#i know its way too long but i love this part so

[moodymisty]

Part 1

Author's note: I love him

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mortarion's confession, NSFW flashback in the beginning with male masturbation, vomit (nonsexual and unrelated to NSFW scene), gross Morty body stuff, he has zero rizz

The repeated hiss of his respirator is heavy in the stagnant air of the hall, only occasionally losing its smooth crescendo and decline when his throat hitches. His breathing has never been normal- he stopped caring about that sort of thing long ago.

Pale eyes glance around again.

You should be here by now; But he spots nothing familiar.

Did you decide- to for the first time since he first cast his eyes on you- to disobey him? Did something else distract you?

His mind fills with imagery of you wandering off somewhere else, to someone else- and in an impulsive fit of doubt he decides that he would have one of his men drag you here if need be.

He could, and if anything the behavior would be expected of him. Encouraged. You don't make the Pale King wait.

But yet... He waits- patiently- eyes flicking to the entryway every twenty seconds or so. A primarch standing around like a beaten dog waiting for it's master.

Embarrassing.

Attempting to clear his throat Mortarion shifts beneath his clothes, feeling the way they almost stick to his skin. He bathed himself relatively recently by his standards- though instead of the stick of grime and dirt, it's the catch of dried sweat from no less than an hour ago.

He can still feel that sensation in the back of his head, the aftershocks of thoughts and actions forbidden. He hates how this one has lingered. They've all begun to.

His cock throbbed, leaking over his gaunt, pale fingers and making his shaft slicker- and the feeling even more pleasant.

He covered his face full of a warranted shame, grunting and huffing as he ground into his own hand like some sort of feral street dog. His knees cracked, his back ached- he imagined the callused give of his hand was warmer, wetter, tighter- squeezing around him. Pushing back. Trying to push him out; The difference in size too great. The way he was bent made the imagery more vivid, like you were pinned underneath him.

If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could just picture it, though the image was just out of reach- his fingertips ghosting the very edge but unable to grasp it.

He stained the fabric of his bed once he was done, shoving it into the fireplace to burn. No one will ever see the scattering of fabric that is yet burned, nor would they question it even if they did.

How much farther can he let himself fall? Enough that he's found himself overtaken by desires that he once thought were pointless- inconvenient and only satiated out of maintenance, desperate for something he knows he cannot have?

Maybe... Perhaps if he-

If you refuse him, he can abandon this entire pursuit- throw himself back into his work and give not a single thought to you again. You could leave The Endurance and he wouldn't even know you were gone, lost among an endless sea of pointless existences.

Because he can't... he can't keep doing this.

It's consuming his mind- You are consuming his mind.

You eat away at it like a disease bent on devouring him more than the poisons of Barbarus ever have; At least they never impeded with his mental capacity.

As you do right now- your soft eyes eat away at his dried, scarred skin like a flesh eating plague as you come to stand before him, and now his tongue feels as if it's made of lead.

He called you here- coming to you would seem too desperate- and your first words had been to apologize if you had offended him. A smart intuition, because you did offend him; You offended him by refusing to leave his mind, you offended him by refusing to leave him be in the sanctity of his warship, you offended him by offering him what he can only describe as pity.

But pity wears away; You've stayed, endured where your fellows left. For what reasons kept you going? Kept you here? He'd like to know.

"I," Mortarion hesitates for a moment. "I wish to speak to you about a particular matter."

This is it. He is just going to do it. Just get over this, and if you refuse? if you run away from him in fear or disgust? He's down his last remembrancer.

boo hoo. He never wanted them anyhow.

His rusty armor clunks against each other as he shifts. You watch him with expectancy, a soft look on your face that has Mortarion almost at a loss for words, if only for a moment.

He should take off his respirator for this.

It's clunky, gets in the way, he feels like it muffles his speech and baseline humans have trouble understanding him. Their paltry hearing, though it is fact. Though he's never remembered you having an issue with it.

He can feel your eyes watching keenly as he starts to unfasten in, accidentally tangling his hair a bit at the nape of his neck. He hears the hiss as it unseals, and he pulls it away from his face to fasten it to his belt. He feels ok, and takes on full breath of cool Terran air before opening his mouth to let the first unmuffled word pass.

But before a single word can leave his lips he instantly rips into a massive cough, covering his mouth with his hands. He feels spittle and blood from popped blood vessels hit his palms, and his ribs shift uncomfortably as he keels over. He can feel the way his lungs are ripping themselves apart, filling with blood and mucus. The next cough sends him to his knee, his leg plating hitting the ground hard enough to crack the tile beneath him.

He can barely make out your expression standing before him as tears prick the corners of his eyes, and another burst of coughs tear at his throat like the claws of a gauntlet.

You look horrified.

He tries with all his might to tense his throat and halt the hacking, but only manages to suck in just enough breath that it brushes the back of his throat and makes it all worse.

You take a step closer to him, but it's clear there's nothing you can do to help him.

"L-Lord Mortarion! Are you-"

From the incessant coughing his throat seizes up so much, his stomach muscles ache in pain, and he feels a familiar rising warmth in his face and mouth.

No. No no no no no-

Fulgrim's banquet feast from the night before suddenly rises in his throat, then his mouth, and before he can even try stopping it- it's running through his fingers and all over the floor with a disgusting splatter.

After harsh fit of coughing wracks his body, slowly feeling the ache in his chest of his lungs finally healing before it finally secedes; He wipes his eyes to see you standing and staring at him in shock, the primarch's dinner all over the floor in front of you.

Mortarion has had a long life; Longer that yours, by a decent margin. Embarrassment was never something he dealt with.

Now, he feels like he is quite literally going to explode. If the ground were to open up and swallow him, he would probably acquiesce to his fate with little complaint.

No one would miss him. Plus he's sure Garro and Typhon would manage just fine without him.

"Are..."

You look at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. He can see your lips twitch as you try to find the words. He perhaps would understand if your little brain couldn't find any.

"...Are you ok?"

He doesn't quite know how to answer that question, honestly.

His lungs have degraded and rebuilt themselves enough to breathe this cool, poison-less air, and while he had anticipated some coughing, he failed to remember just how... Intense, it could get.

He should have known eating last night was a mistake.

You just seem worried, however- looking at him like he's going to fall right over hands outstretched towards him. You look at him like he's sick, but sick in a way that would could in theory help.

You take a step forward, much to his surprise; Though of course not close enough to risk slipping.

By the Throne- the half thought of that crosses his mind and he wants to cast his own head into his bedchamber's fireplace.

"I-" Mortarion lets out another brief cough; Of which thankfully doesn't lead into another fit. "I am fine."

He is fine- his lungs have adjusted and the air doesn't burn his throat, but you don't seem to take his words seriously. With the deftness of your thin fingers you unwrap the shawl around your shoulders, handing it to him.

"...Here."

He doesn't get what you mean by this at first, staring at the patterned fabric like it in some way offended him. You gesture it out to him again, and he then realizes you're offering it to him to clean up, of which he then begrudgingly grabs, before wiping the bile out of the corners of his mouth and fingers.

The soft fabric of your clothing now destroyed, he balls it up in his fist and holds onto it, discontent to ever dare try and return it to you soiled.

"Lets, lets get you something to drink. I would think you might need one right about now..."

You reach to grasp his hand- the clean one- and try to pull him along, of which he allows, surprisingly.

He lets himself get toted along by someone half his size; A pathetic sight.

He continues to let it happen until you find a serf you can order to get some water, and Mortarion can shirk off to clean his hand and face.

His mouth doesn't taste like bile anymore, at least.

When he sees you again after he's cleaned up, there's an odd look on your face. Your wring your wrists nervously.

"...You were going to say something?" You look at him expectantly, before clarifying. "Before you started coughing, you... You said you wanted to talk to me. What was it?"

He had.

He had wanted to tell you how he felt, and instead he had humiliated himself by coughing blood and vomit all over the floor. He displayed right in front of you that he is a broken, sick and decayed excuse for a man; He was built for death and war, not... this. The fact that he's even allowed himself to make a fool out of himself like this is an embarrassment to the entire legion and reputation he's crafted.

How you could ever look at him the way he so boldly, pathetically, desperately wishes when he- a primarch- just displayed what a vile excuse for a human he is?

Mortarion swallows thickly like there's a literal knot in his throat, before just turning around and walking away.

[svsss-brainrot-blog]

Luo Binghe and Shen yuan interaction where Luo Binghe can read Shen Yuans thoughts.

It comes with the dusk, after a long day handling strange flowers for trade, when Shizun deigns to allow his humble and devoted husband to bathe him, and run the teeth of his ivory comb through long, dark tresses.

“Ah, Luo Binghe,” echoes in the back of his mind, like a sacred whisper, something warm flowing within it. “You are far too good to this old man.”

His hands still for a moment, halfway through a stroke of devotion. With a curious hum, Shizun’s eyes open, catching his in the mirror, and a trace of confusion slinks through that place behind his own thoughts.

“Binghe? Is something wrong?” His eyes search over him in that way they always have, but there is nothing to see when his mind is where the curiosity lays.

The thing is, Luo Binghe is not unused to having another’s thoughts in his mind. But he has never had Shizun’s. Even more so, it seems his revered master and husband has no idea that he’s doing it. Perhaps one of the Tethered Thought Lilies from earlier had managed to cling some of its pollen to the demon’s sleeve without notice. A careless mistake, he ought to know better. He’ll have to scour the room to make sure he didn’t track anything else in by accident.

“Nothing is wrong, Shizun,” Luo Binghe assured him, resuming the task at hand. The lilies were not very potent, and with the level of cultivation he and his husband possessed, they could not garner an effect for more than a few incense sticks’ worth of time, if that. “This humble disciple was only admiring the beautiful view.”

Right on cue, a fetching trace of pink races to color the fine, soft pale skin of Shen Qingqiu’s face.

“I swear he’s trying to get me to explode some days! What shameless words! How much more must I be expected to endure before he makes his move?”

“Shizun must know,” Luo Binghe continues, setting down the comb in favor of nosing along his husband’s neck. “That he is the best sight this unworthy one could ever see, in any lifetime.”

“This is it,” come Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts, trilling with something like anticipation. “The part where he kisses me and whisks me away...”

Luo Binghe smiled, and, just to be contrary, pulled back to pick up the comb once more.

“Huh? He didn’t…?”

Luo Binghe twisted the long, luxurious hair into a simple braid. “May this lowly one accompany Shizun to rest?”

“What. The. Hell.” His Shizun’s voice nipped at his mind, filled with a buzz that the demon lord could only identify as the beginnings of irritation. “Where the fuck is my kiss, Luo Binghe?! All that talk all day of love and devotion and you aren’t even going to kiss your one and only fucking husband goodnight?! What was all that buildup today for if you were going to back off at the last moment?!”

“If it pleases Binghe, this master will permit it,” is what his husband actually says with grace and elegance, but Luo Binghe is struck dumb for a moment by the sheer intensity and vulgarity that just swept through his mind. Something sharp and unpleasant digs into his consciousness where he can feel their short, unplanned bond.

With a smooth motion, Shen Qingqiu stands from the vanity and slips away, and as soon as his hair leaves Luo Binghe’s hands, the thread that binds them snaps.

“Shizun wait,” the demon calls, quickly moving to hold the other around the waist, nearly melting as the feeling of connection returns.

“Stupid.” Shizun’s voice cuts through at the first brush, cold and cruel. “What idiotic thing was I thinking? He had his fill just this morning, he would not care enough for it again so soon. And why should I care? Not every word is meant to ply my willingness. Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

And then, a thought so quiet, it barely registers under all the other cacophony. “Did I do something to displease him? Is that why?”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe calls, once more burrowing into his neck. Guilt cut thick through his heart, making the scar on his chest ache. Shizun would fret, and undo all the effort Luo Binghe had put into his relaxing bath, but he could not bear to let his most beloved think he was unwanted. “…Shizun could never displease this lowly demon.”

“What.” Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts echo his words.

“Forgive me, Shizun,” Luo Binghe asks, tightening his hold. “It seems this unfilial one had some pollen left on his sleeves from the Tethered Thought Lilies. I should not have pried.”

“FUCK,” his inner thoughts declare as he abruptly pulls away.

“Luo Binghe!” his master chastises with a scandalized expression. “You-!”

“Shizun’s thoughts are so straightforward,” Luo Binghe says, bowing his head. “And this one did not think the short duration would be of consequence. But this Luo Binghe was wrong.” Still, he reached out, pulling the other close once again. “But this one did not mean to upset his husband, whom he loves dearly and longs for with great affection.”

With as much repentance as he could muster, Luo Binghe laid a chaste kiss at the corner of his husband’s lips. The immortal master simply stared at him for several long moments, tumultuous emotions flittering through the back of Luo Binghe’s mind faster than he could decipher.

“Take me to bed if you’re truly so sorry, you foolish thing.”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe purred, lifting the other easily into his arms for a proper kiss as he carried them to their chambers. “I love you.”

“Fool,” Shizun sighed, acting put upon even as a trill of pleased satisfaction rumbled through Luo Binghe’s thoughts.

“I love you too.”

[afyrian]

friends to lovers w/ msby | headcanons

m.list

sakusa kiyoomi

- only became friends with you cause you were neighbors - he helped move your couch up to your apartment - you offered to buy him dinner in exchange for more help - after that you would just find each other everywhere - sakusa’s on the elevator when you are - he’s at the same coffee shop - even getting his groceries at the same time - so you start hanging out more - you’ll go watch his games - he’ll beta read your food-based articles - even joining you to try a new restaurant for your blog - the change happened for him first - when you spilled wine on his couch - you were so apologetic, doing anything you could to clean it - fell for you first AND harder - he kept it a secret for awhile - not even telling the rest of the team - (although atsumu found out pretty early on) - only told you when you confessed to him - ‘i like you.. and i appreciate your friendship, i just can’t continue like this’ [you] - ‘i like you too, and i have for a while’ [sakusa]

atsumu miya

- met you at a volleyball game - thought you to be one his many fans - 'you want my signature or a photo? or both?' [atsumu] - 'i'm sorry who are you?' [you] - humbled him immediately - you were there investigating one of the teams for fraud and its connection with a coach - he wanted in on it as soon as he heard - wanting to tell others that he was part of a 'serious investigation' - when really you were just writing for the city's news station - however, you do come to find out that he's pretty good at it - he'd get you interviews you couldn't get before - even chatting to the coach to get him to lie through his teeth - 'pretty good investigator, aren't i?' [atsumu] - 'depends on what you define as good...' [you] - you have a very playful relationship together - meeting up at small coffee shops to discuss it - him getting a shout out at the bottom of your article - you quickly realize your own feelings a few weeks later - he’s laughing about something hinata said and the first person he looked to was you - and there’s a light in his eyes that you realize has been there every time he’s looked into your’s

hinata shoyo

- you met him on a layover out of brazil - you were in another part of the country when your layout took you to rio de janeiro - hinata bumped into you when walking to your gate - ‘i’m so sorry, i should’ve looked-’ [you] - ‘it’s okay! i should’ve been paying more attention too’ [hinata] - as an apology he walked you to your gate - only realizing when you got there that it was his gate too - you talk the enter time you’re waiting to board - he ends up in front of you on the airplane - the two of you chat as everyone gets situated on the plane - just as you’re getting off, hinata hands you a piece of paper with his phone number - ‘maybe we can meet up later’ [hinata] - ‘i’d love to!’ [you] - as you make your way down the aisle, the paper falls from your hand - it disappears beneath a few rows - so you spend the next year wondering what would’ve happened - magically, you run into him again at a coffee shop - ‘hinata?’ [you] - he was ecstatic to see you again - offering to buy your coffee and chat - knowing you had just gotten out of an almost year long relationship, you tell him it can only be platonic - he accepts profusely - as you chat, you start wondering if anything could be there - and you spend a couple months strictly as friends - only breaking that rule when you invite him out to dinner

bokuto kotaro

- prefers being friends before dating - so when he meets you at his favorite coffee shop, he's inclined to learn about you slowly - you just started as a barista and you happily welcome his morning routine - he'll always come in with the intent to try something new - however, he always convinces himself to buy the same thing - 'well we have a new seasonal flavor-' [you] - 'no, no, i think the usual will work today' [bokuto] - until one day when he asked for a baked good and wanted to know if you could hang out during your break - and it slowly became routine for the two of you - you’d talk about everything under the sun - about your schooling, his volleyball, your personal lives - eventually he brings his friends to the shop to meet you - and what cements his budding crush on you is just how well you get along with them all - akaashi to atsumu, you’re able to communicate so well with them - watching you be so kind to them just got his heart beating - and he’s vocal about a lot but he was too nervous to say anything - especially when he didn’t want to lose your friendship - so he only said something when akaashi told him to - telling him that he could ‘totally see’ the crush you have on him

gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 10 (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: I bare you an angsty distraction for the day <3. I'm not going to add my Ko-Fi to this post because I want you to keep your money and use it today to do something that brings you peace.

This is your sign to go buy that venti cup of coffee, buy that book you've been wanting to read, or get that shirt you've been eyeing at the store. Go...be <3.

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, of the rougher variety (they are letting off some steam), belt as handcuffs, after care always <3, FLUFF, they love her and she loves them

ANGST *does disco arms on a dance floor of angst*

Mediation begins so we get more insight on Gina, I don't go into detail of her claims (it doesn't matter anyway cause she be lyin!), the guys take her to an event where someone flirts with her (its someone they know and HATE), Y/N insists the guys use her since they've been keeping things in, near the end they talk about why they've been afraid to be rough with her when they are upset, go into a bit more of their relationship with her, cliffhanger ending (because I can :)) but I think you'll like this one.

Word Count: 5199

Series Here

This was a new experience for you when it came to the two men that you loved. 

Today was the day of their mediation to hopefully get things resolved without having to fully go to court. They were dressed from head to toe in their more formal attire with Eddie’s hair pulled back into a ponytail and Steve’s fluffy mane slicked back away from his face. 

Originally they didn’t want you to go but at the last minute the rockstar insisted stating that he didn’t want to hide any of this from you like they had tried to before.

“Like we said, sweetheart, we told you everything but she’s probably going to get a bit more specific about certain things… we never did the things she claimed but we also weren’t exactly good men.”

When Gina and her lawyers came in they both straightened up immediately. 

You couldn’t deny she was a beautiful woman with her long brown hair and fit physique that squeezed a bit too perfectly in her short pink dress that cut off just above her knee. For some reason you were under the impression that she was closer to your age but now that you were able to see her face to face you realized she was closer to theirs. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the room till they landed on you sitting quietly in the back closer to their side. 

As she grinned wide and rose to her feet so did Steve before both lawyers grabbed each person’s wrist and mumbled something while Gina smirked his way. Even after she took her seat again it took the mogul a few more moments before he finally did the same. 

Someone you assumed was a judge or at least in charge started to speak and read out instruction for this particular review. The entire time he spoke, their ex watched them like a lion waiting for prey. She was playing a game she intended to win even if it meant hurting them in the process. 

##############

A couple of days after the mediation, both men were barely in the apartment and when they were you didn’t want to push them. Occasionally, your hand would tenderly run along Steve’s shoulders as he worked and in response he would grab your palm to kiss the back before letting you go to focus again. When you noticed Eddie smoking on the balcony in his sweats but no jacket, you would bring one out to him but as you turned to go back inside, he would wrap his arms around you, bringing your back to his chest as he held you tightly. 

Tonight was an event they couldn’t ignore, hardly covering their distain as their stylist and her team came over to dress them and you up for the evening. 

Just as they had before when you stepped out of the bedroom, both men froze as their eyes took you in. Since this wasn’t exactly an elegant affair, Stephanie had you in a red dress that clung to your curves, showing off your arms and chest a bit more than you were used to. 

“What do you think?”, you ask as you smooth the material around your stomach. “I’ve never worn something that showed off my upper half like this.”

“You look absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”, Eddie exhaled breathlessly as he stepped forward to caress your cheek making your eyes flutter at the intoxicating cologne that surrounded him. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, baby. I just…is there a sweater or jacket, Steph?”

The ever gentleman he was, Steve started to remove his own suit jacket before the stylist stepped forward to hand you a matching shawl to wrap around your shoulders. 

“Thank you.”

The mogul softly smiled your way as he tilted down to kiss your forehead. 

“You look beautiful, honey. We need to get you a necklace or something that you can wear. Not that it matters right now, I mean you look breathtaking as is. I was just—”

“Steve!”, you giggle as his friend lightly shoves his arm. “I knew what you meant.”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly light up as he abruptly runs towards the hallway and turns into what was once his old bedroom but was now being used as a place for him to play and record his music. Beaming widely, he saunters back down the hallway with his hands behind his back. 

“Close your eyes.” Biting your lip, you do as he says, smiling just as widely as he had when you felt something cool and flat touch your chest. “I wore this in high school but obviously my jewelry game has gotten WAY better.”, he chuckles and backs away from you. 

Glancing down, you fingers hold up the red guitar pick that was attached to the chain now clasped around your neck. 

“We’ll obviously buy you some more prettier things but—”

Your lips cut him off before you tilt back and wipe away the lipstick that remained. 

“This is perfect, Eddie, thank you.”

***

You weren’t sure what to expect this time around now that people knew you were with them but unless they said any different, you were going to do as you did before. This was their territory not yours and they knew how to navigate the sea of fame better then you ever could. 

“Did you want to take pictures or would you rather wait inside?”, Steve asked as they waited in line to enter the building. 

“You’d take pictures with me?”

His eyes blinked as if you asked one of the most complicated questions he had ever heard. 

“Of course, baby, but only if you’re comfortable.”

“I…I just…I don’t know what to do…”

“You just stand there and look beautiful, princess.”, Eddie grinned.

“I don’t want to embarrass you or anything.”

“What makes you think you would?” When you shrugged, the mogul saw the confidence they loved so much about you slowly receding from your eyes for fear of ruining something you perceived as important to them. His large palms cup your cheeks as he brings your lips to his and the sound of cameras clicking fill your ears. “All that matters to me is you.”

Photographers scream their names as cameras continue to go off but neither of them moves except for Eddie who leans down to kiss you as well. 

“We can just walk right passed and go inside. You hold all the power here, baby girl, but no matter what we aren’t doing this…”, he gestures towards the reporters. “…without you.”

Nodding, you take each boy’s hand and allow them to take over as they stand beside you to pose for photos. Occasionally the rockstar whispered something in your ear to make you laugh that helps to calm your nerves as your smile stretches wide across your face. 

“Mr. Munson, how are you feeling today? You look so happy!”, an interviewer asked enthusiastically. 

“Thank you. I am, I am. I’m here with my best friend and this beautiful angel, I mean…”, he chuckles as you blush. “…I’m an incredibly lucky man.”

“How are you tonight, Y/N? You do look exceptionally beautiful! Let’s get a double take here.”, she encourages as you step back and Steve spins you 360 to show off your dress. 

“Thank you so much. I’m good. I’m nervous. You’re my first ever interview so… you look gorgeous to. I love your earrings.”, you praise as she playfully shows them off for the camera behind her. 

‘Oh, you’re so sweet. I look forward to many more interactions in the future.”

While you three step closer to the door something catches the mogul’s eye that has him tugging at his friend’s sleeve before both men pull you inside. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, baby, you did amazing.”, he whispers as he leans down to kiss your cheek. 

***

Something in their mood changed as soon as you guys were finally in the building and sitting at the table as drinks were being served. On the walk there, they didn’t let you drift too far, sticking by your side as they or you spoke to people around you. 

While you were eating, they seemed to always have some part of their body on yours and seemed to be knocking back the champagne a bit more than you were. 

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real fast.”, you whisper as you get to your feet. 

“I’ll walk you—”

“Eddie, baby.”, you say as you place your palm on his shoulder to keep him seated. “I don’t need an escort to pee, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He didn’t seem at all calmed especially when you felt both their eyes watch you as disappeared down the hallway. After finishing your needs and adjusting the rockstar’s necklace around you, you give yourself one final pep talk as you head back into the fray. 

“Ow!”

“Shit! Oh my god. I am so sorry! Are you alright?”, you ask frantically as you try to consol the young man you accidently hit with the bathroom door. “God, I’m such mess.”

“Ah, no, no worries. I’m alright. Got me pretty good there though.”, the boy chuckled as his palm rubbed his nose before taking note of your worried demeanor. “It’s ok. I’m seriously alright, see? I’d have lost my contract a long time ago if I couldn’t take a few hits. I’m Roman, Roman Hart.”, he grins as he extends his palm for you to shake. 

As you provide him with your name the man laughs a bit harder. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“No? Should I?”

“I’m a quarterback for the New York football team.”

“Ah! Ok, yeah, still have no idea who you are.”, you giggle. “I’m not really into sports and the few players I do recognize are from my hometown. Well, it was nice meeting you and again, I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“No worries.”, he grins. “May I walk you back to your seat? Maybe, we can get to know each other a bit more and you can tell me your favorite guitarist.”

As he reaches out to delicately touch the guitar pick on your chest, something in his tone rubs you the wrong way as your smile falls.

“I’m ok, Mr. Hart, but I appreciate the offer.” 

Swiftly turning to leave him behind, you bump into a broad chest that’s heavy breathing with anger and glance up to see Steve’s furious features. 

“What are you doing, Roman?”

“Hey, Steve. How are—”

“WHAT are you doing!?”

“Jesus, old man. Take a breath.” At the man’s dismissive tone, the mogul started to step forward but you hastily put yourself between them as you place your palm on his chest. “This beautiful woman here hit me in the face with the door on accident and we were just talking.”

“Bullshit. Did she put you up to this?”

“Well, someone’s paranoid.”

“And someone’s a little bitch.”, Eddie growled the quarterback’s way as he came up behind his friend. “Didn’t think you were manipulatable enough to do Gina’s bidding.”

At his words, Roman’s eyes squint as he glares at the rockstar. 

“You’re the football player she cheated on them with.”, you breathe as your own eyes close in frustration. 

“Is it cheating when she’s already fucking two guys? I guess not since she said you two could barely get it up for her let alone satisfy her.”, he sassed, this time causing Eddie to step towards him. 

“No.”, you scolded in your teacher tone hoping that was stronger than your arms because you were struggling to hold both men in their place. “Go away. There’s nothing I want from her or you.”

“She’s been wanting to talk to you.”

“Then she needs to stop sending men to do her bidding and come talk to me but again there’s nothing I want or need from her.”

“Gina said she wanted to talk to you the other day but…”, he pauses as he glances at Steve. 

“Come on, guys, let’s go home.”, you murmur as try to push them back but they don’t budge. “Please… he’s trying to get a rise out of you. Don’t let him win.”

It takes a few seconds before the mogul finally turns around and begins to stomp down the hallway as the rockstar grips your hand. 

“If you come near her again, it won’t be a door that hits you in the face.”, Eddie threatened as Roman grinned and winked your way.

#################

“Can we talk?”, you ask as Eddie veers towards the kitchen to grab a beer and Steve starts to take off his suit jacket as he heads towards the bedroom. 

“We’ll talk about it later, Y/N.”

“I want to talk about it now, Steven.” At your words, he heavily exhales as he turns to face you. “I’ve given you two space these past few days but this was a big deal. She overstepped a boundary by doing this.”

“Ok, honey. Agreed. Now what?”, he responded sarcastically as he shrugged. 

You blinked as your gaze shifted between both men as Eddie came up to your side.

“You don’t have to hold it in. It’s ok to be angry. I told you if you needed to throw a tantrum or vent, you could. I know the word.”

“We’re not angry, Y/N.”, the rockstar sighs and your jaw clenches. 

“Really? You’re not angry at all that she sent the man she cheated on you with to come speak with me? The same man she was caught fucking in a car by paparazzi because she was so brazen about her infidelity yet hid her relationship with you both?” As you spoke, Eddie’s fist clenched tighter around the glass in his hand while Steve placed his hands on his hips as they glared your way.

“You aren’t angry that he said you two could never satisfy her even though you went out of your way to make her happy? Or the fact that at that hearing the other day, she had the audacity to giggle her way through her testimony while saying things like how she never imagined you, Eddie, could hurt her because of how you talked about your mom or, Steve, how you manipulated her the way your dad did by giving his side pieces better jewelry and things than you ever gave her.”

Slowly sauntering forward, you place yourself directly in front Eddie’s chest as his eyes blaze down into yours. 

“You aren’t angry that Roman touched my skin with his fingers; my body that belongs to you two and only you?”, you murmur as your palm rubs his chest through the opening in his button up shirt before backing away to find home in front of Steve. “It’s not only the fact that he touched me but that he wasn’t afraid to do it. He thought he’d get away with it no matter what because you’re ‘old men’ who can’t satisfy a woman…especially a young woman like me.

The tip of your nose caressed his as your words landed breathily against his lips. 

“Hm. Well, I guess you’re more mature than me because I’m furious I can’t make her stop hurting you the way she does.”

Flashing them a soft smile, you start to walk away but Steve’s fingers around your wrist give you pause as he pulls you back to crash his mouth to your own. There’s a fever behind it that has you moaning as Eddie comes up behind you to unzip your dress and tug it down your frame. 

You tear at the mogul’s shirt and he pants as you sloppily kiss down his chest. Tilting down to pick you up, he throws you over his shoulder and you watch as the rockstar removes pieces of his own suit as he trails behind, tossing them to the floor without a care.

After throwing you onto the bed, you watched as Steve unbuckled his belt and handed it to his friend who quickly bound your wrists above your head as the other man’s face fell in-between your legs. 

“Fuck, Daddy.”, you whined as you pulled on your restraints, desperate to run your fingers through his hair while his tongue and mouth devoured your pussy like a man possessed. Eddie leaned over your body to hand his friend something but it didn’t take you long to realize what it was as the sound of buzzing filled the room and vibration from the wand was pressed against your clit. “Oh…my…”

“Atta girl.”, the rockstar cooed as he took hold of your ankles to help keep your legs open and in the air. “We know how to take care of you, sweetheart.”

“Mhmm.”, you groaned as Steve’s tongue moved faster in and out of your entrance. 

“Do you think we’re too old, little girl?”

“No, Daddy. I’ve never—mmph—I’ve never thought that.”

“Do you think someone your own age can fuck you better than us?!”

“Never, Daddy. No one—fuck I’m gonna cum—no one fucks me like you two.”

Your legs tremble in Eddie’s grasp as the coil snaps and the mogul presses the wand harder against your clit to elongate your high. As your legs fall to the bed, Steve unbuttons his slacks and frees his cock, leaning down to spit directly into your hole before guiding himself inside you.

“Say that again.”, he rumbles.

“No one fucks me like you two, Daddy.”

“And who does this pussy belong to?”

“You two, Daddy.”

His large palm wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly as his hips roughly snap, punching a sharp grunt from your lips. 

“WHO does this pussy belong to?”

“Ah! Steve and Eddie!”

“That’s right. Say it again.”, Steve growls as his rhythm quickens.

“M-My pussy belongs to—fuck—Steve Harrington and E-Eddie Munson!”

The mogul fell fully on top of you as he pounded his cock deep inside you with a rough abandon that had you wincing a couple of times.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to fucking kill him when I saw his hands on you. If you—oh my god—if you hadn’t stopped me I’d have put him the fucking hospital. No one fucking touches you like that except us.”

“No…one…baby…Fuck me…harder, Steve. I can…handle it.”

Pushing up on his knees, he took hold of the wand again and pressed it to your puffy nub, smirking a bit to himself as he watched you squirm. 

Ringed fingers gripped your hair and as you turned your head you were met with Eddie’s cock. Opening wide, you allowed him entry between your parted lips and he was anything but gentle as he thrust his hips. 

You whimpered around him and they knew you were close to the edge proving them right when your pussy clenched around Steve’s dick like a vice especially when the rockstar held you still to choke around his length. 

You panted when he finally pulled away and the mogul grunted loudly as he slammed his release aggressively into your cunt till he was empty. 

They didn’t allow you a second to breathe as Eddie seamlessly flipped you over and placed his entire frame on top of your back before he shifted his waist a bit and you felt his cock effortlessly slid into your aching pussy. 

With one hand around your neck and the other underneath you gripping one of your breasts, he remained close to you, absorbing you with his weight as he roughly rolled his hips. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Y-You’d never hurt us like that would you? You’d never cheat on--”

“N-Never, Daddy. Mmm—I love you so much…both of you. H-H-Harder, Eddie. Use me.”

The man’s hold on you tightens as he honors your statement and pumps into you so hard the bed underneath you shakes. 

Your orgasm crashes like a rouge wave and you scream their title before you’re abruptly rolled onto your back as the rockstar grunts and climbs up your body to shove his cock down your throat. Your eyes squeeze shut as you allow him to use your mouth till you feel his release hit your tongue and you swallow every drop. 

As soon as he pulls himself back, Eddie lays on you again resting his head on your chest waiting patiently for you to play with his hair like you always do but the lightbulb doesn’t go off till he finally glances up to see if you’re ok. 

“Shit! Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry. Why didn’t you say anything?!”, he panics as he reaches up to quickly remove the belt from your wrists and carefully bring your arms down to your sides. 

“May I have some water, please?”

Hearing the hoarseness of your voice, Steve doesn’t hesitate as he powerwalks to their kitchen and comes back with a cold glass of water. Amber and chocolate eyes scan you over with concern as you chug back the liquid and flinch as it slides down your throat. 

“I’m going to make her bath.”, the mogul announces as he turns to head towards the bathroom. 

Eddie’s fingers brush some of your hair away from your face and in return you fall into his equally sweaty chest. 

“I love you, Eddie.”, you whisper.

“I love you to, princess. Come on. Let’s take a nice relaxing bath.”

Noticing you struggling to move, the man lifts you in his arms and carries you the rest of the way. While the rockstar climbs into the water with you, Steve sits on the edge face you both as he leans against the wall, studying you as his friend washes your skin. 

When Eddie starts to clean between your legs, you wince causing Steve’s face to twitch with worry. 

“I know, baby girl, I know. I’m almost done.”, the rockstar tries to comfort as you began to softly cry. 

When your eyes lock with the other boy’s, you gently smile and he does the same. 

“I love you, Steve.”

“I love you to, honey.”, he murmurs as he leans forward to grab your hand so he can kiss the back of it. “I, um, I hope you know we aren’t angry with you or anything. We know that…you weren’t…flirting or—”

“I know. As soon as he touched me…I knew something was off. I swear I didn’t recognize him—”

“We know.”, Eddie soothes as he kisses your cheek. “It did trigger something though. Memories of her being more than polite just to get a rise out of us. Add in what you mentioned…”

“That he had the audacity to touch you and talk to you because he thought we wouldn’t do anything.”, Steve clarified when your eyebrows furrowed. “Because, ya know, we’re grandpas and all that.”

A large grin stretches across both their faces at the sound of your laugh as it echoes through the bathroom. 

“He said that was the reason but you know that’s not why right? It’s not your age, its that she sees you as weak. That’s what this whole display is about. That’s why she wants to talk to me. She knows I don’t see you that way and she genuinely believes she can change my mind like she did with everyone else in her circle.”

“Listen to baby girl over here talking like a lawyer. Do you want to take over our case because you absolutely can.”, Eddie jokes as he pulls you back into a tight hug. 

Steve’s face slowly changes as his eyes flood with concern before his fingers extend to lightly trace the skin along your neck. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, the mogul exhales as he rises to his feet. “Ed, go ahead, get her dressed, and when you’re done bring her to the kitchen.”

“Ay yi, Captain.”, the rockstar sasses as he climbs out of the water and grabs a towel. “Again, boy talking to me like he’s my Daddy.”

When his eyes linger where Steve’s had, you shifted your gaze towards the mirror to find growing bruises the size of fingerprints along your throat. 

“It’s ok, Eddie, I promise.”, you coo as you reach up to caress his cheek. “I would have used the safe word if you both were hurting me.”

With a tight smile, he nods, gently drying you before throwing some pajamas over your body and carrying you into the kitchen to place you on the counter. 

“Ok, honey, this is going to be cold.”, Steve announces as he rubs his hands together and rubs them along your skin. Your squeak at the cold gel makes him chuckle as he continues his task. “This stuff is pretty good. It should lessen’ that colorization before work on Monday.”

“Hey.”, you call softly as you grip his chin and tilt his eyes up to meet yours. “Not the first time your fingers have left bruises on my body. In a good way of course.”

His movements slow for just a moment before he sighs and continues. 

“This is different.”

“How?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“We don’t actively want to hurt you, sweetheart.”, Eddie answers for him. “You said we could use you to…throw a tantrum as you call it but…”

“Remember last time, when you got scared that you triggered something by being a brat?” You nod at Steve’s question. “Same thing more or less. She…brings out the worst in us.”

“You keep saying that but I just don’t see it. I really don’t, Steve.”

The rockstar hopped up beside you and handed you a cup of warm tea eliciting a cute little sigh that makes them smile as the liquid slides down your throat. 

“You’ve never pushed.” Blinking at Eddie’s statement, he exhaled as he petted your head. “Kind of like what Roman did, she would dangle men in front of us till we snapped. We would scream, yell, shout but it never got physical until we were playing. We made sure she reiterated she knew the word but she never used it. She…fuck…we did drugs together once. She kept pushing and pushing until one bad night I agreed. It was the one and only time I did blow and she held it over my head forever.”

“She would call him names and imply he was angry for something SHE did because he was stoned which he wasn’t.”

“I…it reminded me of my dad and I knew if Wayne found out he would be so disappointed.” As the rockstars head hung, you moved his hair behind his ear and tenderly kissed his cheek.

“Sometimes, Y/N, I would be so wasted from a party the three of us went to that when we were intimate…there were times I felt like I wasn’t in control…She would egg me on talking about how pathetic I was and I would feel my grip tighten…” As he spoke, Steve’s eyes flicked to your throat. “There were times…I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me…”

Extending your legs, you wrapped them around his waist bringing him to you so you could hug them both tightly.

“I know you’ve been through a lot with her and aren’t even close to being done but please don’t hold it in. Talk to me or hell if you can’t find the words then use me. I know I’m safe with you.”

“Pfft, you can’t just say shit like that and not expect us to swoon, princess.”, Eddie teases as he lays his head on your shoulder and blinks his eyes obnoxiously.

“What if we were done. With the case.”, Steve interjects.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…what if we paid what she’s asking for?”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”, you growl a bit sharply making them both chuckle as the mogul cups your cheeks to bring your forehead to his lips. 

“Because, baby girl, if we did that then everything would end now and we can move on with our lives…be happy just the three of us.”

Sighing, you jump down from the counter, regretting your decision as your core throbs at the soreness. They watch you scoot to the sofa before following, Steve placing himself on his knees in front of you as Eddie sits beside you holding your tea and carefully putting an ice pack between your legs. 

“Thank you.”, you murmur as he lays his arm behind your head. “Steven, if you think this will stop her then you aren’t as smart as I thought you were. If you give in, she’ll just keep coming at you guys asking for more and more. It may not be now but it’s not the money she’s after. She likes toying with you and when she realizes she can’t change my mind she’ll probably do the same with me to.”

“Over my dead body.”, the mogul grumbles as you smirk. 

“You both have to be smart about this. Don’t let her win.”

“What do you think we should do, baby?”, Eddie asks as his fingers begin to play with your hair.

################

Gina saunters into Steve’s empty building with a giddy sense of pride. When the mogul emailed her that God awful formal statement asking her to meet them in his office she literally danced around her (Roman’s) massive bedroom as she began getting ready. 

She knew sending the quarterback would rattle their cage. Eddie was the easiest one to shake but Steve was the most fun to make jealous. Neither boy was the possessive type but the mogul held in his emotions more than his friend and watching him break was just…so much fun.

When he stood up to keep her from talking to you, she knew exactly what she needed to do. You meant nothing to her. Whether she could get you on her side or not didn’t matter to her one bit but if she could convince you in someway to leave them… 

The thought of them broken hearted as they crawled back to her drove her insane. One way or another she’d get the money she was owed but to watch them grumble after abandoning her? Well, that was just a bonus.

“You know, boys, we could have done this at my place.”

“Last we checked; you don’t have one.”

At the sound of your voice, her head shot up to take in the setting before her. 

Instead of Steve sitting at his desk, you were in his large office chair while both men were seated off to the side on his couch he kept by the wall. While they were dressed a bit more casually, you were in a red, long sleeve velvet dress that had a belt around your hips accentuating your curves. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, displaying the guitar pick necklace Eddie had once told her was his favorite.

As you stood up and came around the desk, your red heels Steve bought you clacked across the floor. 

Her startled eyes scanned you over constantly before she took a step backward causing a smirk to flicker across your lips. 

“Well Gina, you wanted to talk to me so here I am. Let’s talk.”

###############

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @myherometalhead

AGAIN! Here's hoping the tags do what I want this time lol

[gingernut1314]

Your Name

Summary: You hear someone calling out for you and you are desperate to find them

Content: gender-neutral reader, childhood friends, reunion after years, ace giving the warmest of hugs

Word Count: 520+

A/N: Just a little something to help brighten @sordidmusings day up! I hope you enjoy lovely and know I love you so so much!! 🫶🫶 also a one piece fic? from me?? omg I feel like it has been a while oof

↞ to One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

You heard your name above all the noise and staticy buzzing in your ears. 

It was faint at first, but definitely your name. 

Where was it coming from? Who was calling for you?

The crew around you didn’t seem to hear it, too busy cheering and laughing and celebrating to hear it being called.

You didn’t want to celebrate. Not one bit. Especially now when someone was calling for you. Calling for you in a way that had your heart restart and beat in an urgency to find it.

Your name grew clearer and clearer the more you wandered through the crowd searching for whoever was calling for you.

You knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years but one you needed close now more than ever. 

Your eyes burned and blurred as your name was called again. You wanted to call back, but the tightening of your throat gave you pause. 

But when the voice began to float in the opposite direction, you fought through the frog in your throat and called his name. A name you hadn’t spoken, hadn’t dared to speak, in three long years. 

Your name was shouted now, coming back towards you. You stayed planted in your spot, knowing he would find you as you gave one last call of his name. 

The crowd seemed to part and there he was. Shaggy, black hair that needed a good scrub, sun-kissed skin covered in a layering of freckles. His dark, near black, brown eyes eased upon finding you, thin lips pulling at their corners. 

He called your name in relief at finally finding you.

“Ace.” You called back, voice wavering despite your wish to keep your upset nature at bay. His name on your lips was all it took to make the man you had missed so desperately rush forward, scooping you up in his strong arms. 

He held you close, enveloping you in his sunny warmth you wished to stay within forever. You buried your face in his shoulder, feeling those tears you had tried to keep back begin to wet his skin. 

You breathed his smoky scent in deep. A smell that instantly reminded you of back home. Of campfires he would put on for you, Luffy, and Sabo. Fires you and him would sit by late into the night, cuddled up next to each other. It was a smell you had craved to inhale again and nearly sobbed at its return.

“I told you I’d find you again.” He muttered into your neck, placing a soft kiss there. “Didn’t I?” You nodded, holding him just that much tighter as you sucked in a shaky breath. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?” 

“Please.” Ace pulled away, holding onto your shoulders as he took in every bit of your face he could. His lips tugged upward once more and you drank in the sight of that smirking smile you loved.

“Damn--I missed you.” And before you could even think to tell him just how much you missed him back, he was grabbing your hand and whisking you out of the crowd and into the chill night air.

[silenttrxxs]

MISTLETOE AND WHINE

SMUT! - NSFW

the last thing you wanted was to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, snowed inside the most beautiful cabin ever. the power coming from the back up generator kicking off and causing you to root through your phone with the limited battery to call the power network company to come and help you. you looked up from your phone and smiled sheepishly as the two men looked at you with sly grins, the fire roaring to keep some heat in the cabin. Courtesy of Seonghwa having the brains to think of stoking the flames up. You sat back down, taking the blanket and wrapping it around your body shivering as the cold air made its way through your bones. You was always one to feel the cold more than normal, you sighed and looked at San, sitting across from you on the sofa as he scrolled through his phone. "hey you okay" you breathed out quietly. He looked up and smiled at you, his nose red as the chill was visibly affecting him. Seonghwa turnt around and smiled at you both, his lips parting to speak. "Why dont we all huddle up to keep warm until someone comes to boot the generator up" he said walking over and grabbing the giant blanket. Seonghwa smiled nervously as he approached you, his body sliding next to you as he moved ensuring your body was enclosed between himself and san, the blanket covering each of you just enough. "warm enough sannie" seonghwa asked smiling at him. San smiled and placed his phone down, the blanket moving and his body intertwining around yourself and seonghwa in a way that should be humanly impossible. "how long until we get power back in this place then darlings" he says giggling a little as your arm wraps around him sliding under his jumper and shirt taking his warmth from his skin. "ill get a call when they are close by so until then we just have to stay warm" you said as you leant your head on seonghwas shoulder.

"you okay hwaie" you breathed out lifting your head to look at him. "yeah i have some ideas of how to stay warm... but... " he laughs cutting off his sentence as his cheeks flush red, the cold long forgotten as he felt your hand on his leg. A silent agreement to his suggestion.

"i think your idea is just perfect baby" you breathed out. you hand gripping onto his thigh with a little force causing the older to jump a little. San watched and giggled at the sight, standing up and stretching. "i have some presents for you both, if you wouldn't mind staying right there while i go and grab them" he said before disappearing into the bedroom. He rooted through his bag pulling out the boxes he bought for you and hwa. He smiled at the boxes and giggled as he pulled the mistletoe from his bag and hid them all behind his back. You smiled as seonghwa held you close, his warmth keeping you cosy, you felt his hands wandering across your thighs as you heard the footsteps. "hey sannie what took you so long" you asked looking at him. "what you hiding" you asked scanning his body as he walked closer to you both.

"oh these its nothing, just need you on your feet now if you wouldnt mind my love" he asked standing in front of the fire. "you too hwa... dont think you're getting out of this that easily" san said giggling to himself.

You got to your feet and smiled as you felt seonghwa standing behind you, his arms wrapped around you as he tried to keep you warm with the lack of the blanket. San smiled at the sight and moved his hands showing you both the boxes. "firstly these are yours but i want something from you both before you open them" he smiled... holding the mistletoe up above his head. he laughed as he saw seonghwas gaze fall on the mistletoe, he noted the bright cherry red blush that creeped along his cheeks before he moved a little on his feet. "ill go first..." he mumbled before standing in front of san. "youre so cheesy you know that right" seonghwa said before leaning down a little and placing a chaste kiss to sans lips. "hey you stole my lip balm... i knew i didnt loose it" he giggled before going to sit down. San smiled and giggled as hwa rambled. The kiss sending a shiver through his body. He blushed as he pulled away, your eyes glued to the sight before you. You couldnt help but be in awe of the 2 men before you, unsure how you became so lucky to be stuck with them. You regretted the moment the generator gave up but you stood there watching the two people you love the most sharing an intimate moment and the love you felt for them both exploded across your body like a cacophony of fireworks. A fire that set ablaze throughout your entire nervous system.

You walked a little closer to san, gasping as you felt his hands slide across your back pulling you closer, his lips attaching to yours, the kiss sending pure shivers through you as he deepened the kiss. Seonghwa blushed as he watched you both, letting a little cough out. "sorry hwaie you know i cant help myself" san laughed as he handed your box to you and ushered you to sit in between them both again. You and hwa both looked at the boxes and smiled sliding the ribbon from the boxes to unveil a beautiful bracelet, the gold shining in the flames that shed the cabin in a cosy glow. "i hope you both like them, theyre to show you both how much you mean to me, the date we met is engraved on them both." San said as he watched both of your reactions.

Seonghwa welled up as he slid the bracelet on. Sniffling a little as he looked up at san. Seonghwa watched as san took the clasp of your bracelet and carefully attached the bracelet to your wrist. You looked at him as he did so, your heart swelling with love. "Isnt he the best" you spoke up looking at hwa. "y-yeah he is, i feel bad cause i havent got anything for anyone yet...i was waiting to get home for actual christmas" He said laughing a little nervously.

"hey i can think of something we can give to him, i think itll be a good early christmas present" you said your tone dropping a little, the glint in your eyes changing as you spoke. You watched as the change in your voice and the look in your eyes caused hwa to shift in his seat a little. The air warming up a little as you shifted closer to san. Your leg draped over his as you leant into his neck, your lips ghosting over his neck as you spoke. "why dont we treat our sannie" you breathed out as you attached your lips to his neck. The action causing a groan to leave sans body as he looked up, watching as hwa slide next to you both.

"fuck" he sighed out as he felt both of your bodies draped over his, your hands wandering across his chest, clothes long forgotten across the room as your body stayed moving above him. You didnt know how you got to this point but you darent complain, the feeling of san deep inside you making your toes curl, the heat from you both enough to start a fire. you gasped as you felt his hands guiding your movements, the groans causing your core to clench around him. You looked up as you watched the way that seonghwa walked closer, his hand stroking his length in front of your face. His other hand gripping your chin as he let his length drop onto your tongue. You gasped at the taste, you took his tip into your mouth, sucking gently, taking his length into your mouth slowly inch by inch. The sight below him causing him moan loudly, hisses leaving his body as your tongue worked around his length. "fuck baby" he hissed. "such a good slut for us arent you" he breathed out gripping your hair as he watched sans face contort. You clenched around sans length as he guided your movements, his hips thrusting into you harder, the grip was sure to leave marks on your skin for days to come but you wouldnt have it any other way. You continued bouncing on san, you core tightening and clenching around him as your mouth lulled open. The noises coming from san and seonghwa making you spill over san. His load filling you up as the action caused the eldest of you all to release his load landing on your tongue and face. "fuck" you all breathed out in unison, all gasping loudly as the lights came back on.

[mustainegf]

Okay, I just thought this idea was so cute so I wanted to share - cliff practicing on quieter and calmer songs on the bass while reader lays in bed, so sort of like a lullaby in terms i suppose, and when he climbs into bed she just tells him how good it sounded and which parts of his peices she really liked before they go to sleep

Thank yew elena!!💋

THIS IS SO CUTE AHH since its a short little plot, this is more of a drabble!

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁴

Its late, and the sleep tugs at me. Only that soft glow of the moon creeps in through the window. Cliff is sitting on the floor beside the bed, his bass in his hands. I can hear the soft plucking of strings, the way he strokes the notes. He's practicing again, but not the heavy, thrashing kind of music most people know him for. It's softer, more melodic, something that feels like a secret, just for us. I can't see his face where I lie, but I know the expression he'd wear.

Concentrated, yet calm, as though he has slipped into some little world of his own. His fingers trace along the strings so incredibly easily, forming sounds that are calming and almost hypnotic in nature. It's pretty- the way he plays. I can tell even from half asleep just how talented he is. I always think no one hears this side of him but me.

The music floats through the room, slow and gentle, wrapping itself around me like a blanket. I listen with eyes closed, letting the notes sink into my skin. Sometimes I hum along, but I'm too tired for that tonight. The soft plucking of the bass, the buzz of strings here and there, makes some sort of lullaby. I am so at peace, caught in this particular sound and time.

Cliff never plays like this when he's on stage, and that is one thing I always loved about him. He's so different at home, as if there are two versions of him living in two different worlds. He's fierce, wild, and full of energy on the stage. But in the quiet of our bedroom, he's gentle and still. It feels almost like he's giving me a piece of him that no one else ever sees. That makes me feel so fortunate.

After a little while, the music starts to slow down, and I can tell he's winding down. The notes become more infrequent, softer now, almost like whispers. Finally, the music stops, and all I can hear is the quiet hum of the amp. It fades after a moment, replaced by nothing at all.

Cliff eases the bass down gently, oh so quiet, it would appear. I feel the bed dip as he climbs in beside me. His arm wraps around my waist, and I can feel the heat of him beside me. He smells of leather and smoke, familiar and comforting. I smile, even though my eyes are still closed. His fingers trace lazy circles on my back, barely touching but enough to make me shiver.

"You're so good," I mumble. "It was beautiful, like always..."

He laughs softly, almost incredulous. Cliff never takes compliments well, but I say it anyway, every time. He presses a kiss to the back of my neck and sends warmth washing over my skin.

"You really think that?" he asks softly, his voice low.

"Mmhmm, " I manage to get out, too exhausted to say more, but sincere in my tone. I always am. There's just something about the way he plays that feels so special... such talent. Like he's pouring his soul into the strings, and I get to be the one who hears it.

He pulls me closer, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, the pulse steady and slow. It's moments like this that make everything else seem to fade away: long days, tours, chaos-all that seems so very far away when it's just the two of us like this.

I feel myself drifting off again, but I don't want to let this moment go yet. Sleep is pulling me under, and I know I won't be able to fight it for much longer.

"You're amazing," I whisper one last time before it pulls me under. Cliff says nothing, but I feel a smile against my skin as his arms squeeze tighter around me. And in that, I know he understands. He always does. In the dead of night, when the last sounds of his bass have died out completely, I fall asleep in his arms, and I'm at peace.

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Am Forever Yours (part 2)

Day 5: Home

Summary: He thought her worthy enough.

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Word Count: 1136

Warnings: nothin just fluff 🥹

A/n: i love love LOVEEEE this one its so soft 🥺

@lucienweekofficial

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Another jolt shook the carriage, and Y/n clenched her thighs to prevent herself from toppling straight into the prince’s lap.

It was becoming harder and harder to stay in her seat the longer they remained on the rocky road they traversed on the insistence of the prince. Apparently, it was the scenic route.

She was the only one in the carriage with him, their parents and other members of court travelling in different carriages as they made their way to the King’s palace that was sparsely used save for hosting royal weddings. Y/n had expected to go through the same route her parents were supposed to be using, but Lucien had insisted otherwise.

"Are you sure this is supposed to be the better route? I am quite concerned about my wellbeing when- and if- we finally arrive."

He laughed, carefree and open as if he was not the reason her bones were knocking together.

"Just a few more moments, and we’ll reach smooth ground again."

Y/n sighed and leaned back, her fingers clutching at the fine upholstered material of the seat she occupied, thinking of the best way to ask him why he thought this was a good idea without offending him.

"My lord, I do not wish to be disrespectful, but-"

"Oh cut the formalities, my lady. Ask what you wish to."

Y/n blinked, wondering if he even realised he didn’t listen to his own words. But she proceeded nonetheless. "Why are we taking this route? Surely you do not enjoy being thrown against the hard walls of this carriage?"

He offered her a slight smile, settling back as the jostling carriage slowed to a smooth race.

"Lady Oak, you must know, I like you quite a lot. And you, I hope, like me too. I thought that while we are getting married soon, I should trust you with parts of me no one has seen before."

Y/n swallowed, unable to move her gaze from his even as the intensity in his eyes seemed to conquer her soul.

"As I have previously mentioned, I do not live with my family at the palace. I tend to travel the kingdom, and when I do not have anything to do, I stay at my home away from everyone. You see, I rather like the quiet comfort of my humble home than the extravagance of the palace."

Y/n blinked at him, taken aback. "I did not know that, my lord."

He smiled. "And neither does anyone except my parents, siblings and the carriage driver. Though I prefer to ride my horses when travelling, for it is better for speed when alone."

He paused, heaving a sigh before he continued speaking as the carriage came to a stop. "I wanted to… show you my home. I know it might be nothing compared to the palace, but it’s something I cherish a lot."

Disgusting tears. Stop pricking my eyes.

Y/n scooted forward, hesitantly touching the back of his hand. "I’m honoured, my lord."

His smile was radiant as he turned his palm and grasped hers tightly, bringing it to his lips. "I am glad you feel that way. And it’s Lucien. Would you like to take a look inside?"

Y/n nodded silently, watching him as he hopped out of the carriage and turned to help her down. The chaperone that had accompanied Y/n and Lucien on the insistence of their parents did not turn to look at the two, his spine straight, and Y/n knew that Lucien had probably bribed him to ignore their little adventure.

The house was not small by any means, a large front porch and stables accompanying the large structure. It of course was a child’s toy compared to the king’s palace, but it probably would have been more that half the size of the estate Y/n grew up in.

Lucien led her inside without a word, and he remained silent for as long as the two were there. He kept looking at Y/n, as if unsure what she would think of it, worried she would hate it.

Y/n was quite baffled he would think she would dislike what he called home but she was much too engrossed in staring at all the little trinkets, the little souvenirs and carpets scattered across the space that told of a home well loved to reassure him.

It was only when the two hurried back to the carriage and began moving to the palace did Y/n look at Lucien. He was already staring at her, his eyes searching her face.

"I love your home, my lo- Lucien."

Instantly, his lips split into a grin. "Really?"

Y/n nodded with a shy smile. "It is beautiful. I’d rather live in a smaller home than the palace too. And that home, I… I can see myself turning old there."

He looked down at his lap, his ears turning a shade darker. "Thank you."

Y/n turned her gaze downward to watch her fingers fiddling with each other, thanking the mother for giving her such an adorable husband. He was not the pompous ass she had thought he’d be, given he was the youngest prince. He had unknowingly forced Y/n into softening the shell around her heart to let him in. She still remembered the way she had behaved with him when they first met, how she’d tried her best to be uninterested in him.

It hadn’t really worked, somehow backfiring. But she was glad it had.

"That house… it was my old caretaker’s house which she left for me after her passing. It means a lot to me. I used to come here to hide away from my father when he turned violent, and with time, I made it my everything. It’s the first place I felt like I actually belonged.  My family knows I have my own home, but no one has ever been here."

She blinked. "So I am the first one to ever… visit?"

Y/n lips ticked up, warmth spreading through her chest at knowing the fact that she was the first one to see the home he cherished so much.

I am not worthy.

"Lady Oak-"

"It’s Y/n."

He ducked his head in a nod, cheeks dimpling. "Y/n, we’ve still got an hour to pass. You should get some sleep."

She groaned. "As much as I am happy that you thought me worthy of revealing such an important aspect of your life, I must say that I do not wish to forgive you for the anguish you’ve caused my bones."

He laughed, loud and hearty. "Forgive me for my sins, wife."

It was Y/n’s turn to blush now.

He only smirked.

"Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[cjsmalley]

The Potter-Weasley-Delacour Agreement:

“There will be some agreements to be dealt with,” Harry said, flicking his wand; a roll of parchment and an enchanted quill began floating between the three of them.

“Some concessions I want before I hand over my DNA,” Harry continued seriously, “some we can haggle on, some I will not be moved on.”

Bill and Fleur looked wary but nodded; Harry was known for his fairness and, if he agreed, would be doing them a massive favor. It made sense he would want something in return.

“First of all, you will name me her legal Godfather and will it so that if anything happens to your families, custody will go to me—”

“You are sure it will be a girl?” Fleur asked, surprised.

“Muggles have ways of deciding sex if science is involved,” Harry explained, “if you want a girl she will be—biologically—one. Whether she feels like one will be her decision. On that note, if she comes out as gay, bisexual, pansexual, or transgender and you kick her—or him—out I will house and love them as my own.”

Fleur smiled, “Most Veela are, how you say, bisexual. I will love my child no matter what they become.”

“Yeah, mate,” Bill nodded, “we’re alright there. But thank you for offering them a home.”

Harry nodded back, before continuing, “Speaking of home, you will swear to uphold any and all secrets you may learn about the Potters, Longbottoms, Fentons, or any other connected families.”

Bill and Fleur looked to each other worriedly, Bill allowing, “As long as it’s nothing too illegal.”

“It’s not illegal,” Harry assured, “but it is a secret for a reason. Ron, Hermione, and Luna are the only non-family that know our secrets. Them and Healer Gellar. You cannot talk about it to anyone else.”

“Is it dangerous to our child?” Fleur asked next.

Harry smiled warmly, “No, Fleur. Let’s just say if anything happens to her she’ll have a literal army for backup. That’s all I will say for now. But she’ll be one of the safest little girls in this world.”

“Alright.” Bill agreed for himself and his wife.

“Good. I’ll make some inquiries later then tell you the secret,” Harry told them, before continuing down his list of demands, “Next, I want her to be informed of her biological parentage by the age of her majority. I am not looking to replace Bill as her Dad, at most I will be Uncle Harry, but I feel she must be given all the information possible for her to make informed decisions about her life. I will also be releasing all medical information on the Potters as soon as she is viable. However, if she figures things out at an earlier age, I will not lie to her. You must be comfortable with this.”

Bill flexed his hand but nodded, “Sounds reasonable enough. And of course you can be her Uncle.”

“My next request, and this one is debatable,” Harry assured, “if Fleur decides to carry the pregnancy as normal; I am to be kept updated on its’ progress and viability. I will not ask to make decisions for you two, that’s between you and your healer or midwife or whatever. Though I do also request you use my Aunt Sam’s team of experts as she has both a muggle doctor and a magical midwife on staff.”

“Once you tell us the secret, we will decide on what midwife to use,” Fleur replied, before smiling, “but yes, we will keep you updated.”

“Another request is that I be present at the birth, not in the room,” Harry assured quickly, “but nearby, waiting with family. Again, I do not mean to intrude or overstep boundaries…”

“That is reasonable,” Fleur agreed.

“Another request is that you allow the Potter family to be just as involved as the Weasleys and Delacours if we so wish. We will not be Dad or grandparents but—”

“You will still be family, Harry,” Bill smiled, “of course your parents can be in her life. In fact, all your family can be.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, “It’s part of the secret but I have a lot of cousins—that treat me and Nev as their brothers. My family also includes a werewolf—”

“Remus is a wonderful man,” Bill declared firmly, “who we are happy to have around our child, provided he takes his Wolfsbane Potion as needed.”

Harry smiled, “Okay, good. You can change your mind after you know the secret but for right now, good. The next non-negotiable demand I have is that the Potters’ will put aside a trust fund for her, as will likely another branch of the family. We will pay for her schooling, whether that be at Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or Salem for all we care.”

“We can’t—” Bill began, still unsettled by what he saw as charity.

“You can and you will because—and this is my next non-negotiable demand—one, if not both, of you must quit their job as a Curse-Breaker. It’s too dangerous and I don’t want her orphaned. It’s already rendered Bill sterile. The Potters and another branch of my family will provide a stipend for any lost income. Once she is in school, you may resume your job as a Curse-Breaker; but I want her at least old enough to understand why Mummy and Daddy won’t be coming home if something horrid happens.”

Bill and Fleur held a whispered conversation in the Goblin language, fast and furious, before Bill said, “If we agree to that demand, you’ll promise to support the survivor if one of us dies?”

“Of course!”

“And if you must take custody,” Fleur said, “you will continue to allow contact with our families?”

“As long as there’s no abuse involved, of course,” Harry got a strange look on his face, “alright. I can tell you a secret about the Potters only—we, me and Dad and Grandma Euphemia, are Parselmouths.”

Bill went pale, “What?”

“What is a Parselmouth?” Fleur questioned worriedly at her husband’s reaction.

Harry rolled his eyes, “It means someone that can talk to snakes. It’s seen as a Dark talent in the British Isles. My grandmother was from India, where being a Parselmouth is seen as a good thing.”

“Slytherins are always Parselmouth—the family, not the Hogwarts House. You-Know-Who was a Parselmouth,” Bill further explained.

“We are very distantly related through all that Pureblood nonsense,” Harry admitted, “along with every other Pureblood family. Even the Weasleys are related to Ol’ Voldemort—oh, for Ancients’ sake Bill! It’s just a name and the Taboo is broken!”

Bill had flinched at the name Voldemort, “Sorry, sorry. Habit.”

“So there is a chance our daughter could speak to serpents,” Fleur nodded, “and you swear this is not a wholly Dark talent?”

“No more than being Veela makes you a mere Creature, Fleur,” Harry assured, causing her to nod again, “but if there is going to be a problem, Bill, then we should call this whole thing off.”

“You swear it’s good magic?” Bill questioned.

“It’s not good or evil, Bill. It’s just a talent for a language,” Harry shrugged, “like how Blacks tend to throw out metamorphagi and the Weasleys are good at fertility magic. Sure there’s been some bad actors with the talent but there’s been bad guys who speak English and French.”

Bill took a calming breath and nodded, “I’ll work on my prejudice then…if you and your Dad can do it it must not be all bad.”

Harry studied him but nodded curtly.

“You may be her godfather,” Fleur started, “and biological father but you will not give our daughter pets without our consent. Even a serpent.”

“Right,” Harry nodded again, “no pets without permission. I’ll promise I won’t give her pets but the rest of my family…one of my cousins is very into animals and animal welfare…”

Bill chuckled, “So we better be prepared for anything, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned before becoming serious, “speaking of anything, anything so far you object to or want? I’m open.”

“I would like you to attempt something,” Fleur spoke up, “your skill with enchantments is becoming legendary. If you could perhaps create something, a piece of jewelry perhaps, to combat her Allure…It may come in too early…when I was a teenager…” her face became haunted and Bill took her flexing, now clawed hand,

Harry nodded, already turning the problem over in his mind, “Yes, of course. Fleur, I swear if anything happens to our girl, we will get Justice.”

“The laws,” she argued, “A Veela’s Allure…it is a rapist’s defense…”

“Fleur…” Harry said calmly, gently though his green eyes blazed, “were you…?”

“No,” she denied, hesitating before explaining, “But my…other Veela have been. My cousins…and the man always walked free, having claimed he had no control. It is part of the reason we have asked you to father my child, Harry. You are immune to my Allure and do not desire me sexually. Between us it would truly be platonic…I want children but I do fear for them.”

Harry, very seriously, knelt before her and took her free hand in both of his and said, lowly, “Fleur, you have my word that if anything happens to any of your children, whether I father them or not, we will gain Justice. My family—no, not the Potters, though they’ll help—my extended family will make sure of that. But of course I will make something for their Allure. The extended family might have a few ideas.”

Fleur sobbed and hugged him tightly.

For the rest of the afternoon, they went over the rest of Harry’s conditions for donating; by nightfall, the three had come to the last agreement and parted ways.

Harry returned home, opened a portal, and stepped into the Realms.

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

[rosieswriting]

Barty Crouch Jr x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: After the birthday of your dear friend, Pandora Rosier, Barty doesn´t seem as bad as he did before

Note: I took one of the request of reader "tutoring" barty not knowing he doesn´t need it by @treefairy-28 thank youuuu. And english is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! And i will do a part 2 to where things get really interesting

Words: 3,2K

You’d always hated Barty Crouch Junior. Everything about him grated on your nerves—the way he spoke too loudly in class, yet still managed to top every exam; the infuriating pet names he used for you; his smug belief that being a Slytherin somehow made him superior, especially to Hufflepuffs like you. His walk, his talk—everything about him seemed designed to annoy you. Luckily, you’d always managed to ignore him. Until now.

You’d recently been paired with Pandora Rosier for a Potions project, and to your surprise, you’d quickly grown close. How had you not been friends before? She was sweet, caring, and easy to talk to—similar to you in so many ways. When her birthday rolled around, she invited you to a small celebration at the Three Broomsticks with her twin, Evan, and a few of his friends. Including him. You’d thought long and hard about it, knowing you’d have to deal with Barty, but in the end, you decided to go. After all, it was for Pandora, and you could always try to ignore him.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, busier than you’d expected. It seemed half of Hogwarts was out celebrating. Just as you were scanning the room, you heard Pandora’s cheerful voice calling your name.

“Happy Birthday!” you said warmly, pulling her into a hug and handing her a small box containing a silver necklace.

Pandora’s eyes lit up as she opened it. “Oh, I love this! Thank you so much,” she beamed, hugging you again. “Come on, we’re over here.”

She led you through the crowded room toward a cozy corner table. And, of course, as you approached, you saw Evan Rosier, Regulus Black and Barty leaning back in his chair, already watching you with that familiar smirk.

“Hi” you mumbled a bit shyly to the slytherin as you sat next to Pandora, and to your luck, Barty was seated right in front of you. Regulus and Evan gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment and continue their conversation.

“Look who decided to join us” Barty teased raising his eyebrows “Dindt think you would show up, Treasure”

“Barty” Pandora said with a warning tone to his friend, trying to shut him up. But he only raised his hands in self innocence and exuse himself with a poor “just trying to start a conversation”

“I wouldn’t miss Dora´s birthday just because I have to deal with you, Junior” you said with a fake sweet smile to him.

“Deal with me? You wound me Badger” he said and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“If its any consolation, im actually impressed that your ego managed to fit through the door” is the last thing you say before turning to talk to Pandora and ignore him.

You and your blonde friend talk for some time, she telling you about how her birthday has been and all the presents she got. At some point you start to get thirsty.

“Im gonna ask for something to drink, ill be right back” you say kindly as you stand up from the chair.

“I’ll go with you” you hear Barty says as he stands up as well.

“Great” you whisper under your breath as you start to make your way to the bar, him following behind you.

You ordered a butterbeer, and Barty, naturally, ordered the same, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours. The warm, subtle contact sent an unexpected flutter through you, though you tried to ignore it.

“I must admit,” he began, leaning down just enough to speak directly into your ear, “when Evan told us Dora would invite you, my expectations for tonight went up higher.”

“Good for you,” you muttered, turning to face him with an eye roll, only to find his face so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. You quickly turned your gaze forward again, pretending to study the bottles lined up behind the bar. He chuckled, catching the slight blush that had crept up your cheeks “When Dora mentioned you were coming, I almost declined her invitation” you continued, doing your best to sound unfazed

 “If you say so. But, can I just say, you show up here looking like this, put me in my place with that sweet, sassy voice of yours… you’re killing me here.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks.  Thankfully, the bartender hands you both your drinks before you have to answer. You turn to make your way back to the table, but Barty steps in front of you, forcing you to stop short as he smirks down at you, close enough that you catch the faintest spark in his gaze.

“You know, I think you secretly like driving me a little mad,” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s cute, really—seeing you pretend to be so above it all.”

“Pretend?” you scoff, raising an eyebrow as you try to sidestep him. “Trust me, Junior, I’m not pretending anything.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, following you smoothly, keeping pace as you try to dodge around him. “Then explain why you look so flustered.”

“I’m not—” You stop, realizing he’s caught you, the faint blush on your cheeks betraying you. You try to shrug it off, holding your head high. “In your dreams, Junior”

He grins, leaning in close enough that his voice is a murmur just for you. “Oh, Treasure. In my dreams we are doing more than talking. Belive me”

You huffed, finally brushing past him and making your way back to the table. “Idiot,” you muttered, though you couldn’t ignore the faint thrill left in the air.

Sliding back into your seat next to Pandora, you tried to steady yourself as she happily dove back into conversation, thankfully distracting you from the lingering heat in your cheeks and Barty’s lingering gaze across the table.

As the night wore on, you and the slytherins stepped out of the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks into the chilly night air. The sharp bite of winter nipped at your skin, making you shiver as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to keep warm. You hadn’t brought a jacket and now you were regretting it.

Pandora was chatting animatedly with Evan and Regulus, blissfully unaware of your growing discomfort. Barty walked alongside you, his familiar smirk already playing on his lips. You knew he was about to make a comment, and you braced yourself.

Without warning, Barty slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you before you had the chance to protest. “Here, wear this,” he said, his voice low and smooth, ignoring your startled expression. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “You don´t have to-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Please, like I’d let you suffer while I stand here all warm and toasty.” He chuckled. “You show up looking all stunning, and I won’t let you ruin it by turning into an icicle.”

Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture, the warmth of his jacket enveloping you like a shield. You tried to regain your composure, shivering slightly as you adjusted the jacket to fit more snugly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity, Junior.” You weren´t willing to give up that easily.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Charity?” he teased, falling into step beside you again, his grin infuriatingly charming. “I thought it was more of a gentlemanly move, if you will.”

“Gentlemanly? You?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“Why so skeptical? I can be quite the gentleman when the mood strikes me,” he said, leaning in closer again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, I can’t have my favorite Hufflepuff catching a cold now, can I?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his words, and you tried to deflect, “You’re just doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But I also happen to enjoy the view when you’re flustered. You should see your face right now. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” You repeated incredulously, fighting the urge to smile. “You really think you’re charming, don’t you?”

He leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say charming. More like irresistible.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you shot him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Junior.”

“Trust me, I will,” he shot back with that devil-may-care grin.

Pandora turned to you both, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh my gosh, you two are so cute! You’re practically flirting!” she gushed, completely unaware of your desire to bury your face in your hands.

“Flirting?” you exclaimed, turning to Barty in disbelief. “This isn’t flirting; it’s sheer torture!”

Barty chuckled, his gaze locked on yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Torture? Maybe I’ll have to keep it up then. Can’t have you getting too comfortable, can we?”

As you walked back to Hogwarts, you could feel the weight of his jacket around your shoulders, and though you’d never admit it, the warmth was more than just physical. Despite the banter and the bickering, you couldn’t shake the flutter in your stomach. Barty Crouch Junior might drive you mad, but maybe—just maybe—there was something nice about having him around after all.

You arrive to Hogwarts and everyone makes their way to their common room, the boys to Slytherin´s, Pandora to Ravenclaw´s and you to Hufflepuff´s. You get into your dorm quietly, because even if it was a Friday night, your roomates were sleeping.

As you began to undress, you suddenly realized you still had Barty’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Great, you thought with an eye roll. Now I have to see him again. You sighed, folding it neatly and placing it in your wardrobe alongside your other clothes.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and change into your pajamas, you settled into bed. The comfort of your blankets enveloped you, but no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the memory of Barty's teasing grin lingered in your mind.

You hated that the last thought before sleep was that goddamn smirk of his—so infuriating yet somehow captivating. With a frustrated huff, you turned over, determined to banish thoughts of him, but the image of his charming arrogance persisted, a playful reminder of the night’s events.

You woke up the next day, the soft sunlight filtering through the windows of your dormitory. The quiet of the weekend morning was a welcome contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of school life. You moved through your routine slowly, knowing you had no classes to rush to today. After freshing up, you dressed casually and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You decided to take Barty´s jacket with you, so you could return it as soon as possible.

And thanks to Merlin, when you enter the Great Hall you immediately spotted him at the Slytherin table with his friends. You wave at your own friends and make them a signal to wait for you as you approached the green table, your friends staring at you like you had gone crazy.

“Junior” you call out softly from behind him.

Barty´s head whipped around, his grin widening when he saw you “Treasure!” his voice was full of amusement as he looked you up and down “Miss me alredy?”

You rolled your eyes and extended his jacket over him “Im here to return this, and to say thank you again” even if he was insufferable, you were always polite.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased by your words, as he took the jacket from you “You know, I was hoping you would keep it for longer. You did look amazing in it. Not that I didn’t like you in your top, of course”

You felt the heat increasing in your cheeks at his words but try to hide it with a scoff, your hands instinctively moving to fold your arms across your chest. “Whatever” you muttered, stepping back and already starting to turn away “Goodbye”

Some days later you were sitting with your friends in the courtyard, laughing as you discussed the latest mishap in Potions class, when you noticed a familiar figure making his way toward you. Barty Crouch Jr, in all his swagger, had that unmistakable smirk as he approached your small circle, his eyes already fixed on you.

"Treasure," he greeted smoothly, nodding to your friends before focusing entirely on you. "Got a minute?"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback that he’d be seeking you out in broad daylight, in front of witnesses no less. “Depends. What do you want, Junior?”

He chuckled, unfazed by your tone. "Pandora said you’re somewhat of an expert in Magical Creatures. Thought maybe you could help a struggling Slytherin with a few... basics.”

Your friends exchanged glances, one of them biting back a smile as they elbowed each other. You tried to ignore it, focusing on Barty. “Struggling?” you echoed, skeptical. “You’re one of the top students. Why do you need my help?”

He shrugged, managing to look both innocent and mischievous. “Call it an off week. I could use some extra guidance.”

One of your friends couldn’t resist chiming in, “Are you sure you don’t just want to copy her notes, Barty?”

“Oh, I’d love to copy,” he said, giving you a pointed look, “but I think I’d learn more if we… studied together. Say, this afternoon?”

“Fine,” you said, ignoring the snickers from your friends. “The library at six?”

“Or my room?” he suggested, not missing a beat. “Much quieter. Comfier too.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your friends burst into laughter. “Nice try. The library will do just fine.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning disappointment. “Heartbreaking, really. I was hoping for a more… private lesson.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for learning in public,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “See you at six, Junior.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his smirk widening.

With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving your friends barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, Merlin,” one of them said as soon as he was out of earshot, “did Barty Crouch Jr. just ask you for a tutoring session?”

You sighed, trying not to show the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “Apparently. And he’d better actually need help with Magical Creatures.”

But even as you turned back to your conversation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this “study session” was going to be anything but ordinary.

That evening, you made your way to the library with a stack of notes on magical creatures and a determination to focus—no matter how distracting your “student” might try to be. When you arrived, you saw Barty lounging at a back table, idly flipping through a book that looked suspiciously unrelated to magical creatures.

“Good, you’re here,” he said with a grin as you sat down. “I was starting to think you’d stand me up.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat in front of him “Almost did” you mumble under your breath as you opened your book and notes. The library was quiet as you huddled over a hefty tome on magical creatures, quills and parchment spread across the table between you. It seemed like he was genuinely focused—or at least, he pretended to be.

“Alright, Junior” you said, pointing to a section in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, “why don’t you tell me everything you know about hippogriffs?”

He gave you a thoughtful look, scratching his chin as if deep in concentration. “Hmm… majestic creatures, proud, can be very dangerous if approached incorrectly… does that sound right?”

You tilted your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you do know about them, after all. That’s a decent start.”

“Well, I have the basics,” he said with a little grin, “but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. That’s where you come in, Treasure.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, nudging the book closer to him. “Alright, fine. Hippogriffs are proud, but there’s more to them than that. They’re highly sensitive and require respect—bowing to them before approaching is essential.”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face, though you could tell he was amused. “Bowing. Got it. Sort of like dealing with you, isn’t it? Respect, admiration…”

You huffed, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself next time we have a test.”

“Anything but that,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “You’re far too charming when you’re lecturing me on magical creatures.”

You ignored him and went over a few more creatures, each time finding him surprisingly attentive. He asked questions—good ones, actually—and seemed engaged in a way you hadn’t expected. You started to think maybe he genuinely did want to learn more about the subject.

As the library began to empty, you glanced at the time. “We should probably get some dinner before the house-elves clear the tables,” you said, gathering your notes.

You started to walk to the Great Hall, still in conversation about the finer points of bowtruckles, when something slipped out from under his arm and fluttered to the ground. You instinctively bent down to pick it up, and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the parchment. It was an essay titled “The Lifecycle of Thestrals” with “A” scrawled at the top in red ink. The neat handwriting and the perfectly structured points left no doubt: Barty had known exactly what he was doing in Care of Magical Creatures all along.

You blinked, looking from the essay to Barty, who wore a guilty-but-unbothered grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Unbelievable. So you wasted my time?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Come on, can you really blame me?” His eyes held that familiar glint. “When Pandora mentioned you were the go-to expert on magical creatures, I knew I couldn’t miss the chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a few hours with someone as pretty as you, Treasure?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away, trying not to let him see how flustered you felt. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Unbelievably charming? I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as you approached the Great Hall. “I had a great time, by the way. Maybe next time, we can have a... more private study session.”

He threw you a wink before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table, leaving you standing there, cheeks flushed, speechless, and—if you were being honest with yourself—a bit confused. Because somehow, despite his insufferable arrogance, the idea of spending more time with him didn’t sound half as annoying as you’d expected.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Profound Pleasure of Little Things

Hozier x reader

Author's note: Basically the thought was, "ohh, what if there was a real moment that inspired Wasteland!baby."

Summary: Andrew and Y/n spend an afternoon at the beach.

Warnings - poorly written fluff, I guess.

"I think if the world ended right now, I'd be alright with that.”

After spending the past fifteen minutes or so bearing witness to her magnificence. Ireland's solem grey sky meeting the frigid, green water and acting as a cool toned backdrop to the brightness of her beauty. The way those deep, blue jeans hug her curves, the woolen burgundy coat, draped over a band tee, that follows the contour of her frame and her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stands a few feet off the edge, gaze cast out towards the horizon; as if the world below them had been thought up just for her.

As Y/n turns to face him, the wind whips her hair forward, and he smiles when she hastily brushes away from her eyes. “What?” She chortles, but there's an air of disbelief in the word and she tilts her head a little to the side, “why?”

Licking his lips, Andrew pushes off the boulder he's been perched on, one converse-clad foot planted on the ground while the other stayed propped on a smaller rock jutting from the lush grass. “Because,” he stuffs his hands into the side pockets of the denim jacket he's thrown over his red flannel, “I've seen you, standing here and that's gotta be the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Y/n rolls her eyes; he's awfully romantic when he doesn't mean to be – and mind-bogglingly terrible at it when he actively tries. Just that morning he'd clumsily danced them into the kitchen table after daring more than their usual sway. But now, after a long afternoon drive and an impromptu hike up a hill that overlooks the sea, he's stringing together the sort of lines that make her cheeks go warm and stirs a flutter in her chest. “You're being dramatic,” she teases, relinquishing her hand when he reaches for it. Their fingers lace with ease; it's something they're so used to doing that Y/n rarely thinks much of it anymore. It's such a small, mundane thing and his hands have become so familiar to her that they almost feel like her own – and like she'd miss her own hand if it were gone forever, she'd miss his too.

He is a part of her; as vital as a limb, or the thing beating in her chest.

“Hardly,” his thumb ghosts the soft skin over her knuckles, and his eyes soften when they meet hers. It still startles him that she's his, and standing there with the smell of salt, autumn and her perfume flooding his senses, Andrew fears he might be dreaming, “you look…..” Like a painting, something that one could only wish to be privileged enough to see, let alone touch, “exquisite.”

Y/n giggles before glancing down at herself. She knows she must look plain at best, and a wind-tousled mess at worst. Even if she isn't the self-deprecating type, it's tough to believe that she looks like anything special without makeup, her hair free-styled by the breeze and her face nipped by the chill. The coat that she's owned for nearly a decade and a faded t-shirt probably isn't helping her case either. “Are you trying to get laid on this hilltop?” She asks conspiringly.

Snaking his free arm around her waist, Andrew simultaneously pulls Y/n closer and throws his head back in laughter. Lifting her gaze to drink him in, Y/n’s smile softens; she loves the way he looks when he laughs like that. Entirely carefree, as if he mightn’t have anything in the world to worry about, its a laugh she sees most off when he’s been home for a while and he isn’t concerned about deadlines and appearances, or when they have friends over and he’s had a bit too much to drink. Or when she says something that is a little absurd, but not quite funny, and he somehow finds the world of humor in it.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed,” his fingers curl into her waist. Then, when the shaking of his shoulders settle, he lowers his eyes to meet hers. It always baffles him how she could not know – not completely – what she does to him. Because if she did, Y/n wouldn’t doubt his credibility for a second when he says that she’s beautiful – and utterly in awe of everything that she is. “But I really do think that you look lovely darling,” he adds softly, freeing his hand from hers to gently cup her face, “if you saw what I did, you’d understand. If you could see yourself through my eyes…….thought of yourself with my mind, you would get to know the most breathtaking person I've ever met.”

Licking her lips, Y/n lays her hands on his chest, thumb grazing the sliver of skin left exposed by the undone top button of his shirt. “How do you do that?” She muses quietly, gazing up at him.

Andrew's thumb roves the apple of her cheek and she leans into his touch, “Do what?” He lowers his head a little, so their foreheads are that much closer to touching.

“Come up with…..stuff,” she hates the word in the context, “like that.”

“Well, it would just so happen, that I have the best muse,” because every beautiful thing he can think of is tangled up with the thought of her. He can’t see flowers without wondering how they’d look if they were laced in her hair, or held in her hands, he sees art and wonders if she’d like it too and when he’s faced with a day like this one – where everything seems to be in perfect measure – all Andrew wants to do is share it with her.

“I am just so in love with you,” he rasps, the sudden drop in his voice sending a shiver up her spine, “that it touches every part me, everything I do has a bit of you in it,” as if all the old parts of himself have been shed, giving way to something new, improved in a way that only be because of her presence.

The more Andrew thinks about the clearer one certainty becomes; in a way, the world has already ended. It happened the second he fell in love with her. Everything as he knew it was changed forever – reduced to a wasteland, and out from the ashes she came.

Lifting one of her hands, Y/n caresses his temple with the pad of her thumb. “What a beautiful mind you have,” she muses, gaze matching his. Y/n always faults him for having a way with his words, usually when he doesn't even mean to, but Andrew doesn't think she ever pays enough mind to what she's saying. “Who needs the rest of the world when they have this?”

His thumb continues stroking her cheek in that languid, gentle fashion and Andrew’s gaze softens so much that he thinks he must be melting under her touch. He must be putty in her hands – so easy to mold however she pleases, because the only thing he wants more than being with her is being exactly what Y/n needs.

May he always be a necessity, may her life be just a touch emptier without him, so she’ll keep him around.

“Who needs it, darling?” Who needs it when the best of it smiles when she looks at me? He’s just about to press his lips to hers in a kiss he’s been aching to steal since the moment she turned to look at him, when a wave – way down below – breaks so violently that a few droplets hit their faces, causing Y/n to shift her gaze towards the expanse of glacial teal.

“We should walk down to the beach,” she suggests suddenly, eyes alight with the wonder of someone yearning for the thrill of adventure. In an instant, Y/n is backing out of his embrace – like a dream just past his immediate reach. She takes his hand though, lacing her smaller, finer fingers with his and practically tugs him along, urging him towards the mouth of the stoney, sloped pathway that leads to the beach.

“Yeah, sure-” Andrew doesn’t even get to reply before he’s stumbling along, blindly following her. He isn’t even sure if she actually knows the way – he’s never taken her there, but Y/n is quick-witted enough to figure things out without anyone’s help. As he watches her trot ahead with purpose, feet clad in Chuck Taylor's stomping on the feathery grass as she moves ahead, Andrew keeps his gaze fixed on her. The way she holds her head up, as if she doesn’t need a map – or even him – to show her the way. The way the wind blows her hair and her delicate fingers work to keep them away from her eyes. She’s moving so quickly that its hard to take it all in, and Andrew finds himself wanting to ask her to slow down, so he can soak up the way she looks against the blur of the trees.

Sometimes, he wants to tell her – beg her – to just be a bit more still. Because while he adores watching her move, drinking in every miniscule action that is so specific to her, Andrew breathes for the moments where there isn’t the slightest quiver in her form. When his view of her is entirely unhampered by the demands of life; she doesn’t have to get up to answer her phone, or check on the laundry downstairs – when she’s just lounging in bed with her glasses propped on the bridge of her nose and a book held up in front of her face, when she’s sitting on the back patio while nursing an afternoon tea, watching the birds entertain each other.

When Y/n is standing before him, surrounded by a tapestry of greens and blues and other specks of colour that pale in her wake, like something he should never be so privileged to bare witness to.

His thoughts are interrupted when she stumbles on a rock and instinctively deserts her hand in favor of reaching for her hips. “Slow down,” he chuckles, reeling her close to his chest, one arm wrapping around her middle as they continue downward.

“But I wanna see the beach,” she protests with a giggle as his lips find her cheek. Reaching past herself, she lays her hand on his neck, holding his face close to hers for a few seconds longer.

“And you will,” Andrew mumbles, mouth still pressed up to her face, “but lets……enjoy the getting there too.”

“I think you’re enjoying it a little too much,” Y/n admonishes humorously when Andrew squeezes her to him.

“Impossible,” he bends his head to nuzzle the side of her face, “I actually think you’re not enjoying this enough.”

“Yeah?” She leans into his embrace, hand falling onto his forearm as she finally relents to stopping for a moment. She can hear the sounds of the sea a bit more clearly now, and the air is saltier than it had been when they were up on the hill. Through the foliage, Y/n spots bits of jewel toned ripples, a tell-tale sign that they aren’t too far off, and she’s actively holding herself back from urging him ahead. She does have a habit of rushing things, sometimes the need to just keep moving is almost overwhelming; she’s so focused on getting somewhere that she forgets the journey is half the experience.

Andrew, she often finds, is entirely the opposite. It's a quality she admires in him; his ability to revel in simple joys, the way he’s able to steady himself enough to thoroughly take everything in. While she’s eager to brush past everything in her way to get to her finish line, he’s perfectly fine with strolling through the trees, stopping ever so often to take pictures of things that interest him, or rattle off a random fact that he learned in a nature documentary.

“Yes,” Andrew hisses, kissing the corner of her lips, “just relax a little.”

“I’m very relaxed,” Y/n scoffed defensively, “we just have different definitions of that word.”

Andrew laughs loudly, finally letting her go and allowing her to take his hand again, “I’m not even sure that word is in your dictionary,” he chortles as she tows him along. Y/n doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know if she hears him, because as the words leave his mouth, they reach the edge of the woods which opens up to the small beach. The sand is soft under his shoes, and the sting of salty air is sharp. “Happy now?” He teases when she lets his hand go in favor of going a few paces ahead.

“I was always happy,” Y/n corrects, “but now I'm…..satisfied.”

“If satisfaction is what you were looking for, I could've helped with that up there,” he nudges his head towards the top of the hill they’d been standing on about fifteen minutes earlier.

Y/n rolls her eyes as she turns to look at him, “oh shut up,” she giggles.

“Just sayin’,” he hums, moving to stand beside her, arm going around her shoulders. Immediately, Y/n tilts her head so its touching his side.

As she keeps her eyes trained forward, Y/n hums, “its so beautiful.”

Andrew returns the sound, albeit just a bit softer as he turns his head to look down at her, nestled against him. Its hard to describe just how much he enjoys the feeling of her tucked against him, its one of those simple pleasures that he never fails to appreciate; the way her form fits perfectly with his, like they were made to just click together. It's such a small thing; the comfort that comes with holding someone who wouldn’t trade the feeling of your arms around them for anything else in the world, and he can never seem to get enough of it. He lives for the way throwing his arm around her shoulder has become as natural to him as breathing, and how instinctive it is when she leans against him.

“Don’t you think so?” Y/n glances up at him, a smile dusting her cheeks when their eyes meet. There's always a little tingle that prods at her heart when she finds him looking at her, like the beat of butterfly wings against the petal of a flower.

Licking his lips, he glances forward at the ocean stretched out before then, and the near vacant beach that spreads out for at least a mile on either side.

He must’ve seen this beach near a hundred times by now. Andrew is well aquainted with the way the waves break against the collection of jagged rocks piled against once side of the shore, foam washing the salt-worn gray and seeping into the crevices. The crunch of pebbles and broken seashells under his boot isn’t foreign to him, and he knows all too well how frigid those waters can be around this time of the year. He’s seen the beauty of the place, he swears he’s done his best to appreciate it too, but there’s something different about holding her as the water pulls the sand seaward and salty sprinkles dust their lips. It feels like he’s seeing for the first time all over again.

And he loves it – all of it. The way it feels like a film has been peeled off his eyes, the thrill of enjoying the simplest things so much more than he ever has because he's sharing the moment with her.

“Yeah,” he looks at her again, lowering his head to touch the tips of their noses, “its beautiful, baby.”

[xtarmanderx]

I don’t ever post things like this here because this is primarily my writing side blog, but it feels too important not to say something.

I started writing 9-1-1 fics for the Buddie fandom and for a friend who was near and dear to me. I quickly left the fandom because of the mods for an event that I was participating in and how awful they were to one of my best friends that joined the event with me. That completely killed my desire to interact with the Buddie fandom at all and I don’t know if I will ever finish posting the fic that I poured my heart into for said event. Because that fic is fully done, but those encounters with those fans made me never want to write Buddie again.

And then Tommy Kinard came along.

And holy fuck, I fell in love with him so fast. I immediately rewatched the show after he reappeared in season 7 because I was so fascinated with his character. And then I fell in love with Lou Ferrigno Jr. and began watching S.W.A.T. just to get glimpses of him and I grew to love that show and its characters, too. And I read his interviews and saw how happy he was to be back on the show and it made me happy, too.

Then I saw all the hate and negativity.

It filled me with so much anger and I blocked so many people across so many different forms of social media so I no longer had to see it. All I wanted was to surround myself with positivity.

Because I’ve been that bitch.

There are people no longer in certain fandoms because of me and I’ll never be able to apologize enough for the ways that I hurt them. Sorry will never be enough to mend those bridges that I poured kerosene on.

It’s why I’ve stayed in my corner and all of my fic comments have been generic, which isn’t who I used to be. I used to engage and leave long comments, but honestly I’ve been terrified to try and join any new community. Because I am fucking terrified of reverting back to the person I never want to be again.

My best friend started watching the show again after I went to his house for dinner and had him watch the BuckTommy kiss episode with me. The last five minutes of that episode, I told him to put his phone down and pay full attention and he was completely engaged and was so happy to see another queer couple onscreen. It gave us something else to bond over every week as we would watch and text about what was happening.

Tonight’s text:

This coming from a gay man who does not engage in fandom spaces at all and who felt blindsided, too. Like so many of us did.

I immediately started writing a fix it fic because that’s who I am. I want to write the endings I want to see. And then I stopped writing and sent Lou a message directly because I needed to get something off my chest.

I was raised in a broken home. Raised by racists who belittled me endlessly and have told me within the last couple of years that I am their least favorite child. I am the youngest of 6. That shit was heartbreaking. It’s a wound that will never heal. But why am I bringing it up? Why does that matter?

Because I saw myself in Tommy. I saw a character who represented the worst parts of my youth, who spouted hateful things my parents taught me to say and then spent years having to unlearn those things. Lou talked about his own ideas about Tommy’s past and it struck so close to home for me. Because Tommy showed he was capable of change. And I did, too. It took therapy and years of reflection and being hyperaware now of the shit I say and having to constantly stay on top of my own thoughts and correct them.

I have been dating a woman of color for the last 9.5 years and she’s the love of my life. She has been there through every stumble and stayed even when my passive aggressive inclinations got the better of me. And I saw so much of myself reflected in Tommy Kinard’s character and Lou’s portrayal of him and saw our relationship in Buck and Tommy, too.

Tonight hit me so much harder than expected. And this probably seems like a jumbled mess of thoughts, which it is, but I needed to get some things off my chest and out into the world.

This is not the week that so many of us were expecting. This hurt. We’re allowed to be upset and need time to process. I sure as hell do.

But I do want to say a heartfelt thank you to anyone who has brought joy and friendship to this fandom. The fics that have been written are amazing and the art has been fantastic. I’ve seen some people make lifelong friends in the past few months thanks to this. It sure as hell strengthened some of mine.

So, if you need a friend right now, know that I’m here. I’ve been subdued for a while, but I refuse to lose out on more joy in my life. Not when we all desperately need it. So I’m here for you.

And please remember to be kind. Don’t let anyone take that superpower away from you.

[skz-elle]

kacii told me to post this and it’s her fault i was throttled by the thought of Hongjoong studio sex so…

inspo: bestie @kaciidubs ✨🎀

hongjoong x fem!reader

fluff, unregulated romantic fluff, slight nsfw (mentioned orgasms but no descriptions), unedited except for the one thing i saw i misspelled

His headphones are around your neck, where he had you come closer to hear a part of a song. Just moments ago, you had been standing in front of him with your eyes closed, nodding to the beat, carefully listening to the small details because he asked you for your opinion and you knew he meant “critique”.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was enraptured. Enamored with the way your face was softly lit by his keyboard. Infatuated with your hands gently holding the speakers to your ears and how your fingers poked out of the sleeves of his hoodie, which he had just pulled over your head at the first hint you were chilly.

That’s why he wrote songs for you. About you. About how he felt towards you. About how the world was you and him and nothing else whenever you were here.

He can’t wait for you to finish listening. He tries, and he wants to, but he physically can’t wait. His body craves your touch and it is the one thing he allows himself to indulge in without hesitation. His hands slide over your waist and he softly tugs to get your attention.

He’s in love with the way you don’t even open your eyes to check, you just trust him to guide you down into his lap. You sink into him like you were meant to be together this way. Like you were two pieces of a whole, like magnets drawn together. It’s graceful and gentle but intoxicatingly powerful in its own softness. He can’t resist. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t want to ever get enough. Being on the verge, always reaching for more, is too pleasant a chase for him to ever stop running towards it.

You’re still listening to the song when his lips slot together with yours.

You keep listening, even as he becomes more insistent, tilting your head this way and that to get the right angle. He has to make you feel his love. He wants it so deeply it aches.

You’re still listening even when his hands burrow under his hoodie, under your shirt, under your bra. His fingertips whisper their way across your skin, on paths he’s memorized long ago but will never tire of traversing.

You keep listening even when the song has ended, just to see how far he’ll go and how desperate he’ll get before he realizes. He’s addictive like this, strung out on wanting you and finally — blessedly — allowing himself pleasure in emotion just for the sake of it.

The joke is on you, though — as long as you let him, he won’t notice it’s been ten minutes instead of ten seconds.

He’d keep going for an eternity and time wouldn’t pass at all, so long as it’s you and him locked away in this little world.

You push the headphones off yourself to maneuver his hands into your hair, and that’s when he blinks back to reality for the briefest moment.

You think he’s going to speak, but he just gives you a dazed look — lips parted and shiny, breathless, cheeks pink, and eyes glossy — before he dives back in.

That’s eventually how Seonghwa finds the two of you, just a bit later. You’re asleep in Hongjoong’s chair, tangled together in what has to be an uncomfortable position, but it’s nothing new. Seonghwa always finds you like this after a particularly good orgasm or several.

Hongjoong has a tendency to rip the most mind-numbing climaxes out of you, before you both doze off just long enough to recover before waking like you’ve had a full night of sleep. heavy limbs, sore muscles, everything that comes with a comatose nap, except — Hongjoong would do it all again for even just half a second of the look you give him when he mumbles “I love you” into your skin at the joint of your neck and shoulder, and you return it with an “I know, my love.”

‘My love’, he thinks — and that’s right. Your love. He’s yours. Forever.

[msheadcannons]

blind date

sydney lohmann x reader headcannons

its early 2022, and you’ve never had the best experience with dating. 

for a long time, you thought your type were girls who didn’t play football at all. 

it took two failed relationships, and a failed “situationship” to figure out that maybe you needed to be with someone who understood your career

your lyon teammates noticed the pain you’ve had with dating. one day, you’d show up to training in the happiest mood, the next– you looked like the life was drained out of you. 

after a few failed dates, sara, your german teammate, casually sits beside you on the training ground benches as you’re taking a sip of water. 

“hey, i know someone you’d probably hit it off with.” 

you look at her with a curious look

“what do you mean?” 

sara plays it cool, “there’s someone i know who has been having a hard time with dating as well. luckily, she’s a footballer as well, and you both have similar personalities so i think you will hit it off.” 

she made it seem like it’s a no-big-deal kind of thing. you can tell by her smirk that she’s been plotting this. 

when you ask for details about the footballer. is she a lyon teammate too? is it someone from sara’s last club, PSG?? 

“you’ll find out. she’s amazing and kind, trust me,” 

you shrug your shoulders in defeat when she walks off before you can ask more questions.

as the day of the date gets closer, sara gives you a few hints, 

“she’s funny, a bit of a prankster, and really, really good on the field. besides, you will like how she came to lyon from where she is from for this!” 

that last part intrigues you because you can tell sara has chosen someone special and considerate.

you decide to get there a little early, wanting to make a good impression. 

as you walk in, you can’t help but scan the room, curious if she’s already there. finally, you settle into your table, glancing at the entrance every few minutes, wondering if you’ll recognize her right away or if it’ll be one of those awkward “are you…?” situations.

when sydney walks in, she immediately catches your eye. you should’ve guessed that it could’ve been someone from sara’s national team.

syd has an easygoing look as she looks around the restaurant, and you notice her eyes light up when she spots you, sara’s lyon teammate. 

she strides over, confidence mixed with a little shyness that makes her even more endearing, and introduces herself, giving you a quick hug as if you’re already friends.

 there’s a moment of silence when you both sit down, both of you a little nervous and unsure where to start. sydney breaks it first, 

“so, sara was pretty cryptic about this whole thing. all i know is you’re from lyon, and that apparently, you’re supposed to be cool.” 

you both laugh, and the tension starts to ease.

it doesn’t take long before the conversation turns to football, with sydney asking about your experience at lyon and sharing stories from bayern. you ask her questions about balancing football and uni when sydney mentioned that she is a university student.

as the evening goes on, sydney’s teasing side starts to show. 

she nudges you and says, “you know, i heard a rumor about lyon players,” 

“what rumors?”

“you guys take things way too seriously.” 

you pretend to be offended, which makes her laugh, and soon you’re both in a back-and-forth, her teasing matched by your mock defensive responses.

“well you’re german, and you guys take things seriously the most!” you laugh. 

 as you talk more, you realize there’s a lot you have in common outside of football — like your love for traveling and cooking. 

when the food arrives at the table, you both fall into a comfortable silence, and it’s in that quiet moment you realize how much you’re actually enjoying her company. there’s no need to fill every second with words. 

at one point, sydney blurts out, “you’re way more down-to-earth than i expected.” she freezes, cheeks going a bit pink as she realizes how it sounded. 

you laugh and ask, “and what were you expecting?”

“i don’t know, i was expecting a beautiful and tactical footballer like yourself to be a bit–”

you and sydney laugh as she tried to find the word she is looking for,

“well, i like to keep myself nice and humble.” 

naturally, the conversation drifts back to sara. 

at one point, sydney leans in, saying, “between us, i think sara set this up because she was tired of hearing us both complain about dating.” 

you both laugh, knowing that is the truth.

“oh i know– i just can’t believe you came to lyon just for this.” 

obviously, the night has to end at some point. when you step outside, there’s a lingering moment as you both stand there, neither of you really wanting to say goodbye. 

sydney, looking a bit nervous, says, “so… this was fun. maybe we could do it again?”

you nod, smiling, and she adds, “we should, next time let me come to munich to see you. i’ll let sara know she’s earned a ‘thank you’ from us.”

you got sydney’s number during the dinner.

sydney sends a text later before you’re about to go to sleep.

“you didn’t make lyon players look too bad tonight.” 

you respond, “glad to hear it. you weren’t half bad yourself, miss bayern.”

[deeplyobsessed]

ok so i’m gonna ramble in sections

section 1: cgi moustache

FUCKING HILARIOUS like it was so bad it was funny HELP also buck’s hair was season 8 hair too it’s so funny like WHY did they reuse this HAHA

section 2: confession part 1

as short of a scene as it was, this was really nicely shot imo. and the tears in eddie’s eyes when he spoke like RYAN GUZMAN UR SO GOOD. but also how does buck (best friend) rank about girlfriend like hmmmmmmm

section 3: FUCKING ABBY

I CLOCKED IT I KNEW IT i know we always joke about 911 having continuity issues but THIS was such a good way to call back season 1 like insane writing tim minear and i love u for it

section 4: the divorce call

i wish they did more with this call like there was potential to call back to eddie/shannon but they didn’t. other than that i think honestly this is one of the grossest calls they’ve ever been on like genuinely icked the hell out of me with the guts like ugh gross

section 5: josh’s speech

as much as people hate on tommy, i do think josh’s explanation of things does give some sort of context to the way tommy acted in the past. like yeah racism and sexism is bad don’t get me wrong, but tommy did make an effort to change. it’s just that with society and his own work place back then, tommy prob had a lot of internalised homophobia that he expressed negatively outward to others (chim and hen in particular). but josh made a very good point with his speech about pre glee and post glee world (great reference, 10/10) and i think this was one of my favourite parts of this episode

section 6: confession part 2

ok first of all there was literally NO NEED to add that “im straight” “im celibate” part. like that was intentionally written into the script for something bcos that entire section could have been done without the sexuality mention. tim minear i see you. other than that FATHER BRIAN YOU ARE SPEAKING FACTS. my fav line he said was “but we can’t take care of others if we don’t first take care of ourselves”. bcos this is true!! and also a line used in therapy a lot cough. anyway i think the conversation eddie had with the priest was like a wake up call to eddie to start getting his head out of his ass and start working towards something. love this scene 10/10

section 7: brothers and pipes

most of this call was focused on the brothers part more than the well scene call back, tho there was a throw away line from bobby to eddie about how (eddie) wouldn’t fit this time. i do wonder if this happened irl would fire departments legally be authorised to allow children to help with rescues tho. otherwise honestly this was a very cute scene that helped chim get some introspection. i do wish there was more of a well scene call back tho :(

section 8: buck tommy breakup

as a buddie fan, i am overjoyed. but as a buck fan, i am devastated. tommy is actually one of my favourite love interests for buck, and its not just because he’s a dude and sexual awakening all that. i genuinely do think buck and tommy could have had a lot of potential if the show had decided to go through with it, but at the same time ending it here was also a relatively good note. i think in this relationship it wasn’t actually buck who wasn’t ready, it was tommy. tommy is afraid of things not working out in the long run bcos he doesn’t believe in buck’s affection for him being long term. this whole breakup was bcos tommy wasn’t ready imo. i do see the point tommy was trying to make but i also think it was a bit of a dick move to do the whole breakup immediately after buck asked tommy to move in with him. like the timing could have been better tommy. tommy being the one who decided to end things did surprise me tho. but now i feel really sad for buck bcos buck did like tommy a lot, and also as a queer person your first queer relationship is always going to mean a lot to you

section 9: MADNEY MADNEY MADNEY

HOLY MOTHER OF- i didn’t see this coming i didn’t but i am so here for it. the amount of trust and communication between chim and maddie is literal relationship GOALS like they lay out the boundaries and have healthy discussions about having another kid and it’s just so UGHHHH I LOVE YOU also maddie already being pregnant FJSJCKSK MORE BABIES

section 10: eddie, the moustache, and the dance

this. was. everything. the significance of shaving off the moustache. the dancing at the end?? no pants too was a choice. like when eddie flops back onto the couch and you see his smile, it’s like you truly see him deciding to finally forgive himself. maybe not completely, because there’s always going to be some guilt he carries around, but he’s moving forward and i’m so, so happy for him. it’s just a fun goofy feel good scene and i love love love this.

special mention: buddie and the couch

i actually think this is the first time both of them are on the couch together. like sitting next to each other with no one else. RETURN OF THE COUCH THEORY WELCOME BACK. ok but the ending scene?? the way they don’t even need words to communicate like- buck not even bothering to question why eddie doesn’t have pants, and eddie not even questioning why buck is here with beer in the first place. the level of mutual understanding has my HEART IN PIECES

overall this is honestly my fav ep this season and one of my fav eps of all time. i can’t wait to see how the story moves on from here ahhhhhhh

[blucactus112]

May never come to reality but im planning out a Animatic to AJR's 'Maybe Man' (sue me) and need some help filling in some of the parts.

(Its probably going to be about all the life series in general not specifically Wild life. but feel free to try it fit it all in one series)

!!!long post incoming!!!

General plan so far:

First Half(ish) will be calmly looking at hermits in their peaceful habitats talking about their insecurities.

Finishing the first half when we get to the god part it will be Grian before life series started pleading to watchers and becoming one himself then cutting to him and all the other lifers standing around in a circle (like the start of each series) (much wow)

ONE. TWO. PANDEMONIUM.

murder, just all of the scenes of people dying biggest polt twist, betrayals, and Amount of kills.

Also specifically a close up of grain seeing the server burning in the reflection of his eyes.

ending with another shot of the beginning of a server but we see grains eyes which are weathered and worn out and maybe has some watcher purple

Specific Lines:

Wish I was a stone, so I couldn't feel You'd yell in my face, it'd be no big deal But I'd miss the way we make up and smile Don't want to be stone, I changed my mind

Im thinking scar and Grian Desert Duo? also could be

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head Then I could see the places I've been But then I would know that you're talkin' shit I don't wanna know what my friends think

This im Deff thinking cleo bigb scott and lizzie from the Boogeyman series (i forgor wich one that is)

but open to other ideas

Wish I were my dog out on the lawn I'd be so glad when I hear you come home But if I were my dog, I wouldn't live long I'm sure gonna miss her when she's gone

This is pearl playing with a dog, you cannot fucking make me change my mind

I wish I could act in a show on TV 'Cause then I could practice not bein' me I'll practice my cry, put it into my reel But you won't believe me when I cry for real

im either thinking like Ren or Martyn because of the acting thing or one of the scenes usually portrayed as lots of crying (ie Scott at the end of double life)

I wish that my brain would triple in size I'd nail every joke, I'd win every fight But I'd get too deep with that kind of mind I don't wanna know the point of life

ive been thinking of this as jimmy in general but also i dont want to be mean so other ideas would be great

In some other life I would be rich I'd travel in style, I'd cover the bill But couldn't complain 'bout anything small Nobody'd feel bad for me at all

havent given much thought for ones after this but im thinking Scar on Magic mountain trying to scam everyone?

If I was cocaine or a bottle of Jack I'd get invited to every frat But when you get old and your good days have passed You'll only want me when you're sad

have there been any people that bounce between alliances during one series?

Wish I was a song, your favorite one You'd follow the dance to me at your prom I would be there when your baby is born For two or three minutes, then I'm gone

there was at least one dande floor that was a trap, right??

I wish I was big, as big as my house I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch God, I could really use him now

probably ep1 of WildLife

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up And if I did, well, so fuckin' what? I could be cruel and break all your stuff Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

pov grain angst

grain is on super windy mountain top surrounded by watchers crying, pleading to them

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird 'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear And then you would die, you'd love me to death I never know who the hell I am

grian is surrounded by purple light wings and eyes becoming at least in part, a watcher

I wish I was me, whoever that is I could just be and not give a shit Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan 'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

cut to peaceful tranquil plains, all of them jn a circle at beginning of life series laughing joking shaking hands hugging (set em up for emotional damage)

One, two, pandemonium

black, black, PAN DE MONIUM

cut to destruction of server only using reds browns and blacks showing carnage this series has brought (and yes ofc player has died messages will appear in the corner as if in chat)

One, two, pandemonium

im thinking each line will be each of the series in chronological order

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

One, two-

Here I go again

cut to beginning of ?wild life? they all have scars when their final kills have been, some look tired some look determined

if you end up making this animatic if you want to put me in the credits as like 'inspired by' :3 but honestly idc that much. but you HAVE to tell me if you post one bc i will watch the hell out of that

#god i need more tags