#but i think i had at least half a dream about it last night lmao

[captainkaithr]

OK so I'm still stuck in the flat today so what if - now hear me out here - what if I just watched more of the untamed?

You're not sick of this yet, right?

[gilverrwrites]

Something cute and smutty with either Tim Drake or Roy ?

AND: What about a one bed trope for Tim pls??

Dream a little dream of me

Tim Drake/Reader, ≈1.8K AN: I don't know if theres such a phrases as 'porn first, questions later' but thats what this is lmao. I'm glad theres an audience for Tim, cause as much as I love the other Robins (wink wink Dick), as a bisexual 90s kid, Tim really is my Robin, ya know? CWs: Somnophilia (but not really), dry humping, intercrural sex/thigh job, hand job, Petnames: Baby, sweetheart Tropes: One bed, friends to lovers, porn with feelings. GN!Reader

Sleeping beside you is neither new nor unusual for Tim. You’d been close friends for years, he’d crashed in your bed after many a patrol, you’d had film or study nights at the manor which always ended with you hogging his bed sheets, and in more recent years you’d huddled together on the cramped mattress he called a bed in the lower deck of his boat on multiple occasions. It had always been so natural and innocent, so why was this hotel bed any different? Well, because his budding, inappropriate crush on you had grown in the time since you’d last shared a comforter; Tim had been having not-so-innocent dreams about you.

Dreams where he got to touch, tease, and taste every inch of your exposed skin until you’re a babbling, pleading mess. Dreams where he silenced your breathy cries and begs by telling you to “be good baby”, spreading your legs, and running the tip of his cock along your entrance. Where you look at him with those big, dreamy eyes of yours right up until it’s too much, until he’s bottomed out inside of you and you can’t help but throw your head back, calling out his name as you dig your nails into his back.

“That feels... so… good.” The sound of your voice calls out to him, but your dream self is in no position to be speaking so coherently.

Wait, dream?

His mind is fuzzy as he wakes, still heavy with sleep, part of his brain tries desperately to clutch onto the fleeting imagery in his head until he realises two very important things;  

1. Your body is pressed against his. You’re turned away from him, but he can still feel your warmth, the pressure of your back to his chest, your ass to his… crotch. 2. His ‘crotch’ is rock hard.

Despite all instinct telling him to immediately pull away, he waits. Concerned his sudden movement might cause you to stir, he slows himself. Forcing his body to hold back so he can remove himself in increments. Just a little bit, and then a bit more, and more? He swears he’s doing it, swears he’s at least half a foot away from where he’d been upon waking, but you’re still pushing against him, still rolling your hips.

“Tim~”

It’s at this moment Tim has a third, pivotal realisation.

3. You’re grinding on him.

The sound of Tim’s low voice whispering your name against the shell of your ear slowly coaxs you awake. Every warm breath against your skin sends a rush of heat to your already aching sex. You’d been having such a peaceful, steamy dream in which your best friend, and secret crush; Tim had been tenderly rocking his cock into you from behind. As you take in the hotel room and the hotness of Tim’s body spooning into you, you can’t tell if you’re awake or still dreaming.

“Can you feel that?” His hushed voice pierces the quietness of the room and you’re not sure what he’s talking about until he surges forward, further pressing the hardness of his clothes cock into the curve of your ass.

“Yes.” You murmur, only intending to answer his question but your sleeply lust-ridden psyche keeps talking. “Don’t stop, I like it.”

“Yeah?” He’s so grateful you’re not looking at him in that moment, otherwise, you’d see the undeniable redness currently rushing to his cheeks. Even in the dark of the night, he’s sure it’s glowing through. “I think we’ve been humping each other in our sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” The fear of his rejection is immediately thrown out when you feel his lips on your pulse point, but you have to ask anyway. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, no, god no.” He trails soft kisses along the side of your neck, each one growing sloppier until he finds and fixates on your jaw for far too short a time. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasised about this. About you. I want you so bad.”

“I want you too, Tim.” A million and one thoughts run through his head in that moment. How much time had the two of you wasted skirting around the subject? What does this mean for your future and your friendship? The only thing he doesn’t think of as he absent-mindedly ruts against you is the one you ask. “Do you have any protection?”

“I have my Red Robin suit in my case.” It’s a dumb joke he can’t help but make, you laugh anyway and he thinks he might love you for it.

“No, but that’s okay. We can make this work.” You hear the snap of your waistband hitting your hip before you feel it. Tim had playfully pulled it taught before letting go to pull down his boxers. Getting the point, you take his cue, shimmying out of your own underwear just in time for Tim to reattach himself to your back and press his open mouth to your shoulder. “Spread your legs baby.”

As you do, Tim slides his cock between them. You wish you’d turned the light on so you could get a better look, but no force on earth could pry you away from him now. Understanding his plan, you don’t wait to be told to close your legs again, engulfing his length with the soft skin of your inner thighs and slowly beginning to rock your hips.

Tim reached over your body, grazing his deft fingers around your waist and across your stomach. A whine escapes your lips as he dips lower to rub along the length of your arousal, his cock twitches between your legs. Knowing it's so close makes you feel empty, makes you ache to feel him deep inside you, makes the tension in your core coil even more.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dripping.” He can hear the wonderment in his own voice as he glides his thumb around you. In response you clench your thighs even harder around his cock, making him groan into your neck.

It isn’t long before your grinding hard and fast around his dick, gripping his arm as you get lost in the moment. The combined sensations feels so good, and you can’t get enough.

Neither can Tim. He could never have dreamed that the reality would feel so good. He’s in awe of the way your body moves, of the pornographic noises you’re making for him. He can barely focus. He wants to hold on longer, wants to bask in your warmth and scent for as long as possible but your merciless rhythm and the feel of your thighs around his throbbing cock has him chasing his climax way too soon.

“Are you close?” He sputters. You answer with a string of incomprehensible whimpers and a weak nod. He isn’t even in you, and you’re already drunk on your best friend. You’d be ashamed if you had the capacity to care in that moment. “Come with me?”

It’s a question, not a command. This is a partnership, he wants you to feel connected, not controlled and that has your toes curling.

Simultaneously your thrusting becomes strained, and more erratic as his pumping grows faster, and sloppier, both of you getting lost in your highs but still determined to ride out the other, filling the room with deep, ragged breaths until you’re shuddering in his arms, savouring every last remnants of pleasure. The way his strong hands cup your body has you feeling safe in your post-orgasm euphoria.

It isn’t until you feel the moisture of your combined cum seeping into the fabric below you that you remember there’s a world outside of you and him. You sit up simultaneously, Tim reaches for the bedside lamp and is stunned by the sight of your sweat-sheened skin and heavy eyes when he turns back. Completely unaware that you’re thinking the same thing about his flushed cheeks and fluffy bedhead.

You gesture to the puddle you’re currently half-sat in and joke; “The hotel cleaners are going to hate us.”

Before you can exit the bed, Tim is on his feet and rushing to the ensuite. He returns a moment later with a roll of tissues and a damp cloth. You’ve rolled over, face down on his side of the bed in an attempt not to spread the fluids even more and he gets to work wiping the cum from your leg in slow, circular motions. It shouldn’t take this long, you both know it, he’s just enjoying the moment.

“That was really…” You’d wanted to fill the silence, but now you’re not sure how to finish, you don’t want to scare him away with your excitement, but you want him to know how good he made you feel. “Really wow.”

“Really wow.” He repeats with a teasing snicker, dodging when you reach out to playfully smack his shoulder. “What? What? It was wow.”

He’s teasing. With a 147 IQ, he knows a better word than wow, but he’s choosing to repeat yours, tone and all. It’s not like he hasn’t messed with you before, and you’ve always been able to dish it back, but now feels different. Now is different.

“So, I take it we’re not just friends anymore?” You ask as he climbs over you to work on the wet patch. Eventually, he finds a position kneeling at the bottom of the bed, and you roll over once more, now seated and positioned to watch him.

“Um, no.” He coughs, not to clear his throat but to prolong his time to think of an answer. Your gaze is making him nervous. He doesn’t know what you want him to say, doesn’t want to come on too strong and ruin your friendship, but he also doesn’t want to seem too lax, to make you think he’s just using you or that he’s not interested in something more than friendship. “Friends definitely don’t do that.”

“So, what are we?” You push, not missing the way his adams-apple bobs as he swallows back his nerves.

“I don’t know.” His chest immediately grows tight at the hurt look that spreads across your face. Fuck it, now or never. “But whatever we are, I’m yours.”

Your expression doesn’t immediately change, and he worries he’s misread your reaction. Assumed that you want him the way he wants you.

“If you want me that is.” He continues, trying to save face.

“Of course, I want you, Tim.” He hadn’t realised how tense the conversation was making him until he heard those magic words. In seconds you’re face to face with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close to offer your body as comfort. You’ve always been able to read and react to him so well, like you were programmed for him. “You can be mine, if I can be yours.”

Then he feels your lips pucker against his hairline, and despite having climaxed between your legs only minutes earlier, he’s suddenly more nervous than he’s ever been. Gently, you drag your lips down his face, leaving kisses along his brow line, his cheekbones, and his jowls until you're inches from his own lips.

Your eyes dart back and forth between his own eyes and his mouth, he licks his lips in preparation for yours and then you’re on him, lips locked, tangled in each other’s arms.

There’s a drying stain waiting to be cleaned, and a long day ahead of you both tomorrow, but right now none of that matters.

[kopfkino-o]

The Seer's Stone - Chapter 6 (Az POV)

Summary: Azriel is being pushed to his limits, driven half-mad by his increased workload, Koschei’s recent movements, and the unaddressed feelings still hanging between him and Elain. His mind is at war with himself, thoughts and regrets constantly battling with him, but when an old acquaintance comes calling he feels compelled to answer, bound by loyalty and duty he sets off to find what very well might be his own damnation.

Pairing: Elain x Azriel 

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1970

Read:

Chapter One | The Crone’s Trade

Chapter Two | The Oracle of Seraphyros 

Chapter Three | Last of Our Kind (Azriel)

Chapter Four | An Empty Seat

Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn - UPDATED

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! More below 💋

PHEW! After several months of insanity (see: moving to a new city, taking on several new projects at my day job as a graphic designer, getting engaged, traveling to Europe to be in a friend's wedding, hurting my knee again (rip lmao), and the general chaos of being alive) I am so excited to be back writing again. And even more excited to share this latest chapter of the Seer's Stone with the world.

Writing took a back seat within my life last year, due impart to the aforementioned chaos, but also due to some personal anxieties I had about sharing my work. It's irrational, I know, writing is writing, art is art! But still, I found myself lacking confidence and facing a ton of writer's block, but I found some new inspiration through my professional creative work, had a few friends that really helped to cheer me on, and had a lot of downtime after my knee surgery to think about and play around with my craft. All that being said, I'm really really glad to be back at it and revisiting this story, and learning through writing fanfiction.

My plans for the fic haven't changed (too much), but I do think I ought to note that I made some edits to the last update, Chapter Five | Death and the Lovely Fawn, that I feel like I just needed to make to provide clarity/build up for the direction of the story.

Lastly, I just wanted to say thank you to the folks who reached to me about this fic even when I wasn't actively updating it and offered me support/encouragement. This meant so so much to me, more than you all probably know, and I just wanted to say thanks for that.

This one's for you guys.

xoxo, Court

There was a building headache in Azriel's temples.

Every beat of his heart reverberated through his skull like a war drum. Azriel worked his jaw, grinding his teeth. There had always been something about the dank darkness of the Hewn City that pressed down on him like a fist, but the hateful place was particularly grating tonight.

Wrong, his shadows murmured, this place is wrong

"Hush," he snapped back at them, in no mood for their whisperings.

The floor shifted underfoot, and the long, stone passageway changed before his eyes, writhing as if it were a living thing. To anyone else, the illusion might have been nauseating, but these tunnels and their strange enchantments had become second nature to him during the time he served beneath Rhysand's father.

The old High Lord had personally keyed the spells into the oily stone walls to prevent his captives from ever learning the true layout of the tunnel system. And, perhaps, to also remind them they were so far beneath the earth they could only dream of feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces again.

He had been cruel like that.

Azriel rounded a bend in the stone and found himself in another long hallway carved directly into the mountain. Only this hallway was lined with ancient, half-rusted cell doors—cells that housed the worst of the Night Court's filth. Or at least, what was left of them.

Halfway down the corridor, Feyre and Amren were waiting for him outside one of those cells, the High Lady and her second-in-command half-concealed in shadow, their whispered voices echoing queerly off the rock walls.

Both females fell silent when they caught sight of him. Something twisted in Azriel’s gut. For them both to be here, in the dead of the night, with Nyx still so young and Varian here in Velaris on a short respite from Adriata, meant something was wrong. The look on Feyre’s beautiful face only confirmed that. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re late,” Amren snapped. It was as much a greeting as he’d get from her.

Azriel matched the second’s same cool indifference. “I was in the middle of something when you sent for me. I came as soon as I could.”

“Off again, doing only the Mother knows what? You don’t fool me, boy. I can smell the Continent on you.”

“I come, I go. So is the nature of my work.”

“Is it, now?”

“If you intend to suggest I’m up to something you disapprove of, then by all means, Amren, do so now and let us be done with it. I’m not here to indulge in idle banter.”

The second-in-command bared her teeth, smoke-gray eyes glowing like two torches amidst the gloom, and for half a heartbeat, Azriel thought she might press the matter.

Then Feyre stepped forward and cleared her throat. There were dark smudges of exhaustion beneath the High Lady’s eyes, but she still looked as regal as ever in her Illyrian leathers, her carved ashwood bow and a matching quiver of arrows peeking up over her armored shoulders.

“Enough, you two,” Feyre said, voice laced with nothing but command. She shot both Azriel and Amren a warning look before folding her tattooed hands behind her back, taking up the position of authority fitting of both a war commander and a queen. “We have bigger matters at hand, and I didn’t leave my infant son asleep at home with a nanny just to come here and listen to you bicker.” She nudged Amren with an armored elbow. “So, won't you be a dear and update our lovely Spymaster on the situation at hand?”

Amren shot him one last distrustful look before answering their High Lady's command. "We picked up two...stragglers...trying to make their way to the Prison Isle. From what we've been able to gather, it appears they were attempting to make their way inside the Prison itself."

Azriel's brows rose. Sneak onto the Prison Isle? That was not only impossible, but it was complete and utter madness. A sick, sudden realization shuddered through him, so fierce it cut through the pounding in his head.

Elain.

Elain was trying to get access to the Prison for reasons still unknown to him. Her and the spellspinner she'd tried so diligently to keep hidden in the Library.

Azriel's shadows had brought him word of their machinations weeks ago, initially tipped off by the arrival of the young spellspinner, and catching Elain in his bedroom yesterday had only confirmed his suspicions, but surely she hadn't gone against his warnings. Surely she hadn't...

"Something wrong, boy?" Amren crooned.

He ignored her. "Tell me everything," he said to Feyre.

"One male, one female. Both don't seem to hold any particular court alliance, but they were...dressed strangely. Almost as if they were trying to blend in with the Library's priestesses. Only their robes were gray, not white, and they carried no invoking stones." Feyre scrubbed a hand down her face. "Rhys caught the male on the beaches; I found the female still on the boat they'd used to reach the Isle."

Azriel might have sighed his relief if only Feyre's words weren't too much to stomach. Elain and her friends, and whatever wild plan they'd concocted, might be safe for now, but an unwelcome stranger trying to land on the Prison Isle was nothing to take lightly. And the fact Azriel, nor his shadows, had seen it coming rankled him.

"I tried to talk to her, wanted to know who she was, why she was there," the High Lady continued. "But she pulled a knife before I could get to her. I watched her open her own throat. Tried to heal her, but to no avail, little thanks to the poison on her blade." Feyre shook her head then tossed a thumb towards the cell door. "Rhys is inside with the male. He won't speak, though. He just keeps... singing."

"Singing?" Azriel echoed.

"He means to mock us," Amren murmured.

It was Feyre who ignored the second-in-command now. The High Lady tipped her head towards the cell door. "You'll see." She said. "We'll be waiting at the Riverhouse for your report."

And with that, Feyre reached a hand for Amren and winnowed them both away, leaving Azriel alone with his pounding head, the ancient black stone, and the iron door looming before him.

Azriel drew in a breath. Down, down, down he sank into himself before he strode for the cell door and shoved it open.

The sharp smell of blood and piss and fear arrested his senses as soon as he stepped into the dimly lit cell.

Old memories reared their ugly heads, taking him back to a different time where he came to these very cells to serve a far different lord. Truth-Teller warmed at his side, steadying him. Azriel wrapped a hand around the dagger's familiar hilt and shoved the memories back inside their iron cages to rot.

He made a quick sweep of the room when his eyes finally adjusted. Shadows clung to the corners of the narrow cell, dark enough to conceal his brother's powerful form hidden within them. Rhys was the darkness here. Anyone else might have missed him, but Azriel knew his brother's scent, the sound of his breathing, and marked where he stood in one of the shadowy corners.

In the center of the cell, bound and blindfolded, sat the captive. His gray robes were bloody, his lip split and broken, but he was singing just as Feyre had promised. Singing some horrible old song.

"...blue blood, red blood, blood black as a moonless night," the captive's voice echoed off the cell walls, garbled and made watery by his mouthful of broken teeth. "A pound of flesh, a pound of bone, a gift for a maiden made of light..."

Azriel's shadows swarmed. They flowed across the old stone floors to circle the captive like a pack of hungry dogs, writhing and twisting as they tried to make sense of him and his strange song. Almost as if the song had offended them. As if it scared them.

The darkness melted, and Rhys appeared from within it, arms crossed and brow furrowed, the mask of the High Lord in perfect place. Stars were dancing in his violet eyes, cold and unyielding, burning with a hunger Azriel himself knew all too well.

"He's been at it all night," Rhys said softly. "The same two verses of the same song, over and over again. It's driving me fucking mad."

"You scramble his brains or something?" Azriel asked.

"Would that I could. His mind is impenetrable. Practically walled off with solid obsidian. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's been prepped on how to face a Daemati, then."

"Or spelled to keep one out of his mind."

The words rose a chill within him, and Azriel found himself watching his brother more closely. Rhys worked a tick in his jaw, violet eyes churning as he assessed the battered man babbling his strange song.

"...away, away, at the crown of midnight..."

Azriel had never heard the tune before. Yet, it rankled him somehow. Dragged cold talons through his guts as if it were trying to make a home there.

Pain pricked behind his eyes, blooming like a thousand burning stars.

Azriel rolled his shoulders, fighting the headache, and drew in a deep breath of the rank air, descending deeper into that inside, readying himself for what was to come.

"He'll break," he said softly.

Rhys did not look at him as he replied. "I know."

Eventually, they exchanged the briefest, most fleeting of looks, but the silent words that passed between them meant everything. Rhys's eyes reminded him that Azriel did not have to do this. That he was, in fact, not his father's son. That this Night Court was a court of dreamers, of sons who were forgiven of the sins of their fathers, of daughters free to live as they pleased.

But the weight of duty had been taught to Azriel decades ago. And it was not a lesson so easily forgotten.

Skin slips easier off the smaller bones, blood congeals at the joints, and the mind always, always fractures first.

The old High Lord had taught him those things. Had made sure Azriel knew them, committed them to his memory so he might never forget his purpose. His worth. The thing he'd been made for.

Azriel slid Truth-Teller from its sheath. "Leave us," he said to his brother, voice soft as night. "I'll bring my report to the Riverhouse."

Rhysand put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the gesture made as if it might spare him, as if it might change what he was and the things he was born to do.

It wouldn't.

Azriel had stopped telling himself such follies a long, long time ago.

So he waited until his brother closed the cell door behind him. Waited until his shadows drank the last bit of light from the dank cell. Waited and listened as the prisoner whimpered the last verses of his swan song.

"...a sword for the son, a horn for the Queen, and dagger for their fool..."

Once, when he was just a boy, the shadows had taught him there was a place he could go, somewhere he could hide from his father's wrath, from his brothers' hate. Somewhere deep within himself. A place where he felt nothing, saw nothing.

Was nothing.

Azriel went to that place now, hiding somewhere deep within himself. He thought of roses as he raised Truth-Teller to the pale flesh of the prisoner's chest and began to cut.

Blood bloomed and the ache in Azriel's head erupted like a thunderclap.

And a dagger for the fool.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eleven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: This one is a short one. Technically, it should have gone at the end of the last chapter, but it felt right putting it on its own. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the next chapter right after so you won't be waiting long lmao

I'm so excited already to get to Act Two where all the pain and angst is, where Simon is Ghost and I can torture you all with tears o3o Alas, I have more of Act One to get through lololol

Placebo - Come Home

Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to

Every sky is blue, but not for me and you

Come home, come home, come home, come home

Glass of petrol vodka gin, it feels like breathing ethane Throw yourself from skin to skin, and still it doesn't dull the pain Vanish like a lipstick trace, it always blows me away

Every cloud is grey, with dreams of yesterday

Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home

Always goes against the grain, and I can try and deny it Give a monkey half a brain, and still he's bound to fry it Now the happening scene is dead, I used to want to be there too

Every sky is blue, but not for me and you

Come home, come home, come home, come home Come home, come home, come home, come home

Charlotte lay there stiffly, the sun starting to shine through the window. She hadn't slept at all, she hadn't been able to knowing Simon was being shipped off so soon. She felt a lot of things she couldn't quite make sense of, but the biggest one was sadness. Six months was a long time to not be able to see him and she was so used to his presence in her life that she knew she was going to struggle to be on her own again. 

It was stupid really, she’d known from the beginning he was military and yet she hadn't even thought about him being deployed, it hadn't even crossed her mind. The emotion weighed her down and clogged up her throat and she knew she was being dramatic and stupid. Or maybe she wasn't since they were official now. She was right to worry about her boyfriend being in a warzone, right? She wouldn't know, her last boyfriend had been a lazy twat. 

Simon was fast asleep, soft and deep steady breaths brushing the back of her neck while his arm lay heavily over her waist. He had to be up at 5am, had to leave by 6. Looking at the clock, she saw it was 4.30 and her heart dropped at what little time they had left. She was sure her eyes were red due to lack of sleep and maybe, just maybe, she'd silently cried a few times in the night. There were a lot of disjointed thoughts in her brain over this situation but it always came back to the same one. What if he doesn't make it home? 

The idea made her heart go cold and she clenched her jaw tightly as she willed her tears to stay away. She knew deep down what she felt for Simon was more intense than what she was used to. Was this real love? She thought she'd loved Ethan but it had been fleeting and barely there and really didn't take long before it was gone. This was something else. There had been a connection with him since the moment they met, some kind of tether pulling them together. She'd never really believed in soul mates and the whole red string of fate nonsense but Simon was making her rethink a lot of things. She'd never felt such an instant connection before, never felt things so deeply or so quickly.

It felt far too soon to be even thinking about such things yet, but now knowing he'd be gone for half a year, it felt like her feelings were staring plainly at her. She wouldn't tell him, not yet at least. She had no idea how he'd react and she wouldn't risk messing his head up before he left. She needed his head firmly affixed to his shoulders and working soundly when he was over there because the idea of him coming back in a coffin made her feel sick. Would she even get told? Did his family even know about her? So many thoughts and not enough energy, she felt her lower lip wobble again. 

She took a few deep and shaky inhales to steady herself, she wouldn't get upset in front of him and make him feel bad. This wasn't a guilt trip, she was just feeling far too much. As she glanced at the clock again, she figured she'd get up since the sleep ship had well and truly sailed. She could at least feed him before he was off. She wasn't sure if a full English would be too much, too heavy for the day he was going to have but you couldn't go wrong with some bacon butties. 

Carefully, she tried to extract herself from his grip and started to sit up. His hand snaked back around her though, splaying over her stomach and pulling her back against him with a tired groan. 

“Where d’you think you're goin'?” He asked. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep and she tried to relax even though she felt so tense. 

“Was gonna make some bacon butties for us before you… have to go,” she explained, clearing her throat, trying to shake the emotion that was stuck there. He hummed, the arm around her tightening as he placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck. 

“Five more minutes, yeah?” He asked, not really giving her a choice with his iron grip. She forced herself to relax in his hold, telling herself this would be the last time in six months she'd be waking up in his arms, that he'd be holding her. She wanted to soak it in, to memorize what it felt like. His thumb rubbed circles on the skin of her stomach, his nose rubbing at her neck softly. 

“Gonna miss this,” he admitted quietly. Her breathing stuttered at his honest admission and her body went rigid, blinking rapidly to stop the onslaught of tears that were threatening to break free. 

“Me too,” she replied with a strained voice. He moved then, rolling her over to face him. Those beautiful dark eyes scanned her face, taking in her tired, red eyes that shone from unshed tears. His brows pinched together a little as he let out a heavy sigh. She felt bad at being so openly sad about the situation, not wanting to make the whole thing worse. 

“You not sleep, love?” He asked knowingly. She shook her head, not trusting her voice in that moment when his warm eyes were shining with concern. 

His hand came to her face, a finger trailing across her cheek in a featherlight touch before moving back up and along her temple. It danced across her forehead before sliding down the bridge of her nose, all the way down to the tip and then back up. Her eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling and how gentle his touch was. He mapped out the planes of her face for a moment longer before his fingers then trailed down her neck, down her arm until it reached her hand. He took it gently and her eyes opened once more, watching as he brought it to his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on it. He placed it between them both, his hand still enveloping hers. 

“Wanted to ask somethin'...” He murmured, sounding unsure. It always surprised her when he seemed unsure of himself for a man such as him. 

“What is it?” She asked, watching as his eyes darted across her face. 

“Wanted to know if uh… if you wanted to write to me when I'm over there,” there was something shining behind his eyes she couldn't quite place as he asked but she felt her chest warm up at his words. 

“I'd really like that,” she smiled. 

It was a stupidly romantic thought, one she'd never really considered. She'd always been a bit of a romantic deep at heart but she hadn't been able to pay much mind to it outside of indulging herself in sappy romance novels. Her life hadn't had a place for romance in the past and yet the soldier in front of her had been quite romantic in their short time together. The flowers on her nightstand were proof of that. A handsome smile tugged at his lips at her answer and he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers firmly. It was a chaste kiss, one that carried a deep longing and yearning from the separation they both knew was coming. 

“I should make breakfast,” she murmured when he pulled away. She didn't really want to get out of bed, to leave his presence, but she knew time was running out. She wanted to see him off with a full stomach, she wouldn't be selfish. He opened his mouth and she had a strong feeling he'd been going to protest, so she quickly darted out of bed. She knew it wouldn't take her much convincing to abandon her plans of feeding him to stay in bed with him instead. 

She sorted herself out in the bathroom before swiping his jumper off the floor, sliding it over her head to stave off the cold and to enjoy the deep, spicy scent she loved so much. She padded over to the drawers to get a fresh pair of knickers before moving over to the kitchen. She busied herself with making the food but her eyes kept darting to the clock. The ticking felt louder and louder with each passing second, like it was mocking her and her aching heart. 

She heard Simon rummaging around in his bag but she left him to get ready as she tried to get the bacon just how he liked it. He slid behind her, something she noticed he seemed to love to do, not that she minded, and wrapped his arms around her. One of his hands slid up inside of the jumper to lay over her bare stomach. It wasn't a sexual touch, but one of intimacy and she felt her body melt into him as she tried to continue with the food. It made her feel a little better that he seemed to want to be attached to her, like maybe she wasn't the only one bothered by the whole thing. 

“Alright, foods ready,” she murmured, putting it on the plates. He released her then, grabbing the plates for the pair of them before he went over to the couch. Nothing good was on tv at this time so she just left some cheesy infomercials on while they ate in a tense silence. His leave was like a dark cloud looming over them both. He finished before her and once she was done, he grabbed both of their plates and put them on the coffee table in front of him out of the way. 

“Come here, love,” he held his hand out to her, gesturing with his head for her to come to him and she did without thought. She was careful when she moved to straddle him that her bare thighs didn't scrape on his belt now he was decked out in his fatigues ready to go. She settled into him and he used his hand on the back of her head to guide it to his shoulder. One of her hands clutched his t-shirt, the other wrapped around him as she snuggled into him, breathing in his scent deeply. 

“Just wanna hold you for a bit, yeah?” he asked and his soft and gentle tone broke something inside of her. She felt the lump expand in her throat and she pressed her face into his neck as the waterworks started. She felt so stupid, she promised herself she’d wait until he was gone. He didn't need the drama. 

“Lottie… Don’t cry… please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he held her tighter, the hand on her head pressing her closer to him. 

“I’m sorry… just ignore me, I’m being stupid,” she sobbed pitifully, her chest stuttering as she tried to suppress them to no avail. 

”It's not stupid, love,” he chided but she didn't reply as she stayed put, crying into his neck. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I’m gonna miss you, as well?” he asked and she scrunched her face up at the pain that lanced through her chest. His fingers massaged her scalp and she wished it would soothe her but it didn't. 

“Or that I’ll be thinkin’ of you every day I’m over there? That I have somethin’ to look forward to, comin’ back to you?” he finished and there was a weight in his tone that made her sit up, looking at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes looked troubled at her emotional state and she wiped her eyes quickly, trying to compose herself. The idea that he’d miss her and was already looking forward to coming back to her eased the knot in her chest somewhat.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry,” she sniffled, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She really hadn’t mean to be so emotional in front of him. He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the residual tears that lay there.

“Don’t need to be sorry, love,” he said firmly, giving her a look that told her he meant it. She was just used to always apologizing for things, it was second nature to her. A habit he was trying to help her break. 

She lay one of her hands over his that was still on her cheek, tilting her head to lean into him, seeking out his warmth. He watched her for a long moment, those piercing brown eyes feeling like they could see down to her very soul. She wished she could know what went on in that head of his sometimes. She felt like she was so easy to read and half the time with Simon, she felt lost. 

His eyes cut from her to the clock on the wall, a deep frown pulling at his brows that told her it was time. She felt like she’d been sucker punched in the chest. He looked back at her then, his mouth opening and closing for a moment as if he couldn't figure out what to say.

“I uh… I always felt like I was livin’ life in the dark. Just goin’ through the motions, gettin’ on with it. But then… then you came along and suddenly everythin’ was bright light. Every fuckin’ dark corner of my miserable life was lit up and you chased all the shadows away…” his words were rushed as if he was just spewing his thoughts as they came to him and her heart felt like it stopped beating entirely. 

Had she really made him feel that way? Did he really like her that much? She felt like he had to be talking about someone else, she felt like she hadn’t done much to get him to feel that way. But his warm and soft gaze told her he was indeed talking about her. 

“I’m really glad I have you in my life, Simon,” she admitted, not having such poetic words as he did but hoping it got the message across. A few things flit across his face at a pace she couldn't keep up with but then he smiled and it seemed like his dark eyes were glowing amber. 

“I’m glad too, love,” he replied fondly, stroking her cheek again before he moved his hand. She knew that was her cue, knew he didn't really want to say the words that he had to leave. She didn't want to make this harder on either of them so she got up, feeling the cold already. She hovered near the door as she watched him fuss about his duffel bag for a moment before he came over to her with a handful of t-shirts. He handed them out to her and she took them, raising a brow.

“What are these?” she asked even though she knew what they were and she should have been asking why he was giving them to her. He shifted on his feet, running a hand through his short hair.

“I… I haven't washed ‘em. I know you like to sleep in ‘em so I thought…” he trailed off and she felt a blinding warmth hit her suddenly in her chest. It was so thoughtful she almost burst into tears again. She brought the pile of tops up to her face, burying her nose in them for a moment to confirm they really did smell like him. It was so overwhelmingly comforting. 

“Thank you,” she swallowed thickly, her eyes shining with unshed tears and his face told her he fully understood how much she appreciated the gesture. 

“Could I…” his mouth floundered, his cheeks turning a light pink color that she never got sick of seeing on him. It was rare he blushed but she was still shocked he blushed at all. “Could I have one of yours?” he finally spat out, unable to look at her. She wanted to make a witty quip about how it wouldn't fit him to sleep in but she could see it took a lot for him to ask her that. She wanted him to be able to talk to her or ask her for anything, no judgment. So instead, she nodded eagerly, moving to the wash basket. There was a t-shirt in there that hadn’t been washed yet and she moved over to her nightstand, spraying her perfume on it for good measure. She padded back over to him, handing him the shirt and he gratefully took it, stuffing it into his bag quickly as if he was trying to hide evidence. 

“I’m keeping this for now too,” she remarked cheekily, tugging at the soft jumper she’d commandeered from him earlier. She wanted to lighten the mood a little before he left and she didn't want him feeling so self-conscious around her. It seemed to work as his lips quirked up in that lopsided smile she was so fond of.

“Guess I’ll let you since I won’t need it,” he huffed playfully and she smiled up at him. 

His eyes danced around her face for a moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss. It started off gentle but it was like a sudden urgency had come over him. He grasped her face, deepening the kiss as he explored every inch of her mouth. She moaned softly, clutching onto him for dear life as he tried to suck the soul out of her body. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a whole fucking experience and when he pulled away she felt like she was in another dimension. She blinked slowly up at him and a proud smirk graced his face. It didn't last too long though as the reality seemed to hit him again at the time.

“I’ll let you know the address to write once I get back to base,” he said and she nodded. She was eager to write to him, it was better than no contact at all. She quickly moved to wrap her arms around his middle, squeezing him one last time. His arms wrapped around her like snakes trying to constrict her as he pressed his nose into her hair.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he murmured and she nodded, giving him one last squeeze before she reluctantly let him go.

“I’ll see you soon, Simon,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wobbling and failing miserably. 

He gave her one last sad look before he turned and left through the door, jogging down the steps. She shut the door quickly, leaning against it as a sob ripped from her throat again. She knew she needed to get it all out after trying to keep herself in check in front of him. So she allowed herself to cry it out, to feel every shitty emotion she was feeling, because she’d never get through six whole months if she tried to bottle it up. 

[k2ntoss]

A NICE EX !!! DESTIEL

tw ⭒ none, just destiel angst and them being exes ):

a/n ⭒ i think is was just time for me to write something angsty about my little boyfies, yk.... i hope you enjoy my written through tears shit, i listened to the whole smithereens album while choking my sobs, sorry in advance

words count ⭒ idk, i'll stop doing this bc it makes my head ache lmao

castiel is a nice ex, the kind of ex anyone would love to have because he doesn't talk shit about the person he loved with all of him even when he's not feeling okay.

castiel isn't sleeping because he knows he'll dream with those pretty forest green eyes that used to look at him like he was perfect, he knows he'll hear that raspy and soft voice telling him how much he means. it's been nights when not even the warmth of his covers helped, lights turned off and even low and soft music playing on the background but sleep never came.

it had been over half a year, seven months, three days and ten hours to be precise and he counted every passing second, because he was still friends with sam and even with charlie, there was times when he called them and he could hear dean calling their names from afar, cas voice trembled before he said goodbye almost at the second he heard him.

it was hard, the few times sam had invited castiel to drink something with him he would tell him how's dean been doing, he had someone new and it was one of his past loves; a girl named cassie, how ironic but cas was happy for him because dean was doing fine, or so he thought.

"so... he's doing fine, right?" castiel asks, charlie is sitting by his side, her hand on his arm for some sort of comfort while sam looks at him and sighs "yeah, pretty much fine so maybe you should try going out yourself, dude" he urges, his tone is soft because sam knows how hard this is for cas.

"you're dreamy, cas, i know no person would resist you" charlie gives him a smile, she has always had a pretty way to bring a light to anyone who needed it and here he was, not smiling but letting a soft hum escape his lips before he took a sip from his beer "i don't think i'm ready for something like that yet"

"well, you don't have to actually engage into something too serious, cas" sam tells him and he knows that's true but he has never liked the thought of a one night stand to forget a broken heart "mhm, i don't think that's a good idea" and cas is drinking his whole bottle to try and push away the idea of touching or kissing someone who wasn't dean.

the memories of the last day they were together, the day dean broke up with him are still playing fresh on his mind and it brings a stingy feeling to his chest, a burn to his eyes and a knot to his throat. the night died and cas left that bar where he was with sam and charlie, walking to his house with easy steps, his body feeling dizzy as he remembered how dean looked at him that day, his green eyes flooded with tears and his face red because the conversation escalated to a heated argument.

dean felt like cas had changed, he was different and he tried to hard to do anything and everything by himself, keeping his problems and pretty much any issue he might have for him, never letting dean help or at least listen and well, castiel could solve almost every problem which made him feel good, superior to a lot of people until that started to get home with him, where he would push dean away with a smug smirk to do whatever his boyfriend was doing before just to look at him with an attitude that made dean feel a bit useless.

months were like that, every passing day it became worse for him and cas could feel how it wasn't as perfect as before because dean wouldn't be all giddy to see him at the end of the day, he would just greet him with a short grunt or a quick hug, the love was still there bu it felt so hard to act on it.

"is something going on?" cas voice was soft, his weight on the bed making dean look at him for a couple seconds before he went back to read his book "not at all, everything's just fine" and that was their night talk, he'll turn off the night lamp and turn around to sleep, shifting away when cas's hand tried to reach his waist to pull him closer "it's hot, let's not sleep like that tonight" was one of dean's excuses.

castiel knew something was off, that dean wasn't the same as before but what was different? he was just trying to be better, he was trying to show the world that he wasn't as naive and dumb as everyone thought, he wasn't a mere soldier and that he could do things on his own but that wasn't how it looked for his lover, little did cas knew that it was killing them slowly and painfully.

"i can't keep doing this, castiel, do you think it's fine?" dean's voice was loud, he had just arrived from work and cas tried to talk about their problems "do you know what the main problem here is? it's you, you're fucking all this up" words filled with poison and rage, it was all on his chest and castiel felt the realization "dean, i don't know what you mean, i'm trying to do all of this for us" and the calm tone on his words, the way he seemed to be so oblivious of their issues made him feel angrier.

"you're just doing this for you, man, does it makes you feel so good? it's a fucking pain in the ass, you look like you saw yourself as some kind of god and i hate it, castiel" dean was right in front of him, his index pressed on his chest "i hate all of this, what we've become it's not what i want and it's driving me insane" every single word felt like a stab.

"this is not what i deserve and i'm fucking serious" and castiel knows he's damn right, deep inside him he knew it and he had to let dean go so he couldn't hurt him anymore "i won't come back, this is how it ends" dean walks away and he can see the two bags that wait on the hallway, just like that dean walks away. the engine of the impala roars on the sidewalk and that's the only signal he has.

he had lost dean.

castiel kept playing this scene over and over again each night, when he was walking to his home after a long day at work his words would go around his mind like a broken record but this time it was different because his body went into automatic pilot as soon as he went out of the bar.

his feet walking on their own and he wasn't aware until a voice shook him off his slumber "cas?" that voice and the way his shortened name slipped out of his lips, his heartbeat running wild on his chest he was so sure dean could hear it.

there he was, holding a small shoebox with a bunch of casettes on it right in front of the black chevy impala. still beautiful, still dean winchester. forest green eyes bore into his blue ones and he tried to say something.

"what are you doing here?" he asked softly, not even cas knew it because he never noticed until he called.

"uh, i'm not really sure" his answer came out hoarse, his voice as low as always while he tilted his head a little trying to find out how he ended up standing right in front of the love of his life "it's good to see you're doing fine"

"yeah, fine... i'm doing fine" dean said, a small scoff escaping his lips "you're doing fine, cas?" he asked after leaving the box on baby's roof.

"not really, it's been a hard long time" castiel says looking away, he can feel dean's gaze on him and he fights the urge to get close, to hug him and not let go off him ever again "heard you're happy without me, i hope it's true... it hurts but it's okay, i could handle all the pain in the universe if it was for you"

and dean knows it's true, he knows how much castiel would do for him but he doesn't know where did that got lost before they broke up.

cas thought it would be dumb of him to wait for an answer, he knew dean was doing fine without him so he just walked past him. his hand patting his shoulder when he stood for a second by his side "you know i'd still die for you"

and he left, dean turned around just to look at his figure walking away from him. he wasn't doing fine either, nights were darker and not even cassie could fill the emptiness castiel left. he was left alone once again.

[awesamforehead]

Tag at least six people (can be more than six if you want), and say at least one nice thing about or to each of them. Can be mutuals, can be people you follow, can be people you don’t know but just happen to exist in the same circle(s) with. All you gotta do is tag them and say something nice about/to them :)

Thank you @mahikamihan (the nicest and sweetest person here) for the tag! Ignore that its been a few days shhhh I was actually thinking of doing this on my priv but then this showed up so perfect opportunity :D Its a big one so everyone will be under a read more so Im not clogging the dash

@gogtopia Jules, you were the first person I followed when I was revamping my blog last year, the first person that came to mind on who I knew was safe post October. Although this was long ago, I really enjoyed the discussions we had about lore and such on discord that was a fun time. And now you're on the path of getting my into The Yard more too lol

@i-anonymous-crow Crow crow crow crow. You were the first (literally the first) people to follow me and it was all because I was crying over the Las Nevadas gift for ckarlnapity. And since then we've cried some more together. And now we're here, thank you for giving me a chance

@foolishfreckles Moss my beloved. Actually one of the chillest people I know and a really great clipper. Another person who has been here since pretty much the beginning (like when I had 20 followers) and one of my biggest supporters. If you arent already following Moss what are you doing. I also love the Foolish screenies you try to get every stream

@traidyy LUCKY!!!!!!! :D SWEETEST PERSON AND GREAT ARTIST THEIR ART IS SO CUTE. also a karl fan so thats 1000 more attractive points. But actually one of my favorite people here, wuv u Lucky <3 the dog to my cat

@sapybara INY!! Somehow you are the most rational but also the most chaos inducing person here and I love you for that. Whenever dash is all fucky and im beginning to spiral, your post are usually the ones who help pull me back up. Also your sapybara pfp is the cutest thing ever.

@vadergf REY REY! The would be drolo of my heart and the realest person when it comes to the green man. Your anons are hilarious and your art is so cute, no matter what you might say. Also thank you for supporting me like with the dteam hourly account i really appreciate it

@simplepotatofarmer Loyal! :D this is a thank you for always wanting and trying to make the fandom a better place. So many people give you the worst shit and yet you try to give second chances and show kindness. Thats something very rare to find nowadays. I love your aus like the rabbit and black dog au, and your chicken posts are some of my favorite things (all hail dream (chicken) )

@toxicsapolo Hi Salty! The og sapolo, the one who paved the way. Even though I have no idea what you and Adora are talking about with the F1 fandom, Ive admired how passionate you are when it comes to your interests. Sapnap, fashion, cooking, your boyfriend.

@tinynap JO!!! Your liveblogs never fail to make me laugh, even if half of them give you a tummy ache. I also want to say im proud of you trying your best at college, even at your roughest nights. You're gonna do great, kid

@dralbum NIICCCKKK!!! Ok not only is your art gorgeous and gives the softest feeling, you are also one of the funniest motherfuckers here. I enjoy our time on privtwt where we ask to eat each others food lmao

@faehrys ARIA MY ARIA!!! Not only an awesome editor, but also an awesome person. I appreciated how you tried to keep a positive space during the rough time, but also knowing when to stand your ground. And as always, karl enjoyer so extra cool points :>

@negativepeanuthoarder PEANUT!!! A true squirrel in which they stick around and make a home in your heart. You are always the loudest supporter in my writing and I really appreciate that, especially on the harder days

@knffuckraw ACE!!! Another funny person here and also representing the inner haikyuu fans (along with Iny). You have the greatest comebacks for anons and the funniest tags. love you ace <3

@dreamnotnapss First, a thank you for your services they’re greatly appreciated and you be missed by many. Second, a thank you for supporting everyone you could within our circle and even beyond. We’ll remember you fondly

@selvish HI TENDER!! we interact much more on twitter lol but youre one of my favorite people, big karl enjoyer and created some of my favorite fics like Y&OY, Rules, Favorite Place, and when we’re older 💜

@secretkoalasandwich EMMI MY BELOVED. ok tbh when we first started following each other I was so nervous cause you had a Wil pfp but now youre one of my favorite people lol. My brethren of punzblr, always ready to simp with me. Also an amazing artist with the most amazing blending skills youve ever seen youre telling me this is a painting??? anyways 10/10 spectacular amazing wow

@canonicallykayfabe EACHTRA!! Some of the most beautiful art here, both in a more cartoony style and one that holds slight realism. The color choices are fantastic as well. Along with that, you have some really thought provoking posts that I really appreciate like the banter discussion post awhile ago.

@sapnapstummy BLAZE THE KINDEST PERSON HERE 100%. legit i dont think ive ever seen you post a neg post about anything thats impressive. also i want to say i love how youll go back to either dreamtummy or sapnaptummy, so iconic and so true.

@dnapsnfsapnap PIGEON!! We’re semi newish mutuals but I’ll always welcome new sapnap fans into my life. On par with Salty, Jo, and Blaze, you fit right in with the sapolo ideology and i think thats amazing. You can always get the cutest screenies of Sapnap and I love your frog posts as well ^-^

@snfbabydrop Ive said this multiple times but thank you for your work on dreamnotnapss. The safe haven for multishippers in our corner. Aside from that, you are one of the nicest people Ive met here, never let your sunshine get blocked out

Also shoutout to my awesome mutuals who I dont talk to often but still love 💜

[marchingbandtshirt]

In regard to the tags on a previous post, I think it’s about time I come clean about some personal things related to a discord server I had been in and was removed from several months ago, and why. I won’t say everything in this post will be 100% objective or “what really happened,” but it will be at the very least the most honest I can be about the whole situation.

I joined a server sometime last year that was all about the inFAMOUS game series, something I’d gotten back into after the Destiny fixation wore off (which is now back again. lol. lmao even), and very importantly to me it was a server largely focused around the various OCs of its members. I love creating ocs for anything I’m a fan of, and finding a whole community of people for this tiny niche fandom that was geared towards what interests me the most about fan culture was like a dream come true. It was a pretty contained server as well, which was also very nice, as I tend to be overwhelmed easily by large servers even if the culture there is generally positive. The members were all extremely welcoming and friendly towards everyone who joined, which in hindsight just makes me all the more frustrated with myself over what happened, that I would ruin my relationships with so many wonderful people because of my own vices.

To get right down to it, I was removed over sending a controversial piece of nsfw-adjacent writing about my ocs (both over 18, both unrelated, just to be clear). I’m not going to repeat what I’d posted, that will forever remain between me and the locked note sealed away in notes app quarantine. In truth, what I had written hadn’t even been 100% in earnest, it was really just me trying to be “one of the cool kids” with an idea that had been only half-thought out and poorly executed, compounded by the fact that I wrote it all in a blur really late into the night and sent it without thinking. It feels pretty stupid as to why I would do such a thing, looking back on it now, but insecurity’s a hell of a brain poison when you’re in the midst of things.

By “one of the cool kids” I mean that the general server culture around nsfw topics was fairly lax, from my perspective, and it seemed like no one was really afraid to delve into convos or writing around characters’ kinks or sexual situations with various pairings. Since becoming a part of the server, I got the feeling of missing out on something everyone else was enjoying because I wasn’t doing the same, like I was standing outside looking through a window at a fun party everyone was invited to except for me. I’ve been a writer for a while now, but before then I barely had any experience writing about explicit topics or kinks (even my own), and I was admittedly way out of my depth with multiple things I’d written of that caliber that I shared in the server before, including my fateful message. In the moment, it seemed rather harmless, with two of my own characters who both enjoy pushing each others’ buttons in certain ways, but in actuality what I sent ended up making several people who read it uncomfortable with the subject.

To be completely honest, many of the conversations that happened before in the nsfw channel had also made me personally uncomfortable (YKINMKATO), so I just kept it muted, checking it on my own time when I could be in the right headspace. That meant I was largely unaware of any conversation happening around my post at the time until I checked the channel again later and saw multiple people’s comments about it, which in turn made me hastily write a follow-up to try and explain things better in context, but instead that just made everything worse and led to me being removed from the server due to a conversation I was never privy to. I don’t blame the admin or mods or anyone for how they responded at all, in hindsight it was largely deserved, and not just for that reason alone.

I won’t sugarcoat the situation. The way I engaged with the community and the people themselves before then, after the initial bout of anxiety around talking about my characters with others wore off, had frankly become unhealthy for me and unpleasant for everyone else. I let insecurity, jealousy, entitlement, and selfishness go to my head and mix into a really toxic mindset that made me think of it less as a collective of likeminded fans and more as a hierarchy of popularity. Instead of truly engaging in fandom and celebrating others’ creations, I’d just stew and rot in my own emotions because the same amount of “engagement” others had wasn’t happening with me, the most important person in the server (/s). I talked a big game about my own wip and still have next to nothing to show for it (I don’t know if I’ll ever have anything to show for it now, even if I want to). I derailed convos on others’ channels to talk about my own things and steer them towards myself, on several occasions. In general I’d been very inconsiderate and self-absorbed to my fellow fans, and that wasn’t fair for anyone involved. I was just making myself miserable, and as a result I ended up hurting the people I was supposed to call my friends. If not for that message, then it would’ve been just a matter of time before something else got me removed, I’m sure.

There’s really no excuse for my actions given that they caused other people harm. Honestly, if I ever was given a second chance to return, even in good faith, I don’t know if I would. The damage has already been done, and all I can do now is try to amend myself and move forward to do better in the future and not let my insecurities blind me to the positive relationships I do have. But for what it’s worth, if anything at all, I’m sorry.

I really do miss you guys.

[bisluthq]

: Dreams lmao…I feel u and anons girl because I have random swiftwyn dreams at least twice a week and every time I wake up I think they got back together without even thinking about it bc it was so realistic lmfao. It’ll literally be like 4pm and I see something tayvis related and only then I remember 😭😭 make it stop it’s fucking with my head and emotions

Yeah dude my dreams are either wack af like truly surreal bullshit (and that tends to almost be lucid dreaming like I’ll figure out during the course of the dream that it’s a dream and then I’ll have a lot of fun) or like really regular hyperrealistic shit and then those ones confuse the fuck out of me. Like I’ll genuinely be like “oh shit didn’t I make plans with so and so” and then like nope I did not lmao but dream me did. The other one recently was where I told my bf a friend of ours had asked to use the garden for a party and he was like “I don’t think she did” and I was like “yeah I’m pretty sure she did dude and I should’ve checked with you but it’s fine right?” and he was like “just check your messages” and yup I hadn’t spoken to her about that. He was correct. I’d had that happen in a dream and I think the dream stemmed from another friend asking to do that and us saying no lol. Anyway, I’ve had celeb/gossip ones like that too where I read something or y’all say something on this blog and then like it didn’t happen lol as I subsequently discover.

I don’t think it was always like this btw idk it’s more in the last two or so years that I’ve noticed it? What did used to happen to me when I was writing ft is I’d get ideas for articles/pieces in my dreams and then I’d wake up full of beans but by the time I got my laptop out the idea would be gone or like half an idea. My ex tried to get me to journal them or tell her first thing but I could never get that quite right OR my other theory is the ideas weren’t as good as they seemed in my dream lol like so when I was trying to tell her that was actually the idea but it seemed good in my dream and it was kinda stupid out loud 😂 I lean towards the latter because that’s also happened to me when I’m drunk or stoned like I’ll get what seem like deeply creative (kreative really) ideas and I’ll write them down and then when I’m sober, I go to check what I wrote and I’m like “drunk nat you fucking dumbfuck bitch this is what we wasted our time “working” on last night???? This is what you had us do for an hour last night??? Please never take the wheel dude!!”

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #170

Give us a lyric from a song you’ve recently listend to: I'm listening to "Slum Planet" by 3TEETH right now and the lyric just said was "no one wins in this human race."

Why did you cry the last time you did? I learned about diabetic comas and started fearing that one day it'll happen to Mom while she's asleep with how violently her blood sugar plummets. My anxiety was so fucking bad that night, I had so much trouble falling asleep.

Have you donated blood in the last 2 years? No, but I actually plan on doing it with Girt this Sunday, it completely depends on what my blood pressure is at the time of the appointment; it's almost always alarmingly low EVERY time I get it checked, like it's just normal for me (partially because of a med), so there is a very real chance of me being turned down. But I'm still going with him regardless though, he loves when he gets the chance to do it (drives are coincidentally almost always on work days for him lol) and I fucking love that.

What is your relationship with the last person to comment you? Like, on a social media? Facebook is telling me Ashley, my boyfriend's sister.

Who was the last person to sit on your bed? Me, I still do certain physical therapy exercises lying and sitting on it.

Do you have a favorite flower? Orchids, pink tulips (I don't really care about non-pink ones that much), dahlias, hydrangeas, roses, etc. I just adore flowers.

Would you rather be stuck on a desert island with your ex or a python? HA give me the fucking python, at least the snake won't make me feel like literal trash. Besides, a python is not going to be able to eat me and with that fact it'd have no interest in bothering me, and I'd leave it alone too. Don't villainize snakes.

Name three objects within your reach? My water bottle, planner, and Girt's work schedule for like an entire year lmao. He gave it to me for the convenience of planning hanging out days and I think he also knows I just like knowing where he is, especially if my anxiety is high and I can't immediately reach him.

Would you get a shamrock tattooed to your forehead for $5,000? Gah, that money is FUCKING TEMPTING, but I just couldn't.

Where was the last place you went that was more than an hour away? Why were you going there? A city two hours away that is where Girt's grandmother is at a nursing home. We were celebrating her birthday; that day wasn't her actual birthday, but it's a day that worked for the family to get together. It meant a lot to be there, because odds are it was her last.

Who was the last person to tell you you looked nice? Girt, I think?

Do you know a schizophrenic person? Girt's mother, and I know of my schizophrenic half-sister.

Name the last 3 people you kissed and list one nice thing about each one. Girt is very polite, Sara was very creative, and Tyler, uh... he was sweet?

Are you friends with a Conner? No, I don't even know one.

What is the last thing you spoke to your father about? He sent me a picture of his cat Louie chilling with a deer in he and his wife's backyard. I'm against letting your cat free-roam outdoors, but regardless it was very cute and I said so. He was just sitting chilling while the deer grazed.

Ever suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? I literally have it, yeah.

During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? I genuinely don't think any hell a god could make could be worse than what 2016 was for me. Every waking moment I wanted to be dead, and when I slept my dreams were always the same: extremely painful and focused on Jason and how we'd never be what we were again.

Have you ever seen a bluejay in person? Yes, I love them. I used to collect bluejay feathers while I dated Jason actually, because his nickname from his dad was always "J Bird," and I called him that sometimes too.

Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? My nephew Ryder.

Who makes you smile the most often? Girt.

Do you remember the first person you felt sexually attracted to? In a completely serious context, Jason.

Of all of your friends’ significant others, who do you get along with best? And least? I don't really know my friends' s/os, at least not on a personal level.

Have you ever had a platonic friend that everyone insisted you should be in a relationship with? YUP, GIRT. Finally happened lmao, bomb-ass decision.

Who do you think is the most attractive actor? Probably Jason Momoa lmao, or Johnny Depp.

Have you ever been caught doing something REAL embarrassing by your parents? LOL SURE HAVE AND I WANTED TO PASS AWAY

Do you have any of your neighbors as friends on Facebook? No.

You can only listen to 1 band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? so like...... Rammstein, surprise lmfao

When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? Many months ago when I was pretty convinced Girt was going to leave and I was going to relive the Jason breakup, just with him. I was fucking hysterical, this guy had to hold me as I probably broke his eardrums scream-crying for like, 15 full minutes. The feeling I had in my chest was more awful than I could ever put into words.

Who was the last person you cried in front of? Probably Mom?

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Girt.

Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Yes, in a couple instances where I was mad.

Do you know anyone who has fought in a war? Jason's dad was in the Navy, but idk if he was ever in a combat situation. I know Girt's dad fought in Operation Desert Storm.

Name ONE good memory about your last ex? I very much felt like I could be 200% myself around her.

Do you live near any large rivers or lakes? Yeah, the Tar River is really long, and I live in an area where you regularly cross smaller bridges over it.

Would it annoy you if a stranger called you "sweetie?" This very much depends. I'd say generally no, I tend to like terms of endearment, but if it's some creepy guy that seems very suspect, I'd be uncomfortable.

What's the worst thing you've gone through in the past year? Letting go of and healing from an extremely rotten friendship. Deciding enough was enough with Sara was so fucking not an easy decision, it was fucking excruciating and involved so much hurt, and I regularly questioned if I was a horrible person.

What's the next friend or family birthday coming up? Will you buy them a present? Literally tomorrow is my sister Ashley's 30th, and no, but only because I don't have a source of income. I can't get anything for family and it fucking sucks.

How many beds are in your home? Two in the traditional sense, however we do have a couch that can fold out into a bed. Not a very comfortable one, but it's a bed.

Do you wear face masks in public? I no longer do, not because I don't believe in the effectiveness of masks (because they fucking are effective), but because I think like most people, I've just given up on the concept of us ever getting Covid under control; it's going to be in the human population for probably as long as we live now. A new type of flu, basically. I would wear a mask though if I was sick with Covid-esque symptoms, that's just basic consideration for other humans.

Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? Only Girt; the first time we dated briefly at the end of 2017 I just wasn't ready to be with a man again. I had walls that weren't coming down.

What month of the year was your mother born? August.

Who do you feel most beautiful around? My mom.

Have you ever had a friend that got a bf/gf, and then completely ignored you? Yes, what a coincidence, I was thinking of her last night. We were online friends with a long, very tight friendship, but one day her accounts that I knew of were just gone, and this was very near the time she started dating some guy.

Who is the smartest person you know? Girt.

If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Hell no.

The last two people you kissed, are they virgins? Girt's not, Sara was when I knew her, no clue about now.

How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? We just hung out at my house.

Do you know anyone who owns their own business? Yes, more than one person.

What was the last thing that changed your life completely? Going to physical therapy. I am so fucking happy with all the progress that is still happening, standing is by now generally only uncomfortable versus actually painful. I'm standing more in real-life situations that prove to me how much better my legs have gotten.

What do you normally drink when eating at a fast food restaurant? Usually either Mountain Dew or Coke.

What was the last thing you saw that made you smile? A really cute picture of two of my nieces; Aubree was being an adorable big sister.

Who was the last person you took a photograph with? My niece and sisters.

Did you like the show Invader Zim? Surprisingly I never really watched it, I just thought Gir was cute.

What’s the scariest book you’ve ever read? I've never been scared by a book.

What does your best friend love that you hate? Extremely hard games that generally require hours and hours of failing regularly to get good at it, nameably FromSoft games; I'm quite sure Girt's platinumed/100%ed all of them lmao, meanwhile I couldn't even get to the FIRST BOSS of Bloodborne myself haha, I suck at those games SOOOOOOOOOOO bad. My head nearly exploded when I tried Dark Souls, like I quit pretty damn fast because once a game reaches a certain level of difficulty for me, shit's not fun anymore. Meanwhile Girt's hardheaded as HELL and really gets satisfaction out of figuring out challenges, so FromSoft makes some stuff he really enjoys. What sucks is I LOVE watching the games be played, like Elden Ring is one of the greatest video games ever made in all of history imo, I just don't have the patience for those of its sort as a player. Video games are Girt's "thing" though that he's just super fucking good at.

How well do you know the people you live with? I know my mom very well, and we've been closer than ever lately. I feel our already-strong bond has strengthened quite a bit just from sitting out in the living room with her during dinner more often. She confides in me with a lot of things and has told me how much she appreciates me just listening.

When was the last time you had a conversation with an ex? A few weeks ago with Juan, if you even wanna count him as an ex when we dated for less than a day.

Ever cried while you were on the phone with the last person you kissed? No, we basically never call each other. He's mentioned wanting to but knows I hate phone calls and I'm like you're obviously an exception dude but yeah we don't really talk-talk via the phone.

Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? I have two Cloak shirts, a brand owned by Markiplier and jacksepticeye, and one features the Randler and cockatrice used as symbols for Good Mythical Morning/Rhett & Link.

Do either of your parents have tattoos? No, but my mom wants one based around her kids and grandkids.

For your birthday do people buy you a cake or bake you one? Usually buy.

If your boy/girlfriend wanted to have a sex change, would you support them? Sure would, I'm pansexual anyway so it wouldn't remove my sexual feelings for that person. Like sure it'd obviously be a massive change, requiring adjustments like getting pronouns right, but he/she would have my full support if they felt a sex change would improve their happiness.

What do you think of cannibals? It's gross. I think eating your own species, at least for such developed animals like humans who have consciences that allow us to put meaning into BEING a human, is morally questionable.

[brianllamawrites]

Disrupted Sleep (Harry x Reader)

A/N: It's been a little while! Uni has been keeping me busy but I've finally gotten around to writing something (this one took sooo long to finish lmao). Unsurprisingly, it is yet another fic about sleep haha. I can't guarentee when the next fic will be out but if you want to be tagged in anything feel free to let me know! :)

Word Count: 823

Tagging: @ageless-aislynn @khayrrilrainxwells @mcbenson25

Disturbed by your heavy breathing, a hot bead of sweat slipped down your forehead. With the tips of your fingers, you rubbed your eyes hoping to adjust to the pitch-blackness around you. Exhausted, you let your hand rest on your face for a moment. The room had that autumn chill to it, but your cheeks were still burning. Ugh. Being careful not to disturb the duvet too much, you rolled onto your side and shuffled out from beneath the cover. The cool air was surprisingly unpleasant. With half your face smushed against your pillow, you squinted through the dark towards your bedside clock: Half past one. How was it only half past one?

You shifted onto your back and stared up at the ceiling -- what was a pallid magnolia in the day was now a dark breeding ground for unwanted thoughts. Eyelids were heavy, and eyes were strained, but going back to sleep now felt impossible. You forced a deep breath, struggling with the lump in your throat and your tight chest.

What was it even about? The nightmare happened a mere few minutes ago but the more you tried to remember it, the less it made any sense. It was night. You were alone- Well, almost alone. There was something else in the dark. Running. Hunting. And just as it reached out for you, your eyes shot open and you woke up... Or at least, you were pretty sure you woke up. The distant, quiet hum of a car passing by outside was too real of a detail for it to still be a dream. Surely?

The back of two cold fingers grazed your cheek, sending a chill down your spine. You flinched away and turned your head to meet a rather concerned pair of blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" mumbled Harry, his sweet calm voice filling the silence.

Your heart slowed to a steady pace; Harry always had that effect on you. Through the dark, you could see hints of bags under his eyes -- a  result of the increasingly late nights he was spending at STAR Labs. Bless him. He was always so determined to help everyone out that he often forgot to take care of himself.

You shot him a forced smile. "Yeah, of course."

"You're awake at half one in the morning."

"So are you."

"Y/N," he quietly grumbled, seeing straight through your façade.

You really didn't want him to spend his first work-free night in ages wide awake and worrying about you. 

"I'm fine, really, I just..."

Harry wrapped the duvet over you and slid his hand across your stomach, hooking around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You couldn't help but nuzzle against his chest -- a place where no nightmarish monsters could get you. You were safe. Truly.

If only you had Harry by your side in your dream, whatever was after you would have found itself meeting a gruesome end, whilst you would find yourself with your lips against your dazzling hero. Oh, what a dream that would have been.

"I think I had a nightmare." You spoke into the fabric of Harry's top, hoping it would somehow absorb the shakiness of your voice. It was leftover fear. Fear that was quickly dissipating away with every rise and fall of Harry's chest against your cheek.

"You never have much luck when it comes to sleeping, do you?" Harry murmured.

His soft lips pressed against the top of your head and his arms squeezed tight, ridding you of the last few memories of that dreaded nightmare. He was the perfect level of cosy warmness, not hot enough to make your warm cheeks feel fiery again, but certainly warm enough to fend off the autumn chill surrounding the two of you. It was enough to lull you back to the verge of sleep -- especially with Harry's gentle, rhythmic breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

You could picture it now, a horrid shadow monster with pure shock on its face as Harry stepped in between you and it. Harry would have his pulse rifle on him -- as always -- and he'd have it poised in the air as if it weighed nothing, partnered with that overly confident smirk of his. The nightmarish monster wouldn't stand a chance. And after all was said and done, Harry would sling the rifle around his shoulder before bringing his hands to your waist. Your lips would be inches apart, a sweet kiss waiting on the horizon to see which one of you would break eye contact first. Yes. That would be a good dream.

You were so close to letting your eyes stay closed for the rest of the night that you almost didn't hear Harry ask once more if you were alright. In your defence, he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was about to fall asleep as well.

"Yeah," you mumbled, "I think I'm gonna be just fine."

[babylonia-after-hours]

Winner Takes All, Part 1 [Yandere Regrator x thief darling x Yandere Yelan]

Disclaimer I have no idea how long this will be, but I had a crazy idea involving Pantalone and Yelan and a little thief for a darling.

(I am so sorry my readers have so much lore lmao)

@ddarker-dreams, @yandere-romanticaa, I hope you don't mind my tagging you two

~

The night’s smoke still burned your lungs as you were thrown to the floor of a new room. Wooden, nice quality by the feel of it, even as it collided violently with the side of your face. The edge of a carpet pressed into your cheek. Your arms and legs had been bound and you were blindfolded, though you were sure that you wouldn’t recognize your surroundings if you’d been able to see. As such, your oh so gracious guards had dragged you to whoever’s office and thrown you to the floor with as much grace as could have been expected.

“You’re not nearly as fun to watch when you’re tied up like that,” a voice mused, smooth and even. “Leave me with them.”

“Milord,” one of your guards tried.

“You think someone like that would let you throw them around like that?” he the voice purred. “I have faith in your ability to do something as simple as restrain a thief to the point where I can safely interact with them. Unless I shouldn’t?”

“No, no Milord,” the other guard stuttered. “The thief has been restrained as you requested.”

“Good. Now, you two must be curious as to why I wanted to speak to our dear guest, yes?”

“W-well-,” the first guard began, breaking off with a yelp.

“It’s not our place to ask,” his partner broke in, “but even I must admit to curiosity.”

“You two studied under our dearly departed Rosalyne, didn’t you? It shows.” The boss gave a low chuckle. “Well, I’ll tell you anyhow. They put on quite the show last night, didn’t they? Such a graceful sword style on a lowly thief, surely there must be something more there. I can hardly bear to think such a lovely art has fallen to the petty criminals.”

The guards didn’t respond, and you could only imagine the mute nodding and nervous glances they must have been exchanging.

“Leave us now,” the voice told them. “I wish to speak with our dear guest alone.”

The guards hesitated, but left with a reluctant “Yes sir.”

Without waiting for permission, you sat up, tucking your legs beneath you to sit seiza. “Shall I take off that blindfold?” he mused, coming standing up with a sigh of shifting fabric. “I must admit I was struck by the way your eyes glow.”

“What does it matter?” you ask, debating whether or not you could spit on his shoes blind.

“I suppose it doesn’t, does it? Now, what does matter is how you managed to find that particular shipment.”

At this, your mouth twists into a sneer. “We thieves have our ways. You know that.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re alluding to, dear, now please be cooperative lest I lose my patience.”

And all you could do was laugh. “To answer your question, the local Treasure Hoarders were getting agitated, so something good must have been on the way. I will tell you, I had a really shady contact. Never worked with the buyer before. Sold the lot of ‘em to her for half again market price. But the Fatui ought to know better than to smuggle precious stones and metals in Liyue.”

“Seems careless to me, that you wouldn’t at least confirm your contact’s reliability.”

You laughed again. “You assume I’m some normal criminal, stealing for the money. I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie. The money’s nice, and I got paid handsomely, but mostly I just like causing trouble.” Just thinking about it, you could feel your blood heating up. Had he been any less important than he seemed to be, you might have attacked him just to see what he’d do. “So, I don’t particularly care. The threat of getting caught is part of the fun.”

“You’re a foolish creature,” he mused, mulling over your words. “A foolish, lovely thing. I should like to keep you.” He snapped his fingers, an idea striking him. “I know. We’ll have you make another bargain with that buyer of yours.”

You shook your head a little. “She’s not the kind of person someone in our line of work deals with twice unless we want to get caught.”

“Do you not?”

“You think I want to rot in a cell? You’re not very good at this, are you?”

“It’s been a long time since I was your run-of-the-mill pickpocket, yes. I’ve moved on to grander things.” Suddenly he was in your face, you could feel how close he was. You wrinkled your nose at the cologne he was wearing. He took your face in one hand, fingers digging mercilessly into your cheeks. With his other hand, he removed your blindfold. “What?” he asked as his teeth came into focus. “Don’t like it?”

He was pretty, as men sometimes are, and you immediately hated it. Clean well-dressed, and yet he didn’t even deny coming from the same place as you, beginning an illustrious career as a pickpocket. Well, not exactly the same place.

But he didn’t know he wasn’t like you. “Hate it,” you replied easily. “I didn’t grow up caring about being rich.”

“Interesting. So you didn’t grow up a street wench, I assume?”

“Probably not,” you allowed, only growing angrier when his mouth pulled up into a pretty, smug little smirk, grip easing enough to no longer be painful.

“You amuse me, really. It’d be a shame to let you go or kill you.”

You leaned back a little, hoping to put some space between you. “I’d almost rather you killed me,” you muttered, not particularly caring if he heard you.

He probably picked up on this, and leaned forward into your personal space, at the same time, pulling your face closer. You barely suppressed a flinch that he undoubtedly noticed as he placed his forefinger and thumb over your left eye socket, admiring it like a fresh-cut jewel. “You do have such pretty eyes,” he purred, pressing his fingers into the soft flesh, a silent threat. “Maybe I’ll keep one in a jar if I don’t get to keep all of you.”

~

“Just the person I was hoping to see.”

You scowled. You knew that girl was trouble the moment you laid eyes on her. The fur coat, the jade bracelet that missed its pair, she was openly far too wealthy to be some girl, and yet no one knew her name. “What do you need?” you asked, putting on your work face.

“Now, now, let’s be friendly here. I know who you are, and I’m looking to make a deal with you.”

You click your tongue, turning to face her, leaning back on the bar. This had Tianshu fingerprints all over it. “What kind of deal?” you asked.

The woman sat down beside you, unconcerned, and ordered drinks for the two of you. “What will it be for you tonight?” she asked. “On me, as a gesture of goodwill.”

“A classic mijiu will do,” you replied, unsurprised and unimpressed when she called a top-shelf brand.

“I work with the Ministry of Civil Affairs,” she said, daintily swirling her cocktail, feigning indifference.

“I figured as much,” you told her. “What does the Ministry want with me?” You were sure they were trying to arrest you but you weren’t going to bring it up until they did.

“Because you’re talented,” she said with a knowing little half-smile.

“I’m not the only stray in Liyue that knows how to use a sword,” you reply. “Surely there’s better qualified people than-,” you wave your hand in a gesture to yourself, “this.”

“That’s precisely why I wanted to speak with you. After your father was convicted, we know your siblings moved to Sumeru, where your family’s savings continue to support them, but you disappeared besides a few chance sightings.”

You frowned into your tea. “I’m sure you can imagine why I out of all my siblings want to stay out of the public eye.”

“Naturally,” she agreed, all sympathy. “Though I suspect this is the best offer you're going to get, considering how you've chosen to make your living.”

You clicked your tongue, irritated. “I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear this offer before we make assertions.”

At this, she laughed. “I like you. Well here it is. We’ll sponge your record if you become our eyes and ears in the underworld.”

You frowned at her. “I hope you don’t expect me to start a gang.”

She laughed again. “Of course not. We just want someone that can move freely with the less-than-savories, you understand?”

“Hmph.” You couldn’t exactly refuse. She knew who you were, and what you do. Probably had a tail on you if you tried to slip out. “Fine,” you said with a sigh. “What’s the catch?”

She swirled her drink in her glass. “There isn’t one, really. You just report to the Tianshu.”

“I knew it,” you muttered. “Let me guess, you’re the next Tianshu?”

At this, she seemed to be caught off-guard. “Now what makes you think that?”

You shrugged, sipping lightly off your drink. “The public doesn’t know a lot about the Tianshu. I was born into an old martial clan. You work for the Ministry, and yet no one recognizes you. It’s not difficult to put together.”

The woman had gathered herself by now, and was smiling again. “I knew I made the right call. Your decision?”

You scowled. “It’s hardly a decision if I don’t really have a choice. Bring me a written contract.”

She smiled. “That’s what I like to hear. My name is Yelan, the next Tianshu of the Liyue Qixing.”

You waved at her, almost dismissive. “Just tell me where to meet you.”

“How does Xinyue Kiosk sound?” she asked, immediately relaxing into a friendly sort of chat.

You gaped at her. “Even before my father was arrested, do you think I have something to wear to Xinyue?” you asked, incredulous.

“Fair enough, I didn’t really think of that,” she said in a way that seemed to you that she certainly had. “How about Third-Round Knockout? Or Wanmin?”

“Third-Round Knockout is fine,” you sighed, feeling rather like you were getting into much more trouble than a clean record was worth.

~

“I’m sorry to give you such a risky assignment on your first day, but I heard a little rumor that there was a large shipment of precious stones and metals getting smuggled by the Fatui.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “It’s bad enough you want to make a career criminal of me,” you coughed, scowling at Yelan. “I’m not getting involved with the Fatui.”

“I only need you to confirm it. Feel free to cause them some trouble if you’d like. The Ministry will pay you half again market price if you can retrieve the goods, but prioritize your safety.”

You liked to think you weren’t a money grubber, but half again market price for a shipment of valuables… Well, you were Liyuen. Gold ran in your veins as much as it did anyone else’s. “We’ll see,” you allowed. “When and where?”

Yelan laughed. “So direct. I like that about you.”

You glared at her again. “What do I have to defend?”

She waved off the question. “Lingju Pass. In a fortnight, according to my intel.”

So, she was testing you. Fine.

“Not like I really have a choice,” you muttered.

She beamed at you. “That’s what I like to hear.”

[nemeseos-noctua]

Hey darlings! Can I request Xiao, Albedo and Diluc separately carrying reader around for a day because of a bet they lost? Love yall! <3

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: diluc, albedo, xiao (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not proofread

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: THIS TOOK SO LONG I’M SO SORRY ANON (i was busy and didnt feel like writing anything for like a month ☹ but im back and ill try and write more, esp since my school year ends in like a month and a half)

oh you could see so much 

Diluc was so tall.... it was great 

“is this what height feels like?”

despite you enjoying every second of it, the pyro typhoon was slowly suffering

HIS REPUTATION !! WHAT HAPPENS TO HIS REPUTATION ???

the answer is nothing (except that Donna is jealous and pissed)

“How much longer are we going to have to do this for?”

“The whole day, obviously! That was the bet!” you cheered, clearly enjoying where you were currently. His suffering for your enjoyment.

The red-haired man sighed and continued walking around, eventually drifting over to the giant tree in the middle of Windrise. 

He stops next to the base of the oak tree, slightly lowering himself down. You weren’t exactly surprised that he could carry your weight, since he wields a giant claymore as a weapon, but you couldn’t feel not just the tiniest bit bad for him.

you guys were playing a guessing game as Diluc took a shift at Angel’s Share last night

“how much is venti gonna drink tonight”

you won, obviously

that damn bard drank at least 50,000 mora’s worth in dandelion wine

HE DOESNT EVEN PAY FOR IT IN MORA 

and thats how you lose money in a business, children

You lowered yourself off of the man’s back, assuming that’s what he wanted. 

“Hey, sorry about the bet...” you trail off, taking a seat on the grass and letting the wind graze your face.

“It’s fine. A bet is a bet.”

“Yeah but--” you stopped. There was absolutely no way that you would win this debate. 

The pyro user looked at you after a few seconds of silence. You usually talked a lot more than this and strongly believed in sharing your thoughts, so what was stopping you now?

“You know what? Let’s just go to the winery and take a walk there together.” You begrudgingly got up from your spot from the cool grass and started to walk in the direction of the winery.

There were a few hurried steps coming from behind you, assumingly from Diluc, but you paid no mind to him. He probably just didn’t wanna leave you behind--

“Woah-- hey! Diluc, wh--”

“A bet is a bet.”

you found yourself on his shoulders this time

dude really ran up and lifted you onto his shoulders

like dipped under you

mans said “woOOP” 

you would kill him but hes too hot for that 😉

You sighed.

A bet is a bet. 

you were taller than the alchemist

not by much, but it was enough that it was wacky as hell

(i hc that Albedo isn’t super strong so he’s struggling even tho he’s a sword user-- tbh i thought that he was a catalyst at first lmao)

it’s so funny because Albedo is literally holding you like a baby being burped while doing some sort of experiment

“Stop kicking before I spill something on the both of us, (Y/N).”

“No.”

The blond sighed and continued to work on some kind of potion. 

It was comforting to be in someone’s embrace again. How long’s it been? Years, maybe...

And soon enough, you fell asleep while the scholar cradled you in his arms. 

i can assure you that he was FREAKING OUT

he was scared that he would wake you up if he put you down on the bed that the he occasionally would sleep on (he survives on caffeine)

but he needed to do this experiment 

like... NEEDED to 

“../N)..? (Y/N), wake up.” You whined in response, not really processing anything that was coming out of Albedo’s mouth. “You won’t be able to sleep later tonight if you continue with your nap.”

“..what time is it..?” you let out a large yawn and covered your mouth. Since you had just woken up, your brain had refused to function properly. And with that, it took you a while to realize that you were laying on a bed. 

Albedo was still working on something (you weren’t sure what) but stopped to wake you up.

he’s cute

but he almost blew up

impressive how you didn’t wake up

“Only around sunset. Come, I’ll make dinner.”

the least i could say is that Xiao was not pleased.

HE WANTED TO COMPLAIN SO MUCH

but he didn’t wanna hurt your feelings 🥺

karmic debt was nothing compared to you feeling sad /j 

karmic debt is horrible :( poor xiao

also being in crowded places was not fun for him

LANTERN RITE !!  he did think that the xiao lanterns were cute 

“Ooh, ooh, look! It’s a food stand,” you excited pointed out from on the yaksha’s back, “wanna get something? There might be almond tofu!”

“Only if there’s--”

“--almond tofu. Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s the only thing you can stomach. Mr. Dream Eater...”

That must’ve struck a chord in him. The “young” man kissed his teeth, showing a hostile attitude that he had never done to you. 

“Just because I agreed to let you win doesn’t mean that I won’t go back on it.” 

secretly he didn’t 

he really enjoyed your company and hates everyone else 

funny because he desires company and love but WHATEVER !

xiao loves you in some type of way 

he adores you and all of your stupidity

and sometimes you mess up and it’s fine

it’s just a “mortal thing” 

(he also makes mistakes but shh)

You remained silent until the two of you reached the food stand, filled with savoury smells and delicious aromatics. Though there was no almond tofu.

“You wanna try somewhere else? I don’t mind going to find a different spot.”

Xiao grumbled. Not like you were the one walking and exerting energy to get from one place to another. 

“Fine.”

“Look... I promise this is gonna be the last place. If we don’t find any, we can go back to Wangshu Inn and ask Verr Goldet for some,” you reasoned. 

The adeptus remained silent, but didn’t show any signs of displeasure. You took it as a yes.

“Wanmin restaurant has some, I think! It’s the best of the best in Liyue too.”

“This better be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, it will! I’ll even pay for it and everything!” He sighed, making his way toward the restaurant. Honestly, you didn’t wanna even get anything to eat. For the most part, it was just spoiling Xiao for once since he never went anywhere and only ate the almond tofu Verr Goldet made at the Inn.

I hope that you can be happy, at least for today.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Photoshoot Fantasies - Fred Weasley

Title: Photoshoot Fantasies Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dom!Fred, daddy kink, spanking, masturbation (male and female) oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, choking, begging, dirty talk Summary: Fred doesn’t like it when his girlfriend gets naughty without his permission A/N: this is….pure filth. For the anon who wanted some smut with dom!fred. this is literally like 3% plot and 97% smut lmao so I hope you enjoy!! Requests are open and feedback is always welcomed!!

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“Oi, lover boy! You’ve got a letter from your girlfriend,” George calls teasingly from the kitchen.

Fred groans as he rolls over in bed, his hands coming up to rub the last bits of sleep from his eyes. He squints as he opens his eyes, due to the bright streaks of sunlight coming in from the break in his curtains. Fred takes a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day before he heaves himself out of bed, and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Good morning dear brother of mine,” George greets far too cheerily for the early hour.

Fred grunts in response and takes a seat across from George, waving his wand so a cup of coffee lands in front of him. He usually isn’t one to need caffeine in the morning, his own natural energy is usually enough to clear the sleep induced fog from his head, but he’s been having trouble sleeping lately since Y/N hasn’t been by his side.

After graduation, Y/N landed her dream job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry. Fred had been so proud of her, and he loved how excited she was each night as she told him about her day over dinner. Unfortunately, her job had one huge drawback: traveling. Every so often Y/N would travel to different parts of the UK and Europe to get updates on the population of certain magical creatures or to help develop and implement conservation plans. A week ago, she left for her longest trip yet, an entire month, and Fred hasn’t been able to sleep well since.

“Where’s this letter then?” Fred asks after he has a few sips of coffee. He can feel the caffeine working its’ magic, and his brain is finally clear enough to string a sentence together.

George rolls his eyes and tosses a thick envelope at Fred. “You two are sickening, you know that? I think she wrote you a bloody novel about how much she loves you and misses you,” George says, pretending to throw up.

Fred flips George off, trying to contain the blush forming on his face. “Don’t act like you didn’t stand in the doorway for 15 minutes last night kissing Angelina goodbye, git.” Fred can feel George’s eyes on him as he fiddles with the envelope. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he bites.

“Someone is feeling feisty,” George retorts with a laugh. “Come on then, open the damn letter. Let’s see how long it takes her to start waxing poetically about your eyes.”

Fred glares at George as his fingers quickly rip open the envelope. Normally he would wait for George to go and busy himself with something else or he’d retreat to his room so he could bask in Y/N’s words by himself, but it’s been far too long since he’s seen her and Fred thinks he might explode if he waits any longer to read her letter. “Oh,” he says softly in surprise, when he only pulls out one piece of parchment. The envelope hadn’t been bulky from the lovely letter she wrote him, but the half a dozen photographs she had included. His eyes scan over the short note, a small smile appearing on his face.

To my dearest Freddie Eddie Spaghetti,

Things are going well up in Scotland, Niffler birth rates are through the roof thanks to the plan we implemented last year. We’ve spent the last few days prepping a large cohort of them to send off to Egypt to assist the rune breakers Gringotts has out there. I’ll be off to France in a day or so to check up on some of the Thestrals we brought to a conservatory outside of Nice a few months ago, hopefully they’ve acclimated well.

I’ve been missing you like crazy, Freddie. You’re all I seem to think about these days, it’s been quite hard to focus on my work. I don’t know how I’m going to manage going three more weeks without seeing your face or being held in your arms. You better rest up, because you won’t be getting any sleep for days once I’m finally back home with you.

I’ve included a few photos that will hopefully keep you company while I’m still away.

Love you lots and lots and lots, Y/N

“That’s it? One stinky piece of parchment?” George asks, clearly annoyed. “There’s my day, ruined. Thought I’d get a nice laugh at least since you’ve been so miserable. What else is in the envelope then?”

Fred’s eyes are still scanning the letter, trying to commit the words to memory and he absentmindedly grabs the stack of photos to show George. “She sent photos,” he responds, finally putting the letter to the side. “Probably of all the baby Nifflers,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Let me see, then,” George says excitedly, reaching his hand out. “Remember when she sent those photos of the baby dragons dressed up in onesies? That was jokes. Bet she put hats on them this time.”

As Fred goes to hand George the stack of photos he gets a glimpse of the one on top. His eyes widen and he quickly pulls his arm back, cradling the photos against his chest. “Nope, sorry. You can’t see them.”

“What? Why not?” George watches as Fred starts to fidget in his seat and a red flush starts to take over his face. “Oh my god!” he says suddenly with a laugh, realization hitting him. “She sent you nudes! What a little minx. You two are far more disgusting than I ever could have imagined.”

Fred clears his throat, choosing to ignore George. “Well I’m going to go back to my room and uh, respond to this letter. See you later.” Fred tries to act as normal as possible as he heads back to his room, desperately trying to ignore George’s cackling. He breathes a sigh of relief as he shuts his door behind him, leaning on it for a moment.

Fred rids himself of his T-shirt and climbs back onto his bed in nothing but his boxers. This isn’t how he planned on spending his morning, but Fred is more than happy to change his plans. He sits up in bed, his back pressed up against his cold wall and his legs splayed out. While Fred would consider himself adventurous in the bedroom, this is the first time Y/N has ever done anything like this, and he can feel himself getting aroused already.

“Merlin,” he groans as he allows himself to look at the first photo. Y/N is laying in the middle of a bed wearing nothing but a lacy red bra and the matching pair of panties, a set Fred is all too familiar with.  Her whole face isn’t visible, just her mouth, and as the photo moves her tongue comes out to lick her bottom lip and her hand lightly trails down her torso to her thigh.

He balances the stack of photos on his lap for a moment, his right hand pushing his boxers down to his thighs. Fred had planned on drawing out the experience, but he’s already rock hard from the first photo. He throws the first photo on the bed beside him as he wraps his hand around himself, and he picks the stack back up.

Fred starts to slowly stroke himself as his eyes rake over the next photograph, his mouth running dry. Y/N is laying in the same position as before, but the bra she was wearing in the first photo has been discarded, and as the photo moves her hands massage her breasts and she bites her lip.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, as he moves onto the next photo. Y/N is now completely naked, and as the photo moves one of her hands trails down her front from her breast to her core while her other hand pinches and toys with one of her nipples.

Fred starts to stroke himself faster and is unable to contain the grunts that fall from his mouth as he moves to the next photo. His thumb rubs the sensitive tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that has started to accumulate, helping his hand glide easier as he strokes. In the next photo, Y/N’s mouth is open, and Fred is sure a breathy moan is leaving her lips, as the movement of the photo shows Y/N starting to slowly rub her clit as her other hand fists in the sheets underneath her.

“Oh, fucking shit,” Fred groans as he looks at the second to last photo, his hand stilling on his cock to stop himself from finishing just yet. Y/N’s feet are now flat against the bed, her knees bent and open wide. As the photo moves Fred can clearly see Y/N sink two fingers into herself as her thumb rubs at her clit. Her other hand tugs at the sheets and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s on the brink of her release.

Fred starts to stroke himself again as he reveals the last photo, his orgasm quickly approaching. Y/N’s entire body is flushed red and as the photo moves her back arches, her toes curl, and her whole body trembles as she reaches her orgasm.

Fred’s thumb teases the sensitive head of his cock as his eyes wander over all of the photos. He focuses on the last one, and as Y/N once again reaches her climax Fred does as well. His head tips back and he lets out a low moan as he releases all over his stomach, his cock twitching in his hand. Fred continues to lightly stroke himself as he comes down from his high, his breath coming out in hard pants.

When he gets to be too sensitive he releases himself, letting his cock lay against his stomach. He reaches for his wand so he can clean himself off with a simple spell. But an even better idea pops into his head.

“Accio, camera,” he casts, watching as the top drawer of their dresser opens and his camera starts to fly over to him. He grips the camera and points it at himself, so his body from his torso to the tops of his thighs are in shot. Fred makes sure that his limp cock and the come on his stomach is the center of the photo, and once he’s pleased with the shot he clicks the shutter button.

Fred places the camera on his bed as the photo prints and develops, grabbing his wand and cleaning himself off with a spell. He pulls his boxers back up and gets out of bed, rummaging around for some parchment and a quill. Once he finds what he needs he writes out a quick letter to Y/N.

To my dearest Y/N,

I’m glad to hear everything is going well with work. I’m so proud of you and the things you do. Things at the shop are going well, the new range of whiz-bangs sold out in just a few days. I’m missing you like mad, I can’t wait for you to get home.

Those photos you sent me were very naughty. How dare you pleasure yourself like that without Daddy’s permission. I think Daddy’s going to have to punish you when he finally gets his hands on you. 10 spanks sounds fair, doesn’t it princess? I think you deserve it, after the mess you caused Daddy to make all over himself.

Love you lots and lots and lots and lots, Freddie Eddie Spaghetti

Fred grabs the now developed photo from his bed as he reads over the letter, a satisfied smile on his face. He folds up the letter and tucks it into an envelope along with the photo before he seals it and addresses it to Y/N. As he goes to leave his room he spots a piece of folded up parchment on his floor and he grabs it, opening it up as he heads towards the window in the kitchen.

I’m going to Angelina’s. Use a silencing charm next time you perv.

Fred laughs at George’s note as he sends their owl away with his letter, already thinking about taking advantage of his brother’s absence.

-

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” George muses as Fred saunters down into the shop just before opening.

Fred adjusts his tie as he joins his brother at the till, a huge smile on his face. Just like last week, a letter had arrived from Y/N this morning with another filthy set of photos. This time she was in a lingerie set that Fred didn’t recognize, and she brought herself to her climax using one of the toys Fred had purchased for her as a Valentine’s Day present earlier in the year. Fred had just enough time to bring himself to his own orgasm and write her back before he had to get dressed and head down to work.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Fred asks as he unlocks the door and turns the open sign on with a wave of his wand. “The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day, Georgie.”

George looks Fred over before he scrunches his face up in disgust. “Y/N sent you another letter today didn’t she?” When Fred sends George a wink he gags. “Bloody disgusting. I hope you washed your hands.”

“And why would Fred need to be washing his hands?” Verity asks as she comes back from the storeroom with some more love potions to be stocked.

Fred’s face flushes red as George start to laugh. “No reason in particular,” he stutters out. Fred turns to George and glares at him. “You’re such an arse.” Fred moves to hit George upside the head, but he ducks his brother’s advance and heads over to help the two customers that have just walked in the door.

“You lot don’t pay me enough to deal with this,” Verity says as she chuckles and shakes her head.

-

Fred sighs to himself as he sits up in bed, his eyes scanning over some of his notes. He and George are in the early days of developing some new products, and he’s working out some of the initial bugs before they start production next week. At least that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, but his mind is definitely elsewhere. Y/N’s third letter had arrived a few days ago, and he can’t help but let his mind wander to the new photoset sitting in his bedside drawer. It seems that his threats of punishment have fallen on deaf ears, because the photos Y/N has sent have been dirtier each time, and he can’t help but imagine what will be waiting for him in the envelope when her final letter arrives in a few days.

“What do you want?” Fred asks dully when there’s a knock at his door, not bothering to look up at George.

“That’s an awfully rude way to greet your girlfriend after you haven’t seen her for nearly a month,” Y/N says, the smile evident in her voice.

Fred’s head snaps up immediately, a smile taking over his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He immediately climbs off the bed and heads over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N drops her bag on the ground and wraps her arms around Fred’s neck, pulling him down so she can kiss him sweetly. “We finished everything up a few days early. Figured I’d come home and surprise you.”

Fred presses their lips together again hotly, his hands moving down to Y/N’s thighs. He lifts her up, his hands gripping her tightly and moves her over to the bed. “God I missed you,” he murmurs into their kiss, before he tosses her onto the bed.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much, not with all the photos I sent you,” Y/N giggles as she lays back on the bed.

Fred’s eyes darken and he can’t help but let out a groan as he thinks about those pictures. He can feel himself start to get aroused, and he grabs his wand, waving it so that his door slams shut, and locks and a silencing charm falls around his room.

“Such a naughty girl you were, Y/N. Taking those photos without Daddy’s permission,” he scolds, his voice low and rough.

Y/N squirms on the bed, looking up at Fred as innocent as possible. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to make you feel good while I was gone,” she explains sweetly. “And clearly it worked, that photo you sent me made me so wet, Daddy.”

Fred bites his lip as he watches her squirm on the bed, taking pride in the fact that he can see a blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh, you made Daddy feel very good, princess. But you were still being a little brat. And you know what happens to brats? Don’t you?”

Y/N can feel herself getting wet as arousal starts to build in her stomach. She’s been waiting for this moment since Fred mentioned spanking her in his first letter. “They get punished,” she responds airily, fists clenching to keep from touching herself.

“That’s right princess, they get punished.” Fred pauses, letting his eyes roam up and down Y/N’s body. “Daddy think 30 swats is good, 15 on each cheek. Don’t you think, princess?” Fred smirks when Y/N lets out a whine as she nods wildly. “What should I use, hm? My hand? Or should I get the paddle?”

“Your hand, please,” Y/N begs. As much as she loves the paddle, she craves the feeling of Fred’s hand on her ass.

Fred smirks down at her. “Normally brats don’t get what they want. But you asked so nicely, princess.” Fred tears his gaze away from Y/N and takes seat on the end of their bed. “Get naked for Daddy and come stand in front of me.”

Y/N immediately gets off of the bed and rids herself of all of her clothing. Normally when they play this game she loves to drag it out and tease Fred endlessly. But she’s been on the edge for nearly 4 weeks and Fred has already been preparing to punish her, and she doesn’t want to find out what he’ll do if she’s even more naughty now that they’re finally back together. Y/N comes to stand in front of Fred, feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“God you are so gorgeous, princess,” Fred compliments, his hand reaching out to lightly grip her hip. He rubs circles into the bare skin, reassuring her. “Come on then. Get in Daddy’s lap.” Fred helps Y/N get situated across his lap, laying on her front. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, letting his hand run down her back, over her bum and to her thigh. “Do you have anything to say to Daddy? Before he gives you your punishment,” he drawls, his hand pushing in between her legs to rub at her wet folds.

Y/N gasps at his touch, her eyes falling closed. “I’m sorry for being a naughty girl, Daddy,” she moans out as Fred rubs her clit ever so slightly.

“Thank you princess,” he says softly, removing his hand from her core. He places it on her bum instead, lightly massaging one of her cheeks. “Daddy’s not mad at you, princess. But you still have to be punished, do you understand?” When Y/N nods he smiles. “Good girl. I want you to count for me, okay?”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N responds, getting comfortable in Fred’s lap. A squeak leaves her mouth as Fred lands the first slap to her ass. “One,” she counts breathily. Before she has a chance to recover from the first hit, Fred is landing another hit to her cheek causing her to moan. “Two.”

Fred smirks down at the writhing mess Y/N has turned into after her first 15 spanks. Her right bum cheek is bright red, and Fred resists his urge to lean down to kiss it. “Are you doing alright, Princess? Can you take 15 more?” Fred asks quietly, reaching up to stroke Y/N’s hair. As much as he loves being rough with her, he never wants to hurt her or make her uncomfortable in any way. He’s rock hard in his trousers already, and he wants to make sure she’s getting as much pleasure from this as he is.

“Yes, Daddy. Need more. ‘M a naughty girl, I need to be punished,” she responds desperately. Y/N is soaking wet and her stomach is a pool of arousal. A few tears have snuck out of her eyes from how turned on she is, and she’s basking in the warmth left behind on her bum from Fred’s hand.

“Good girl,” Fred praises, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s shoulder. “You can use your safe word at any time, you know that right?” When Y/N nods he presses another kiss to her shoulder and starts to massage the bum cheek he hasn’t hit yet. “Count for me again, princess, okay?”

Y/N nods, letting out a moan a Fred lands the first hit to her cheek. “One,” she whines, lifting her hips up to encourage him to spank her again. Fred suddenly lands three hits in a row, causing a few more tears to leak out of her eyes as she moans. “Two, three, four,” she stutters out.

By the time Fred lands the last hit to her ass, Y/N is desperate for release. She’s slowly moving her hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction against her clit. “Daddy please,” she begs.

“Look at my desperate little baby,” he coos, moving Y/N’s hair out of her face so he can see the desperation on it. “Such a good girl you were, princess. Such a good girl for Daddy. C’mere let me kiss you.”

Fred helps Y/N straddle his waist and tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. He kisses her deeply, his tongue immediately licking into her mouth. Y/N moans into the kiss, rolling her hips against the rough fabric of Fred’s trousers. Fred groans at the contact on his clothed cock, his hips rolling up to meet hers. “God, so fucking desperate for it aren’t you, princess?” he asks as his lips start to trail kisses down her neck.

Y/N nods, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. “Need you so bad, Daddy. Missed your cock. That’s what I was thinkin’ about in all those photos. Thinkin’ about how much I love your cock and how good it feels inside of me.”

Fred groans into Y/N’s neck and pulls away so he can look at her. “That’s so fucking hot, princess. Imagining you lying in bed, touching yourself and thinking of me.” Fred kisses Y/N again. “Go on and show Daddy how you touch yourself, princess. Get in bed and pleasure yourself for me.”

Y/N crawls off of Fred’s lap and onto the bed, settling down in the middle of it. One of her hands starts to pinch and twist her nipple, while the other runs down her body and settles at her core. She watches as Fred stands up and starts to undress himself, her index finger starting to rub small circles on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she moans, tilting her head back.

Once Fred is fully nude he kneels on the bed next to Y/N’s head and takes himself in his hand. He starts to slowly stroke his cock, his eyes crawling over every inch of Y/N’s body. There’s a flush that creeps up her chest, over her neck and to her cheeks and her hips are slowly rocking as she teases her clit.

“So pretty, princess. You look so pretty touching yourself for Daddy,” Fred praises.

Y/N turns her head to look at Fred as she feels her orgasm approaching. She opens her mouth, silently asking Fred to let her suck him off. When he doesn’t immediately give in, she whines. “Please let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please.”

Fred reaches down with his free hand to cup Y/N’s cheek. “Fucking hell you’re desperate for it princess.” He pushes his hips forward just enough so Y/N can wrap her lips around the head of his cock.

Y/N whines around Fred’s cock, her head starting to move up and down. She lets her tongue wrap around the head on each pull back, wanting Fred to release into her mouth. When he starts to slowly fuck his hips forward she hums around him in encouragement. As her climax builds she starts to rub harder circles on her clit, desperate for release.

“Fuck princess, gonna make Daddy come,” Fred moans, his eyes watching his cock disappear into her mouth.

Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as she reaches her orgasm, her whole body trembling. She moans around Fred’s cock as pleasure flows through her, causing him to suddenly release into her mouth. Her motions on her clit slow down as Fred’s cock twitches in her mouth and she swallows his release. As Fred slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth Y/N stops her movement on her clit, bringing her hand up to clean off her finger.

“Holy fuck,” Fred pants, watching Y/N’s lips wrap around her finger. “You are so fucking amazing,” he says in awe. Fred’s cock which hadn’t even gone fully soft starts to harden again as Y/N looks up at him. “Look at what you do to Daddy, princess. His cock is already hard for you again.”

Y/N smiles as she gets up to her knees. She wraps one hand around his cock and starts to slowly stroke it, while her other goes to his neck so she can pull their lips together. Fred’s mouth immediately overpowers hers, and he forces his tongue into her mouth. Fred is fully hard in Y/N’s hand now, and as they kiss he maneuvers them so he’s sitting with his back up against the wall, and Y/N is sitting in his lap.

“Need your cock Daddy,” Y/N whines, pulling her mouth away from Fred’s. “Fuck me Daddy, please.”

Fred chuckles, his hands falling onto Y/N’s hips. “Go on then, princess. Fuck yourself on my cock since you’re so desperate for it.” Fred suppresses a groan as Y/N grinds down against him. Fred and Y/N have tried nearly every sexual position either of them could think of, and they both know that being on top is low on Y/N’s list of favorites; she much prefers it when Fred holds her down and fucks her into the mattress.

“Daddy,” she pouts, grinding down against him again.

Fred narrows his eyes at her and resists his urge to kiss her. “Princess,” he warns. “If you wanna be a desperate cock slut, then be a desperate cock slut and fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Maybe if you’re a good girl and you come on Daddy’s cock he’ll give you what you want.”

Y/N perks up at that, and she leans forward to kiss Fred slowly as she rises to her knees. One of her hands’ rests on his shoulder, while the other reaches back to grasp the base of his cock.

Fred breaks their kiss so he can watch as Y/N lines him up with her entrance. Y/N whines as she sinks down, her eyes fluttering shut at how full she feels. She sinks down until their hips meet and Fred is fully inside of her.

“Fuck you’re tight, princess. Always so tight for Daddy,” he praises. He groans as Y/N starts to roll her hips, his grip on her tightening. “Go on, baby,” he encourages. “Get yourself off on my cock.”

“Oh,” Y/N moans, her hands gripping Fred’s shoulders tightly. She starts to slowly pick herself up, stopping when Fred is only halfway inside her, before she slams herself back down. “So good, Daddy,” she pants.

Y/N fucks herself on Fred’s cock like that for a few minutes, growing frustrated when she fails to hit the spot inside of her that will bring her to her orgasm. “Daddy please,” she whines.

“Come on, princess. You know how to fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Come around Daddy’s cock and he’ll give you what you want,” he encourages.

Y/N leans back, placing a hand on each of Fred’s thighs and uses the leverage to lift herself up. “Oh fuck,” she gasps as she sinks back down, the tip of Fred’s cock finally brushing her sweet spot.

“You look so pretty, princess. Getting yourself off on my cock,” Fred praises, helping Y/N to lift her hips off of him. “Such a good girl.”

Y/N moans as she fucks herself on Fred’s cock, already feeling her orgasm approaching. She starts to move her hips desperately, searching for her release. “So close, Daddy. Touch me Daddy please,” she pleads.

Fred smirks before he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Come on, Princess, come on Daddy’s cock,” he encourages, one of his hands leaving her hip so he can rub circles on her clit.

With one more downwards movement of her hips Y/N’s walls tighten around Fred as she comes, her body shaking as her orgasm rolls through her. “That’s it, princess. Such a good girl,” Fred coos quietly, his thumb slowing its motion and his hips rocking slightly to help her through her orgasm.

Fred kisses Y/N slowly as her breathing starts to return to normal. She shifts around on his cock as their lips move together and it takes everything in Fred to not come right there. “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, princess. Doing so well,” he says, breaking their kiss. “Can you take more, baby? D’you want Daddy to fuck you into the mattress?” Fred pecks Y/N’s lips. “It’s okay if you don’t baby. Daddy just wants to take care of you.”

“Want you to come inside me Daddy,” Y/N tells him, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Want you to pin me down and fuck me into the mattress.”

Fred doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Y/N hard and flips them over so her back is on the bed and he’s hovering over her. He throws both of her legs over his shoulders, pinning her to the mattress with his hips. He braces himself with one hand as his other comes up to grip Y/N’s throat and he pulls all the way out before he slams back into her.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” Y/N moans as Fred starts to fuck into her relentlessly. The tip of his cock is brushing the spot inside of her and she’s already so sensitive from her previous two orgasms, and with the way Fred is gripping the side of her neck she knows she won’t last long.

“God, princess,” Fred grunts as Y/N’s walls clench around him. “Such a good pussy. You always feel go good wrapped around Daddy.” Fred lands a particularly hard slam as Y/N moves to touch herself. “Hands off, princess. Want you to come just from my cock. Can you do that for Daddy?”

Y/N nods, too busy moaning and whining to answer Fred verbally. Her body feels like it’s on fire, her toes curling and her back arching as she reaches her climax. “Daddy,” she moans lowly, as she comes around Fred’s cock, a few stray tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

“Fuck princess,” Fred moans. Y/N’s walls tighten and twitch around him, bringing him to his own release. His hips still as he empties himself inside of her and he crashes their lips together. Fred slows their kiss down as they both recover, unable to stop the smirk that forms on his mouth when Y/N whines as he slowly pulls out of her. Fred collapses on the bed next to Y/N and she immediately cuddles into his side as he wraps his arm around her.

“I love you,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.  

Fred turns his head so he can kiss her properly, not pulling away until they both need to breathe. “I love you too, Y/N,” he says softly. “Are you alright? Did I go too far?”

Y/N shakes her head, chuckling at Fred’s concern. “Not at all, love. It was incredible.” She pauses so she can press a kiss to his neck. “I’m glad I have the next few days off, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Fred laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Good thing I have you all to myself because I have quite a few plans for us.”

Y/N looks up at him, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yeah? What might those be?”

“Let’s just say our cameras are definitely going to need more film when I’m done with you.”

[minty-mumbles]

I had a dream last night about Linked Universe.

So in the dream, Hyrule had this tradition/custom that it was extremely rude to use someone’s first name without permission from that person. (And this extends to all nicknames as well, I’m assuming, since they’re all Link… but anyways) it really depend on the person as to when you get permission. Some people do it easily, others, although only typically the extremely devout, never let anyone use their names. The general rule of thumb is that most friends get permission, and if you want to be in a romantic relationship, you should probably let them use your name. Otherwise, it’s seen as you not trusting them, which is not healthy for a relationship. Permission can be rescinded, but that’s only done under extreme circumstances.

The dream did not inform me what the chain could call each other instead. Maybe there are titles for people, based off what they mean to you? Like there’s one for friend, respected elder, younger child, superior, etc. (I honestly just want one of the boys to use the respected elder title on Time, lmao. Half to see his response to the ‘respected’ part, and half to see his response to the ‘elder’ part. On the other hand, Wind might choke someone if they call him by the ‘young child’ title)

It had something to do with names being a gift from the goddess. At least that was the initial reason. After people descend from the clouds, it mostly just becomes tradition. So those who are further down the time take it less seriously. For example, in Sky’s Hyrule, even friends don’t always get permission. In Warriors’ Hyrule, it’s not weird at all too introduce yourself, and then go “You may use my name” and then move on.

This tradition had mostly fallen by the way side by the time Wild’s time rolls around. It’s mostly only followed by extremely old religious people. As such, due to his memory loss, Wild doesn’t even know that the tradition exists.

So he just… calls them by the names they introduced themselves as. And the entire chain, even Warriors, who takes the name thing the least seriously, are like, pretty offended? They think he’s the most blatantly rudest person they’ve ever meet.

Sky, who has only ever given permission to like, five people, ever, is just sitting there stewing in rage. Warriors is just like ‘Haha. That’s kind of. Rude. Anyways… want to come patrol with me?”

And as they view him through this lens, they often misinterpret things he does to be rude/on pourpose. When in reality, he is trying to extend an olive branch, and anything else he does that is rude, he doesn’t know is rude.

He didn’t understand why they others are so sour around him. He can’t even begin to think that this might be a problem, because he doesn’t even know the tradition exists.

The dream did not see fit to give me a proper resolution, so I don’t know how the story ends, but I thought I would share it anyways.

[solarwonux]

10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.”  Yoongi’s  knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you. 

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.” 

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend. 

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.” 

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in.  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow. 

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement. 

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits. 

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it. 

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body. 

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap. 

The walk through the reception was a nightmare. 

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.  

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad. 

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.” 

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart. 

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.  

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him. 

“Right!” 

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit. 

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?” 

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times. 

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you. 

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you. 

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do. 

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back. 

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you. 

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips. 

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.” 

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

 It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what. 

You had kept true to your word. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half.  “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch. 

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore. 

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night. 

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

 He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin. 

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further,  he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it. 

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you. 

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to. 

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again. 

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane. 

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again. 

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue. 

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you. 

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain. 

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp. 

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now. 

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.” 

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right. 

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum. 

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand. 

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink. 

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.” 

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in. 

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer. 

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.” 

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly. 

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs. 

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy. 

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly. 

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure. 

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself. 

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms. 

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths. 

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?” 

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose. 

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again. 

“I know just don’t do it again.” 

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

[angryinternetduck]

yellow & blue

[not my pic] Hello and welcome to 2.7k words of pure angst! This doesn’t really have a purpose lol but it’s sad and angsty and features 2020 Brits Harry so why not!!! Have some depressed Harry, angelic reader, and yellow suits. Featuring Harry Styles x famous!reader. Inspired by Woman by Harry Styles, It Isn’t Right by the Platters, and When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars (which should give you an idea of just how angsty this is lmao).

The first time he met you, Harry was wearing a yellow suit. The first thing you said to him was a compliment about it. That suit sparked a conversation, and that conversation sparked an interest, and that interest sparked the best two years of Harry’s life.

If Harry said he hadn’t thought about that suit while preparing for the 2020 Brits, he’d be lying.

The chatter of the table he’s at isn’t boring by any means, but it’s not anywhere near captivating enough to keep Harry’s attention on the conversation and off of you. He heard about your new boyfriend, of course - who hasn’t - but this is your first public appearance together and Harry is having just a little bit of trouble breathing.

It’s been four months. Four months since you broke up, three since the news went public.

As far as the public knew, the separation was mutual. As a brand new artist, you needed to take a second to find yourself as a person. As Harry Styles, the man the myth the legend, Harry needed to focus on his next album and possible future acting career. He also supported you in your decision, and knew that the two of you would, of course, remain the best of friends.

Most of that’s true. You only just released your second album - which is doing spectacularly, of course - and Harry really does need to get this next album done. But it wasn’t mutual. Harry doesn’t think any of his break ups have been truly mutual. You broke up with him. There isn’t really any getting around it. Not that the public has to know.

The problem is that Harry understands why you broke up with him. As heartbreaking as it is, he realizes what he did. He knows that he wasn’t a good boyfriend. He doesn’t really have an excuse, either; he can explain away his faults all he wants, but at the end of the day, you’re just too good for him.

Which makes it all the more depressing to watch you positively glow without him.

Part of him wants to go over and beg for your forgiveness. He wants to walk over and get on his knees and say, I love you with all my heart and I’ll never make another mistake again and I’ll love you forever and ever, please, please take me back, I’ll do anything.

Another part of him loves you too much to do that. Maybe you’re meant to be with this new guy. Maybe he’s your one, your only, the one worthy of all your love and attention. Maybe he’ll make you happy in ways Harry never did.

Because really, all Harry wants is for you to be happy. He wants you to glow like this all the time, to forget the feeling of sadness, to never cry a single tear again. He wants the only pain you ever feel to be an ache in your cheeks from all your smiling.

He just wishes he could be the one putting that smile on your face.

One thing he’s noticed is that your happiness seems to coincide directly with his. Whenever you’re happy, he’s happy. Not at the moment, actually, because you seem happy as a clam and Harry feels like his chest is caving in on itself, but whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” he thinks of moments with you. Of moments when you were happy. Moments when you were happy because of him, with him, for him.

He surprised you with a picnic one year for your birthday. He went all out, spreading a blanket down and everything, and the two of you drank wine, ate sandwiches and snacks out of a picnic basket, and talked in Harry’s back yard until after the sun came up.

Whenever Harry thinks “happiness,” that is the moment that pops into his head.

It wasn’t a loud sort of happiness, either. It wasn’t a bouncing on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his blood, head pounding with excitement and joy and energy sort of happiness. He wasn’t breathless or wide eyed or buzzing with emotion.

No, this was a quiet happiness. It was the very definition of content. It was your head on his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his, your whispers of, “I love you,” the soft kisses exchanged as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle into the sky. It was your giggles at his jokes, your eyes brighter than the moon, softer than the wispy clouds suspended in air.

Harry’s getting a hollow ache in his chest just thinking about it. It hurts, really, because each of those memories, those days, those nights, carved a little hole in him and filled him with love and adoration and the purest happiness anyone’s ever experienced in the history of the world.

Now that you’re gone, that happiness has disappeared and all that’s left is a hollow, empty pit.

Since you’ve been gone, other memories have started creeping out of the shadows. These are different memories, memories of Harry’s failure and your disappointment and nights spent apart and tears sliding down your cheeks.

The problem with these memories is that it’s not a specific memory. It’s not one singular memory that Harry can turn over and over in his head and decide what went wrong. It’s not one thing that Harry can think about and solidify and apologize for.

It’s a whole bunch of things. It’s all the nights spent at the studio instead of with you. It’s all the last minute anniversary gifts and half hearted, distracted dinners, and all the forgetting of events and details. It’s the gradual falling away of random weeknight flowers, it’s the slow decline of hidden poems around the house he set out for you to find.

Well, maybe there is one thing. It might have been that one date night he cancelled. It was at the very end, during the knowing glances after frequent fights, after the slow, painful descent into acceptance but before the official conversation.

Dancing with the Stars had come on TV one night.

“Hey, I’m a star,” you murmured to him, curled up against him on the couch.

“Got that right,” Harry hummed, and you smiled up at him, and that smile made this night one of the good memories. “It should be just us two,” you told him, watching the pairs made up of one professional dancer and one celebrity dance on screen. “No professional.”

You giggled. “Yeah, we’re too good for them anyway.”

You took to dancing around the house after that night. Your dancing always brought a smile to Harry’s face. Funny how all you had to do was twirl, laugh, smile, breathe, and Harry would want to smother you in kisses and gift you his entire heart.

Sometimes you managed to rope him into it. Often you wouldn’t. Often, Harry would wake up to soft music playing in the kitchen, and he would walk in and see you dancing. He’d sip his coffee, and you would spin around and make up fancy footwork, and Harry would grin and blow you kisses and whisper, “I love you.”

He offered to take you dancing one night. He lay next to you in bed and traced his fingertips over your cheeks, lips, nose, and told you all about the night the two of you would have. He talked about live music and warm food and twinkling stars and dancing. You closed your eyes and smiled and hummed one of his songs, and Harry kissed you.

Then he got busy at the studio on the night you decided on. He stayed long. He called you. You didn’t pick up, because you were in the shower, getting ready for you big night. And you didn’t see the voicemail until after you were ready, until after you were sitting on the couch waiting for him, and when you saw the voicemail you jumped up because you didn’t look at the time it was sent, and you thought the voicemail was him calling because he was outside to pick you up.

You weren’t crying when he arrived at home. You just had a quiet sort of disappointment in your eyes, one that was almost more painful than tears, because this look told Harry that some part of you expected this. Harry didn’t look particularly guilty because he hadn’t realized how excited you were. He thought you probably didn’t even get ready. He thought you’d say, “Aw, well,” and move on.

He didn’t think he’d find you on the sofa, dressed in the most beautiful summer dress he’d ever seen, looking like an angel with a broken wing. He never dreamed you’d be so upset, never dreamed he’d be the reason for you being so upset.

That was the night he realized he was nothing but a mortal man in the presence of an angel.

An actual, real live angel.

An actual, real live angel who was losing her glow because of him.

Harry takes a miserable sip of his drink and tries to involve himself in the conversation happening around him. It doesn’t work. The noise level in the room is almost headache inducing, but somehow Harry can still pick out your laugh through the chatter.

He thinks, for a moment, that he’d like a shot of that laughter. He’d like to bathe in your happiness just once more. Maybe that’s all the closure he needs. A gasp of fresh air after what seems like eons of suffocating loneliness.

Then Harry thinks he sounds pathetic even in his own head and he excuses himself from his table. He walks almost blindly through the halls without even a semblance of an idea as to where he’s going. It’s quiet out here, at least, and he can clear his head, and take a breath, and maybe -

"Hey.”

Harry freezes.

For a moment, he thinks he’s imagining things. Then he turns around, and as it happens, he’s not.

There you are, in all your glory, a hesitant smile on your lips. You’re wearing a lavender dress. It fits you perfectly, makes you look like you’re floating off the ground, and Harry wants to cry because it matches his bow perfectly and that wasn’t even planned and goddammit, universe, that’s just salt in a gaping wound.

“Nice suit,” you say, and now your smile looks more sad than hesitant, and Harry feels the tears building in his throat because you remember too, of course you do, and Harry opens his mouth to reply but he can’t get his words out and now he’s on the verge of tears not only because he’s sad but also because he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks,” Harry finally chokes out.

“You’re welcome.”

The corridor suddenly feels long and empty and silent.

“Heard Feather on the radio the other day,” you say.

Feather. One word, a million memories shifting through Harry’s head faster than lightning.

A gifted necklace, filled notebooks, picked out notes, hummed melodies. Murmured lyrics in ears in early mornings. Night after night in the studio, together. Rubbish takeaway food, in the studio, together. Laughter over everything and nothing. Falling over each other in the booth, soft sighs and blissful gasps replacing giggles and shrieks of amusement. Late, late nights, together. Hearing it on the radio for the first time, together, almost driving off the road because of the excitement.

Hearing it on the radio last time, alone, almost driving off the road because of the stab of grief.

Harry’s not sure what to say to that. What do you expect him to? Oh, great, me too, fantastic song, innit? So he pauses for a moment and then replies, “We should make a sequel.” That gets a laugh out of you, and the thought strikes Harry to bottle it up and wear it in a little bottle around his neck.

“That would be something, huh?” you say.

“Call me,” Harry says. “I’ll book a studio.”

You smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t forget,” Harry tells you.

“I won’t,” you say, and there’s a beat of silence. Your smile fades as you look at him, as he looks at you, and Harry looks away because your smile’s about to disappear completely and Harry doesn’t think he could stand being the cause of your smile disappearing one more time.

You clear your throat. “Alright, well… Expect that call.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you around, H,” you say.

“See ya.”

You turn around and walk away. Float away. Fly away.

Again.

Flight, Harry thinks, watching you go. That’s what the sequel would be called. Feather. Flight.

You wore a white dress the first time the two of you performed it live. It’s such a love song. It’s the sappiest shit ever written by anyone in the entire world. If anyone else had written it, Harry would’ve rolled his eyes and said, Bullshit.

But it wasn’t. The song wasn’t, the love wasn’t, nothing was. It was the complete opposite. As pure and true as love could possibly be. Which makes it all the more painful that Harry couldn’t keep his shit together enough for you.

That’s another one of the Happy Memories: that first time performing together. You in your white dress, Harry in a silver, shimmering suit. The two of you did a whole choreography; you messed up every other move and Harry tripped over his own feet quite a few times, but the effort was there. The combination of the overwhelming yet familiar excitement of being on stage and the otherworldly bliss of simply being in your presence is a feeling Harry will never forget.

The air in the hallway grows heavier and heavier with each passing second.

Harry should get back to his table.

He starts to walk. He peers up at the ceiling as he does, hands locked behind his back, deep in thought. People are cheering out in the main room. Harry listens to the noise and closes his eyes, trying to shut his brain off.

The fans, he remembers, were devastated upon hearing the news of your breakup. It was kept quiet long enough that the questions and concerns weren’t particularly invasive, but it still hurt. It hurt like hell. It was ripping off the bandaid of the first month and poking and prying at the wound until Harry cried onstage and ducked out of an interview and missed a show.

Feather was taken off the setlist.

Once, during a lull in a show, the audience began to sing it. That was kind of strange. Harry looked up at the bright lights and swaying figures and heard his song, your song, being sung back to him by hundreds of strangers. It occurred to him, then, that it was not, in reality, your song. By that point, it meant something to other people as well.

That was very strange.

Harry ended up strumming out the chords for them. He smiled when the audience grew louder.

He heard later that the exact same thing happened to you. It was a few nights later, maybe the next week, and there were some technical issues. In the quiet, the fans began to sing Feather. You joined in just a second later, adding in your bit of the choreography.

Harry tried his hardest not to watch the footage, he really did, but he couldn’t help it.

He cried a lot that night.

When he finally makes it back to the main room, you’re situated under your new boyfriend’s arm, smiling brilliantly. Harry looks away as he sits down and downs the last of his drink. He grins at whoever’s talking at his table and shuts off his brain.

At the end of the night, through an alcohol- and exhaustion-muddled haze, Harry spots you by the door. He sweeps you up and plants a big messy kiss on your cheek, which you return with giggles and a kiss of your own. Harry leaves the 2020 Brits with two lipstick prints on him.

Despite the pictures splattered everywhere the next morning, Harry feels an air of contentment.

It’s done, he thinks, taking a deep breath. It’s done, and that’s good.

Because really, nothing gold can stay.

Not even the gold of a yellow suit.

***

ummm... yeah lol. hope u liked it...? lskdjf anyway there's that.

thx for reading! a reblog and some feedback would be fantastique!!!!

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