light conversation in hope that he'd actually speak up, nothing could prepare you for what his reply actually was.

"Baby."

"Yes?" Joe moved away, allowing you to come face to face with him as you took a puzzled but amused look at him. He seemed almost drunk, dazed and over excited and you were severely confused yet amused all in the same breath.

Joe ran half a lap around to the sofa, immediately planting himself down next to you, leaning to grab at your side and pull you onto his lap. Stroking his fingers along every crevice of skin he could find, making the rest of you melt into the puddle of mush he brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you down to meet in a warm and passionate kiss.

You pulled back hesitantly, mouths still inches away from each other. "Is everything-"

"A baby, let's try for a baby." Joe's pupils had dilated over the soft brown that usually glowed sweetly and you knew he wasn't joking, the sudden demand in his voice left no room for anymore silence, other than the gulp of a whimper you let out.

"Are- are you serious?" You bit your lip in almost a sense of anxiety, you needed the reassurance that he was truly ready.

"Deadly. I've never craved it more, I want us to start a family. I want you to be her, I honestly can say I never realised it until I met all these wonderful little humans today and now I want one of my own. Our own."

You kissed him like your life depended on it, nothing on earth could stop you from throwing your lips back onto his like you did. Tears seeped from the corners of your closed eyes, you felt so close with each other in that one moment, you could have almost become one. You loved this man with all your heart.

"You're really not joking?" You panted for breath as you looked into each others eyes intermittently.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Joe stared with a stern face, a lustful look which assured you deeply.

"It might not happen straight away Joey."

"Then I'll fuck you until you're good and full, so full of it you'll have to get pregnant."

That one sentence had never sounded so sweet yet so sexy at the same time and you were ready, grabbing a fist full of his curls and pulling him into a faster more desperate kiss, tongues colliding, lips smacking, moans greatly received from one vocal chord to the other.

"Please." You whispered.

Joe hooked his hands underneath your ass, lifting you up with him as he stood to his feet, you wrapped your legs around him for full support, undressing each other as you walked, crashing into walls and making out at each stop, the fire had never been so fuelled.

You were fully naked and fully soaked by his words by the time you'd got to the bottom of the stairs, completely hooked by each others sentiments and the entire reason you were to be under sexual desire this time around.

Joe climbed half way up the staircase, halting about three quarters of the way up, carefully and skilfully swinging himself around to sit on the step with you straddled around his lap still, Joe spat onto his hand, rubbing fiercely between the gap which hit your aching clit, preparing you for the erection that stood proudly next to where he was rapidly working at. You threw your head back in sheer pleasure, his mouth came down to work at your nipples, sucking and nibbling on each in it's own turn, your moans electrifying the air and his senses to push him even further to the brink.

"Are we going to make it u-upstairs?" You muttered, pulling his hair back so he could get a good look at you from where he'd lowered himself to your chest.

"Fuck it, I'll breed you right here."

You lifted yourself up, excited at the notion that he couldn't wait to be inside you. His cock filled you instantly as you lowered yourself down with his help, his fingers wrapped around the base to keep it stood, it didn't need it exactly, but that way it would just allow your cunt to swallow it beautifully.

"Yes love, that's it. Bounce on my cock. You want this? You want me to fuck this baby into you?"

You couldn't help but moan at his words, the filth, the purity of it all, it was something sacred yet feral.

"You've never felt so good Joey." You had your hands settled on his shoulders, whilst his hands were firmly clutched to your hips, helping you to gain a better pace.

"Fucking ride me like that." Your waist thrusted back in fourth in torment, so badly racing to the finish line to find that release you oh so needed before Joe did.

"So good." You panted, your foreheads came together, beads of sweat hung against one another, your sweet spots enlarging the ball of pleasure knotting tightly inside your stomach. Your walls clenched and you squealed out when Joe bucked his hips up inside of you, your slick coating around the length of his erection, your lips parted as sharp breathes squirmed out of you, your body tightening and then relaxing one after the other.

"Keep going, I'm so close. Going to cum so deep inside you." Joe lifted you, keeping you in place as he thrusted upward inside of you at an erratic speed, making you almost welp from the orgasm you were still busy riding out.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." Joe cried out suddenly, one final hard thrust saw your cunt milking him dry. So much build up, so much tension had caused him to fill you with his seed so well as he'd first intended.

You both remained as you were for a good while, Joe refused to push you off of him until his seed planted itself inside of you good and proper. You sat and basked in the silence, your lungs both in need of the oxygen before either of you spoke a word.

"We might have done it." You broke the tranquility.

"We might have." Joe confirmed back to you, an adoring smile leaving his features which sparkled in a way it never had before.

Joe lent back, one elbow propped against the step, his hand coming to rub against your stomach, of course you were not to be pregnant as of yet, but the hope and sincerity was entirely there and it had never been more a beautiful image than when you saw him run his hand where a baby might start to grow.

"Come on, you got this." You giggled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath before lifting his chin with your finger for his eyes to meet yours again.

"We got this." You took a hefty nod at each other, Joe lifted you off carefully.

You sat naked side by side on the step you had just potentially created life on, remembering the moment with silent flashbacks entering the proximity of your minds.

"Just to be sure though..." Joe nudged you.

"What do you mean?" You furrowed your brow.

"Just to be sure, I'm a man of my word. It won't be long until I'm fucking you as hard as I can again, filling you. I said I'd fill you until the deed was done, I meant it."

He'd turned you on with a simple statement, a fucking beautiful yet deadly serious promise.

Standing up from the step and walking up a step for him to get a full view of you in all your naked glory. "What're you waiting for?"

You walked on up the stairs without a second look back, swinging your hips slightly, Joe put two and two together quickly, a bite of his lip and he followed you like a sheep to truly fulfil his duty.