#honestly perfect tune to snuggle up to.... he has such a pretty voice ;-;

[loftwinglullaby]

naptime melody......

[1kook]

commercial break; SEVEN

this is part of my netflix & chill series ! happens a few months before part 7 

summary; And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan.  warnings; horny jk, jk wants to roleplay... everyone point n laugh, mentions of his impreg kink lol, making out, tits, honestly jk is just very horny n in love lol, jk in a vampire costume w fangs O_o rating; mature (18+) wc; 2k

notes; if u don’t know who lindsay is first of all ur sick, second of all here’s my queen’s top moments. also i just gotta say, this was originally gonna be a larger fic (a halloween special) for my ncouple, but i got a lil busy with school n ultimately didn't have time to invest in this as a whole installment so..... enjoy this commercial break instead!!

Jungkook loves Halloween.

He loves the pumpkin carving and the decorating. Loves the spooky music and the abundance of candy. He loves it, absolutely adores it, and for the second year in a row, he gets to spend it with you! Yet another person he loves very much.

He doesn’t remember ever being this excited for Halloween. Last year, you had roped him into going to some frat party with him, had egged him on, begged so cutely that it was your last year in college, baby until he caved. The two of you had spent the night drinking until you blacked out, Ubering home with your costumes half on, and then unceremoniously fucking in his living room with the blinds wide open.

(The next neighborhood meeting had been very awkward for Jungkook.)

It was his first time ever drinking with you like that, and he vaguely remembers, through his own drunken gaze, how cool you had been. Had absolutely owned a bunch of greasy football players at beer pong in your little sexy nurse costume. And when the crowd cheered your name, shrieked in awe, it had been him that you turned to for praise. “Did you see me, baby,” you had giggled, crowded him against the wall of this random house until Jungkook was sweating profusely. In lieu of a costume, he had worn a silly jogger set with a skeleton design that was supposed to glow in the dark, according to Amazon. You had told him he looked adorable, had kissed and squeezed his cheeks until Jungkook was a flustered mess.

It was still early into your relationship— if Jungkook did the math, you were only about five months in at that point —so he didn’t know how else to cope with the rapid thundering of his heart, the confession sitting on his tongue, the then scary L-word begging to be heard. So, he took you home and fucked you until your little nurse cap slid off your head and you were begging for him to let you cum, thus earning him his first ever offense for violating the neighborhood rules (i.e., traumatizing a group of middle schoolers by fucking in plain sight).

Long story short, Jungkook loves Halloween, and he loves it even more when he gets to spend it with you.

(He’ll never admit it, but he’s a hard romantic. He wants to do cheesy things with you, like cuddle you into his arms when you get scared, pat your head until you can look at whatever is happening on screen again. He wants you to feel safe in his arms, wants to be your refuge when things become too much. He likes to think he’s done a pretty good job so far.)

Jungkook’s plan goes like this:

First, welcome you with that Halloween basket you’ve been sending him tweet links about all month. The cute little Jack-O-lantern candy bucket stuffed with candy and hair ties and a soft Halloween themed blanket. It’s so cheesy, makes him blush when he catches sight of it in his closet, but Jungkook will do anything to please you.

Next, after presenting you with your Halloween gift and having you coo and tell him he’s a good boy, he’ll invite you to break your new soft blanket in. The living room will be prepared with an assortment of your favorite foods, the flat screen ready to play whatever horror movie the two of you settle on.

And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare.

It’s a perfect plan.

It’s the best way to spend his favorite holiday, with his favorite girl by his side and some of his favorite horror films on the big screen. Jungkook spends all of October geeked up for it, even considers hanging up lights around the living room to really set the mood. He’s so excited, can’t wait to spend another wonderful holiday at home with you, that he doesn’t fully realize why you haven’t brought up the long awaited topic of costumes.

“You like?” you ask, standing at the door of his bathroom with a sultry look in your eye, tits practically pouring out of the tight top you’ve wiggled into, skin oiled up scandalously. He fumbles with the fake vampire fang prosthetics he’d been trying to glue in for the better half of an hour.

He had heard the door open downstairs when you got here, had called out his mandatory greeting as he heard you come up the stairs. But none of that had prepared him for the sight of you in… whatever this was.

Jungkook doesn’t really understand exactly what you’re supposed to be dressed up as until the two of you are back downstairs—blinds drawn, full moon slipping in through the cracks—with some random horror movie pulled up on the TV. “I’m Lindsey,” you whine, brand new fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It shields your boobs from view, but he’s not sure if that’s a win or a loss. “From Total Drama Island!”

He settles in beside you, doesn’t get too comfortable because it’s nearing sundown now and he knows the herds of children are bound to start flowing in. “Uh huh,” he says mindlessly. His collar feels itchy, the overly-detailed vampire costume he meticulously scoured the internet for being one size too small. You snuggle into his side anyway.

“You don’t know anything about cinematic masterpieces,” you frown, avidly tuned into The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, because apparently you love horror movies all of a sudden, a fact that genuinely throws Jungkook off. He’s not sure what it is about you that had deluded him into thinking you would be a scaredy cat, but he doesn’t take the new bit of information too hard.

The doorbell rings right as the first gorey scene ends and you make a big show of huffing and whining as he rushes to answer it. But it’s only the beginning of the long night that awaits, and, as Jungkook comes to find, running back and forth from the door to the couch is harder than it seems.

Anyway, Jungkook’s neighborhood is a little posh, or ‘bougie’ as you like to claim, and trick-or-treating hours end a little before eleven pm. By then he’s tired, having refused your offer to switch places in fear that your boob might fall out of that scrap of fabric you call a top and earn him his second neighborly offense.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your boobs falling out in private.

“Stupid,” you giggle when he gets caught in his long cape, the sound slowly melting into a whimper as he slips his hands beneath your top, fighting with the ridiculous push-up bra you’ve donned tonight. Hands tangle in his hair, mess up the careful side part he’d styled up for tonight, and legs lock around his waist. “Your curtains closed?” you tease.

He huffs, catches your chatty lips with his roughly, presses and presses until your mouth must bruise. He belatedly remembers about those sharp fangs he’d glued on—hey, if he was going to dress up as some gaudy monster it might as well be realistic—and doesn’t realize until he tries to bite your neck and you let out a little yelp. Truthfully, he feels bad right away, but then you’re practically dissolving in his arms so he plays along. “Shh,” he hisses.

The roar of a chainsaw and terrified screams fill the living room, almost drowning out the soft sounds you release by his ear. “O- Or what?” you pant, flinch when he pushes your sad excuse of a skirt up over your waist. “Gonna b- bite me?”

And so Jungkook does.

You shriek. “That hurts, you idiot!” you scold with a tiny whine in your voice, but Jungkook’s cock is so hard. Your tiny, tight outfit does you no favors. Tits in his face, tiny thong against his bulge. He wants to make you sob, litter bites and marks all over your skin until his love makes you ache. You must see the crazed look in his eyes, because you drop the scowl. “Hey,” you say slowly, hand on his chest. “You look like you’re gonna eat me.”

He lets go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wonders if you can feel his thundering heart beneath your palm. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning away to regain his senses. Was it something in the air? Was it the fatigue? The full moon? Why did he want to fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until you were a crying, shivering mess? Something about you tonight, laid out for him to take, makes him feel absolutely insane. Starved and psycho; he just wants to take and take until you don’t have anything more to give. He purses his lips, tries to ignore the hot feeling in his lower abdomen when your hardened nipples register to his eyes. “I think I’m becoming evil.”

Of all the idiotic things his brain can come up with, this one is definitely top five. His cheeks flush right after, fueled by the boisterous laughter that escapes your lips at his statement. “Oh my god,” you gasp in glee, hands falling down beside your head. “You’re becoming evil?’

Jungkook frowns, flopping down on top of you to hide the embarrassment that paints his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your neck, warm and safe.

A hand cards through the back of his hair, nails dig lightly into his scalp. “Aren’t you the cutest little vampire,” you coo, seemingly ignoring the rock hard cock Jungkook presses against your thigh. He’s still so horny, has this sick thought that he could just pin you down right here, tear that silly costume to shreds and swallow you up in his lust. But your voice is so sweet, has his eyes fluttering shut as you gather him in his arms. “Silly vampire,” you hum, one leg thrown around his hip, a subtle roll of you hips up into him.

Jungkook huffs, licks a flat strip along the base of your neck. It draws a shaky exhale from you, has your hands digging into his back when he begins to slowly lap against the skin, nibble and tug until your back is deliciously arching up into him. “Wanna push you down,” he confesses quietly, hands securing themselves against your hips as he leans back. You're all dazed, eyes trained on his fanged mouth when he hesitantly adds, “l- little human.”

You could laugh, tease him for his sudden weird need to role play with you, but you don’t. A look of understanding crosses your face, sly smirk slowly following. “Oh?” you grin, hand coming around to cup his cheek. “The little vampire wants to use my body?” Jungkook tightens his jaw at your jab, but nods nonetheless.

You’re a feast before his eyes. Boobs in his face, pussy begging to be filled. You’re his, just like Jungkook is yours. And when you indulge him and his stupid whims—kinks, he should say, occasional interests that sometimes make him question himself—his heart feels warm and full. Proud and unashamed, like the truest version of himself when you look at him with those eyes. And your words only confirm it.

Your hands reach down for your top, pull the flimsy material over your head in one swoop that has your bra coming off with it. It drops to the floor. If it makes a sound, Jungkook doesn’t hear it over the shrieks of terror on screen. the blood deaths, the suspenseful music. All he hears is he hammering of his heart. 

It’s two of your sneaky fingers that come up to play, pinch one nipple tenderly as you meet his eyes. “It’s all yours,” you purr. “I’m all yours.”

And the thirst he feels, well. It’s a little vampiric, to say the least. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[shookspearewrites]

Back again @aeoncryptic ? I am so glad to see you popping back into the askbox; Your requests are always such a joy to answer! (+ you blessed me with my fave Theo, you angel 🥺 ) Thank you so much for requesting, luv ^^

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

☾ - Sleep headcanon

Theodorus van Gogh:

Theo works so hard and manages to exhaust himself so much that he sleeps like a brick - 8 hours a night of completely interrupted deep, blissful sleep. This means that his body clock is perfectly tuned to wake him up at 5:30 am every day, completely refreshed and ready to work harder than humanly possible. There’s only really one downside that Theo can see about it all though: It means that if he has a day off with you, he can’t sleep in and snuggle without getting restless or take afternoon naps with you in the warm summer months. 

He always vehemently denies it but, Theodorus is possibly the cuddliest of the mansion’s residents. Nothing soothes him quite like a good snuggle - Holding you tightly, sharing each other’s warmth, that’s his happy place. Theo’s favourite way to cuddle is spoon you from behind, his arms wrapping around your centre to link his hands in your’s. He’ll trail soft, sleepy kisses to the nape of your neck and lazily stroke your hair as he wakes up, feeling guilty for having to leave you alone in bed when he has to leave for work.

Theo’s a pretty still sleeper so, if he catches you in a cuddle, he’ll hold you there all night, never once moving. He’d be embarrassed if you ever told him but, Theodorus is a sleep talker. He’s admitted that he’s not good at expressing himself with words but, his pent up feelings seem to just let themselves out while he sleeps. Sometimes its lines from the romantic poetry that he reads and sometimes, Theo will very plainly express his true feelings about you with so earnestly in his slumber, often in a mixture of mumbled Dutch, French and English - “Ik wil je altijd beschermen”, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known”, “J'ai toujours su que nous étions faits l'un pour l'autre”. This paired with his husky, deep sleepy voice just makes for some wonderful heart fluttering on your part. And his heart always seems to skip a beat and his cheeks flush when he sleep talks almost like he’s dreaming of confessing all these things to you in person.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:

Mozart might be the lightest sleeper in the world, like, this man will wake up if he hears a door close on the other side of the mansion. It doesn’t help that he often works into the late hours of the night until he simply can’t keep his eyes open, only to be woken up after a few hours with the others beginning to start their day. Safe to say, Wolfgang never gets enough sleep and only manages to keep himself awake by ingesting ungodly amounts of coffee.

He’s rather cuddly, despite his cold exterior. Mozart’s love language is Physical Affection and my goodness does he like to show it when you share a bed together get your mind out of the gutter. The moment that you two snuggle up under the covers, his arms are pulling you to his chest and his lips are peppering delicate kisses to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He wriggles around in his sleep a lot but, if he ever wakes up and you have somehow ended up out of his arms, he’ll pull you back into a cuddle and bury his nose in your hair or the crook of your neck to soothe him back to sleep.

You’re going to need to remind / encourage him to go to bed a lot - Poor man is just so dedicated to his work that he’ll regularly work until 3am to achieve musical perfection. And honestly, Mozart is so grateful when you trudge into the music room or up to his desk in your sweet little night clothes and take his hand in your own, leading him to bed where he can just rest for the night. He finds it very hard to sleep without you by his side so, if he ever finds himself unable to share the bed with you for any reason, Wolfie will normally just keep himself awake until he either passes out or the sun rises, whichever comes first. 

[carnelianns]

Hello! I really enjoy reading your work, can I ask for just general headcanons for any ikevamp boyo of your choosing with a S/O(or MC if you'd prefer) who has no idea who these people are. MC; "I failed history twice and cheated to pass."

this ask is gold

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Fame isn’t really important to the man in pursuit of the perfect song, but Mozart admits that your cluelessness does induce some frustration from him.

From what he’s gathered from Sebastian, his pieces — even those he didn’t expect to get famous — are awfully popular in the present time, so why don’t you know a single one?

You think it’s a coincidence that Mozart’s playing a pretty little tune whenever you pass by the piano room. It, in fact, is not.

He peeks his head out into the hallway to see if you’re near and if you are, he’s rushing to the piano immediately to play a composition of his to check if you really don’t know it. He’ll never admit it, though. 

There’s a slight scowl on his face the day he finally pulls you inside the room itself, only warranting a questioning gaze from you. 

“Are you certain.. you don’t know these pieces?” He asks, the gentle tune of Sonata No. 16 contrasting greatly with his furrowed brows and the slight jut of his lower lip.

You can only hum, lifting your head off from his shoulder as you meet his violet eyes. “I’m sorry, Mozart, but the only thing I learned in Music class was how to sleep without getting caught.”

The slight pout on his face transforms into a look of dissatisfaction as he sighs, the sound mingling with the sudden fast pace of “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”, Mozart’s last attempt in seeking for a piece  you know.

“Oh my god.” His eyes swing towards your form, widening infinitesimally at the look of recognition on your face. “That’s from Little Einsteins!”

He almost bashes his head in the piano when you explain that it’s from a kids show you thoroughly enjoyed when you were young, though he doesn’t have the heart to do so (or the skull).

You may be slightly uncultured, but he wouldn’t mind seeing the stars in your eyes much more often, even if it means having to play the song botched by a kids show every so often.

Leonardo da Vinci

Leonardo isn’t one to brag about his achievements, nor does he really care about them, so you being unknowing of who he is exactly isn’t really a big problem for him.

Although he finds it absolutely adorable when you bounce up to him randomly throughout the day, spewing an almost unintelligible “Is it true that..?!” and an achievement of his you probably heard from either Sebastian or Isaac.

He quite honestly falls in love with you more and more each time, if it isn’t clear from the slight crinkle of his eyes, or the soft, genuine smile setting itself upon his lips.

However, there has been something plaguing his mind ever since the day you first met. The words you uttered, and the dreamy sigh and faraway look in your eyes after.

“The only Leo I know is Leonardo di Caprio.”

Making no move to act upon his curiosity, Leonardo quickly forgets your unusual words. That is until he sees you soberly staring out the window one fine day, a sigh resonating through the empty living room.

“Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asks, brows furrowed as he instantly takes a seat beside you. Not many times has he seen you look this blue, and god forbid it ever happen again.

“It’s just… You know… I sometimes think… Is Leonardo di Caprio doing well?”

A wry smile forms his face as you continue your lament, making inexplicable hand gestures here and there. “I just hope he’s okay, y’know? And god, you should see him. Young Leo is a different breed, perfection incarnate, the lo—”

“Cara mia, are you forgetting I’m here?” His guttural voice — one that seemingly dropped a few octaves — causes you to pause, eyes widening when you finally meet his intense stare and the irked smile on his face.

There’s no room to escape when he pulls you into his impregnable grip, carrying you bridal style to what you just know is his bedroom. ‘It seems I’ll just have to remind you which Leonardo your boyfriend is.”

Isaac Newton

Don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you don’t know of the famed apple incident, subsequently leading you to not tease him, but there’s only so much he can take.

The problem isn’t that you don’t know of him — he can care less, in all honesty. It’s that you don’t know anything about physics — hell, you could barely remember the three laws of motion.

So it was that every time you two are together, the vexed physicist manages to slip in a comment or suggestion about learning more about, well, physics.

Which often leads to you escaping from his grasp, more often than not giving the residents a wonderful show of a yelling Isaac chasing you around the giant mansion.

“I failed Science because I said Newton’s three laws of motion were made by Einstein, please have mercy,” you beg a scowling Isaac who somehow managed to wring you into the library for a one-on-one lesson.

“I don’t even have any words for you, you foolish woman.” He then proceeds to sigh, taking a seat beside you. Your fake sniffles cease as you turn towards your lover, a focused look making itself home on his face.

“... How in the heavens did you mistake me for Einstein?” There’s a visible pout on his face, his cheeks tinged a slight shade of red as he does everything to not meet your gaze.

“... Awh, is my lovely little scientist upset? Is he, now?” You coo teasingly, pinching his cheeks in a way one does an infant.

“Shut up!”

Your laugh echoes through the library as he turns away, crossing his arms. It does nothing to hide his now hot-red ears. 

Taking it upon yourself to slide your arms around Isaac’s waist you hum softly, snuggling into his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, then I’m glad good ol’ Isaac Newton ended up being the love of my life.”

“... If this is an attempt to get out of your lessons, then it didn’t work.” Damn.

[karasuno-writings]

Yo. I'm new to your blog, so I'll try my best to be appreciative and polite to you. Doing this gotta be hard. So, I ain't gonna act like you inhuman. This is your work, and its darn good. You got support for that. Anyway, I hope this ain't a weird request. Decline if your wanna, no hard feelings. How about headcanons with Tsukishima, Hinata, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, and Kenma. Them having a sleepover with their s/o, and they put their head in their lap, and sing to them? Is that confusing, or too many?

Ah thank you so so much for your kind words, I’m really thankful of how thoughtful you are! It is a perfect request and a very wholesome one honestly!! Yes I loved this and don’t worry it was just right! Thank you so so much again!

And thank you all who helped yesterday, I am sorry if it was bothersome for me to make my breakdown public but honestly?? It was all of you who made me feel better. Special thanks to @normiewrites @bakupecs @leiawriteshaikyuu @oyaoyaoyoya @wolfishwriting and @a-q-rp  (If you guys don’t want to be tagged just tell ma and sorry about that!) but if you wrote to me I really appreciate it, thank you all so much. 

Tsukishima

You went to his house due to a storm that hit Miyagi late at night after a date the two of you had. Considering you were close to his home that is where the two of you rushed towards. At arrival you were soaking, and he definitely could not let you go home while it was dark and pouring, so he suggested for you to stay the night.

Of course you agreed, so he handed you some pajamas and let you take a hot shower, how horribly irresponsible of him would it be to leave you freeze and catch a cold after all.

Depending on your size you either wore the full set or you found the pants to be too big but just the shirt perfect. Either way they were Dinosaur print pajamas, and he was blushing when you came out of the bathroom. 

He was wearing pajamas with a shark on the shirt, and looked way too cute for the frown that he has as a cover up for his slightly pink cheeks. 

His gaze softens quick enough though, the two of you have been dating for a long time and he trusts you, he didn’t feel vulnerable as he thought he would, that was the biggest relief.

It was early enough so the two of you sat down to watch a movie, his pick was interstellar, and you didn’t complain so it was set. 

15 minutes into the movie he pressed his lips on top of your head silently, your hair still wet from the shower, he could smell his shampoo which he immediately thought suited you, it felt so personal. 

That’s what made him shift so your head rest on his lap. You were clearly confused by his actions but complied to rest your head on his legs, pleased at the affection that he was only prone to show in private.

Your wet hair was fresh to the touch and soft in his hands, so he absentmindedly ran his fingers through it, dividing stands and twisting strands, all while immersed in the movie. 

Halfway through while being fully immersed, half conscious of what he was doing he started humming softly

You did not say anything as you knew better, but it however felt so heartfelt? It was truly a precious moment between the two of you.

Ever since that moment it is an unspoken habit between the two of you

He does it often, however it’s only late at night and while the two of you are enjoying quality time silently.

Hinata

He invited you over to his house for no real reason, he just wanted to spend more time with you and he thought it would be a nice “date”. So once you were at his house the first thing the two of you did was make a pillow fort

It was pretty big as you sat inside with your laptop playing some background music as you were just chatting it up. However he wanted to be closer to you so he just shuffled over. 

Once next to you he grabbed your head and placed it on his lap, probably a little on the harsher side because of his excitement. “Let me play with your hair Y/N it just smells so good!” 

As you nodded and chuckled he began untangling it and running his fingers through it. He either plays with it making small braids that he learned to do thanks to Natsu if it is long enough, or just gush about how nice it feels if it is short. 

He is talking to you about all his aspirations and you know volleyball until a song comes into his head, and he just kinda starts drifting away and starts singing it to you

He is smiling the whole time as he sings, brushing his fingers over your hair and taking loose strands off your face while looking into your eyes.

He smiles when he is done singing and he just silently plays with your hair for a few moments, he is very talkative but the moments of shared silence are so genuine and he is just admiring you

He started lowkey crying because he loves you so much, when you notice and ask he just hugs you and tells you that he just can’t believe he has you???

He is such an angel, this started happening frequently ever since, like whenever you are on a date in a more chill plan like staying at home he is very much singing to you while stroking your hair 

Please do it for him too, if you sing to him he will sing along with you and honestly karaoke duets happen very often between the two of you 

Iwaizumi

The first time you stayed over was because he had just lost a pretty important match and you wanted to support him. He really appreciate the offer and the fact that it was your idea was so much better, he just wanted to take his head out of the game. 

When he saw you wearing pajamas he had this adorable blush on because honestly you looked great. He usually sleeps in boxers but he is a gentleman so he had some comfortable shorts on. 

You both were chilling on his couch, this was after all a plan the came up out of the blue, so you were eating snacks while watching your favorite series. His arm was draped around you in a really lazy way, and his rough fingertips brushing your arm tenderly. 

As you watched the last chapter together he felt  you getting heavier against his chest and he looked at you, confirming that you were indeed asleep. 

He started at you for a few moments, you looked so soft with you eyes closed, he didn’t want to disturb you so he panicked for at least five seconds.

After that he relaxed and very carefully help you lie down on the couch, resting your head on his lap.

He pressed a kiss to you forehead and changed the finale so you would not miss it, and put on an animated film because he is a sucker for them.

He loved your hair so he began playing with it, knowing it would help you relax, he almost does it as a scalp massage, he is so good as helping you relieve stress. He was tender but rough, pretty much like he is with most things. 

You woke up slightly to hear him singing, he was not singing along to anything particularly, he just felt so at calm with you sleeping on his lap. 

You did not stir until he finished singing, that is when he noticed you were awake once more. The blood rushed straight up to his cheeks after that, he was very embarrassed.

That is until you pressed a soft kiss on his lips as you shuffled to look at him. His hands found their way to you back and he was smiling onto your lips. He just loves you so much.

He does it often, but the singing is a rare occurrence 

Kenma 

Neither of you planned the sleepover, however when the two of you decided to take a break from playing you discovered that it was incredibly late, so he asked you to stay the night.

He had this small smile as he said it, he liked the idea of getting to spend more time with you, specially if it meant he got to cuddle you

He lent you some pajamas or comfy clothes of his, he liked when you wore his clothing, it was a small gesture of what you meant to him. He is a firm believer that to date you just need a really deep friendship so he likes those small details that give off they you are indeed dating. 

The two of you had been playing games but now he just wanted to watch you play, so the two of you sat on the floor, his legs wrapped around you as he rest his chin on your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around you as he held his gaze on the game. 

It was late at night, the two of you had watched a movie and played some board games, he is unsurprisingly good at them, and now you were laying on his bed, head on his lap. 

The two of you were quiet as his hands found his way onto your hair, he then started playing with it, soft fingers meticulously dividing strands and tenderly running up and down your hair. 

He then started humming, a soft and almost ethereal tune,  as his eyes become droopy and his hands touched your hair carefully.

He has a beautiful singing voice, he however will not sing often, just in these precious moments.

Like that the both of you drifted asleep, only shifting almost in the morning, as you snuggled up to him. 

Kuroo

It started as a study date, the two of you knew exams were approaching so it always helped to study together, however when you suggested staying over this boy was ecstatic. 

When you arrived the two of you did study, long enough to get worn out. The second he saw you stress he decided to call it quits. He had prepared everything for this moment, from the movie the two of you would watch to the games you were to play.

When the two of you went to put on you pajamas he just smirked and mocked you, you just looked adorable and he honestly didn’t know how else to cope.

This dork lay blankets on the floor and pillows surrounding it, for the two of you to be comfortable so he literally lift you up and lay you down on the little place he had set up. He was about to put the movie but he got really caught up with talking to you and joking around to make you relax.

Then the two of you decided to actually watch the movie, some disney movie you had always loved, and before you could make yourself comfortable he was behind you, softly laying your head on his legs.

His hands quickly found their way to your hair he loved to play with it as a side distraction from the movie, and knowing it was something you liked made it all better. 

He sang along to every single song in the movie and honestly he played with you hair almost the entirety of it, you ended up very relaxed and his he now smelled like you, he was really happy about it. 

If you sing with him he will be beyond happy, making voices for different characters and all.  

However after it ended the two of you remained there, and as he saw you he smirked and sang you a song very dear to him, it was soft and honestly he just appreciated that he could spend this moments with you. 

You closed your eyes because it felt really good and just before you opened them he kissed you softly, smiling lightly. He was happy he took you by surprise. 

[blackberry-gingham]

This is a bit personal but how about beatle x reader headcannons/imagines of how the boys would react to their reader feeling self conscious about their body

No problem at all! So, I've seen this trope done quite a bit on other headcannon type pages for other fandoms, and since body insecurity is something very serious to me that I myself use to (and still do) deal with, I wanted to try and take this a little deeper then "you're sad, they tell you you're beautiful, the end", so I'm sorry if these get a touch angsty, but I promise everything works out ❤️

Also, I'm so sorry this took so long dear! These are somewhere between headcannons and my usual imagines, so I hope they're alright enough to make up for the wait! And remember, you're amazing and wonderful, just the way you are ❤️❤️❤️

George

Personally, I feel like George is sort of ?? forgotten ??? Of all the boys

By that I mean, like even non Beatle fans know Paul and John, and they might know Ringo just bc that name stands out, but George???

I mean, ik back before I was a fan I could never remember who "the fourth one" was

So anyway, even tho he's kind of in the background compared to the other three, that doesn't mean he's not sensitive to how the others are treated/feeling

At the end of the day I think he'd be his usual self and a good, sympathetic ear to insecurity issues

When he finds out, it's kind of an overtime process

He's use to bringing you snacks and take a little break like that with you, especially after a long day of recording or practice

But lately, you've been... Strange about it

Either straight up turning him down, or picking at the food and not really touching anything

He asks what's wrong, as gently as he can, seeing as he honestly already suspects the answer

You and George have been together for a while now, and he's always been easy to talk to, and understanding if you don't feel like sharing, so you feel that you can be honest

"I'm just... Trying to watch my figure, you know?"

He just kind of looks at you, confused at first

"Why?"

His face is hard to read, and yet still manages to turn to a completely different, very serious, emotion

"Has someone said something to you?"

You now have his full attention as he puts aside his guitar

You assure him that no, it's just a personal thing

"Oh", he nods

"Yeah", you nod

You're not sure how this makes you feel. Perhaps you're glad it's over, but you can't help but feel... Shunned?

But before you can ruminate too much, George brushes off his lap as though he's about to stand

Instead he sits back and looks at you

"Come here"

His voice is serious, but not quite stern

Invitingly, he becons you over and nods towards his lap

You look from his face to his long, thin legs

At first you decline, brushing it off almost as a joke

You look to your own legs

He can't be serious?

He asks you again, "Come on, I want to show you something"

At this point your curiosity is peaked

You get up and approach cautiously, as though he might run away

When the moment of truth arrives, you slowly, s l o w l y, begin to sit

Tired of waiting, George hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you forward

You fall onto his lap with a little thud and you figure this is it, expecting him to shove you off

Instead, when nothing happens, you dare to peak your scrunched up eyes open and see his smile waiting for you

He leans in for a gentle kiss, all the while his hands are resting on your thighs

His legs are like iron, not uncomfortable to sit on, quite the opposite actually, but strong in a way you hadn't expected

When the kiss is broken, he slides his palms up and out until they're resting on your hips

His callused fingers tickle a little, even through the fabric of your clothes

"So um, what were you going t-?"

He shushes and you, and picks up your hand in his

George brings the heel of your palm a mere inch away from his lips

He pauses just for a moment, making direct eye contact with you, before turning back to his work

He presses a trail of kisses along the inside of your arm, to the crook of your elbow, and up your bicep

You shiver, tensing as he goes up

But he doesn't recoil, or hesitate, or do anything of the sort

He gives equal love and attention to every inch of your flesh as he goes, only stopping at your shoulder to make sure you're still alright

As though giving permission, you bite your lip and give a subtle nod, curious to see what happens next

George releases your arm, now dedicating both hands to massaging your hips with all the thumb dexterity of a skilled guitarist

Next he moves along your shoulders, dropping down just a moment to give some attention to the bump of your collar bone

When he's done there, he lingers on your neck, gently kissing and sucking up and down before settling in one spot

After a moment, he starts humming a familiar tune against your skin

"Do you this song?", His voice is just a whisper

"Hm?"

"It's one of the first songs we wrote together"

George pulls back again to look at your face...

"As much as I love you for what's out here"

...Then presses one more kiss to your lips

"I love you even more for what's in here"

He kisses your forehead

Finally he pulls back one more time, and the way he looks at you is as though all the love in the world is inside those eyes

"Never forget that. Promise me"

You seal your promise with a kiss

John

Ok so I think we all know John struggled with an eating disorder(s)

So he knows the whole nine yards of what it's like being "overweight", "underweight", somewhere in between, and still never being good enough for everyone else

I mean John is basically infamous for having been body shamed and criticized out of all the boys, particularly in the early years

So all this to say, he knows how awful it feels

To wake up in the morning, try to get dressed, and take forever to choose an outfit because you hate how everything looks on you

To look in the mirror and be unable to stand your own reflection

To think once, twice, and yes, even thrice before enjoying your favorite little snack, or even just a regular meal

He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy

And when he finds out that you, the most lovely person in the world, feel that way...

Oh, his heart breaks

All the boys would take this quite seriously of course, but John simply has a certain... understanding that the others don't

He finds out one night on a dinner date with you

You've picked at everything all night, hardly a bite

This is starting to form a pattern, and rest assured, he has been noticing

At the end of the meal, he asks if everything was alright in a way that references much more then the food

"Oh yes, fine", you force that same smile you always give when he asks that question

He waits until you're both in the comfort of your flat to breach the topic

You see, John is a man of many faces

The first layer is prickly and aggressive, the second is a mischievous joker, the third a sweet, but anxious individual

And under all those masks, the real John, is the most compassionate and loving man you've ever met

So when he does ask you what's really going on, he's very serious and very gentle

He wants you to know that you're safe to tell him anything and that he wants to help with whatever is so very clearly bothering you

It's tough to get it out, but John is patient and encouraging all the while and you manage it

You're surprised to hear that he suspected as much

John tries to go a little deeper, asking of there's anything particular that makes you feel this way or if it's just a constant thing

Regardless of your answer, he offers you what advice he can, from both personal experience and what he learned from his therapy sessions

John's not too great at comforting speeches, but he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to make sure you know just how much he loves you

He loves you for your heart, and how patient and kind you are with not just him, but everyone

He loves you for your mind, and how you too can have deep conversations about topics that are important to you both

And perhaps most of all, he loves you for your personality and how you can poke a bit of fun, just like he does, and you aren't afraid to put him in his place when he's being an arse

"Is there anything I can do for you love?"

You smile, feeling just a bit better after his speech

"How's about a cuddle?"

John grins cheekily, "Now you're talking!"

He half tackles you from his seat beside you, turning your seated position into a reclining one

You can't help but laugh playfully as he easily picks you up in a bear hug and slips under you so you can rest on top of him

He presses a kiss to your cheek

"How's that?"

You smirk back

"It's a start"

John gasps in mock disbelief at your remark

You just wrap your arms around his shoulders, snuggling against him

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to keep it up"

At that, he nuzzles the side of your face, glad to see you finally feeling relaxed

John give you one more squeeze in his strong arms, holding you close

You two spend the rest of the evening cuddled up and cozy until you fall asleep in each other's arms

Paul

Now it's no secret Paul has always been the "pretty one" of the Beatles

I mean heck, even in the freaking cartoon he has the least goofy and caricature esque face of all the boys

But personally I would imagine that he's felt a certain pressure from time to time to keep up his looks!

It would be quite draining for everyone to have this flawless image of you and then expect you to live up to it 24/7, so in that regard he understands struggling with feeling less then perfect

And certainly with feeling subpar when others just expect far too much!

The night it comes out, the two of you have plans to attend a soiree of sorts

Music, lights, dancing, champaign, the hosts are pulling all the stops and it'll be absolutely a black tie affair

You've got a very fancy dress for the occasion that you got as a gift from Paul some time ago, it's all sparkly, exquisite, and your favorite color to boot

And it... "fits"

As in, you can zip it up and move and breathe comfortably in it, but it just....

Paul finds you standing in front of the full length mirror, mascara beginning to run quietly down your face as you tug and smooth and pull the dress in varying places

He's honestly a bit panicked and confused at first. After all, he does hate to see you upset, let alone cry

"is something wrong love? Do you not like that one? There's plenty of time to change!"

"it's nothing! Just an eyelash"

You try to laugh it off and hope that he'll just leave you alone

You see, Paul has been talking about this shindig for weeks in advance

It's hosted by a good friend, many more of which will be in attendance tonight

Not to mention he hardly ever gets to do something nice away from the press, so you're trying very hard not to ruin things for him

Paul walks over to you, concern written all over his face

"No really, what's wrong?"

You try to wave him off, but he takes you gently by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye

He looks around your beautiful eyes, searching, and it almost feels as though he can read your mind

At last he says "You don't want to go?"

With that, you just can't manage to hold a brave face any longer and the tears come rolling down

Without another word, Paul guides you to a seat on the bed and returns swiftly with some tissues

He dries your eyes as best he can and thumbs a soothing circle on your hand, giving you space to tell him what's on your mind

When you've had the chance to situate yourself, you tell him that you don't mind the party it's just that the way you feel in that dress, in fact, in all your dresses is just...

Paul nods understandingly as you trail off, and the two of you sit in silence for a moment

You're concerned you've upset him and ask as much

"What? No, of course not love!"

"But I know how much you want to g-"

Paul shushes you and brings a hand up to stroke your cheek

"I don't care about some stupid party, nothing matters more to me then you. I mean that"

He tilts his head and smiles at you

"Tell you what? We'll just skip it and have some fun right here!"

For a moment you're afraid he's doesn't mean it, but there's a childlike gleam in his eyes and grin on his face that tells you he not only means it, but is excited at the prospect

You're still a little doubtful that you haven't made him upset, but Paul reassures you until you're able to take him at his word

Absolutely relieved, you agree and wipe away your last few tears

"Good. Now let's get this off you, eh?"

Paul helps you take out your jewelry as well as undoing the far too complicated latches, ribbon, and zipper on the back of the dress

His delicate fingers slide up and down the length of your neck and back reverently as he works, planting gentle kisses to the nape of your neck every so often

With the hardest part over, and ever the gentleman, he gives you space to slip it off and put on something more comfortable

When next you see him, he's putting on a sweet and slow record, something like what you would've probably heard tonight

He's removed his suit jacket, tie, and shoes and when he turns to see you in your adorable PJs he smiles at you like you're the belle of the ball

"Ahem, may I have this dance?"

He bows low and offers you his hand, peaking up at you for just a moment to shoot you a playful grin

You laugh at his silly antics and give in happily to the charade

Paul leads you in a steady waltz around and around the room, the two of you stealing kisses and suppressing laughter all the while

When the record comes to an end, you both collapse on the couch and catch your breath

By now, you're fully confident you've had more fun just now then you would've all night had you gone

After a minutes rest, Paul hops up from his seat

"Just a minute, I forgot something... Wait right here!"

He darts off around the bend and when next you see him, he's carrying two flutes of champagne

Paul takes a seat beside you again and hands you yours

"I was saving this for when we got back, thought we could leave early and enjoy the rest of the evening alone"

You smile, touched by the thoughtfulness and still riding the high of the previous activities

Finally, you propose a toast

"To my amazing, lovely boyfriend"

Paul smiles at you with adoration. You mean so much more to him then a mere toast could describe

"To my love, the most gorgeous dance partner in the world"

Ringo

Idk if this is/was a thing, or if it's just something I've noticed, but Ringo seems to be the butt of the joke, particularly in regards to his appearance, a lot

Like he's the "short" one and he's got that nose

I only ever see him take it like a champ and all in good fun, and laid back as he is, it doesn't seem to hold him back but I'm sure he'd understand feeling insecure about ones body/looks

But for you to be insecure???

He just??????

When Ringo finds out, he's honestly the most bewildered of all

He finds you sat against the wall, hunched up and crying, half clothed, and a mess of clothing strewn around you

Usually whenever something's bothering you, you know you can bring it to him.

He's always there for you, after all

So to see you like this, he's absolutely terrified that something truly awful has happened

In that moment, thanks to his roaring adrenaline, he goes from rock star to olympic sprinter and dashes to your side so quickly it's as though he teleported

"What's wrong love, what's wrong?"

He holds your face up to look at him and quickly checks over you to make sure you're not injured or sick in some way

When he sees the pain in your eyes, he's nearly crying too

He wants so desperately to help you, and take all your troubles and worries away this very moment.

Even if it meant he had to shoulder the suffering for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat, no doubt

You feel rather embarrassed to be caught like this, and even worse still to see your boyfriend so upset on your behalf

This takes you back to square one, crying and nonverbal for a bit longer

Luckily, Ringo catches on that him getting upset is only going to make you more upset, so he settles himself and holds you until you're ready

When you are ready, you manage to choke out your insecurity, trusting him as you always do

And when he hears you're insecure about your body, or even your looks in general, he is just....

Ringo.exe has stopped working

Mind, it not that he doesn't understand your feelings!!

It's just that you are so completely and absolutely beautiful and kind and so much more to him, that he simply cannot fathom the idea of holding the opinion of you as any less

"is it the clothes? Because forget the damn clothes" He takes a handful and throws them up and away, like confetti

"I'll buy you a whole new closet if you like! W-would you like that?"

He smiles hopefully at you, as though you truly would like that, and it'll solve all your problems

You simply shake your head

And, after moment, Ringo starts to understand

He sits with you silently for a moment, the gravity of your feelings is so important to him that he's not sure plain old him has something good enough to say

But he knows he wants to say something

So, he meditates on it for a moment, and decides he can only tell you the truth

"Well... you know that I love you, yeah? Sometimes I wonder how a guy like me got so lucky to be with a right angel like you.... And so do the lads"

He laughs that deep, silly laugh you love so much

"Why, I think you're the loveliest girl in all of England er uh, no, all the world!"

That earns a little smile from you

You're about to respond when you catch a shiver

You're only down to your undergarments after all, and it's a bit drafty

Ringo notices and before any mention can be made, he sets to work at removing his sweater, eager to make sure you're cared for

It seems to be putting up a bit of a fight, but he manages to come out on top

"Er uh, will this be ok? I know you're fed up with clothes right now, but I don't want you to freeze neither"

He's genuinely concerned about your feelings in the subject, even as he holds the garment out to you

Buuuut... It's cozy and oversized on you, plus it smells comfortingly of him, so you take it

"Hey, that looks better on you then it does me!"

He laughs again, the state of him made a bit more comical by his now frizzed up mop top

You point the issue out to him, grinning yourself, and he shakes it out like a dog

Which, of course, only makes it ten times worse

For the first time that day, you laugh, and it's the most beautiful sound Ringo's ever heard

Feeling a bit better now, Ringo helps you stand and offers you some tea downstairs

You take a few steps, and then stop feeling the draft give rise to some goose bumps all up your legs

"Maybe I should get some pants..."

At the mere suggestion, Ringo looks at you like he has a bright idea and immediately goes to undo his belt

You burst out laughing, and stop him

He's confused at first, but when he realizes his own absurdity in his effort to be helpful, he can't help but laugh a little too

In the end, you come to the conclusion that a blanket and a cuddle on the couch will do nicely instead... Which is exactly what you do

Ringo spends the rest of the day keeping you entertained, warm, and covered in kisses

[supernatural-freek]

Park Avenue

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: It’s game night in the Bunker. Dean takes it a little too seriously. Sam and Cas are there to win. You’re honestly just there for the food.

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST

See, the thing is, Dean’s pretty fucking bad at Monopoly.

Consider also: he’s a sore loser and can spend hours bitching about the fact that he lost.

So, as per Sam’s brilliant suggestion, you play Monopoly. Because it’s always nice to fucking destroy Dean at something. Cas tags along for the ride, because he doesn’t quite understand Monopoly yet, but he can play better than Dean and he enjoys being the little thimble. He also enjoys the houses.

Dean lands in jail in the first round.

“motherfucker!” He seethes, slamming his piece (the little dog, of course, and he literally drew blood to obtain that piece, you have the marks to prove it) down on the board hard enough to rattle the others. “What kind of bullshit is this?” “Sucks to suck, Dean.”

“Just wait until we get to Scrabble. I’ll obliterate you.”

“You gotta get out of jail first, bro.”

Dean snuffs and curses and he doesn’t hit anything, but it’s a near thing. You have a bet running with Sam that tonight will be the night that Dean breaks a beer bottle against the wall. You’re gonna make sure you win that bet. If you win, Sam owes you soooooo many fucking milkshakes.

Anyway. 

Typically, by the time someone is clearly winning (Sam), the game is already falling apart. Cas is trying to build a city out of the houses, you and Dean are playing go fish with your property cards, and Dean is casually suggesting you use the Monopoly money for poker.

Sam claims the victory before the game is over. Nobody fights him. Cas doesn’t put this thimble away. “I identify with this object,” he says, but he won’t tell you why he identifies with a fucking thimble. Dean just gives you a long-suffering look and helps pack up.

.

There’s a common misconception that Sam is the book-smart sibling of the Winchester trio. It’s all a lie. A conspiracy fed to the world by God. Because you sit Dean down in front of a Scrabble board and he pulls out shit like quixotic and equalise and syzygy.

It’s pretty fucking awful if you’re honest. 

Dean wins by a landslide.

Nobody wants to play another round.

.

Of course, board games can only hold the appeal for so long. There’s only so many times you can fail at the English language, only so many times you can go bankrupt, only so many times you can pay trouble before the dice dome thing starts to get hit a little too hard. Cas doesn’t even want to play properly. He just marches his men along, humming a low tune to keep them in time. It’s adorable.

It defeats the point of the game.

So Dean busts out the Wii, puts in Mario Kart, and then all hell breaks loose.

“Fuck you!” You screech as you topple off the edge of Rainbow Road and plummet towards death in a ball of angry fire. “Dean, we are the same team!”

Dean cackles as he crosses the finish line in first place, seconds before the blue shell makes contact. “Sorry girlie, but I’m a one-man machine!”

Your character, Yoshi obviously, crosses in third, and you toss your remote down on the sofa only to launch yourself at your brother. Dean laughs as he lets out are him down, playfully wresting with you on the floor as Sam gently coaxes Cas along in 11th place and 12th place respectively. 

“This is a very visually appealing track,” Cas says pleasantly as Princess Peach meanders along the road. “I can see why this one was chosen first.”

Sam has restrained murder in his voice when he says, “Castiel, you’re my friend and I would hate to have to burn your body. Hurry up.”

Cas does not hurry up. 

Dean elbows you in the face. You bite at his wrist. He yanks your hair. You kick his thigh. It’s really rather aggressive but you’re both breathless from hysterical laughter, so it’s all okay. Because Dean’s grip isn’t restrictive, it’s grounding, more like a damn bear hug than any type of trapping hold he’s used on people before. He’s warm, and comfortable, and you settle your weight somewhat awkwardly on him as you both watch Cas cross the finish line.

Princess Peach wails with dismay. Cas turns to you and Dean with the brightest smile and says, “I like this game. Perhaps we can choose another track that had a strong aesthetic?”

Sam selects Maple Treeway. You and Dean scramble up from the ground, diving for the remotes as the timer counts down. 

“Sorry Deano,” you say meanly as you launch away from the starting line. “Maple Treeway is my shit.”

He knocks you with his foot and Yoshi skids off to the side. “Wait until we get to Koopa Kape,” he mutters, looking very angry at being in 4th. “I swear if you beat me at the end, I���m going to fill all of your shampoo bottles with permanent dye.”

“Jokes on you,” you shoot back, laying down a perfect trap with your three banana peels. “I change the colour of my hair weekly. I’ll be totally down for whatever colour you’re gonna try and get me with.”

Dean curses and chooses to ram you off the road. 

You take that motherfucker down with you.

.

Neither you nor Dean come first overall. King Boo, the dumbass ghost, cheers on the podium. Yoshi dances in second place. Waluigi (Dean), Peach (Cas) and Daisy (Sam) watch jealously from the sideline.

“Sucks to suck,” you sing-song, only for Dean’s socked foot to connect with your ribs. “Hey!”

Before the two of you can start grappling again, Sam clears his throat. “I think we’ve worn our resident angel out,” he says softly, gently taking Cas’s remote from his hand. 

The angel clearly isn’t fully asleep, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is steady and slow. He looks peaceful, dressed in some of Dean’s old slacks and one of Sam’s shirts instead of his suit.

You reach over and gently comb Cas’s hair away from his face. “He’s adorable,” you coo.

Dean rolls his eyes and tugs you back, taking your place and gently shaking Cas awake. “Come on,” he says, too gruffly to be anything but fond. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Cas grumbles a complaint, but easily follows Dean’s hands up off the couch, stumbling after the hunter as Dean guides him down the hallway. Sam shakes his head with a small huff, switching off the Wii and starting to clear the remotes and empty snack dishes.

“Here,” you say, joining him. You clean the rubbish up as Sam takes a stack of plates back to the kitchen. Someone will do the dishes tomorrow. You gather the empty beer bottles and sweep them into your arms, carrying them to the bin and dumping them with a loud crash.

Sam bids you a warm goodnight, pressing a swift kiss to your forehead before ambling away to his room. You blow out a breath before dragging yourself to Cas’s room. Dean’s still there, tucking the angel in.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds you might make, because it’s just so damn cute! You know that Dean’s a mother hen, despite his attempts to suppress that softness. He cares for his fucked up family, and if that isn’t the sweetest thing...

“Your turn for bed, missy,” he says once he’s made sure Case is comfortable. The angel is already dropping back off the sleep, head snuggling into the soft pillows. Dean snorts and eases the door closed behind him. “You reckon you can use those puppy dog eyes of yours tomorrow, get Sam to do the dishes?”

You pout. “But Dean, the kitchen is your area.” He gently taps the back of your head. “Ow! Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

He slings an arm around your shoulder and draws you close as you walk. “Good. That’s what I thought.”

You remember getting back to your room, remember someone helping you taking your socks off before the simpleness of warmth. Hands easing the covers over you, a palm gently smoothing your hair back and knuckles soothing down the side of your face. 

A gentle press of lips to your forehead, just to the side of where Sam had planted his kiss, and then the light turns out and you sink into the soft darkness of sleep, content.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Reader/ OC trying to keep her orgasms on the inside because she doesn’t like how she sounds.

This is going to be pretty long and detailed. Figured I could add this bit into an idea I had. I wanted to write it out just like this 😩.First time using an OC. Enjoy lovelies xoxoxo

Hello, it’s your girl Ebony here and you’re listening to The Love Zone. We already have a caller number one on the line...

“Hello?” Élise timidly spoke into the phone while seated in her dimly lit living room. There was a 100% chance of showers that evening and rainy nights were the perfect nights for her. Alone in a home she inherited from her grandmother in Marigny, New Orleans, Élise decided to call The Love Zone on WQUE-FM, New Orleans mainstream urban radio station. Ebony Starr was a famous Sexologist and radio personality from Bywater, New Orleans. She inspired Élise to start her own podcast that she titled Finally Exhaled which discusses overcoming past toxic relationships and starting new ones.

“Caller number one?” Ebony said into the microphone. Her voice echoed since Élise could hear it twice.

“Yes,” she licked some cocoa butter from her lips, “I’m caller number one.”

“Alright, love, do you have a question for me?”

“I’m a huge fan,” she nervously laughs, “Just...I didn’t expect you...to answer my call.”

“You’re so sweet, honey, thank you,” Ebony made Élise smile, “what’s your name?”

“Yolanda,” that was her mother’s name.

“Yolanda, Pretty name. I know a lot of Yolanda’s.”

“Yeah,” she toyed with her long dreaded hair.

“Why are you up so late, Yolanda? No work for tomorrow?”

It was 11:00 pm. She worked as a waitress in a bar and grill but that was just to keep busy. She was an only grandchild left with her grandmothers money. Her Father didn’t like the fact that she got everything. Typical. He wasn’t around so why did it matter to him?

“Work tomorrow evening,” she pondered for a moment, “Now I remember my question.”

Ebony laughs, “go ahead, what’s your question?”

Wiggling her toes at the fireplace she opens her mouth to speak, “How do I overcome being embarrassed by the way I sound when I orgasm and moan? I’m nervous to even ask this question but it’s been bothering me and I just...I don’t like it.”

“Hmm,” Ebony’s smooth hum reassured her, “Why don’t you like the way you sound, Yolanda?”

“It’s-its because I was told it was ugly mainly. My last boyfriend-shitty boyfriend by the way, told me I sounded like a dying animal,” Élise chuckles, “I want to move past that and embrace the way I sound whenever the moment happens for me again but...”

“You’re afraid the next man will find it just as ugly and look at you weird?”

“Yes, ugh,” Élise closes her eyes, “What the hell should I do?”

“Honestly? Embrace it. That sound is a beautiful sound, Yolanda. One of the sounds of love making. When it’s real and sudden like that it makes you stutter out incoherent words and sounds but only a real man, an experienced appreciative man, would love to hear those noises. How old were you when he told you this?”

“I was 20 years old. That was when we first started dating. A start to a long toxic relationship.” She didn’t mean to vent like that but she couldn’t help it. Her ex, Sean, was such an emotional abuser. He shot her down every chance he got to make her feel ugly. That was for four whole years. She was 25 now and wanted to heal from that.

“Oh, that explains it,” Ebony made a noise of disapproval, “See, boys don’t know a thing, honey. I’m happy you’re not in that toxic relationship anymore and there is a man out there that will love every screaming orgasm you have. Especially if he’s the cause.”

“I know you’re right but gosh,” what man anyway? The closest she’s ever come to a man since then was working at that bar and they all were too pushy and drunks. She was loosing all hope honestly.

“Yolanda, when was the last time you had sex?”

“Over a year ago.”

“You’re craving sex heavy, sweetie. You want to give yourself to someone badly and a year can do that. I don’t think it was only the way you sound it’s a trust thing as well. Sean betrayed your trust.

Bingo.

“I’m better now. I can trust but I just don’t know where to start.”

“There is no rush. Let it come to you, honey. Once it does...accept it. Feel it. If you can listen to yourself moan and shout when you orgasm alone then you can definitely do it in front of a man again. I bet you sound angelic.”

Élise blushes.

“I actually heard that smile through the phone, Ebony laughs, “Sweety, let that moan out, snatch a man’s soul, and feed that craving.”

Élise laughs pleasantly, “I really needed this thank you so much, Miss Starr.”

“Please, If you need to talk you could always come to my meet and greets and workshops in The French Quarter.”

“I’d like that,” Élise smiles wide with her high cheek bones, “thanks again, Ebony.”

“Thank you, Yolanda. Enjoy the rest of your evening, love.”

The line disconnected. Élise places her phone on the carpeted floor and thought about their conversation. She was pining for sex. She wanted her year back. A year of no dick or lips on her pussy. Sex toys over used and calling her name as we speak.

Let’s take it slow with some Beyoncé- Dangerously in Love 2...

Baby I love you/You are my life/My happiest moments weren’t complete if you weren’t by my side/You’re my relation/In connection to the sun/With you next to me/There’s no darkness I can’t overcome/You are my raindrops/ I am your seed...

The rain was coming down in sheets, banging against Élise’s rough top like bullets. There was no lightning or thunder. She was glad that she got the lighting in her grandmothers home fixed because if she didn’t the power would be out and Élise did not want to go into that cobwebbed basement to find candles. Last time she went down there she saw a possum. Élise has on nothing but a retro Voodoo Fishing T-shirt while seated in front of the fireplace. She finally stands, the heat of the flames warming her butt before she walked back to the couch where her crinkled copy of Roar of Thunder, Hear My Cry rested on top of a quilt.

She couldn’t sleep and Beyoncé had her singing with her eyes closed. Grabbing her Walt Disney World coffee mug that had lukewarm herbal tea in it, Élise snuggled into the couch while facing a small window just above the heater in her living room.

I hope everyone is being safe on this stormy Friday night. We have another caller on the line, caller number two?

Élise tunes in.

“I’m still unfaithful to my husband. I can’t shake the need to be with the other man. Just tonight I came home after frantic car sex in an open lot. I want to tell him...I want to tell him I’m happy with the other man.”

“Wow,” Élise loves this juicy talk. She could faintly hear Rihanna-Unfaithful play in the background which causes her to giggle. Ebony was hilarious.

Whew, honey, juggling two men?

“SHIT!”

Élise’s head shot up from the couch. The angry shout came from outside. Maybe someone was locked out the house, she thought. Élise covered herself with the quilt further to listen to more of The Love Zone.

You are killing this man. Just tell him the truth. I can hear the pain in your voice. If you want to end this the right way stop stringing him along and communicate...

Thump

A rather loud kick could be heard from outside. Now, her interest was peaked. Élise tosses the quilt back , tiptoeing to the window with her mug still in hand. She could see a little better only because the house had a porch. But it was still foggy. A man was outside with his hazards flashing. He had to have been out there for a minute with how drenched he was messing under the hood of his car. No lightning or thunder. Just the rain, but the rain was more than enough to make the situation extremely uncomfortable.

Élise couldn’t see him that clearly as he hopped in and out of his car every minute or so, probably trying to warm up before trying something else to get his car moving again. Thanks to the street lamp about twenty feet from where he parked she could make out the type of car. A Ford Mustang 2006. It was parked beside a neighbor of hers that she didn’t like at all. His name was Kevin and he was a white supremacist. Nothing new in the South. No family but she could have sworn she heard screams from his house...

“Fuck!” The man shouts again. Élise felt kind of guilty. She had no idea why. She was sure most of her neighbors saw him stranded out there as well. As quiet as her neighborhood is, something out of the ordinary rarely goes unnoticed. However, the fact that the man was still out there struggling on one of the worst nights, weather-wise, of the year didn’t sit right with her. What harm would it be to offer to let him into her home so he could properly make a call for a Tow service or have a nice cup of tea and a hot meal? Loan a flashlight, or let him warm up by the fireplace for a moment?

Élise stares down at what she was wearing again. That retro Voodoo Fishing T-shirt. Élise went to the closet to grab her red longline puffer coat and black Hunter rain boots. She grabs a flashlight from the closet shelf, trying it out to see if it worked. A couple slaps with it to the palm of her hand made the old thing ignite and she was headed for the door. Élise swung the front door open like a women on a mission. She stomps across her front porch and right down the steps, pulling the back of her coat up over her head to keep from getting her dreads wet.

“Excuse me!” She yelled out from the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street from where the man was parked. He looked in her direction, and she could finally make out his soaked face. She was not disappointed.

“Wassup?!” He responded loudly, “This rain is a bitch!”

“Yeah, it is! Do you need some help?! It’s pretty cold out too my place is warm!”

He kept a steady gaze on her from under his hood. He had this look on his face as if that were a bad idea. Now, Élise was regretting it.

“Are you waiting for someone?!” She started up the conversation again. Her legs were so wet now.

“Nah!” He shook his head and from what Élise could make out she saw short dreads fall over his forehead, “Listen, it’s bad out here, sweetheart why don’t you go back inside, huh?!”

“You sure?!” She pointed her flashlight to the house, “My offer still stands if you change your mind!”

“Thanks, I appreciate it, ma!”

Even though it was dark she could see his smile. Damn, he was good-looking. All that out here melting in the rain. Élise turned to run back to the porch only to fall right on the concrete. She felt both her knees hit the ground. She wailed in pain. Her hands planted to the ground and she tried lifting up but her rain boots slipped right from under her. She could feel hot tears prick her eyes.

“SHIT!!! Hey, Ma!” He called out. Élise could hear heavy feet splashing in the flooded streets and then a pair of wet hands grabbing her waist and lifting her all the way up into bridal style. She squinted her eyes up at the nice-looking man with the fucked up car. He started walking back to her porch. He sat her down on an old chained swing chair before removing his black hoodie and tossing it on the swing chair with her. It was probably uncomfortable walking around with heavily soaked fabric. One thing was for sure: he was built. He had on a charcoal gray tee that was hugging his body something fierce. Élise could make out his physique thanks to him being up close and personal now. Then there was those dreads. They fit his rugged look so perfectly. He definitely wasn’t from around here.

“What are you doing out here? It’s bad, sweetheart, you could have cracked your head open on the ground instead.”

She blinked up at him with timid eyes. He softened his stern ones before his eyes closed. His hands finger combed his dreads back before he shook his head to stop the dripping water.

“My bad,” he looked down at her on the swing chair, “you’re probably thinking who the fuck he think he is talking to me,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Not at all,” Élise looked away and down at her lap. He was right. She was so quick to come running to the rescue. It was almost flooded outside.

“Let me see the damage,” He crouches down to look at her knees, “just scraped skin but it needs to be cleaned off.”

His onyx eyes landed on hers before turning back to his car. Élise studies the back of his smooth neck and the curve of his ears. It seemed like forever that he was staring at his car.

“I have everything in my house I can take care of it. Thank you though.”

He turned back with a tilt of his head. His eyes looked up at her house while his fingers lazily drummed on the swing chair.

“My name is Erik.” He reached out to shake her hand.

“I’m Élise,” she grabbed it and noticed some cuts on his knuckles, “looks like you need some help too.”

Erik drew his hand back before covering his knuckles by folding his arms, “Shit, I forgot that was even there.”

“No worries, I’m not afraid of blood.” She clarified.

“You must not be afraid of much talking to a stranger at 12 in the morning in the rain.”

His tone was serious. Élise looked away from him with a shy smile.

“I have a big heart and my shitty neighbors wouldn’t help you out so I figured what the hell I can do it.”

“Not much happens around here, huh?” He asked with attentive eyes.

“No, it’s pretty quiet,” she took in every inch of him with her eyes. The tight charcoal gray shirt was damp and exposing every single muscle. She liked his short dreads, almond colored skin, and long, sexy eyelashes.

“You could have knocked on someone’s door to give you a jump.”

“Ha,” his chuckle was dry, “You don’t answer doors when strangers knock, baby girl. And I don’t trust knocking on doors in this neighborhood. I’m lucky you even stepped out,” he smiled faintly, “like a breath of fresh air.”

“I agree,” she changed it up, “it’s just-“

“Don’t explain yourself. It’s cool,” Erik stands, stretching out the muscles in his arms. His eyes were studying her home with a new found curiosity.

“In this world we live in, you never know what you might find knocking on someone’s door. Most people are suspicious, especially of us black men.”

“True,” she stood with him, wrapping her coat around her, “so...do you wanna come in?”

He licked his lips and placed his hands in his black cargo pants pockets. He looked like he was freezing and she could see his cold breath.

“Erik, I have blankets and dry shirts,” she beemed up at him.

He squinted his eyes playfully at her before his head fell forward with defeat. Success.

“A blanket does sound nice. But, as tiny as you are, I doubt I could fit into one of your shirts.”

Élise thought she saw a flicker of lust in his eyes when he said that. At least, a part of her hoped she saw lust.

“Unless...” He gave her quizzical expression, “your boyfriend got some shirt he left behind.”

Élise blushes, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She could tell he was fighting a grin. Élise finally turned to lead the way back into her place, Erik grabbing his hoodie and walking through the door. The second he ended up in there he felt his body defrost and dry.

“Fuck,” he ran his hands over his short dreads, “I’m glad I let my pride down for once and let you help me. A nigga was cold.”

“Uh-Huh,” Élise laughs, “I see your skin warming up, Erik.”

“Oh yeah, I’m nice and toasty now,” He smiles flirtatiously.

“Hungry? Thirsty?”

“Nah, I’m cool.”

“Tow service?”

“Not available and...I’d rather not,” His jaw clenched.

“Well...” Élise shrugs, “looks like you’re staying the night, Erik.”

Erik raised a brow at her before looking around him to get acquainted.

She felt comfortable with him even though he was considered a stranger. Her grandmother would have higher blood pressure than what she already had if she knew what she’d just done. The thought of having some kind of company that night made her feel a lot better and less lonely. Élise finally locks her door and went to her closet to take off her boots and coat. It was all or nothing.

“Closet is free to put your boots and hoodie in.”

She was so damn comfortable around him that she forgot about only being in her T-shirt. Erik stood back with his arms folded watching Élise move and the fabric of the shirt sink in between her ass cheeks. She was sexy for sure. The second she kicked off her boots Erik could see the flesh of her butt... bare flesh.

This girl is serious? He thought.

Ass swinging while she moved. She was a cutie with a nice body. Alone in this big home. All that alone with no man. Shit didn’t make sense. Maybe she was just fucking someone. Erik began walking up to her while she took off her puffer coat to hang. Long slender dreads with shells in it. He wanted to pull on the coarse hair.

“Thanks, Élise,” He was so stealthy that she hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to her. Elise’s back stiffened and her body tried to step away to give him space but Erik was already taking off his boots and hanging up his hoodie. She caught a whiff of his cologne causing her to nibble on her bottom lip. He didn’t smell like liquor and cigarettes like the men at the bar and grill she worked at. He smelled like rain, sweat, and what she recognized was Gucci Guilty men’s cologne. She remembered that smell from when she was in Macy’s sniffing around in the perfume section. It was intimate and warm at the same time.

“Don’t worry, your blankets will smell like me even when I leave, baby girl.”

She was caught red handed.

“I’m sorry,” she stroked a few dreads from her face, “Your cologne smells really good.”

We’re they really standing in the closet? She dropped the flashlight on the floor when Erik leaned in towards her to smell her now. He was more than comfortable around her. He acted like he knew her.

“You smell like coconut oil,” He gave her a coy smile, “I like that.” Erik crouched down in the small space to pick up the flashlight.

“T-thanks.” Élise licked her dry lips. She needs more cocoa butter.

“So, nice closet,” He teased.

“Yeah...very spacious,” she awkwardly tried to joke back.

Just show me around, ma, since I’m gonna be sleeping here tonight. Unless...you changed your mind?”

He leaned in toward her with a slight raise of his brow and parted lips. He knew he had hers shooken up.

“Yeah, I have a spare bedroom and the couch pulls out into a bed.”

Erik’s eyes trailed up and down her body, “Pull out couch is fine.”

Élise finally let out the breath she’d been holding once Erik stepped away and into her living room. She watched him look around like he was in a museum, staring at her family photos and the art on the walls. Élise has redecorated since moving in two years ago.

“This you?” Erik had a wide smile on his face while pointing to a photo on the ledge of the fireplace. Élise walked over, spotting the photo in question. Oh, yes, when her hair was in a kinky fro, nose piercing, college T-shirt on two sizes too small, tiny denim shorts, and laying in the grass with her ass sitting out and ready to be grabbed.

“Looking like a little rebel,” He picked that photo up studying it with unrelenting eyes. She shuddered.

“Very sexy,” Erik commented and then he gave Élise that look. She turned away from him; she didn’t want him to see the desire in her eyes. She was beginning to have second thoughts about kissing and possibly fucking a complete stranger. No need to deny herself her own thoughts. She’s been thinking that the second he looked up at her from across the street in the rain.

“Where are you from, Erik?”

He placed the picture back on the fireplace ledge, “California.”

Élise was intrigued.

“Why New Orleans?” She followed him to the couch where he started pulling it out into a bed.

“Business,” He kept it short. She didn’t pry further because she sensed that he didn’t want her to know the nature of his “business.”

“How do you like it so far?”

He gathered the bottom of his shirt, bringing it up and over his head while his zealous eyes never left hers, “It’s cool, I’ve been before during Mardi Gras.”

She froze. Was his skin naturally like that? It wouldn’t make since with how neat the bumps were. What would make him do that? He didn’t seem bothered by her eyes taking it all in or the wondering crease in her brow. He wouldn’t tell her, she knew that. The shit was going to eat her alive.

She snapped out of her daze, “I haven’t been to a Mardi Gras since I was 21.”

“Why?” He settles down shirtless on the pullout. His body bathed in the fire. She could feel her tongue tingling to taste his skin. Erik is so sexy.

“It’s so damn wild.”

“Please, girl,” He laughs, “Drunk white people acting a fool ain’t our kind of wild.”

They both laughed.

“When I came that shit was dead i was not partying with them. So, me and a friend hit up some urban spots and listened to some upbeat jazz and ate Cajun food. I met a chick and had some fun with her.”

What kind of fun?

“Sounds a lot better than the time I went.”

Élise stares down at her scraped knees. The crimson peeked through the tiny scratches. Now that her attention was there it was beginning to burn.

“Where’s your bathroom so we can get those cuts cleaned, baby girl?”

Élise pointed to her stairwell, “Upstairs. I can bring it down you don’t have to come with me.”

“Well,” Erik had a roguish expression on his face, “what if I wanna see what upstairs looks like?”

Her wary eyes stared at his wry expression. Erik was definitely being very coy with her.

“You won’t find anything interesting upstairs except for my bedroom.”

Élise’s wistful expression let Erik know without even saying it flat out that she wanted him in her room. He fixed his eyes on her for being that bold with him. She wasn’t so shy. She was a little rebel.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Élise tries to play it off, “I should probably shut up.”

“Let’s go,” Erik stood up, holding his hand out to her. Élise grabs his hand, leading Erik to the staircase and up the creaky steps. It was dark and chilly in the hallway since she didn’t turn on the heat upstairs. She could hear Erik shiver even though his hand was still warm. They made it to her bathroom, Élise turning on the light. She hadn’t changed it around much. Her grandmother still had Élise’s potty from when she was a baby in there. She never let go of things.

“My guess is this house belonged to your grandmother?” Erik finally spoke while standing at the sink.

“Yep. She passed away from breast cancer two years ago.”

“I know how that shit feels, trust me,” Erik opened her medicine cabinet to find a withering first aid kit, “I lost my mom and my dad so I understand.”

Erik motioned for Élise to come to him. When she did he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the sink. Her short yet thick legs swung back and forth reminding her of when she was a child. Erik opened the kit and grabbed some gauze dressing, peroxide, and neosporin.

“You must really enjoy picking me up, stranger,” Élise’s playful eyes sought out Erik’s and the second he smiled revealing those deep dimples in his cheeks she crossed her legs to simmer the heat growing between them. Even the grip she had on the edge of the sing became firmer.

there is a man out there that will love every screaming orgasm you have. Especially if he’s the cause.

Ebony’s words spoke to her again. She was thinking about the sounds she would make if Erik fucked her. He was still shirtless, his cargo pants riding low on his hips showing her that chiseled v-cut of his, and those lashes with his onyx eyes blinked at her like he was trying to read her mind. Lord knows Élise wanted to read his. He was so mysterious and unreadable and that didn’t scare her. It made her want to stake her claim on him. He was visiting New Orleans and maybe she could show him around and they could have some fun of their own. Élise was lonely and friends weren’t enough to fill the void. Not really much family left either. She needed the warmth and comfort of a man.

But Erik looked like the type to break you down piece by piece. She wouldn’t mind him turning her out. Élise didn’t know how long she was staring but Erik’s soft fingers tapping the sides of her thighs broke her out of her dreamy state. Staring down, she could see the fresh gauze covering her wounds. Élise bit into her lip and without being able to control it her high cheek bones puffed out. He made her blush over everything. Why couldn’t he be from New Orleans and not California? Once he left she wouldn’t find another guy around like him. She already crushed on him and she hardly even knew him.

“What did I do to make you blush, pretty girl?”

“What didn’t you do, Erik,” She reaches out for his hands, “let me see.”

He came in closer between her legs, giving her permission to grab his hands and examine his scarred knuckles. It looked pretty bad. Did he beat a brick wall or somebody’s face? She glanced up at him briefly and without saying a word she tended his wounds. His searching expression made her belly flit like butterfly wings. Now, she was rubbing neosporin in carefully. She could feel his eyes leering at her in a sexually suggestive way.

“These are pretty fresh,” she muttered. Élise’s eyes looked from his Adam’s apple bobbing from swallowing spit to his teeth nibbling the corner of his full pouty lip. He didn’t look at her when she said that.

“That’s because they are, Élise,” he says with a low voice. She started wrapping the gauze dressing around his hand. After she was done she didn’t let his hands go. Élise surely didn’t want to. They stood in a comfortable silence and it gave her time to think about his fresh wounds. He didn’t look like the type to go around beating brick walls but faces? That was definitely the answer. And surprisingly, Élise wasn’t afraid. If Erik wanted to rob her or kill her he would have done that already. Instead he was kind to her and he looked at her like he wanted to fuck her. She liked that look a lot.

“Élise.” Erik spoke earnestly.

“Yes?” She said with a soft-spoken voice.

“You’re not afraid of me. Why?”

“Because I know you won’t hurt me.”

She noticed him watching the way her lips moved when she said that. He was admiring the shape of them. Her lips were the perfect proportion. Perfectly symmetrical on the left and the right. Full lips with volume and a plump pout.

“Yeah, baby girl, I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“...but you did hurt someone...”

Erik glides his tongue over his upper teeth, responding but completely ignoring her question, “what if I kissed you right now? That wouldn’t change your mind?”

“No.” Élise said gazing into his eyes.

Erik leans in with his hands bracing the sides of the sink. His lips sparingly touched hers as he spoke. Élise clings to every word while her low eyes stared at his mouth.

“If you lettin’ me put my mouth on yours then you’ll let me put something else on you...am I right?”

Élise has an anxious feeling and Erik wasn’t helping when the flesh of his bottom lip tickled hers every time he spoke. Now, her eyelids were fluttering. Still in nothing but that retro Voodoo Fishing T-shirt and no panties. She wondered if he could smell her arousal towards him.

“Erik-“

“Just answer the question, Élise.”

“Yes, I would.”

“If you’re not afraid of me you would answer my questions,” Erik moved his lips to her ear, his hard chest touching her clothed one. Élise shuddered when his warm breath tickled her ear, “Why are you so comfortable around me with this little ass T-shirt on and no panties?”

“H-How do you know I don’t have on panties?”

“Because,” the hair from his beard touched her neck, “I could see that ass from the back when you were in that closet, ma.”

She hung on to his captivating voice while staring at the side of his neck. Élise was sweating from how turned on she was and he didn’t even kiss her yet.

“That’s what I’m talking about. You act like you know me...what if I would have pulled that shirt up to get a better look at that ass?”

Élise gasps at his words, turning to look at him with alluring eyes. What if he would have done that? He was already so close to her. Now she was imagining him bending her over in that closet and going deep in her pussy from the back. She found that to be very sexy and thrilling. Élise’s grandmother was probably turning over in her grave right now. Her granddaughter letting a strange and clearly very dangerous man into her home and allowing him to seduce her. 

Erik takes his hands to rest on her thighs. He moved them up and down in a slow motion keeping a steady gaze on Élise to see if she would flinch away. No, she was enjoying the firmness of his hands. He knew exactly what he was doing. Élise could feel his fingertips hit the bottom of her T-shirt. Damn...he was so close.

“Élise, you so damn thick, girl.”

“Thank you.” She bit down on her tongue to fight her ugly moan. At least that’s what she thought it was. Her eyes descended when she felt Erik lift the bottom of her shirt. Unhurried and gentle Erik lifts that T-shirt up to reveal Élise’s shaved mound. The phat flesh sat between her plush thighs like a surprise treat.

“Damn, you just letting me do this, huh?”

“Yes,” she let out an airy sigh, “I am.”

“Been too long, ma?” Erik had a wolfish expression on his face, “shit, you nice and phat down there too.”

Erik pulled her shirt back down and Élise’s heart sank before his pillowy lips finally connected with hers so suddenly. Her head almost collided with the mirror from how alarmed she was. Her hands reached up to cup his face while she allowed this man to fuck her mouth with his tongue. She tried to keep up with him but in the end Erik conquered her. His mouth tasted amazing. Now, he was gripping her curvy waist with his forceful hands and practically pulling her into his body. Their heads moved from side to side and their lips smacked and sucked on each other’s. A tiny yelp escaped her mouth when Erik sank his teeth into her bottom lip before drawing back. He licks his lips in one motion all the way around his mouth and Élise was officially hungry for more of him. A man coming in from the rain. A man she would have never expected would be kissing her on her bathroom sink. It was so risky.

“Ahhhh!” She moaned instantaneously. His lips and teeth were on her neck. Shit, Élise actually moaned. Why was she even worried? She actually sounded quite nice. Erik was bruising her skin with the right suction of his lips. If it felt like that on her neck it would feel just as good on her hard nipples and clit. The surface of the sink was moist from her pussy rubbing and gliding along the surface.

“Taste so goddam good, girl,” he flattened his tongue and licked her neck, “so sweet.”

“God, Erik,” she moaned, “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me.”

“I can,” He chuckles, “You like that I’m doing this to you. I can tell you’ve been loosing out, ma, got you all sweaty and breathing deep.”

“I just can’t...believe...fuck, Erik.”

His hands grabbed her breasts, circling them and tweaking her nipples through her shirt. He was torturing her at this point. Élise wanted him to rip that shirt off her body.

“You’re driving me crazy,” She whispered, “Erik,” her voice was so hushed and heavenly. The man in question was just as frazzled as her. Panting, a sheen of sweat on his skin, his dick hardening and thickening against her inner thighs.

“Élise...I wanna fuck you.” He grabs her hips to keep her still, “listen to me,” his thumb came up to stroke her dimples chin, “...I wanna fuck you so good, girl. You need to take some good dick.”

“It’s been so long,” she bit into her pouty lip.

“Shit, how long?” He was running his hands through her dreaded strands.

“I feel,” she shivers, “I feel so embarrassed saying it,” Élise’s murmured like she was telling a huge secret.

“You can tell me...don’t be scared, girl.”

“A year,” she closed her eyes.

What the fuck. An entire year. Élise was yearning, longing, craving, and hungry for some dick and attention. Part of Erik wondered if that was one of the reasons why she let him into her home.

“Aye,” Erik soothes her, “that’s a long time, baby girl, but I can help you out with that,” Erik takes her hand to kiss it gently before speaking against her knuckles, “I can make you feel better....”

“Erik.”

“You know you want me to...let me make you feel good...” He kissed her hand again while staring into her eyes. Erik felt her thighs quiver around his waist.

“I got you, ma.”

“Erik,” she kept whispering at him and it had him grunting and painfully hard, “I’m so wet, I can’t believe it...Erik.”

She’s so beautiful. God, Erik needed this right now. He needed her ass.

“Élise, girl, I swear to fucking God-“

“Erik, please, Erik.”

Élise unexpectantly lifts both of her legs to the sink, her entire T-shirt bunched up around her waist now showing Erik all that wet juicy pink. Pussy looking like a wet piece of fruit. A peach drizzled in honey. Tight slit with puffy suckable lips. Erik’s eyes were vicious. He reached out to keep her thighs back since she wanted it that way. Then, in a blink of an eye, he had her pushed back against the mirror with her ass hanging over the edge of that sink.

“Oh? You itchin’ for me, ain’t you? opening up your fucking legs like that. Just telling me I can have it? Girl, I will beat this pussy up right on this motherfucking sink. Fucking playing with me if you want...”

She caved when she saw him spit thickly on her pussy. She drew her lips into her mouth. Élise could feel the saliva practically slap her clit. He was so fucking nasty. She just knew that Erik would have her making all types of noises.

“Still ain’t scared, huh?”

“No.” Her voice shook even though she said no.

Erik’s head went down between her legs. He stuck his tongue out as far as it could go and began licking the underside of her clit back and forth. Élise clenched her teeth, the sounds begging to escape her mouth.

“I don’t hear nothing. If you ain’t afraid why don’t I hear you moaning, baby girl?”

Erik went in again slurping her up and licking in a deadly pattern. She felt him tug on her clit and inner folds. She was ready to cum already.

“Erik, Erik I-Stop it, I’m-Erik, please, please I’m-oh my God you’re-you’re making me-Ooooh you’re making me-“

Like it wasn’t in her own control, Élise moaned as her orgasm erupted from her. Her eyes squeezed shut and the so called animalistic sounds escaped her mouth. She was choking on her moans and she hated that she couldn’t control it but this fucking man...he was eating her. Making up for that year. Every month fueling him to suck and lick on that pussy some more. Even after she came he still covered her with his entire mouth and spit. She waited and waited for him to say she sounded ugly or look at her bizarrely but no. Instead he says...

“Good fucking girl. That’s right, cum in this mouth. Shit, cum all you want, do it, baby girl.”

Thank god for his car breaking down.

“Yes!”

“Uh-Huh, you want some more!”

She nodded her head with vigorously.

“Look at you,” Erik bit his lip while thumbing her clit, “look at you shaking and moaning,” his motions increased, “cumming again? That pussy cummimg for me? she ready to bust for me, Élise?”

“Mmmm, Erikkkk, baybeee!”

“You just keep on going?” He smiled.

“I-I’m sorry,” her body spasmed, “I can make a lot of mess.”

Élise was referring to her squirting habit.

“You can squirt all over Daddy whenever you like,” He inserts two fingers inside of her. She rolled her eyes shut, body vanquished but feeining for more.

“Grabbing my fingers like that? Gon’ head and cum...better yet fuck these fingers. Get you some, ma, pop that pussy on these fingers.”

Her hips lifted to get all of his fingers as he dug deep.

“Ooh...ooh...look at you...got my dick heavy in these pants.”

Élise watched him grab his dick. He was so long. She couldn’t wait to see it. And fuck it. And suck it...

“Damn, shit, I can’t wait to pound that puss.”

She shouted out again, pussy convulsing around his thick fingers. Her throat was raw from how hard she screamed.

“So fucking beautiful. Shit don’t make no sense.”

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @rent-emspoons @abluesforlyssa

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

HITMEN AU! | HEAD CANONS | 19+ [HAIKYUU!!]

𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖜𝖆 [PART i] [PART ii]

Here’s the second part to Shiratorizawa~! Next will be Johzenji~!! Hehe chaotic babies I’m excite uwuwuwu I hope you guys enjoy these ones as well, and as always thank you all so much for the support and love~! ;;

» » Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

Y̷u̷n̷o̷h̷a̷m̷a̷

Another one of the snipers on the team. Though he’s not on the field often, he helps Semi and Shirabu around with training and getting the rookies familiar with the guns in their arsenal.

More so seen as the technician of the group. The person who fixes and adjusts any weapons for the group members if something doesn’t necessarily work out in their favor

Though quiet and not really spoken out, he’s a vital member of the team.

He enjoys being able to help and provide his expertise in arsenal knowledge to the team . 

Usually ends up shadowing Tendo during interrogations to make sure he doesn’t go too far with his interrogations.

“Hm? An addition?”

Though the question had been poised, the male was already grabbing the device. Various ideas floating around his mind at what he could do to help the other before him as the rookie in question couldn’t help but sit pouting.

“Yeah, I just need something that’ll help me engage in close targets much more easily! I keep having a hard time taking them down in one swing like Ushijima-san...”

Now with a clearer picture of what exactly was needed, the technician went ahead and rummaged around the various chests he had filled with weapons. Each with their own specifications before finding the proper blades as he returned to the other.

“I don’t think you need an addition. Rather a change of weapons. Test those out on your next target and come back to let me know how it goes. Yeah?”

The glee and excitement that was held in the other’s eyes explained enough for him as he chuckled before waving the younger off. 

“Now then, let’s see about testing these new toys...”

Average height with a strong build, he’s one of the more sturdier members of the team. 

Prefers to have a shaved head as it keeps any sort of obstructions out of his view to make sure his work is precise and perfect.

Has the most tattoos out of all the members of Shiratoriawa to the point he actually has some on his scalp.

Pretty indifferent with his s/o 

he’s doting and loving when he needs to be, and purposefully will keep them in the dark about the life he lives at night.

K̴e̴n̴j̴i̴r̴o̴ ̴S̴h̴i̴r̴a̴b̴u̴

The main sniper sent out into the field to cover the rookies and mid-level missions that are given to the team.

One of the best shots, but like Fukurodani’s sniper Akaashi, he’s not entirely well known; and he prefers it that way.

He has a wide variety of skills under his belt, but he finds the most comfort behind the sniper rifle and secretly enjoys the perfect head shot kills. 

Despite being one of the main snipers, he always turns to Semi and Yunohama for advice whenever he comes to a point where he’s unsure of how he wants to continue with a certain sequence of moves. 

Similar to Tendo, he can be a tad psychotic when it comes to intervening with a target or having to engage in close combat. 

“Tch. You really could’ve made this easier on yourself....but I suppose it’s fine. I need to relieve some stress anyway, and what a perfect punching bag I have.”

His voice was devoid of emotions. The malicious intent that was swirling in his eyes had the target sweating in unease as they turned, attempting to put as much distance as possible between them and the enraged sniper. Though found that the effort was futile as a sharp pain ran through their leg. Their form collapsing as the male approached. 

“Oops, slipped outta my hand. Sorry about that, let’s try that again shall we?”

The dagger that had been once sheathed in the male’s thigh holster was now embedded into their thigh. Blood oozing from the wound as they tried desperately to get away.

“....maybe I should break those legs of yours so you won’t try to run away. I’m not one for a chase...”

One of the slightly shorter members, though closer to average height. 

He’s body type is much more lean than built. 

Has a couple of tattoos, not too many and an undercut styled asymmetrical sort of bob. (Will purposefully make fun of Goshiki’s hair style)

Can be a tad bipolar with his s/o. Mainly because of how chaotic he is when he’s with the members themselves, but tries hard to maintain a sort of ‘normal’ appearance with them.

Acts more so like a Tsundere with them than anything else. 

T̷a̷i̷c̷h̷i̷ ̷K̷a̷w̷a̷n̷i̷s̷h̷i̷

Works alongside Ohira and Tendo back at base, but more so with Tendo.

One of the other interrogators if Tendo happens to take too much time with a victim. Because of his emotionless exterior and blank expression it’s always a sort of mental game for those trying to out smart him during an interrogation.

Most definitely picked up some of Tendo’s more...torturous methods. 

Also frequents to Yunohama for new tools and toys to test on the ‘subjects’ that are brought to him.

The silence that surrounded the room unnerved the subject. With their form immobilized on the cold metal tray that was to be their ‘bed’ the panic they felt would only gradually increase.

“..Mm, just so you’re aware, you aren’t tied down...rather you’ve just been injected with an immobilizer, but don’t worry. You’ll feel every little thing.”

His words held so much malice that tears rolled out from the victim’s eyes. The desire to scream and thrash so strong in their system, but the lack of response from their body only served to confirm the horrors the young male before them said.

“Don’t be too scared, it’ll be a good time to....get to know one another...”

One of the taller members. 

Has a strong build that adds to the intimidating factor he already possesses. 

Mostly has battle scars and more piercings than tattoos, though he does have a small handful of them.

It’s very hard for him to communicate with his s/o as he isn’t super in touch with his emotions.

Honestly it’s a surprise that he even has one, but if he does he tries his best to be at least more humane.

T̴s̴u̴t̴o̴m̴u̴ ̴G̴o̴s̴h̴i̴k̴i̴

A close combat assassin in training. He considers Ushijima the ideal, and has considered the older to not only be a rival, but a perfect goal to look up to.

Though his skills with close combat are amazing, he does have trouble attempting to mimic the boss’s moves and skills. It’s only when Semi tells the younger to find his own proper fighting style that he is gifted by Yunohama with a new specialized daggers

it’s tuned to his psychotic tendencies once he’s in the zone, and attempts to try to alleviate the younger’s lust for blood when sent out on missions. 

Has been reprimanded more than once for killing too many people-- mainly because they don’t have a large enough cleaning crew to deal with the fall out.

Thus, he tries to hold back the urge-- also because Tendo continues to pester him about killing off potential victims he could interrogate.

The pounding of blood filled his ears as he stared at the sight before him. A maniacal grin graced his features as he could still feel the warmth of the target’s blood on his fingers. The absolute joy he felt when he managed to kill a disgusting and corrupt man.

Though he was snapped out of his thoughts as a familiar voice rang in his ear. An exasperated sigh and irritated tone filling his head as he laughed awkwardly, flicking the blood from the curved dagger he was given before sheathing it away.

“Any day now Goshiki. I’d really like to go back to base instead of continuing to babysit you while you go on some happy murder spree.”

“Ah! I’m done now! I’m coming up senpai!”

The light tone that fluttered from his voice was a great contrast to the scene he left for their clean-up crew. Though unfortunate, he couldn’t help but happily think of the masterpiece he left behind as he rushed to meet with the older male.

One of the averaged height males within their group, his build is neither too strong or too lean. A perfect medium that allows him to not only have enough power to snap someone’s neck, but agility to pounce on the target with ease.

Isn’t really fond of tattoos or piercings, but has just one on his back. He much rather prefers the scars and healed wounds he’s gained from working out on the field.

Has a bowl haircut that Shirabu will always poke fun at.

He’s a bit sporadic with his s/o. Trying to seem more like a shy tsundere who has his own spurts of excitable energy.

Enjoys cuddling and snuggling with them whenever he gets the chance and won’t hesitate to kill anyone who tries to harm them.

H̷a̷y̷a̷t̷o̷ ̷Y̷a̷m̷a̷g̷a̷t̷a̷

One of the shorter members in their group, but one of the most reliable members.

The team’s clean-up member, who usually ends up having to dispose of a lot of Goshiki’s abstract pieces of human art; and honestly he’s not phased by it. 

Usually the one who’s sent out if one of the members happens to miss a target or a target somehow survives. (Though it’s rare)

Besides clean-up, he’s also one of the top infiltrators of the group. Able to ease his way in to any scenario without a hitch and provide ease of contact with his teammates and the target.

An irritated sigh came from the male as he surveyed the scene before him. The sight gruesome to many, though normal for him. Thankfully, the young assassin had managed to tone down with his little sporadic killing spree. 

“Alright, we’re going to collect the bodies and any missing parts. Bring them here and we’ll see what we can do with the leftovers.”

A quick glimpse to the side and a twitch of movement had him sigh at the tensed up crew he was given for the night.

“Look, I get that you pansies aren’t well...acquainted with our team. But don’t worry. You will soon.”

The look of fear that rolled through their eyes as he effectively stomped down on the twitching figure’s neck had a shiver of unease roll down all their spines as the last bits of life fled from the poor soul’s eyes.

Despite being one of the shorter members, he has a well rounded build. Similar to Goshiki, he isn’t too lean or too built. Rather he’s equipped to be able to handle any sort of situation thrown at him.

Like Goshiki, he doesn’t really have any tattoos or piercings as he prefers the scars and closed wounds he’s earned from his work out on the field.

One of the ‘normal’ ones around their s/o. He’s affectionate and kind with them that he has no problem hiding his true career.

[quatschmachen]

Bitchumen

A nice heartwarming sort of xmas fic. Phone call takes place in 2000, the xmas in 1999.

Edward rants to someone about something.

XXX “Right, like you can actually understand what’s going on.” The sarcasm dripped thick like bitumen from Edward’s tongue, the sticky anger clinging to every surface.“You treating me with the polite decency of a stranger doesn’t actually make you a good person, Calvin – it doesn’t even make you a friend.”

Blowing a breath out, Edward rubbed his face, his shoulders stuck between wanting to spike up in stiff defense or simply drop down in defeat.

“Which is why you get the couch,” here his arms crossed, brooking no argument, “I don’t even know why you thought it was going to be fine just showing up, months after being an asshole thinking I would even put you up. I just know Edith would have you out on your ass, and honestly you’re lucky you got me when I was even in town. Hold on… Mr. Big Shot, you have enough money to get a fucking hotel room, why the shit am I even considering you to stay here with me? Why the hell am I not throwing you out on your ass?”

Another breath out, and Edward sighed, “No, this won’t do.”

With a slump, he plopped onto the couch, and glanced around his small living room, wondering why the hell he was even practicing this as a conversation. Calvin hadn’t dropped by in months. It wasn’t like he was going to any time soon. The lines had been clearly drawn, and even an entitled oil cowboy wasn’t going to pretend everything hadn’t changed.Apparently the weeks off were just giving him time to go crazy. Usually this would be the time he would jet off to Montreal, but instead he was stuck in his house losing it. He was worried if he showed up on Étienne’s doorstep he would just start crying. Definitely not a thing to do.

His thoughts were disrupted as the telephone began to ring. With a sigh, he rolled off the couch and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Eddy!” Étienne’s voice rang out through the phone and wrapped around him like a warm hug.

“’Tienne,” Edward breathed out, automatically relaxing, he flomped down into the seat beside the telephone.

“I’ve been calling for weeks and thought you had died,” he joked, but the edge of worry was still there.

“Sort of had.” Edward murmured, “Actually I sort of moved out, I guess. Mac came down in January and I ended up moving north with him and picked up a hitch. Just got off and am laying around at home too dead to do anything.”

“Hitch?”

“Uhm working in the oil patch. Living at camp, pretty much isolated from the world…”

“Surrounded by big burly men? You could have at least sent me a postcard, Eddy,” Étienne teased, but there was an underlying tone Edward had difficulty deciphering, “I was thinking if it was my turn to come pull you out of the swamp of misery.”

“I guess I could have but… to be honest it all sort of just happened?” Edward sighed, “And once I was up in Fort Mac, and then out working, it’s difficult to really communicate. Just work till you drop, then into the camp to exercise or watch porn.”

“What? They actually supply porn?”

“And sometimes even prostitutes, but that’s apparently not truly allowed…” Edward paused, “but unfortunately no prostitutes were of interest to me.”

“How unfortunate. I was up to my eyeballs with inconvenient work,” Étienne paused, “Christmas was about the same as always, Suzette passes along her best wishes. The food was divine, and I ended up losing an arm-wrestling match to Élyse.”

Edward laughed, “What were the stakes?”

“Hmmm, well she got to eat my slice of cake; it was some terrible cake Samuel had made – yes I know, please believe me when I say he made this cake. Truly no real artisan of food would have produced something as terrible as that cake. I think it ostensibly was supposed to be a fruit cake – with a thick layer of chalky marzipan on top. Somehow he managed to over-alcohol a cake while having it be dry at the same time. I was ready to submit it to the Guinness Book of Records…”

“So why was Élyse battling you for your slice?”

“You see, I may have already had a fight or two with Samuel – he has some new boytoy, and he was being so insipid and sickly about it, I may have been ready to fight over any little thing. Élyse figured if I got rid of the slice via arm wrestling it could possibly save Christmas or something. Yadda yadda. Apparently no one seems to enjoy the Christmases when Samuel breaks down in angry tears and yells for an hour – not sure why when I find that sooooooo entertaining.”

“God I wish I was there for that… seeing Samuel’s face as if he was punched when he tries to cry elegantly is so therapeutic…” Edward murmured, “I feel like my Christmas was just me being the crying one.”

“Crying? What happened, Édouard?”

Squiggling in his seat, Edward wondered how much he should tell. A part of him wanted to spill it all, but another part wondered if that would be too much of an inconvenience. How much of his stupid worries did Étienne really want? Closing his eyes, Edward pretended they were in the same room together, maybe even touching, head on Étienne’s shoulder, not necessarily looking at the man, but bodies snuggled up, his hair getting played with. Those small stolen moments of bliss, where the worries got spilled, and he didn’t worry about the consequences.

“Christmas was so awkward; I don’t even know where to begin. The entire time I desperately wished I had gone to yours… it felt like the last time I try to be a functional person among them… hell, I only went because I thought maybe I could improve relations with people… start the new millennium off with some hope about the future.”

It really had been terrible. They had held it at the ranch – Bert’s ranch. Why the hell did he think hanging out with people at the ranch would be a good idea? Surrounded by people you probably should know better, but in reality only held passing pleasantries with. The one bright spot had been Calvin. Calvin who seemed to be best buddies with everyone who arrived, Calvin who smiled brightly at him and argued with him, distracting him from the knot of anxiety he was harbouring over whether he should come out during Christmas or hold off until New Years?

He was attempting small talk with Jo, who was talking at him about how they should go shopping together (did she not do other stuff?), when he overheard Bert loudly say “I personally don’t think those fags should be given the deal.”

It felt like time had slowed down for Edward. No one seemed to pause or care. Orson in fact nodded along with Bert’s rant, sipping his Sprite. Jo continued on with her plans for her next visit, and somewhere nearby Red laughed at a joke Madeline made. As he observed the room to see if there was any reaction to Bert’s loud rant, everyone was involved in their own conversations. Calvin was in the distance deep in conversation with someone he could not quite make out. 

Right, this was not the place. He still wanted turkey dinner, and as he dimly nodded along to Jo, Edward felt small. He had no allies here. Well, that wasn’t true. He was sure Edith supported him, but one in how many? Edward didn’t want to ‘ruin Christmas’.

“And you know how I’ve been thinking about coming out and stuff, but uh, can I just say no? If you were in the room you would understand – seriously Étienne, these people who claim to be my so called family would just as well lynch me as their Christmas bonfire – I dunno they could just douse me in bitumen and light me up human torch Christian martyr style for bringing the faggotry home for Christmas… Soooo I didn’t want to ruin Christmas and make the event awkward for everyone,” Edward related over the phone.

“And then horror of horrors, Orson managed to corner me in what he thinks is jovial conversation. It felt like everything he had to say to me was condescension masked in care and concern – honestly I am not sure how he even manages that. I think he felt like it was his civic duty to carry on a conversation with me. He even reminisced about the temple open house he dragged me to. Ok honestly I went to the open house out of curiosity, to see what sort of cult he’s in, but I didn’t think he would already be reminiscing about something that had literally JUST happened. Temple? Yeah, a Mormon temple just opened up in my city… so it meant I had the pleassssuuure of Orson coming up for the Open House and dragging me along. Stay with me? God no, please ‘Tienne I’m not that insane, what would I do if he snooped and found my big old dildo? Yeah he was staying with some church people since he was volunteering and such.”

“I think I wanted to die when he sat down at the piano – yeah, I didn’t even think Bert ever tuned that thing, but knowing Orson maybe he came extra early to tune it, and began banging out the Christmas carols. Like he’s talented and all, and I don’t mind a round of Jingle Bells, but he really has this creepy 1950s vibe and I wanted to roll my eyes when his eyes started to shine with unshed tears at Away in a Manger and O Holy Night.” Edward twisted the cord around his finger, as he listened to Étienne chuckle. Apparently the tactic was avoid talking about himself and instead rant about goody-two-shoes Orson? “You should count yourself lucky you don’t have to deal with him on a regular basis… mmm? Yeah he is kind, considerate and is literally the guy to volunteer for the worst tasks but there is something about him where he is a little too perfect? Like somehow can’t let my hair down around him type of deal. Which makes him perfect for Lilith – as she always has her hair up, haha.”

Edward had relaxed into his seat, somehow feeling lighter, as the words slipped out, “And then New Years was somehow worse… no I wasn’t at the ranch. I probably should have taken you up on your fireworks show, because the one here is uh Edmonton grade. You know – trying real hard but still somehow failing to miss the mark,” he chuckled at his own joke, not picking up on the strained tension from Étienne over the phone. “Calvin came up, which surprised me since I assumed he would want to be gallivanting about in Calgary, but apparently he wanted to spend it with his best buddy which is me? Somehow? Don’t worry Teddy, you’re still my best friend…” Edwards voice lowered, as he realized what he was about to say, admit. Pause. “So how was your New Years? Aahh why are you yelling – oh you’re saying I didn’t mention why New Years sucked? It’s because it wasn’t with you, darlin’.”

Somehow Edward couldn’t do it. Couldn’t quite bring himself around to admitting he had come out to Calvin. How he had fallen into a depression when he got outright rejected. “Hmm? Well, how else can I put it… while I could have been kissing you and sucking your cock, I instead got to hold Calvin’s hair back as he literally puked in my poinsettias… yes… mmhmm. The poor plant didn’t make it.”

Tangling his finger in the phone cord, Edward found himself relaxing as Étienne told him about his New Years event, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. The other man’s voice soothing him. Trying to be home for Christmas and the New Years - attempt to enter the new millennium as a man of his own place, had been a major mistake.

He should have kept to his original plans of escaping to Montreal, escaping his own clay dirt to mold himself into his own dream man.Sometimes he wondered if he loved Étienne or simply wanted to be Étienne. A complicated mixture of feelings confusing him ever more when it came to that man.

“Visit? I would love to visit… oh wait, you want to come visit me? When? Hmm let me… check my calendar.” Edward sat up, looking around, and then picked up the phone, carefully picking his way into the kitchen, so he could squint at the calendar. His telephone cord ran out though, so he had to do an awkward strain, trying not to unplug the phone, while seeing his own scribbled-in life.

Well… the only thing really was his work shifts. Everything else a blank. “How does this time work? You’re booked up. Alright…” Edward and Étienne haggled over dates, until somehow, it lined up that Edward was going to Montreal. A subtle shift, but as Edward said with some practicality – that’s just how it lined up. As he hung up the phone, he wrote down the date of his trip, feeling better. Now in between work was a small bright spot, one small thing to look forward to.He was not as friendless as he thought, and, perhaps with enough courage, he could finish his New Years story.        

[thepetulantpen]

Fairytale/Emotional Support

(Here’s another late contribution for @beaujester-week , a Robin Hood AU for day 5!)

Beau crouches beside a tree and tries to ignore Jester’s giggles behind her, hoping they’re out of earshot of the guards.

“Beau,” Jester whispers as best she can but in the dead silence of the forest, it may as well be a gunshot, “which-“

A twig snaps and Beau’s ears pick up the soft sounds of footsteps on the dirt path that winds through the forest, just a few feet in front of their tree. Reflexes kicking in, Beau pulls both herself and Jester closer to the tree, making sure its silhouette obscures their forms. In the same fluid motion, she covers Jester’s mouth to cut her question short. Jester pouts beneath her hand but begrudgingly accepts the necessity of silence in a run from the sheriff and snuggles closer to Beau.

The guards on the path look irritated and confused, no doubt lost in the twists and turns Beau took through the forest. They’re all sighing with exertion and annoyance, not paid to hike through the woods all day, hunting down an elusive thief for the sake of their delusional sheriff.

“I think she took the other path. Let’s join up with our forces in the east.”

Beau exhales silently, thanking every god she knows and barely believes in. She waits until the last spot of sunlight reflecting off their stupid helmets disappears on the horizon and then moves swiftly from their hiding spot, tugging Jester along.

Her feet have memorized this forest floor, dexterously leading her around roots and rocks, choosing the path of least resistance for Jester’s sake. Jester keeps a running commentary through their walk and Beau lets her, knowing the threat has passed.

Besides, she always loves to hear Jester speak about these things, the pride and excitement in her voice is enough reward for all the trouble they’ve had.

“-then I had my doubles do a little jig to distract them and you stunned the guard like bam! Oh, Beau, it was so fun- we should do this more often!”

“Feel a little bad for getting you involved in a life of crime.” Beau glances up from ground briefly to look at Jester’s face, tone only half joking.

“Pssh, I was kicked out of the last town, remember? I’m hardly as innocent as my pretty face looks!” Jester frames her face with her hands, looking angelic one second, then grinning like a devil the next.

Beau’s heard this story before and she’s only half sure she believes it. Anybody would deny it upon first meeting Jester, a cheerful little tiefling girl clearly incapable of humiliating a politician, committing minor theft and causing mayhem in the streets to mask her flee from the city. But Beau knows her a little better than most, has seen that deeply chaotic and mischievous energy of hers in action. This is, after all, the girl who agreed, without hesitation, to join her quest to pull off one of the most high scale robberies Nottingham has ever seen.

This last job was their biggest yet- and their most personal. Lionett family wineries may not feel the loss of revenue for long, but the poor of Nottingham could certainly be sustained by their stolen money for many months to come.

Beau just wishes she could’ve seen her father’s face when he realized just how much she was able to get away with.

“Beau, are you alright?”

“Hm?” Beau blinks away bad memories and vengeful fantasies to look at Jester, frowning in concern, “Of course. Why? Do I, like, look grumpy?”

“No, it’s just that you’ve got that look on your face like you’re thinking too hard about something dumb.”

Beau laughs and opens her mouth to respond with a joke, a transition to an easier topic, but Jester interrupts, expression earnest and serious.

“Is it about your dad?”

The forest floor is a fascinating thing, textured with unexpected holes and littered with odd plant life, giving Beau something to study while she stalls for time.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Beau looks up from the roots to meet Jester’s eyes, filled with kindness that has become Beau’s lifeline the last few weeks. Those eyes have carried her through heartbreak and abuse, made her feel valuable when Nottingham treated her like a stain on society. She knows she can answer honestly, without judgement or disappointment from Jester.

“Not really.”

Jester hums, studying Beau’s face to detect a lie. When she doesn’t find one, she smiles, a little relieved.

“Well, there’s not much to say anyway- he’s just a stupid, greedy man.”

The words are flippant, easy, but the way Jester squeezes Beau’s hand is not. Her grip is strong, an unforgettable reminder that Jester is there, should Beau change her mind.

Beau would’ve said thanks, or something equally unnecessary, but she catches sight of smoke and the first patches of straw roofs. They’ve arrived.

Jester pushes ahead, switching positions with Beau to pull her ahead, knowing the way from here.

Arriving at the tiny village on the outskirts of town, where much of the poor of Nottingham find themselves, is always an event. It’s a rush of activity and sound, a rush that Jester meets with matching energy, one girl against a village. Beau just hands over the bag of gold, less good at interacting with the kids and the thankful people here. They’re hailed with aliases whispered across the country, legends of heroes who take from the wealthy and give to those less fortunate.

Beau doesn’t know how she got stuck with Robin Hood, but it’s a little late to complain about it. Jester has it easier, having chosen her own name: Maid Marion, so she can take a bit of her mother with her on her adventures.

It’s cute, though not nearly as cute as Jester and Kiri.

“Oh, you’ll finally be able to buy a new cloak and some new toys, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Wonderful!”

Their smiles- Jester’s, Kiri’s, and the rest of the settlement’s- wipe the image of her father’s snarl.

This is the best part of her job.

...

Between jobs, Beau enjoys quiet moments in their borrowed cottage, barely managing to make her own tea and not ruin it. It’s nice out here, just her and Jester enjoying this place before they move onto the next town, the next community in need.

The peace and coziness is nice, of course, but she wouldn’t give up the thrill and the pride of their mission for it. She knows she could never commit to a life of sitting idly after she’s gotten a taste of adventure, of traveling the world in a whirlwind with Jester.

Jester couldn’t either, can’t even finish a quiet afternoon like Beau before she bursts through the door.

“Look at this! Isn’t it terrible?”

Jester shoves two pieces of paper in Beau’s face, too close for her eyes to focus on. She takes them from her and finds herself looking at two extremely shitty illustrations of her and Jester. They are truly comical, with wildly incorrect noses and stringy hair, and they’re supposed to be official Wanted posters, identifying them to the Empire. It’s laughable, and it’s exactly what she’d expect from Nottingham.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re leaving town. Don’t think I could live with people thinking I look like that.”

Jester sits down at the table with Beau, taking her own teacup and pouring it somewhat angrily. Her indignation is frankly adorable, just another faucet of her passion. She feels everything so deeply, and acts on it accordingly.

“I’m making our own Wanted posters for the next town. I mean, this is ridiculous.”

Beau takes a drink and smiles at Jester, soft and relaxed on their day off.

“You could paint pictures of totally different people just to confuse everyone.”

Jester’s entire face lights up at the idea, the inspiration sparking nearly tangible mischievous energy. When Jester has found an idea she likes, she can talk about it for hours, her voice like music in a lilting tune that keeps Beau invested in what she has to say.

It doesn’t require much to keep Jester going once she’s gotten fixated on something, but Beau interjects with her criminal expertise when needed, adding fuel to the fire. They’re a perfect duo in that way, unconditionally supportive, regardless of the quality of their ideas or rationality of their worries.

Scheming is their kind of downtime, staying outside and talking about nothing and everything until the tea is gross, fireflies are swarming, and the stars twinkle above them.

Beau calls it a night when Jester starts yawning, following her back inside the cottage with just one last glance at the night sky.

She doesn’t recognize any of the constellations, but she swears the stars are scattered in the exact same pattern as the freckles decorating Jester’s face.

For a moment, the sky seems to smile at Beau and she smiles back. She must be more tired than she thought.

She goes inside, to sleep beside her lover, partner in crime, and roommate. There’s work to be done tomorrow, they’ll need their rest.

[jamlally]

Movie Madness

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by  @panicfob .  The Day 21 Challenge prompt was Favorite Christmas Movie

Warnings: Stupidity and Fluff

Pairing: None  - it’s just some silliness with some of the Avengers team.

Summary: Is there anything more contentious that what to watch on TV?

Filled to the brim with the wonderful dinner, and tidy up as complete as it could be, everyone moved over to the sofas bartering over what they would do next.  It was a close run argument between board games and TV, but full stomachs lead to sleepiness which in turn lead to movies being picked

Ten minutes into a debate about what movie they would watch Belle had the start of a headache and they were currently in a stalemate. 

“Ok enough, lets do this the scientific way, everyone write their favorite Christmas movie on a slip of paper, we will put them in a bowl and draw out a winner” Bruce suggested 

“That’s not democratic decision, what if more than one of us pick the same thing” Steve argued

“Well then you have a statistically better chance of getting your movie picked don’t you” Bruce rolled his eyes in annoyance

“Ok so how about we do what Bruce suggested and then we count up the votes and if there is a clear winner then we go with that and if not we fold them up and do a draw” Wanda suggested

Everyone agreed and paper and pens were handed out and selections were added to the bowl.

Belle was picked as a relatively neutral party to count up the results and Tony was confined to the other side of the room

“OK so we have 1 vote for Elf, 2 for it’s a wonderful life  , 1 for Holiday Inn, 3 for die hard, 1 for Miracle on 34th Street, 1 for Christmas carol and 1 for How the grinch stole Christmas.  So that means it’s Die Hard”

Sam, Natasha and Clint let out a whoop while there was grumbling from a lot of the others

“What’s  Die Hard?” 

“You’ll love it Buck it’s about a guy who manages to save his ex wife and work colleagues from an office when they’re held hostage by kidnappers” Natasha filled him in excitedly

“It sounds fun, but it’s doesn’t sound like a Christmas movie to me”

“Ha see that’s my point” Tony cut in “I mean if you’re gonna class that as a Christmas movie then add in Gremlins as well - I mean it happens at Christmas”

“I don’t know what that is “ Steve cut in 

“It doesn’t matter what that is Cap” Clint called out “What matters is Die Hard won and it’s a Christmas movie and it’s wha we are watching”

“But what is a gremlin?” Steve asked looking confused.  Natasha picked up her phone keyed something in and handed it to Steve

“Good God I don’t even now what that is, but what ever it is it is not Christmas!”

“Well it doesn’t much matter does it - we aren’t watching that one” Natasha took her phone back 

Belle leaned over to Steve laying a comforting hand on his arm “It’s actually a fun film. I’ll put it on some time that there isn’t so much, excitement, about what we will watch” Steve gave her a grateful smile.

“OK so hang on” Sam stood in the middle of the room “ Why don’t you all describe what makes a Christmas Movie and we will see whether Die Hard matches up Ok.  FRIDAY put these items on the holo screen”

“It’s Christmas time”

“There is a problem that has to be sorted so someone can appreciate Christmas”

“People being with loves ones”

“Friendship”

“Loneliness  then being lonely”

“Christmas is the reason for change”

“Hope”

“A Happy Ending”

“Redemption”

Belle watched amused as the items were listed on a holo screen.  She didn’t mind that her favorite hadn’t been picked, she had old fashioned tastes in these things, but this entire debate was far too funny to miss out on.  At the rate things were going no one would watch anything because they would still be talking about it

“Ok those are all good things - I mean I don’t think they all need to be there to make a Christmas Movie but they’re good items,  Here’s the thing though,  I can check them all off against Die Hard.  Every, Single. One,”  As some of the others objected quite loudly Sam held up his hand “Aaaand it’s a damn sight cheerier than It’s a wonderful life too. I mean have you fools actually watched that movie? You can’t sit there and tell me that the middle of that movie isn’t just misery.  Be a good man or doom doom!  I mean come on”

Belle watched as there were a few nodding heads, Sam wasn’t wrong it wasn’t the most uplifting of movies for the majority of the run time.

“You know we still have quite a few days until Christmas, there isn’t any reason that we couldn’t work through the movies every other night so everyone gets to watch what they like the most.  Maybe people could share why they picked the movie, then we could all learn a bit about why people picked what they did.  You know see things in a new light” Wanda spoke up trying to diffuse what could become a heated discussion if left to go on for too much longer 

“Well now that’s a very sensible and boring way to put an end to the discussion just as it was about to get interesting” Tony gave a mock smile in Wanda’s direction  causing Wanda to blush and look down

Belle rolled her eyes, and jabbed Tony in the ribs with her elbow “Well I think Wanda’s idea is excellent and I second it.  This way we get to watch a movie rather than discuss a movie and maybe we get a bit more appreciation for some of the ones we don’t much like by understanding why others do”

“Well who am I to argue with you dear” Tony flopped back into the couch “And really Wanda, it’s a pretty smart plan.  OK bird boy sit your ass down and we will watch your selection” 

“Wait we need to know why they picked it” Bucky leant forward looking at Clint, Sam and Nat with a raised eyebrow.

The three huddled together for a moment debating before moving back to their seats, Natasha sitting forward to explain

“Well there are a whole heap of reasons, but the main ones are it’s fun, there is plenty of action and drama with the while Christmas backdrop, but it’s not schmaltzy.  A lot of Christmas movies are just so scaring and sweet and everything gets tied up neatly in a festive bow, but in Die Hard it isn’t.  Sure there is doing things for love and building new friendships, but there is also action, explosions and a great bad guy.  The thing is, when you do the things we do, the soft and fluffy movies, well sometimes they just make you feel worse about life. This one doesn’t”

As the movie started Belle found herself distracted as she thought about what Natasha had said,  She had always assumed that because these guys spent their lives dealing with some of the worst things in the world, they would want something lighter and dare she say jolly.  She had never thought how being faced with that would could make these guys feel worse about what they did.  She half paid attention and half wondered about what the others would say about their choices when they came up.

A few nights later it was movie night again and the second choice movie was up.  It’s a wonderful life was considered a Christmas Classic so she wasn’t all that surprised that it came up on the list.  Belle had guess that at least one of the Super Soldiers would have picked this movie but she hadn’t counted on Bruce being in that group.

“For me it’s about memories and sitting in a chair with why grandfather watching the movie and drinking cocoa.  It’s just a classic Christmas Movie.  Yeah bits of it are sad but the sense of joy at the end is incomparable” He had explained

“It’s memories for me too - old and new” Bucky had smiled at Steve and Belle then “It’s not ll perfect, even at the end, but people grew and changed”

When it came to the remaining movies it was a tie so one afternoon it was agreed that they would  have a movie marathon.  Wanda had explained the Elf reminded her of early Christmases with Pietro and she loved the fact that it made her laugh.  Tony had explained that A Christmas Carol was one of the few movies he remembered watching with his mother, and she would also read the story to him every Christmas.  Belle had snuggled into him when his choice came on, feeling that he would perhaps need some closeness. 

For Steve Miracle of 34th Street was one he had picked out because it had been his favorite when he had gone on a movie binge one evening.  He liked the jolly father Christmas and the child and the fact it was black and white, and it didn’t make him feel out of place like newer movies did at times.

Belle had felt uncomfortable when it had been her turn to explain. Holiday In had always been her favorite but probably not for a reason that anyone would understand.  She had thought about lying but the others had all explained their thoughts honestly so she took a deep breath and told the truth 

“Christmas wasn’t big in our house.  After dad was gone it didn’t get any better,  Mostly my mum would do what she wanted, and I would hang out at school or home, but usually on Christmas Eve she would make cocoa and we would sit in the living room and watch Holiday Inn. She would usually end up leaving before the movie was done, but for a little while we would be like a regular family.  It didn’t hurt that Bing Crosby had the best  voice  and Fred Astaire danced beautifully. Tony had hugged her close and for the first time she got to have good memories to go with the movie from start to end.

Later that night in the apartment Tony had put on White Christmas and taken Belle in his arms and danced her slowly around humming the tune as they moved. 

That had just left How the Grinch Stole Christmas, which no one would admit to adding into the mix.  Never the less they had all settled in to watch it, laughing at the frolics on screen and throwing popcorn at each other.

As the closing credits rolled Sam stood clapping his hands together “You know I really liked watching everyones choices, but I’ve to to say Die Hard is still the best Christmas Movie”

[sauntered-vaguely-downward]

Irrational Fears. Sam Winchester x Reader

There was a reason the Winchesters kept you around. You were badass, trustworthy, intelligent beyond belief and fearless… well, they thought you were fearless but you knew otherwise.

You rounded the corner of the library, heaving the noise of the small telly. Dean was watching one of the old westerns he loved, but by the time you took a seat in between the boys, the film was drawing to a close.

“My turn to pick the next film,” Sam smiled, moving from the sofa to choose one of the videotapes in front of him. It has been a long time since you’d had a movie days with the boys so were more than happy to watch the action-filled films they were likely to pick. Sam, as usual, was taking forever to pick a film so you decided to go and get snacks from the kitchen.

When you came back Sam was placing the video in the VHS player. You settled back down in your space between the boys, snacks in your lap. Dean instantly grabbed for the bag of chips, making you chuckle. As Sam sat back down beside you, opening his arms out so you could do your usual of snuggling close to him, the film began to play. The familiar opening tune made you sit upright, a slight shudder running through you.

Now much like your boyfriend and his brother, you were a hunter. There was a reason the boys kept you around and it wasn’t just because you were a pretty face. You were fierce, smart, and hella badass. You’d gone face to face with most monsters people thought only came from their nightmares. Demons, werewolves, vampires, and even the Devil himself, just a handful of the dangerous beings you had gone face to face with and yet as the owl swooped across the screen, you couldn’t help the slight irrational fear that coursed through you.

You knew it was silly, this was technically a children's film, but you decided that your best bet was to simply snuggle into Sam, close your eyes and just listen to the film when it got to the bit you dreaded the most.

Sam felt the way you tensed as the film started. While usually yes you would snuggle close to him when you watched films, today you seemed to get considerably closer than usual, hiding your face in his chest as though you were hiding.

“I haven’t seen this film in ages,” Dean smiled. “It's such a good film. The Labyrinth is a classic.” You would disagree, mostly because this film was filled with the one thing you hated. Puppets. You hated them, everything about them freaked you out. The fake voices, the way they looked lifelike yet lacked the ability to express more than one facial expression, their beady little eyes. Puppets freaked you out since you were a child so this film was essentially a nightmare for you. However, even if the little soulless demons scared you more than they should have, you couldn’t tell Sam.

Since you had gotten together around six months ago, Sam hadn’t really seen you express any vulnerabilities. You were a badass hunter in his eyes. Sure, behind closed doors you were sweet and caring but he hadn’t ever seen you be vulnerable before. Plus, if you told Sam to turn off the film now, you wouldn’t just be telling him about your irrational fear, but also Dean, who would never let you hear the end of it, just like he did with Sams fear of clowns. So rather than bring it up you decided to just suck it up and shut your eyes for the majority of the film, starting when the creepy little goblin fucks came on to the screen.

The film played on, you enjoyed just listening but any time you opened your eyes you were met with the face of a puppet, causing you to flinch and shut your eyes again, cuddling more into Sams side. Sam, of course, noticed, Dean would have noticed too had he not fallen asleep. Sam couldn’t help but worry a little bit but when he asked if you were okay you just nodded, keeping your eyes closed.

When the film had finished you were relieved. Looking at the clock you saw it was late, so you and Sam decided to go to bed, leaving Dean snoozing softly on the sofa.

You’d put the film behind you, grateful you could just close your eyes and pretend there weren’t puppets on the screen.

Sam could still sense the slight tension as you slipped into the bed beside him, cuddling into him again. He knew you well enough to know something was wrong.

“Y/N, babe,” he sat up, pulling you with him so he could look at your face. “Why did you have your eyes shut during the film? Did you not enjoy it?”

“Oh no, it's not that,” you mumbled. Clearly, you hadn’t been as discreet about blocking out the film as you thought.

“Was it David Bowie’s bulge? I can understand why you wouldn’t wanna look at that,” he chuckled a deep chesty chuckle. You couldn’t help but giggle. Sam had a way of making you smile even when you didn’t want too. You sighed, taking a deep breath before muttering out,

“Ihaveafearofpuppets.” You said it so quickly Sam didn’t quite catch it.

“What did you say, babe?”

“I have a fear of puppets,” you mumbled again, just a little louder this time so he could hear it. Sam was honestly a little stunned by this. Sam hadn’t ever seen you show fear, not even the toughest cases you worked, so for you to tell him you had a fear of something like this was very surprising to hear.

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit embarrassed by this, especially seeing the look of shock on his face.

“Why didn’t you say, baby?” Sam could see the embarrassment along your cheeks so pulled you in for a hug. “We could have picked something else.” “Dean was there, and come on, he's a bit of a dick when it comes to other peoples weaknesses,” Sam laughed, his chest jumping making your head bounce.

“That’s true. Why didn’t you tell me this before babe, had I known I would have never put the film on.”

“Because I’m a hunter. We’re not meant to have silly little fears like that.”

“I’m scared of clowns.” “Yeah, but a clown could actually kill you.”

“Thanks babe, lovely reminder of why I fear them,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you giggled back, “but you know what I mean. Clowns are alive, all things alive have the potential to be dangerous. Puppets on the other hand, well they can’t do anything to me so it’s kind of stupid to fear them.” Sam placed a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling you closer.

“Babe, sometimes fears aren’t rational, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fear them,” he smiled, pulling back and taking your cheeks in his hands. “Thank you for telling me this, because now I can protect you from the puppets.”

“And I'll protect you from the clowns,” you pulled him back in for a kiss, gently tugging him down to lay with you in the bed. Even if at that moment when you told him you had felt more vulnerable than ever, you had to admit it was nice opening up to him, especially knowing that he would protect you if you ever did come head to head with one of the fuzzy bastards.

So this fic is one that I thought of not long ago. 

I have a fear of puppets so I thought I’d make a fluffy fic about it. (Please don’t judge me, also the muppets and sesame street are fine its just every other puppet that freaks me out, in particular, Bagpuss). I have plenty of irrational fears (this being the worst one) but here are a couple other silly fears I have alongside the puppets. 

Rats/Mice in any form of animation (the mice in Coraline or the rat king in Hilda are perfect examples of this irrational fear of mine. THE WORST ARE THE SINGING MICE IN BAGPUSS BECAUSE THEY FREAKY FUCKS AND PUPPETS)

Stop motion animation films, particularly if they involve clay (I can't watch Coraline or nightmare before Christmas because they literally fill me with so much dread I feel like I need to die) 

Last weird one I will share with you is my fear of windows at night... this came from a scary story I read online one where someone said they saw a face behind them in the window... now I'm scared of dark windows. Also mirrors at night. 

ANYWAY BACK TO BEING A NORMAL PERSON I HOPE YOU LIKED MY FIC AND WON’T JUDGE ME TO HARD FOR BEING SCARED OF SO MANY THINGS!!!!

[bie-lovers]

Rosé

Title: Rosé

Relationship: Dan/Phil

Rating: T

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Some nights they will pull out a bottle of wine and load up a game on the TV.

a/n: did i write a drunk dnp fic a couple of weeks ago? yes. did i just write another one. yes. does this say something about me? probably. 

so. dan’s bday happened and phil tweeted his fave pictures of dan from his camera roll, including one of a rather obviously tipsy dan and a nice almost empty bottle of rosé in the background. well, clearly this is what happened. hope you enjoy!

Excerpt: “You’re the worst person in the world,” Phil whinges, and Dan hears the unmistakable sound of Phil driving off the race track on the screen. He grins and lightly bites down on Phil’s shoulder. 

“I am,” he says. Phil exits the game and connects the second controller. They sit up and Phil hands it to him but he won’t let go, so Dan looks at him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Do your worst, Howell,” Phil says and turns his attention back on the telly.

“Game on, Lester.”

[Read on AO3] 

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God!” Phil’s shriek is high pitched and probably way too loud considering the time. Dan doesn’t really care because he’s ten seconds away from actually losing to Phil, and to be fair, he’s probably screaming even louder.

Phil drives over the finish line then, and Dan briefly considers if they should send an apology gift basket to their neighbours tomorrow, but then Phil’s suddenly lunging at him. He ends up on his back on the sofa with Phil on top of him, knees on either side of Dan’s hips and fingers playing with the zip on his grey hoodie.

“I won!” Phil whoops. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Barely. Also, I’m handicapped, it doesn’t count.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. Having half a bottle of rosé in my blood is a handicap in Mario. Read the rules.”

“You know, I do believe drunk driving is illegal,” Phil says and a grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he boops Dan’s nose with his pinky. “And I’m pretty sure the other half of that wine is in my system, mister. So we’re even, and I won. Fair and square, can’t beat the master.” And then Phil leans down and touches his lips to Dan’s, featherlight.

Dan grips Phil’s face as he tries to sit up again.

“No. Stay,” he mumbles against his lips, and he can feel Phil smile and give in, opening his mouth.

He tastes like the rosé they have been drinking; alcohol and a hint of red berries, and Dan wonders absentmindedly if he could get drunk just like this, just on Phil. Phil, who moves from Dan’s mouth to his jaw and then his neck, and Dan concludes with a small whimper that yes, he definitely can.

Phil sighs and slides his hand through Dan’s curls, getting a loose grip and pulling just slightly. His breath is hot and wet and his lips tickle over Dan’s ear as he whispers, “What’s my prize?”

“Prize?” He can’t really focus, not when Phil is this close, this intoxicating.

“I won,” Phil breathes, “Don’t I get a prize for my efforts?” He kisses Dan’s jaw and finally returns home to his lips. If Dan could, he would push pause on the universe so he could live this moment out forever. He wants to stretch it out and slow it down, this inconsequential moment of slow, slightly clumsy touching, drunken flirting, and lazy, sloppy kisses just because they can, because they have each other and they know it.

“What do you want?” he whispers, voice hoarse. He takes Phil’s face in his hands again, looks at him. His hair is a mess, strands sticking up in all directions, and Dan cards a hand through it without really thinking. A red flush is covering his pale skin, his lips are wet and pink. Dan lets his thumb touch gently.

“Hmm.” Phil’s eyes slowly travel down to Dan’s lips, where they stay as he says, “You,” his voice low and deep and setting fire to Dan’s heart. He resists the impulse to say you have me and settles for pulling Phil back down to convey his thoughts through his kisses. They’re too complex for words, anyway.

***

“I want revenge.”

They’re lying on the sofa, and Phil is playing against some people online, back pressed close to Dan’s chest, their legs tangled together like their hearts are.

Phil snorts. “Forget it, Howell. I won.”

Dan lets his hand slide slowly down Phil’s chest, sneaking it up under his shirt.

“Not gonna work,” Phil says. Dan places an open mouthed kiss on his neck and lets his thumb brush over a nipple. He can feel a shiver run through Phil’s body and he can’t help pressing closer as he deliberately plays with the hardening nubs under his fingertips. He’s leaving a trail of wet kisses on Phil’s neck and then he whispers, “All or nothing.”

“You’re the worst person in the world,” Phil whinges, and Dan hears the unmistakable sound of Phil driving off the race track on the screen. He grins and lightly bites down on Phil’s shoulder.

“I am,” he says. Phil exits the game and connects the second controller. They sit up and Phil hands it to him but he won’t let go, so Dan looks at him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Do your worst, Howell,” Phil says and turns his attention back on the telly.

“Game on, Lester.”

***

Phil wins. Again.

“Pretty sure I’ve earned my prize now.”

“Fine, whatever. I give up.” Dan waves his hands around, almost hitting Phil in the face. At some point during the game, they ended up standing right in front of the TV, and Dan blames it on the blurry edges to his vision.

“What, did I hear that correctly? You’re giving up?” Phil’s glee is almost palpable, snuggling around Dan, tugging on him. Dan smiles and thinks that letting Phil win was definitely worth it.

“What do you want, you barbarian?” He asks. And if he’s learned anything from being around Phil for almost ten years it’s that when he cracks out this smirk, Dan is for it.

“I want a dance.”

A laugh sputters out of Dan.

“What?”

Phil’s eyes are shining and slightly red and Dan’s pretty sure his own are, too. He’s standing in front of Dan with a hand reached out towards him, palm open.

“Can I have this dance with you, Mr. Howell?”

Dan could cry. Because this man standing before him is so imperfectly perfect and he’s his and Dan is drunk, they both are, it’s the middle of the night and he’s asking Dan to dance with him to the tune of the Mario Kart title menu still glowing on the TV.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, and he hears the affection he has for Phil nestle in his tone. He grabs Phil’s hand and Phil pulls him close.

It’s bizarre, honestly. They keep falling into bouts of uncontrollable laughter, Phil steps on Dan’s toes and Dan almost knocks them over once. The music is not made for slow dancing, it’s too upbeat and zany, and they’re not made for slow dancing either, they’re too awkward and clumsy, but they make do, because it’s not about how it looks. Dan couldn’t care less of what this would look like to an outsider. He can feel Phil’s hands resting on his hips and Phil’s breath land on his mouth and, sometimes, when they step on each other’s toes, their noses bump together and they laugh again.

Phil’s looking at him like Dan’s the answer to the mystery of the universe, like he holds every secret and Phil’s dying to learn.

He moves his hands up to cup Phil’s face and he bumps their noses together gently.

Phil says, “I love you,” and Dan kisses him.

He can feel Phil’s lips curl into a smirk under his, and he pulls back just far enough to be able to see his face.

“And I won,” Phil whispers, and Dan smacks his shoulder and says, “I hate you.”

Phil just grins and kisses Dan again. “No, you don’t.”

It takes an embarrassing amount of willpower for Dan to pull back so they can breathe.

“I do actually. I want a divorce,” he says.

Phil raises an eyebrow. “We’re not married.”

“Technicalities.” Dan lets his chin rest on Phil’s shoulder and tightens his grip around his waist. The world is asleep around them, the music is still filling the air with the kooky melody, and there’s a pleasant buzz humming under Dan’s skin. “At least pour me another glass of wine.”

“Ask nicely. I did not raise you to be rude,” Phil says, mock offended.

Dan lets go of Phil and gives him a pointed look. “Please, Philip Lester, love of my sad life, will you pour me another glass of this sweet rosé?”

A small smile is playing in the corners of Phil’s mouth, and Dan wants to kiss it, taste it, to see if it’s as sweet as it looks. So he does.

“Actually, on second thought, I think you’ve had enough,” Phil says against Dan’s lips, and Dan pulls back just slightly.

“Don’t you love me?”

“No. Did I say that to you? I’m sorry.”

“Rude. I take back everything.” Dan pokes Phil’s arm. “Pass me the bottle then, old man.”

Phil lifts an eyebrow.

“Ugh. Please.”

[thepilotanon]

springbeauty ix

{masterlist}

I’m only realizing now that we have only five chapters left before this little series is over! Wow, I honestly can not believe how much people are actually liking this, and you all have been so sweet and supportive. I can’t thank you all enough for being so kind and patient with me, and I hope to keep hearing from you all! Please enjoy.

warning: none.

“You can’t be givin’ up on our cauliflower yet! There’s still time to find a good spot - why not here?”

Clyde stared at his older brother with distaste, finishing the Shirley Temple for his little niece propped on the barstool beside her father. Getting her a red straw and dropping the candy cherry into the drink, the youngest Logan brother pushed the tall glass to Sadie. The little girl grinned brightly and reached to take over, looking to her uncle with the happiest look on her face and thanked him kindly, making him nod with a small smile in return before looking back to give his brother a thought or two.

“Pulling the cauliflower in the bar where I first saw her ain’t good enough. Much as I love my bar, it ain’t nowhere near the level of memorable moments,” Clyde told Jimmy all grouchy. Two weeks has passed since the short-lived camping trip and failed proposal attempt, and all Clyde wanted to do was call it quits while he still can. It wasn’t that he was pulling out of wanting to propose to Belle and marry her, but he didn’t have any better ideas to make sure everything was perfect and deserving to her.

But Jimmy wasn’t having any of it.

“Look, we’re in this together like the last time and all before that,” Jimmy started and Clyde rolled his eyes.

“Besides the time I spent six months?”

“Juvie, Clyde. It was just juvie,” he stressed. Stretching back on the barstool, the older brother sighed and ruffled his daughter’s hair. Sadie hummed as she continued to sip her drink joyfully in the rather empty bar. It was just the three, the busboy in the back and an afternoon drunk napping in the corner booth. “There’s still time, alright? Cauliflower ain’t over yet, and I ain’t gonna let you drop out of this one. It’s too important.”

Shaking his head, Clyde turned to dry off the cleaned glasses with the towel, using his mechanical hand to grip the glass properly and being able to reach the insides, he ignored Jimmy trying to come up with a list of different locations around Boone County to him, tuning him out with his task. With today’s plan of managing the bar until closing, Sadie was to spend the day with Belle as a sort of girls day; the oldest Logan sibling planned on using it to converse and plan with Clyde to find a better outlook for their cauliflower plan, but Clyde wanted to shut out about it.

All while he goes home to find Belle waiting for him in their routine, he was willing to admit in his head that he did enjoy the extra “attention” Belle offers to him when he is stressed. Seeing how he has his pout a bit more expressive and eyes tired yet alert, his lovely woman is quick to tug him to their bedroom and pamper him with gentle kisses and, occasionally, to opening his dresser drawer to find his box. A part of Clyde really loved how Belle didn’t pressure him to tell why he has been so stressed lately, instead wanting to make him feel better. Clyde eventually falls asleep in peace, holding on to Belle and just snuggling her lovingly and doesn’t think about his brother’s ideas...He wasn’t going to tell Jimmy that.

“Look, how about this,” Jimmy offered up, “I’ll go scout out some places and write ‘em down for you. When you get off, you can take a drive and check it all out and cross off whichever may not work. I’ll find pretty places, okay?”

“Jimmy -”

“Gotta think positive ‘bout cauliflower! You got a bad habit of thinkin’ all the negative that most likely won’t happen,” he went on. “This isn’t all that bad if you think about it, see? Ya jus’ need some time to look and just think positive. Ain’t that right, sweet pea? Uncle Clyde’s gotta be positive!”

“Uh-huh!” Sadie nodded and pointed to Clyde. “You can do it, Uncle Clyde!”

Knowing that Sadie had no idea what was being discussed, Clyde sighed. “Thank you, sweetheart. Yer very kind to me when I need it.”

“Then can Daddy keep helping you?” Sadie asked curiously, looking between her father and uncle. “Daddy wants to help you with yer...cauliflower, so can he help you?”

Clyde pursed his lips and glanced to his brother, who was just giving him his charming grin like nothing was wrong. Jimmy knew of Clyde’s weakness of rarely saying no to his daughter, and most likely was using her as a last resort to get him to cave to his plan. Taking a deep breath, Clyde opened his mouth when the bar opened and Belle entered in the nick of time.

Belle wore her jeans and a light blouse, since it was rather humid outside with the on-and-off rain Boone Country has been having. Her hair was loose and her face all smiley as Sadie changed her attention to the woman, jumping off her spot and running towards her with a loud voice and waking the sleeping drunk for a few seconds.

“Auntie Belle!” Sadie squealed excitedly as she tackled the woman in a hug. Belle laughed and caught the blonde girl, kissing her cheeks repeatedly in spoiling her into a fit of giggled before looking up to the brothers.

“Hi boys, I’m sorry if I’m late,” she apologized as Sadie pulled away and hurried back to finish her drink as fast as possible. “I wanted to make sure that the irises were going to be okay with the weather today, since it didn’t rain yesterday. They seemed a bit dried out, but Miss Trudy said it’s suppose to rain later.”

“They’re jus’ flowers, Belle,” Jimmy snickered and the woman playfully pushed his arm.

“They grew naturally in the backyard, and they’re lovely!” Belle defended proudly before hugging Sadie from behind, making the girl grin as she finished her drink. Fixing Sadie’s hair carefully, Belle smiled to Clyde with her usual loving eyes. “How’s your shift so far, handsome? It seems pretty empty today.”

“Not with this jerk,” Clyde gestured to Jimmy, who pressed a hand to his chest and acted offended. “I think he needs to be escorted out for tryin’ to get free drinks from me, sayin’ I owe him.”

“Should I toss him out for you? Rough him up a bit so he knows not to bother my man anymore?” Belle asked cheekily and Jimmy was quick to lean away from Belle and making his daughter laugh.

“No, no, that’s not necessary here, ma’am. I promise I’ll behave better from now on!” Jimmy pleaded teasingly as Belle snuggled her cheek against Sadie’s hair, smiling brightly. “Please, I got a kid to take care of and leftovers still in the fridge.”

Belle giggled and stood straight, looking down to the girl. “How ‘bout it, honeybun? You ready to go dress shopping for your performance and get some treats?”

“Yeah!” The girl was quick to remove herself from the stool and half climb on Jimmy to give him a kiss on the cheek, running to the door and bounce in wait for Belle to follow and guide her out.

Belle smiled and propped herself on her hands on the countertop, grabbing the collar of Clyde’s button up and pulling him into a sweet kiss that he returned in time before she pulled away. A part of him wanted to chase after her and get another kiss, but wanting to avoid being teased by Jimmy and waking the drunk to the commotion, he held back and pouted to Belle like a sad puppy.

Belle giggled at the sight of her man before patting Jimmy’s arm. “You boys behave while we’re gone, alright? Maybe Sadie will pick something out for her dad if he promises to take care of her favorite uncle before I hand her off to Mellie.”

“Somethin’ with a lot caramel and peanuts, sweet pea! You know what I like!” Jimmy spoke loud enough for Sadie to give him a thumbs up as Belle waved goodbye to them to take Sadie’s hand and leaving the bar.

Once the door closed, Clyde was left with his older brother wagging his brows and giving him a toothy grin, making the other frown and narrow his eyes. Now he was really wishing that Belle would have dragged him out of the bar with her.

“Don’t you think ‘bout it.”

“I can head on out now and beat the traffic to get started. Can get ya five places tops before ya close,” Jimmy cooed and Clyde rolled his eyes again, tossing the towel to the counter before ringing the bell for the busboy to come up from the back.

The younger man emerged and looked to his boss, Clyde gesturing his right hand to the slumbering drunk still at the table. “Get him a call on his phone for a ride, he ain’t good enough to drive. Jimmy’s headin’ out and I’m goin’ to my office for a second,” he explained to him and the boy nodded quickly. Raising a finger to him, Clyde brought his serious voice into the mix. “Remember, no servin’ drinks to no one, kid. I come back and smell a lick of anythin’, and you know I can, yer in for bathroom and greaser duty.”

“Yes sir,” the busboy agreed quickly, making Jimmy snicker before getting up from his spot.

“I’ll be back in a bit!” Jimmy sang before heading out the door, and the busboy waved while Clyde left the counter and to the back hall where his office was hidden from everyone else.

The office was small and tight spaced, but Clyde still thought of it as a little escape whenever the bar got to be too much for him or he needed some quiet. The room managed to hold a office desk and a wheeled chair, a trash can and that was it - plain and simple, yet did its duty. Squeezing between the wall and desk, Clyde scooted to the chair and plopped himself down with a heavy sigh and melt against the worn cushion.

His right hand digging into his pocket, he fished out the velvet box he had kept on his person the whole time. Snapping it open, Clyde eyed the silver band with the encrusted diamond and pale pink jewels on either side; small and simple, but yet meant so much to the customization and the time he put into going out of his comfort zone to talk to the jeweler carefully on creating the ring. The jeweler was patient with him, which he was grateful, but the fact that Clyde was so red in the face the whole time he asked questions or requested to look at something up-close was embarrassing enough. How the old man said thoughtful compliments of how lucky Belle was going to be with having a man put so much thought into it nearly had him fainting a few times, yet he didn’t regret it at all.

Remembering the camping trip and how Belle spoke gently to him, telling him that she was willing to wait as long as they need to be brought back to where he wanted to surprise her - to propose in the same spot his parents did, Clyde felt his heart swell with adoration for her. How she kissed his frustration away and even tried to let him use her body to relieve stress after the fact they were rained out, he couldn’t believe how he was ever lucky enough to have her in his life. How the damn Logan Curse allowed him to have such an angel love him and be loved back, with all his flaws, only to be restricted of asking for her hand was impossible. He just wanted everything to be perfect for Belle, believing that it is what she deserves for all she has done for him. A simple proposal wouldn’t work…

Belle deserved the best proposal, and perhaps that would have to mean he would have to wait for the water to recede and let nature restore itself in order to propose. He can wait and keep the cauliflower plan going, just needing to be patient.

He won’t give up the cauliflower plan just yet, but he can’t risk being caught.

Snapping the box closed, he pressed his lips to the top of the box, as if begging it to give him some sort of luck like his horseshoe ring, as a sort of good luck kiss. Clyde was careful to open the drawer to his desk and place the velvet box inside with the utmost care. Closing the drawer, the man slowly stood up from his chair and scoot out of his office to return to the front to find the busboy helping the drunk patron stay awake long enough to drink water before his ride arrived to take him home.

Walking into the trailer with tired eyes, Clyde was surprised to see Belle sitting on the couch. Seeming to wait for him, Belle gave him a light smile at seeing his surprised expression and got up from her spot. She looked deep in thought and probably had been for a while, making Clyde wonder if something happened that called for Sadie to be dropped off to his sister early. Perhaps the Shirley Temple he made for Sadie upset her stomach and got her sick or something was wrong with Belle, and he instantly began to worry.

“Belle?” Clyde frowned as he hurried to take off his shoes, tossing his keys to the side. “Yer home early, I thought you’d be back ‘round dinner. Is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is. I just asked Mellie to take Sadie a little earlier than originally planned,” Belle explained in a volume of voice that he often didn’t hear from her: quiet and guarded. She seemed to bright and happy before on this rather dreary day, and he could tell something was off.

Approaching her as she zoned out for a moment, Clyde carefully brought his right hand up to rest of her shoulder and slide up to tilt her chin up. “Darlin’, what’s the matter? Somethin’ ain’t right with you and I’m gettin’ worried,” he urged softly to her and she bit her lip. “Did somethin’ happen?”

Belle looked at him and took a deep breath, reaching up to hold his wrist gently and lean her head to his hold. “You know that I really trust you, right, Clyde? I know you won’t lie to me if I were to come to you about something, because I love you and you love me, right?” she asked him softly, keeping eye contact. She wasn’t sad or angry, just...nervous?

Brows creasing in confusion, Clyde nodded. “O’course I love ya, Darlin’. With all my heart, I ain’t ever gonna hide anythin’ from you. What’s the matter?” He brought her back to the couch, sitting down first before urging her to sit next to him, his hand holding hers carefully.

“When Sadie and I were out shopping, she asked me something about what you and Jimmy have been discussing for a while,” she started, rubbing the back of her neck with her other hand. “She started asking me about how to care for cauliflower, not knowing what kind of ‘flower’ it was and how you and your brother have been having problems with it as of late…”

Clyde felt his face drop and pale. If he paid more attention to himself, he bet his heart stopped for a good minute as Belle looked him over carefully, waiting for a response that never came. Belle softly squeezed his hand and Clyde swallowed hard.

No. No, no, no.

“I know you’ve told me many times that you wouldn’t do any sort of cauliflower plans with Jimmy and everyone else, and how you won’t hide anything from me if there’s something wrong. I believe you, Clyde, so that’s why I’m talking to you about this,” she told him honestly. “What is this cauliflower you’re doing, because I know Mellie and probably Uncle Joe is involved with it, too, aren’t they?”

Clyde’s silence was a good enough answer. “Clyde, sweetie, if there’s an issue with money or anything, you know you don’t have to hide it from me. If there’s something you need help with, you know I don’t mind helping in any way that I can. Or even Jimmy, Mellie or Uncle Joe - I don’t care what you guys are having trouble with, I will want to help.”

Clyde stiffened and bit his lip hard, looking down to his lap. He couldn’t say anything to fix this; his mind going all over the place and panicking enough for him to start shutting down. He didn’t want to talk about this now, especially when he left the bar early to avoid Jimmy coming back with a list of potential proposal spots. He didn’t want this.

“You told me that you would never do another heist of any sort, and I really, really want to believe you, Clyde,” Belle said softly. “I’m willing to help you with whatever money you need, okay? I have plenty in savings and from Grandma and Grandpa’s inheritance, and I don’t need you to pay it back if it’s to help you.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Clyde slowly shook his head. “It ain’t that…”

“Then what is it, Clyde?”

“Can’t tell you.”

Belle was quiet for a moment. “You know I won’t judge you. I just want to make sure you’re safe, and whatever it is that you’re having trouble with, I’m here for you. I -”

“No, Belle,” Clyde shook his head quicker, feeling himself getting worked up. The memory of Jimmy trying to pressure him to accepting his help, the memory of staring at the ring in the box for who knows how long whenever he’s alone; Belle telling him, unknowingly, that it was okay and how she will wait for him, it was becoming too much for him. He felt trapped now. “I can’t tell you. You can’t know, and I can’t tell you.”

“Clyde,” Belle tried to reach for his face, seeing him starting to breathe a bit too hard. She tried to speak over him, trying to reach him to ease the situation as best as she could. “Clyde, honey, it’s okay. Please, calm do-”

“I said I can’t tell you, damn it! Leave me the fuck alone!”

He didn’t mean to shout at her. He didn’t mean to sound so angry at her, but it happened and it caused a reaction. Never had he raised his voice at her and he saw the shocked look in her eyes as she retreated completely from him, leaning away and holding her hands back as she yelped a bit. Realizing what he had done, Clyde’s throat tightened as he stared at her with wide eyes, his chin quivering as his teeth started to grind together. His only hand gripping his knee so tightly that his knuckles were changing color, Clyde felt his heart speed up drastically.

Watching her ease off the couch, Belle kept her voice down as to not upset him any more than she already thought she done. “Okay,” she said quietly, stepping around the coffee table to give him space as she twisted her hands. “It’s okay, Clyde. I’ll just go out for a walk and let us both cool down while you stay here and relax, alright? We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

Clyde wanted to cry. He wanted to get on his knees and beg Belle to forgive him for yelling so brutally at her, but he was stunned in his spot out of fear for what he had done. He watched from the corner of his eye as Belle took her light sweater off the hook by the door and slip it on, and he wanted nothing more than to tell her to stay and let him hold her. Similar to any bickering they’ve had in the past, nothing ever escalating to shouts or yelling, they always gave each other space with being in separate rooms until one or the other couldn’t stand to be away, seeking out comfort and being held…

This felt like it was not going to be one of those times for Clyde.

“I’ll be back in a little bit, alright?” Clyde heard her voice and he knew she was holding back tears as she opened the screen door. “You don’t need to tell me right away if you don’t want to, but please know that I’m here for you. I love you very, very much, Clyde. Remember that.”

Her farewell and closing of the door caused tears to fall down his cheeks and sink into his beard, and he released a shaky sob as he dropped his head into his only hand. He wanted to call her back, run after her and hug her close and never let her go. Clyde wanted to kiss away her tears and whisper numerous apologies into her ear as he cradled her and kissed her with all the love and passion he could. But, despite all his wantings to do just that to keep his beloved here in this emotionally struggling time, Clyde Logan couldn’t move from the couch.

And so, Clyde cried alone.

Fun fact: Hurting Clyde also hurts me.

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