#its 1am so its hard to think well

[0rchidm4ntis]

I was born something/What could I be?

[phagodyke]

istg one of these days.......

[exopelagic]

tragic: the one time he’s actually queer he has a girlfriend

[dearlyjun]

5% tint ☆ c. yeonjun

☆ PAIRING: sugardaddy!yeonjun x collegestudent!reader (f)

☆ GENRE: smut (18+ readers only! dont make me block you)

☆ SUMMARY: you didn't think that doing well on an exam would mean that you would be fucked in the front seat of a porsche; good thing your sugar daddy has 5% tint.

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

☆ WARNINGS: gendered terms are used (girl), semi public sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of praise from yeonjun, yeonjun drives a porsche (I think its a valid warning), yeonjun is wearing rings, making out, creampie kink perhaps?, dirty talk, obviously car sex!! lmk if i forgot anything its almost 1am and im an old lady.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: so heres part of the concept that I literally could not stop yapping about if I tried. combining my interests here: a hot man taking care of me and a porsche of my dreams. I am actually considering making this a series, with a backstory and everythingg so lmk your thots :)

a big thank you to @silvergyus @nightlyawnzz @hearts4huening for being my beta readers for this, and I may use your services in the future.

CLICK HERE TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!

walking to the front of your lecture hall, you collected the results from your latest exam. After finding your name in the pile of papers, you could barely contain your excitement when you saw the boldly printed 100% on the front.

Yeonjun would be so happy.

You quickly walked back to collect your things, before pulling out your phone to text him since he was picking you up from class.

you: going to be walking out in a few. I have good results!!

yeonjun: ahh my smart girl. I'm waiting for you out front.

Soon after you walked out through the double doors of the building that you were in, spotting Yeonjun’s gray Porsche parked up front.

Yeonjun had a pretty dark window tint, so you couldn’t see inside that well. You opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat; Yeonjun beaming.

“There’s my girl.” He had the biggest smile on his face. “Look at you, dressed all cute.” He was referencing your plaid skirt and big crewneck sweatshirt that was actually his.

“Did you just come from the office or something?” You asked him, leaning in to kiss him. “You look so nice.” You smoothed your hand over his button down dress shirt, making him smirk.

“Now let me see this test, huh?”

“Okay.” You quickly dug the scantron out of your folder that you had. Handing it over to Yeonjun, leaning over his center console as he examined it.

He was smirking.

“Yeah, one hundred percent.” You spoke with a huge smile on your face.

“Ah, see I knew you’d do well.” Yeonjun put his hand onto your jaw to kiss you.

You hummed against his mouth, pulling him closer by his shirt. “I missed you last night, daddy.” You kissed him again.

Yeonjun smirked against your lips before pulling away slightly. “Yeah? You know I want you to focus on your school too.”

“I know, but sometimes it’s easier to study when I’m sitting on your lap. You know?” You reached down to feel Yeonjun’s cock, which to your surprise was half erect.

“With my cock inside of you? Princess, you know you can’t focus.”

You remembered the time you swore that you would sit still and study on Yeonjun’s lap while he worked. You didn’t last five minutes before you were fucking yourself on his cock.

You pouted as Yeonjun moved to kiss you towards your neck. “But I’m such a good girl for you, Daddy.”

Yeonjun practically choked back a moan; if his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely was now. “And I always reward you, don’t I?”

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, then went to unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. You let out an audible noise when he finally lowered his underwear, leaky, pretty cock out on full display.

“Go ahead and sit on it, pretty girl.” Yeonjun spoke, shuddering slightly when he swiped the tip with his thumb.

You felt a sudden tinge of shyness when you took off your shoes. Yeonjun could practically read your mind.

“The tints are too dark; no one can see you.”

“Okay, help me.” You answered, slightly laughing at the fact that you were going to climb over the console of a car that cost as much as your parents' house.

“I got you.” Yeonjun held onto you. Before you sat down on him, he pulled the fabric of your underwear out of the way.

“Oh my- fuck, you’re so wet.” Yeonjun gasped. “I’ll slip right fucking in.”

You lowered yourself onto him, and it was painfully slow; making you feel every inch of his cock.

Yeonjun was seconds away from ruining his leather with his fingernails with the way that he was gripping onto the passenger seat.

“Daddy…your cock. Fuck.” You sighed, dropping your head into his neck; taking a breath of his sweet cologne. He was fully inside of you, nuzzled up into that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Yeah, baby I know.” His hands were roaming your thighs and ass. Your underwear was cutting into you, but you couldn’t care less.

You slowly started to grind onto him, trying to find a rhythm in the limited space that you had. Yeonjun looked ahead, subtly watching if anyone walked by his car.

“You look so pretty, you know.” He spoke into your ear. “My dick inside of you in the front seat of my Porsche.” He suddenly gripped onto your hips, fucking you onto his cock.

“You’re my good girl, you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer, just let out a whimper of a moan.

“Repeat it back to me, baby.” His grip was so tight you thought his rings were going to make marks in your skin.

“I’m your…good girl.” You nearly choked on your words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Yeonjun could already tell by the way that you were clenching around him, and he probably wasn’t going to last much longer himself.

Yeonjun turned your face to look at him in one quick movement. “Yeah? I’m so fucking deep in you aren’t I?” His voice was low; you knew what he was doing.

The sounds of your cunt were obscene; Yeonjun loved every second of it. He studied your face as he angled your hips differently, cockhead hitting so deep that your jaw fell slack.

You’ve never looked so pretty to him. Honors student studying biology. Probably going to end up being a doctor. He knew you’d be decorated in cords at your graduation. But now, he was hitting so deep you couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Letting out a rather loud whine when your orgasm finally hit you, Yeonjun kissed you, shushing you. After all, his car only had a tint; not soundproofing.

“Cum in me. Please, daddy.” You were nearly delirious, whimpering expletives. Yeonjun knew you were actually being serious, because you always begged him to. “That’s my reward, right?”

And how could he say no? Not when you were whining, begging as you pulled on his necklace to kiss him.

“You can take it all?” He asked. Stupid question. You always could, even if he had to fuck it back into you.

You eagerly nodded, lips jutting out to a pout before you kissed him again.

“God you drive me fucking insane.” Yeonjun’s last words before letting go of his orgasm that he was trying to hang onto. “You feel so fucking good.”

The fact that he was probably making a mess out of his seat was sent to the back of his mind. He’d deal with that later, because the moan that you let out made it all worth it.

“Fuck.” He was panting. “You have to be quiet.” Grinding his hips with yours; his cock was still inside of you making you slightly wince at how messy everything felt.

“Shit.” You muttered, looking down at where the two of your bodies connected.

“Yeah, I made a fuckin mess.” Yeonjun jokes, his hands roaming your thighs. “We should probably go back to my place….” His voice trailed off like it was a question.

“Hmm?” You were confused. “I thought you texted me earlier that you wanted to go to the Prada store, no?”

“Yes…” Yeonjun bit down on his bottom lip, smirking. “But I don’t think I'm finished with you yet.”

☆ TAGS: @mhasimp666 @yunsbby @sikkkko

(strike through indicates I am unable to tag, please make sure your tagging feature is turned on!)

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[m4y4wasnthere]

dont be shy..

dallas x shy!reader

fic request here

warnings: holy smutt; plot is a-okay, mainly focused on establishing relationships; mention of alcohol/smoking; cursing (its dallas.)

a/n: thank u sm for the love on the last one!! this one is super cute but steamy; i think i also mightve made this one more awkward then shy, i honestly wanna rewrite this SO BADDD

not proofread

summary: of course when dallas winston finds out that the shy girl has a crush on him, it boosts the hell out of his ego. whats so wrong with him going over and having some fun teasing you about it? …until he realizes he wants more than just teasing 🌝

Dallas walks into Buck’s bar for a little get-together with the gang, not knowing they were gossiping about you.

“Oh god the puppy eyes she has for him, don’t get me started on how obvious it is.” Two-bit chuckles along with Sodapop.

“Who has puppy eyes for who?” Dallas sits next to Johnny on the other side of the table. The rest of the gang eye each other. (side eye typa way 👁️)

“You can’t be serious Dal..” Pony says slowly, a smirk slowly coming to his face. “Since when am I not serious?……..don’t answer that.” Dallas lights a cigarette and brings it to his mouth.

“Its-“ Two-bits mouth gets covered by Steve. “C’mon, why can’t I know? You guys are making me soo sad.” Dallas mocks a fake tear coming down with his finger.

“It's Y/n.” Sodapop blurts, Two-bit elbows him, and Darry facepalms, “God Soda, don’t you ever know when to keep your smart mouth shut?”

“I just couldn't keep it a secret. We all thought you knew Dally, I mean, it's painfully obvious.” Sodapop took a swing of his drink while Darry started scolding him under his breath.

“Obvious? Am I missin’ somethin’? What makes it ‘that’ obvious?” Dallas puts out his cigarette, and the gang knows he puts out an unfinished cigarette whenever he is serious. His brows furrowed as he stared hard into their eyes.

“Dal she always asks about you and she always tries to hang out with you. Do you not see the way she looks at you? She might as well be a lost puppy or somethin’ ” Johnny fidgets with a card in his hand, not looking at Dally.

“Wow Johnny-cake, even you?” Dallas scoffs, “Anything else I should know?” He puts his legs up on the table.

“Why don’t you just go ask her? If your sooo curious.” Two-Bit says sarcastically. Dallas lights a new cigarette and walks out without saying anything else.

・❥・

It was almost 1am when you heard a knock on your window. You groggily opened your eyes, rubbing them. Another set of tiny knocks went off at your window.

You got up, and the only thing you were wearing was an oversized tshirt with a shoulder cut. When you got to the window, you almost screamed.

You opened it, cursing under your breath.

“Dallas Winston, what in Irene's name are you doing here? God, I thought you were a random guy or stalker!” He climbed inside your room while you closed it slightly.

Then it suddenly hit you, Dallas Winston was inside your bedroom. Your cheeks flushed red. (thank god the lights are off)

“Do you want me to be a stalker? I can, if that's what you’re into doll.” Dallas slyly smirked as he occupied himself in your bed. You sat on the edge of the bed, not completely next to him.

“I don’t bite, c’mere.” Dallas pats next to him. You scooch a bit closer stiffly, but not at all close.

“So- um, what’re you doing here Dal..?” You stutter through your words, the situation's absurdity finally growing upon you as you become more awake.

“Jus’ hangin’ out, tell me abt ur day first.” Dallas turns to face you, removing his jacket and throwing it to the floor.

“Oh- uh-,” you found it completely inconvenient that you forgot what you did the whole day just because he looked at you a few seconds longer than the last.

You looked away from him and onto the floor, your closet, anything to keep yourself from looking at him any longer.

“My day was uh fine. I uhm went out to Buck’s earlier, uhm, oh I also was with the gang..” Every time you spoke, your voice trembled and your hands fidgeted with the end of your shirt. Dallas never looked away from you as you spoke. His gaze lingered over you, leaving you an embarrassingly shy blush-y mess.

You looked at him for a response but immediately looked away again, not expecting him to be staring at you so intently.

“Keep talking, I like your voice doll.” He scooches onto the bed fully and lays down, propping his feet up.

“Oh uh, okay..,” You mentally facepalmed. You weren’t cool at all around him, you didn’t know what to say to be able to entertain whatever he was looking for.

“After Buck’s, uh, I went to the Dingo to grab a quick bite and uhm, I just went home after that. Nothing too, uh, special.” You turned to face him more but couldn’t allow yourself to look up past his waist.

“Don’t say that doll, everythin’ about ya is special.” He takes a cig out and lights it, the soft warm fire illuminating his sharp features.

Sitting down makes you way more nervous than it needs to be, as dorky as it is, you decide to start tidying up your (already) clean room.

“Really, Dal. Why did you come over? I mean, not that I mind of course! Or anything, I just mean since um, you don’t usually come knocking on my window,” you mindlessly stumbled over your words while moving some makeup around on your vanity.

“I heard some things ‘bout you. Just wanted to see if they were true.” He blew smoke towards the window, looking you up and down slowly.

“Oh, really? What’d ya hear? Good things? I hope?” You lightly chucked as you turned around, leaning against the wood.

He put out the cigarette on a cute white ash pan you had on your dresser and slowly walked over to you.

Your posture straightened, trying to put a respectable amount of distance between the two of you.

He leaned in, putting his arms on the vanity on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“I heard you have a bit of a crush on me doll, is that true?” His eyes flickered over every detail of your face, he smirked mischievously.

“Who told you that?” You turned your head away from him. “Was it Soda? Two-bit?” Your heart was racing and your body was getting very hot.

“You're not even going to deny it? Wow, I didn't know you could be so forward doll." He grabbed your chin back to face him. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No thats not what I meant, No- I do like you, wait no I don’t, I just-“

He leaned forward and kissed you passionately. He put his hands around your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck in response.

You broke away with heavy breathing, his eyes never left your soft lips.

“You don’t gotta be so shy doll, what if I said I liked you too?” He licked his lips before guiding you towards the bed.

He kissed you lightly again before pushing you onto your back, his muscular form looking heavenly with the moon shining behind him.

He climbed on top of you and starting kissing your neck, getting more aggressive with the time passing.

“I want you Dal.” You whispered. He stopped to look up at you.

“If you want me so bad, then take off your cute little panties, slut.” He continued to leave hickeys down your neck.

You squirmed underneath him, struggling to hold in your moans, scratching helplessly at your thighs to take the underwear off.

He grabbed your breasts and started sucking on your nipples. A moan escaped from your lips which only made him become rougher. He swirled your buds in his mouth, nibbling onto them and leaving them each have their own purple mark.

“I’m gonna mark you like this everytime I see you. Your mine doll.”

He kissed his way down your stomach towards your heat. He stopped for a moment to look back at you. Without breaking eye contact he ran his tongue from the tip of your core to your stomach.

This made you increasingly squirm against him.

“Dal..” you whined as he softly licked at your folds. He was teasing you and you couldn’t take it.

“Please Dal, make me feel good, please.”

He spread your legs further apart with his hands as he started to suck your clit aggressively. You could feel your back arching subconsciously, his tongue moving along your folds and in out out your hole.

“Let me spell my name out for you. So you know who you belong too.”

He dragged his tongue throughout your hole, trying to spell out his name.

He pulled away with a nasty grin at how disheveled you looked. Your hair was in a mess, your chest was heaving up and down, your eyes were hooded with complete lust.

“I need to fuck you doll, are you ready?” He whispered as he sloppily kissed your body.

“I’m ready Dal, I want you to fuck me so bad.”

He positioned himself between your legs, you wrapped them behind his back. He slowly inserted himself into you, staying still for a moment for you to get comfortable.

“God Y/n, your pussy feels so damn good.”

He held your wrists beside your head as he started to thrust into you.

His thick cock was the only thing you could think about. The way it filled you so nicely. The way Dallas looked hammering into you, your broken moans couldn’t stop.

He started to become rougher with each thrust, faster, harder, and his arms snaked around your stomach, pulling you into him.

You clawed at his back full of pleasure, your mind becoming numb as his thrusts were becoming sloppier the more time he spent inside of you.

“Dallas I’m gonna cum-“ you said before moaning loudly against him.

“Come with me baby, I’m about to come.”

He thrusted as fast as he could in you before slowly haltering to a stop. You guys breathed heavily against each other, sweat coating both of your guy’s skin.

His eyes met yours as he pulled out of you, slowly unrolling the condom and tossing it in a nearby bin. He laid down next to you, his body at an angle so he could see your face.

“Dally, I-“ he stopped you with a kiss. A slow and gentle kiss, while he traced the side of your body.

“You’re not just some one-night stand, I promise or whatever,” he whispered while looking at you. You softly smiled at him.

He pulled you into a close cuddle as you guys slowly fell asleep.

・❥・

[goldfades]

i js thoughtbof this but headcanons about manager and their relationship w/ Geno? i think if would be really sweet and he’d care abt her a lot

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐏𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐎 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

─ warnings | nothing but banter!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

i can't even begin to describe how funny their dynamic is

it's very much like daughter/father vibe but it's so funny cus they're both super duper sassy

so it's just constant PLAYFUL bickering

"okay so if you're the real pro, then why don't you coach?" "ok give me the whistle and i will"

geno would pretend he doesn't really care about manager at first but eventually she wears him down, EVERYONE knows he loves her

he would care about her so so so so much

he knows how much effort she puts into the team and always makes sure that she feels apart of the team and knows that they love her

he usually runs his ideas by her for future games, like planning and stuff cus even though she's just a manager, her knowledge of basketball is SO GOOD

during games when he's stressing out, she makes sure he's taken care of as well! she knows how hard he works too so she gets him food, water, etc etc

that's all i have rn but trust... there will more

(its 1am rn my mind is mush but i love this idea)

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[fanfics-with-coffee]

To be kind, To be a fool

This has only been proofread and edited by a sleep deprived me sooooo, I also wrote it in a daze from 1AM to 6AM. I'm back in my Baldurs Gate 3 hole and I've been so very inspired from so many other fanfic writers I got back on this blog

You did it, you saved the prisoners from Moonrise Towers and everybody is back, safe and sound at least for tonight. You and Astarion are holding back from the festivities, instead talking about your act of heroism and why you do it. You say you choose to be kind for who else will, he says you're choosing to be a fool for what else is kindness if not foolish.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Astarion x reader Words: 4400

Its doubtful if Last Light Inn had been quite so lively as when you returned in the raggedy old boat with the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. Once they had been cleared, everyone had ran to their loved ones or simply rejoiced in the warmth of the fire, ever burning away the darkness that threatened to creep inside any crevice it could get it's cold claws into. And of course they soothed their dry throats with the little wine and ale that was left behind when the shadow curse had blanketed the land. The two boys manning the bar were running around relentlessly, trying their best to fill every empty goblet and mug they could spot, leaving no one without a drink. It’d probably only be hours before Jaheira had to call it a night so they wouldn’t run out of the little liquid joy they had left. But until then, the celebrations were loud and proud.

For a moment, things were bright, despite the dark sky. 

“What a ruckus, you could almost think that Lathander himself had been in attendance.” Astarion mused, one hand gracefully swirling a glass of wine while the other rested on his upper arm. He was leaning against the wall beside you in a corner of the inn that hadn’t been filled with people. Not that it was difficult, even with the prisoners free it was barely enough to fill the tables and chairs. You smiled, watching the tieflings try to catch up after the devastating nights apart. 

“If Lathander was here, I think there’d be a lot more dancing on tables and a lot more wine.”

“True… And a lot more fucking.” Astarion replied with that signature cheeky smile he always pulls when he’s said something salacious or teasing. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, nodding along to his line of thought. He wasn’t wrong. 

“You’re probably right. Well at least we could let these people see another dawn, I think in a sense maybe Lathander really is here.” You pull your eyes from the happy faces and let them reflect in your mug of ale before downing another mouthful of it. The smooth, delicate taste of honey coats your tastebuds and leaves a pleasant warmth in your stomach.

“I didn’t take you for the god honoring type, you know? Besides, these people didn’t need Lathander, they had their own little ray of sunshine coming to their rescue anyways. Our own little goody-two-shoe altruist in shining armor.” He teases you, reminding you that there weren’t any gods in the belly of Moonrise Towers. Yet beneath the lighthearted tone you detected something else, a familiar bitterness and disapproval that he had given you before. That he gave you whenever you did something ‘too nice’, ‘too self sacrificing’ or ‘too cheaply’. You had long ago started ignoring it, instead taking it as a sign you probably did the right thing.

“Mmmh, mayhaps. I mean we were there anyways, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be left there to the Absolutists if I was stuck either.” You give him an answer you know he’ll hate and you made sure to slather some extra kindness in there as well just to really make a point. “And I find enough reward in watching these people.”

Astarion rolls his eyes hard enough you worry they’re gonna get stuck to the back of his head. You watch him, unable to hold in a laugh as he pretends to vomit from how ‘disgustingly sweet’ you are. You don’t say anything for a moment as he lets his eyes roam the room, the soft light of the torches reflecting upon his white locks of hair. You can see the disgust in his eyes as he watches them, and you could only guess as to why he felt so strongly about your acts of kindness. 

“I can’t wait to see the day you realize that none of these people would do the same for you… When someone betrays your kindness and I can stand there and laugh, telling you ‘I told you so’.”

He says it nonchalantly, as if it’s a fact. He let’s his own hatred for the world seep through every syllable yet he hides it behind a face that says he doesn’t care. You expected comments like this to come from him, you expected resistance to helping the helpless. Yet something about his words right now makes your chest tighten in anger, the notion that you were simply too stupid to realize that not everyone was kind. That he was maybe smarter and more experienced than you for seeing the cruelness in the world. You turn sharply to face him, slamming your mug down a little too harshly on a table close by. Astarions eyes meet yours, he never expected you to react like this, you had never before raised your voice at him. The air has grown tense. 

“Astarion, I am kind. I am not a fool, and you should do well to remember that there is a difference.” Your words are sharp yet you’re thankful no one else has seemed to notice you two. “I know that people will hurt me, and betray me. That people will not always do the same as I would’ve done. But if I don’t help, then who will? I have the power to make a change and I’ve chosen to use that power. You don’t have to agree, but you’re not allowed to tell me that I am wrong for deciding to be kind.”

He can see the hurt in your eyes as you correct him. That it’s not a question about your own navïte making you help others, but the fact you put conscious effort into being kind, despite the risk it has. Cold, uncomfortable embarrassment washes over him like ice water. A feeling he despises and so he sets it alight with anger instead, feeling himself burn with it as he finds himself again. His fingers clench around the half empty glass of wine he continues to hold onto. Thoughts swirl around in his head, trying to find the ones that will hurt the most, a painful payback for embarrassing him.

“And pray tell what is the difference? You waste not just your own time helping these idiots, but ours too. We were here to find a cure, yet all we’ve done is listen to sob stories and rescue people who will most likely die on the road to Baldurs Gate anyways. What kind of fool would waste so much energy and time on things that will lead to the exact same result anyways, I believe that’s actually what people call insanity.” He makes himself appear taller as he pushes himself off the wall and stands in front of you, scowling as he meets your gaze. 

How dare you tell him that he’s wrong? After 200 years of cruel torment and nights spent around people who could not give less of a shit about him, you’re telling him there’s people out there that care? And if so then it’s even worse, because that would mean no one simply knew he was in pain. Was Astarions own torment not enough for people to even notice?

No, he knows what he went through. No one cares about others' torment unless there’s something in it for them, even if just so they could feel a little better about themselves and comes at no expense of theirs. It’s always just about ourselves, Astarion just skips the other steps and puts himself first. Why could you just not do the same? Why did you have to go out of your way for anyone else?

“Fine, call me a fool. Insane, även. Say what you want about me, Astarion, but I will always choose to be kind. I’m sorry no one made that choice for you before, I am. B-”

“Do not tell me about kindness, y/n, there is no altruistic kindness like the one you speak of it’s a performance people put on for others.” His words are cold and sharp, they bite into your heart in much the same way his teeth pierce your skin. Painful. “We should all put ourselves first, it’s what everyone wants to do anyways! Skip the damn pleasantries and just be honest about it at the very least. I’m tired of having to look beyond the kindness just to see their true intentions.”

He’s rambling without thinking, remembering all the kind words and touches he’s received just because someone wanted to get in his pants. All the faux acts of kindness he watched Cazador perform so he could get what he wanted, or even just to make sure whatever cruel act he had in mind would hurt even more. All the nights in the beginning where he debated how he could save a victim, just to realize he’d get nothing but pain in return. The kind acts he himself performed in hopes of receiving something kind in return. 

The way he seduced you just to make sure he had safe passage to Baldurs Gate, to a cure. 

You were left speechless, caught off-guard by the outburst of emotions. You knew he was selfish but this was rooted deeper and maybe you should’ve realized when he had finally told you about Cazador and his ‘siblings’. You clenched your hands, trying to find something to refute his points. To prove him wrong. Yet you have nothing of worth to sooth his pain. He sees your hesitations and assumes he’s finally gotten through to you, he’s won. His red eyes leave yours to once again look at the others smiling faces, not wanting you to see the disappointment grow in him as he realizes he was right.

“So you’ve never been kind just to be kind?”

“No. Never.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, letting the motion tilt his head back as he finally raises his glass of wine, downing the rest of it. The sudden action makes the glass flow over the corners of his mouth and the deep red liquid coats his chin and drips down on his chest, staining the white fabric of his shirt. It bleeds into the criss-cross stitching and travels further down before he has time to react. 

You gasp and grab an old handkerchief stuffed in your pocket, quickly moving to try and save his favorite shirt. It's instinctual, thoughtless. Even when you’re mad at him and even though he’s furious at you, you try to help him. As soon as the cloth touches him, shame spreads like a disease through him, regret taking root in his chest somewhere where his beating heart should’ve been. 

He hates it.

“Don’t touch me.” He bites back, snatching the handkerchief from your hand to do the job himself. You instantly step back, putting your hands up to make sure you give him space.

“Tsk, I’m going to bed. Good night, y/n.” He’s aggressively dabbing at the stain as he starts walking away, trying to soak up as much as possible but it’s clear it's a useless endeavor, it will forever remain stained.

“Astarion!” You call out to him before he gets too far and he stops momentarily, turning to finally look at you. 

He’s met with pity reflecting off of your eyes in the lowly lit room. 

He hates it.

You say something else but suddenly the sounds of the celebrations drown out whatever it was. He doesn’t even try to listen and simply turns around to find the room that he had been given as a thank you from Jaheira. He didn’t need your pity, he didn’t tell you about his past because he wanted your pity, anyone would feel pity for him if he told them what had happened to him. He wanted you to… care. Foolishly, he wanted you to care about him, about what had happened to him. He wanted you to listen to his issues and maybe, just maybe, you’d want to help him like you helped everyone else around you. And maybe you’d do something without asking for anything in return. 

Yet tonight, he reminded himself that no such thing as true kindness existed. And to expect you to care about him despite who he was at his core was foolish itself. Your kindness came at a cost he hadn’t even thought about; You expected him to change in return for your kindness. He was mean, he was selfish and he wouldn’t let you change him for anything.

He turns to close the door to the room he was staying in, the feeling of his shirt clinging to his chest uncomfortable and wet. Astarions eyes find you in the same corner he left you, yet your eyes didn’t meet. Gale and Karlach had come up to you, pulling your attention to them. You had quickly started smiling and laughing again, one hand on Karlachs shoulder in a calming manner. 

Why had he even let himself hope that you would follow after him?

He closed the door.

The hours dragged on, the darkness in the Shadowlands making day and night nearly indistinguishable. The only thing that made time feel real was the ever waning torches, slowly burning out. And while you felt like it must’ve been a fortnight of drinking, laughing and talking, it can’t actually have been more than three hours based on how many torches had already burned out and been replaced. You had been convinced to join Karlach by the grill, Wyll telling stories of his time as the Blade of Frontiers in the soft glow. You listened and laughed, at points discussing the actual validity of these stories. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t let the thought of Astarion go. He hadn’t left the room he was staying in, all alone in there, perhaps still trying to clean the shirt he always seemed to wear. 

As people finally sated themselves and found their companions, the celebrations died down to  a quiet mumble amongst those unable to sleep. The children had long ago been told to head to bed, only occasionally peeking their heads out from the dorm or coming out to ask for a late night snack. Jaheira herself had taken over the bartending but was now stuck pleasantly talking with some fists that had sat down after their patrol shift. Even most of your companions had headed to bed, either in the dorm or at camp depending on their preference, Astarion had specifically called dibs on the single private room. 

“Well, I think it’s best I call it a night as well!” Karlach stood up and stretched her muscular arms over her head. “You should do the same, soldier, can’t have our tactician getting sloppy!” She smiled at you, expectantly putting her hands on her hips as she waited for you to stand up and walk with her.

“Oh, I think I’m going to stay up just a little more. I’m sorta enjoying the quiet murmur in here, and I haven’t really had the time to speak with Jaheira since we came back.” You lied, trying to give her a convincing smile. But you couldn’t hold her eyes with yours, instead turning your head to watch the door to Astarions room, trying to make it look casual. 

“Riiight… You know, I don’t know what’s going on between you and fangs but I wouldn’t take anything he says to heart. He’s sorta dumber than he wants us to think, so whatever he told you… Eh well, I dunno, I’m not the smartest myself.” She laughs at herself, the alcohol having had an effect on her after quite a few bottles. “But I am the strongest! So if he needs  a good assbeating then I’m here for ya. I know he can say some pretty rude stuff at times even if he doesn’t mean it. What is it people say? Hurt people, hurt people?”

“You’re right Karlach...” You smile at her, she may say that she’s not smart but she knows people better than most. “But it’s fine between me and Astarion, we just had a disagreement but it’s nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Though I know an assbeating wouldn’t help, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well if you say so, soldier! I’ll see you in the morning then I guess.” She gives you a hard pat on your back before leaving, yawning loudly as she walks towards the dorm room, softly ‘shoo’-ing another tiefling child back into the room.

You spend some time just watching the embers of the firepit burn, feeling the heat hitting your face in waves and drying out your lips. You drink the last of the wine in your cup and lick your lips, standing from the stool to leave the empty cup at the bar. Your eyes find the wooden door again and you spend a long moment debating if it’s a good idea. Facing Astarion right now would be awkward and draining, it would even risk you two blowing up at each other again. Yet you know he was hurt, that much was obvious.

The knock is soft and you’re uncertain if he could even hear it over the sound of the fireplace in the room. You consider that maybe he had gone to bed in the end, it had been hours since you saw him after all. 

“Astarion? Can I come in?” You call out softly, afraid to wake him if he was in trance but wanting to give it at least one more shot before you give up. It takes a moment but suddenly the door opens ever so slightly, just enough to let you know it was open but not enough to see him in the doorway. You take that as a ‘yes’ and carefully push it open further. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps come to the door nor leave, yet when you slip through the crack of the door he’s sitting on the bed. The room is dark, long shadows being cast from the dying fire. The moon lights up his pale skin and even paler hair, reflecting off of him as a glow. His legs are crossed and he’s leaned back on his hands, his chest exposed. He looks as if he’s made of marble, his chest doesn’t even move with breaths as you watch him, a quirk of his vampirism you’ve realized. You make sure to close the door behind you, never turning away. 

Neither of you say anything. There’s a book open  next to him on the bed, it’s the sequel of some book he had picked up early on in your adventure. You had gotten the sequel for him after he expressed his enjoyment for the first one, it had cost you a gold but it was worth it. You stare at it, unwilling to meet his gaze directly. Yet his is firmly placed on you, indifferent and icy.

“Well? Were you just here to get your handkerchief back or did you want something?” He spoke first, raising an eyebrow.

“...Is it as good as the first book?” You ask, finally looking him in the eyes. He furrows his brows before he looks at the book next to him, realizing what you meant.

“It’s decent. I liked the twist in the first book so it has a lot to live up to, but it’s an enjoyable read. But I’m sure you’re not here for some midnight book club so out with it. What do you want?” He’s clearly pushing you away, but the fact that he opened the door when he heard it was you must mean he’s willing to listen.

“I wanted to come see how you were doing. Did you manage to get the stain out of your shirt?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And no, I did not, I will have to try to find someone who knows prestidigitation to get it out, I believe. Now if you excuse me, I’d quite like to get back to my bo-” He’s about to pick his book back up, clearly done with the conversation if you weren’t going to get to any point.

“I also wanted to apologize.” 

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his full attention and newfound interest in the conversation.

“I snapped at you, and while I don’t think I was in the wrong for doing that-” He rolls his eyes, making it clear he disagrees with you but he lets you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have made it sound like being kind was an effortless choice and that you always can and should choose. It’s not easy every single time. So I’m sorry.” You try to gauge his reaction, see if he gives you any sort of response. He doesn’t at first, his face difficult to make out in the drastic lighting. The distance between you may only be a couple meters but right now you feel like there's kingdoms between you.

“...You say that yet you make it seem so damn easy. You never question why someone needs help, if it’s their own fault for getting themselves in that situation. You never assume people have any other intentions than what they tell you up front. You’re kind as effortlessly as some breathe.” He spits out the words as if they’re venom, once again speaking as if he believes you’re a fool. “Even to me, you’re kind. You ask me about my wounds, if I like the books I read, if I’m comfortable, where I learned to sew… I thought you were just trying to get in my bed at first, something I’m used to. I’ve given my body to countless ‘kind souls’, but now I’ve realized you just want me to be another victim you saved. Another person you’ve fixed. So you can play hero and get all the love and praise that entails. ‘Hero of Faerûn saves poor vampire spawn! Look at this poor sucker!’” He uses his hands to show off the fake headlines.

“Pun intended.” There's a sarcastic smile on his face as he stands up, grabbing your bloodied and wine stained handkerchief from the bed table before approaching you.

“That’s not why I did those things, Astarion, please. I care about you, just liste-”

“Well jokes on you, your kindness has been wasted on me. I’ve used you for my own gain, you know?” He throws your handkerchief against your chest, forcing you to clutch it so as to not let it fall. “I played with you just as easily as any other poor fool I’d find in Baldurs Gate’s whorehouses. You were ridiculously easy, just a few kind words and charming smiles and you were wrapped around my finger! Not that I blame you, have you seen me? I’m hard to resist. But it’s time to drop the pleasantries, the kindness, you’ve just been a tool for me to find a way to survive and I’ve just been another notch in your belt. But I am not another helpless pawn for you to feel good about ‘fixing’. I am pessimistic, I am selfish, I am merciless and I am cruel, and you won’t ever be able to change that.” He finally finishes his monologue, still forgetting to mimic the act of breathing as he stands before you in eerie silence. There’s a sense of vulnerability within his eyes despite his posture. Like a cornered animal lashing out in a desperate attempt to be left alone, to not be hurt.

You’re standing close to him now, mere decimeters away from each other's bodies. Yours heated and warm and his forever cold to the touch. You move slowly when you finally decide what you want to say, what you need him to realize. His eyes notice your hand raising and he tenses up even further, preparing him for what? He’s not sure. Then your hand reaches his face, softly cupping his cheek with your palm. Your heat exchanges with his, your hand slowly warming his skin while yours cools to the touch. He’s in shock, unable to say or do anything, just watching your face to try and read what your intentions are.

“I’ve tried to tell you, even before you went in here. I will always choose to be kind to you, Astarion, just as you are.”

He finally sucks in air, his lips parting to make sure his lungs fill fully and it’s as if it's his first breath since he died in that alley. That’s what you had tried to tell him before he left. You smile, moving your hand to brush a strand of his hair out of his face, observing his features. The dark, angry and nearly sadistic expression he carried before when he was trying to hurt you has washed away, leaving only the face of a lost young man standing before you. Eyes wide and mouth agape as you fully brushed off all the cruel things he said to you. Could he do nothing to scare you away, force you to back off? Keep you locked out of his heart?

He closes his mouth finally, eyes cast down to the floor as shame once again flowers in his chest, the thorns digging into every nerve.

“Even when I make it a difficult choice?” He asks quietly, shyly.

“Yes, even when it’s a difficult choice. But I don’t find it difficult to care for you Astarion. If you let me… I wouldn’t even find it difficult to love you.” You laugh a little, the question was silly to you after all. 

“You really are a fool.” A smile forms on his lips, the smile lines you’ve always adored finally showing themselves and his eyes as softening. He could never understand you, you’d never make sense to him. No matter how many times he thinks he has you pegged, you always go over and beyond his expectations. And once he thinks you’ve reached your limit on kindness, he finds a little more, even for a monster like him. His hands, which had consistently remained at his sides until now, moved up to find your hips. Astarion pulled you in closer to him, soaking in your heat and digging his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t help but laugh again, loud and happy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer to you.

“I will always be kind, even if it does make me a fool.”

[mortuarywriting]

Its 1am and I should sleep but that's not happening so I'm thinking about this thing I've been turning over in my head.

Anyway here's how your softness as a fat partner to the 141 + whoever comes to mind with as a bonus is a grounding force

The mission was supposed to be short and easy. Drop in the bucket compared to some of the others, but when does it ever go like the brief? They're a week over, now, and while no news was good news you'd kill for a text. An emoji would be fine, you'd settle for a garbled keyboard smash as proof of life.

Still, civilian life doesn't stop while your partner is out risking their lives so the populace doesn't see just how close some calls get to total destabilization. You had to work and that meant in the evening you had to unwind before you lost your shit. So here you were, sat on the couch and distracting yourself and decompressing.

The click of the key in the door perked you right up, you paused whatever you were doing to turn and watch the door open, "welcome home! How did-oh," your happiness was paused, replaced by concern by the haunted look in the eyes you love so much. This was a rough one, so you went back to past experience, "do you need space, a pillow, or a weighted blanket?"

Price would stay quiet as he put down his duffel and take off his boots. You were already thinking through contingency plans to get him out of his head if this didn't work, but he sits himself on the couch next to you instead of in the armchair. He about collapses into the plush material more than sits down, but the raised arm is an invitation and you're not one to ignore it. You snuggle in, head on his chest and your weight a comfortable softness where he's hard muscle and strength holding you close. The both of you sit there for some time, you listen as his heart rate mellows as his thumb traces idle patterns into your side. You know eventually you'll both wind up out back sitting in the rocking chairs you gave him shit about getting, but there's nothing like it. You'd take sitting and rocking side by side out there while he has a smoke any day of the week, it meant you had each other and what else do you really need?

Ghost would stand in the doorway for a beat longer than he usually would, and you weren't sure if he'd stay or not. Hell, wouldn't be the first time he arrived on your doorstep just to go back to base without crossing your threshold. It's a pleasant surprise when he walks in, though, and his duffel falls with a thump. Sometimes he needs to put himself away and sometimes he needs your presence. This time it's definitely the latter as he just crosses the room, boots and all, just... climbs onto the couch to lay on it, pinning you where you sit within his grasp and his face pressed to your stomach. You feel your face soften as you run a hand along his back, a soothing presence as he holds you close. You feel him squeeze softly at your sides, fat moving just so in his grip to confirm he's in the present, he's safe, and if you were ambitious you might even say he's home. At some point you'll prod him enough to get him to bed, you were well aware he was too big to sustainably sleep on the couch without hurting his neck or back. Tomorrow you'd heckle him for the boots on the furniture but for now you were glad he was back in your arms.

Gaz offers you a smile when he opens the door, but you know that fake 'trying to reassure you' smile when you see it. He goes through the same home routine but it's more muscle memory than anything- duffel in its spot, boots off and away, hat and keys on the little table- but you don't need to call to him for him to come to you. No, he's dragging himself to you, exhaustion written in his features but you know he won't let himself go to bed without at least checking in. You smile and pat your lap, the easy compromise that has him giving you a soft but sincere smile. He settles onto the couch, laying on his back with his head in your lap as he fights to keep his eyes open. You know he's likely jetlagged to hell, so you start talking- about what he's missed since he was gone, which shows you two need to catch up on, only the hottest neighborhood bird feeder gossip- and you watch as the tension eases from his shoulders. He doesn't need to be on high alert in a combat zone- he's home, he can relax safe and sound.

Soap wastes no time- duffel dropped, door kicked shut, boots pulled off and dropped as he crosses the room to you. You yelp as he scoops you off the couch enough to flop on his back and hold you to his front, burying his face in your neck as he let's his hands roam. You huff, amused more than annoyed at him man-handling you. Well, among other feelings, but those come later, for now you hum and wrap your arms around his shoulders where you can, hugging him close. Sometimes he needed the extra grounding force, too much energy buzzing below his skin and your rocksteady presence a balm. You're happy to do it, you love this man through thick and thin and there were worse things than mandatory cuddles.

Bonus:

+ Kate gives you a weary smile before she stops through the kitchen. You smile as she comes back with a drink for both of you, though you know yours will be touched significantly less as you rest your head in her lap and hear her out as she talks about what she can. She runs her free hand down your shoulder, tracing patterns down the side as she does.

+ Nikolai you know is a 50/50, either he needs to keep his hands busy doing something else or he'll take you up on your offer. The odds seem to be in your favor, though, as he sits with you. You aren't exactly suprised when he pulls you into his lap, or when he takes a few minutes to just sit and listen to your heartbeat and steady breathing. He'll be back and bantering before you know it but for now he holds you tight, waves of soft weight pulling him back to a safe harbor.

Aaaaand now it's 2:30 time is an illusion (oops)

[idv-sweethearts]

Hi! Um can I request for a wax artist with a very dere dere type reader? Just totally affectionate and sweet on the guy even if the others can’t understand it! Thankies in advance! ^^

Philippe (Wax Artist) Headcanons with an Energetic Reader🧁

Note: Sorry about the long wait! I've just been doing other things. Also, sorry if this is incoherent in any way. It is currently 1AM. Warning for implications of hypothetical crime directed at the reader.

♥︎ He's not energetic, himself. He is bitter. Angry, and motivated by that, but not energetic. Perhaps there was a time when he was as cheerful, but he cannot be so carefree.

♥︎ As much as he would absolutely hate for you to smother such a delightfully cheerful personality, it would be terrible if someone, believing you to be a naive fool, attempted to hurt you. Physically, emotionally, it does not matter. The idea that you, or any good person on earth would be hurt sickens him. It is all that he intends to stop.

♥︎ In truth, you are not the fool. They are fools to think they can hide like weak prey animals, when they are anything but prey. To think that one might hate you for the refreshingly positive energy you fill every room with. Such a perspective can only be utterly foolish.

♥︎ All he asks is that you remain calm and reserved in public so no-one incorrectly assumes you're a good target. By his side, no-one will hurt you and escape unscathed. He'll be damned if he lets any scum that has dared to twist itself into a human shape even come close to harming you. Deception and pain are not your fault. It is not your responsibility to ensure that every beast remain in its den where it ought to stay until it shrivels up and dies.

♥︎ One day, you will die. He will die too. It is an unfortunate fact that cannot be ignored. Until then, he believes it is best to make the most of every day. Progress in art and science as much as you can in your lifetime. Fight endlessly for the world you wish you could live to see. In his free time and even while he works, it is soothing to have you by his side.

♥︎ I think his favorite form of affection to recieve is physical contact. The pressure of it, the reminder that you're there. He's not terribly inclined to give physical affection, however. Quality time is important to him as well. He enjoys just existing in the same room as you. All that being said, he's very content with compliments regarding his physical appearance, as well as his creations.

♥︎ He also wouldn't mind if you read to him. While he works or while he's trying to sleep. If reading to others is something you like, he'd like to listen. Just try not to be too loud. You can ready any book you like, or you can ramble about your interests. It does not matter, as your voice alone is a comfort to him.

♥︎ As for affection he prefers to give, he's most inclined to give handmade gifts and help with various tasks as long as he's not busy. It's no trouble, really. And, if you happened to cook for him, he'd greatly appreciate it. One can get caught up in their art so easily and forget to care for themselves.

♥︎ Speaking of art, if you enjoy art or writing or anything like that, he'd love to see what you create. He will critique it, but he means no harm. He just wants you to improve to the point of perfection and bring your talents to the world for all the worthy and unworthy to behold, even if it's only a simple hobby to you. He'd have a hard time understanding wanting to remain unknown and uncredited for a creative ability no-one will ever be able to replicate.

♥︎ No-one will ever replicate you. No-one can. Maybe imitated, but never replicated or replaced. Perhaps there are others like you. Perhaps they have similar interests or behavior. But you are you. In every moment before and after your birth, every intricate detail of your identity is transformed and arranged into what is known as you. Others will surely be outwardly similar, but none can compare to you.

[wintersera]

g!p aespa and their roomie

(thoughts)

g!p aespa x f!reader non idol au

notes: this has been on my mind for a longgg ass time and i think i’ll write more about this au. it’s also like 1am while im writing this oopsies.

cw: crack (in a way), g!p, dacryphilia(?), SMUT, cockwarming, degredation, praise, marking, overstim, edging

first time staying in a dorm and all of your roommates have cocks??? life is good.

GISELLE HAS A FAT COCK AND KNOWS HOW TO USE IT WELL. knows you’re a perv, staring her up and down everyday. from when she just came out the shower to her coming home from work yeah.. perv. as if she isnt herself. looking at your boobs like she needs them badly. she does. first time you came into her room she signals you to sit down next to her. since its the start of the term you dont know each other that well but the closeness between you two would say otherwise. only knowing eachother for at least two weeks to your surprise she’s comfortably touchy with you. maybe because of the unsurprising sexual tension you both have. leaning in to you with her low cut shirt showing just a smidge of cleavage whispering dirty words into your ear to rile you up calling you her “good little slut” or “her whore” DAMN she wants to fuck you so bad. rips off your clothes desperately tearing your panties off real fast. she lets you ride her mhm mhm. when i say her cock is big i mean it's biiiiiig. 10 inches to be exact. as much as she’s lengthy she’s equally girthy as well. hard to get adjusted to but you finally fit her cock in your cunt. helps you ride out the pain for a while before shoving her entire length into you the sudden pleasure making you scream her name <33 SHE LOVES COWGIRL POSITION SO MUCH ITS CRAZY. watching you bounce on her hard dick while your boobs move up and down is her favourite thing. doesn’t hesitate to sit up and suck and lick your nipples leaving dozens of hickeys on your chest. such a hard dom, will literally shove your head into the pillow, pounding hard and rough from behind. definitely an ass smacker you can’t tell me otherwise. has you crying ever time she slams her cock into you smacking your ass to gain even more guttural moans from you. she goes to gym so you know she can pick you up with ease and throw you around, she does exactly that. treating you like your a doll whenever she wants to switch positions. your on all fours and out of nowhere you’re now on your back with her hovering over you, teasing your entrance again with her tip. 100% a massive tease as well. denying your orgasm for hours on end until your messed up crying on her bed begging on your hands and knees to cum. eventually she does let you cum, but overstimulates you for as long as she’s edged you. i jst think she’s a really teasy hard dom UGH. she also seems like the type to take videos and photos whenever you have sex. has a hidden photo album filled with videos of you riding her dick or photos with hickeys all over your body YUP.

karina has a massive dick but doesn't know how to use it. after actively listening to you and aeris, almost everyday, late night activities she wanted to join in on the fun albeit kinda embarrassed about asking if she could. is so caring during intercourse, almost like you’re a real couple. she’s slow and steady making sure that you’re feeling good always asking if you’re okay. the type of person to get hard off of praise. you could call her a “good girl” after she’d cum in you and she’d immediately get hard again. yeah she has a massive cock probably around the same size as aeri’s but a little more smaller. veiny and kinda leans a little to the left. HOWEVER she genuinely doesn’t know what to do with it, so most of the times you’ve had sex you’re the one to lead. it’s pretty unusual for her as she’s always taken the lead outside of sex meaning she’s a little bit awkward in these situations UGHH she’s so lost. her spooning you whilst you’re watching a movie, her eyes glued onto whatever is on the screen then she feels a sudden pressure on her crotch? oh its just you subtly grinding on her bulge. she’s red in the face and can’t control her hard on awhh so cute. slithering your hand into her boxers, you slowly move your hand up and down her shaft, jacking her off underneath the blanket saying that she should just relax, lowkey scared that one of the other roommates would walk in on you two but at the same time it excites her. feeling of getting caught makes her head spin, cums hard and loud once you pick up your pace. genuinely can’t control her hard ons fr. you could be chilling doing your studies, you look to your left and you see her with one arm on the door frame looking like she needs to be inside of you ASAP. doesn’t like to disturb the other roommates though. rubbing her cock with your hands and your mouth kissing up and down her shaft sends her brain into overdrive. using one of your hands to cover her mouth making sure that her whimpers and moans are almost inaudible. either that or she’s heavily making out with you once you’ve finished using your mouth on her, again, making sure that she’s not moaning out loud. my favourite switch <33 whenever she decides to dom, or whenever you ask her to dom you, she’s so careful. doesn’t have many hard kinks she’s more on the vanilla side. loves missionary with you, anything that gets her really close to your face she loves. seeing how you react when she goes a bit faster or thrusts a bit harder reassures her that she’s doing a good job on pleasuring you. fucks like she’s desperate when she’s near her climax. doesn’t matter what position you’re in, but whenever shes nearing her high she’ll speed up her thrusting grabbing whatever she can, the sheets, your hair, hips, hands literally anything to give her some leverage. disregarding the fact that the other roommates are still in the dorm, she often moans loudly nearing her climax.

winter is a little on the smaller side but hear me out.. she’s a grower. has the most sensitive pink tip. another victim of you and aeri’s late night adventures. (early morning adventures as well 💀) she’s overall really really sensitive OH MY GOD. one day while you were hanging out with winter in her car you accidentally opened one of the videos aeri had taken of you the night before. then boom, you turn your head to the right and you see winter blushing harddd. and that’s when winter had her first blowjob yaayyyy!!! personally i think she’s a massive nerd, vigin, loser and i love that for her. awkward air turned into a heavy make out session at the back of the car, thankfully her windows are tinted ;)) winter not knowing where to put her hands so she just roams across your body from your chest, thighs, hips, neck. she’s touching you everywhere. she’s so clingy pls don’t let her go :(( gets confused when you break the kiss just to slowly go down and unbutton the jeans she’s wearing. to your surprise, and liking, her dick is surprisingly big? shivers when you kiss the tip of her cock, precum already dripping down. she’s so sensitive its crazy i will not stfu about it. taking her whole cock in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. whimpers spew from her pretty lips. it honestly feels too good for her to the point of incoherency, repeating “feels so good” “too good” “gonna cum” everytime you suck on her tip. head grabber? head pusher??? pushes your head furthering her cock into your throat making you gag a little but then cums at the sensation of you gagging. after her high you decide to spice things up a little for her yaaayy winters first pussy experience!!! straddling her hips, you take off your soaking panties, inserting her already hard cock into your pussy. she shrieks, grabbing your hips saying that it “feels so tight” “feels really warm” pretty much on the verge of cumming once again. overstimulating her is so easy aaahhh. cockwarming lover <33 sometimes she gets too busy with studying but you’re always ‘distracting’ her. you decide to cockwarm her while she studies for her next exam, occasionally shifting around in her lap earning a couple of cute whimpers. will have sex anywhere!!! she’s in the kitchen making ramen when you come up behind her, pressing your chest into her back. immediate turn on. whispering to her that she should take off her pants and she complies “awhh what a good girl”. getting on your knees to pull out her cock telling her to focus on cooking the food. playing with her tip with your tongue while you stroke her shaft making her legs shake from all the pleasure.

ningning is average size but just a bit more bigger than winter. also pretty girthy too. i don’t see much top ningning on tumblr but in this au i see her as a top leaning switch YESSSSSIRR🫡🫡. ning is such a secretive whore. pretends to not know what sex as soon as she sees you taking off your shirt she’s ready to pounce on you. YET AGAIN another victim of you and aeri’s fun little moments. at first she didnt seem all too interested in you at the beginning of the term but she grew somewhat accustomed to your presence LMAO. you had to ask her a question for something? lets say it was something to do with the school year since you were both in the same year. not answering her phone nor opening the door to her room when you knocked, you decided to waltz in, patience running out. LORD she’s sat there with her cock out looking at one of the polaroids aeri had taken of you. you both stare at each other in deafening silence, until she giggles, ushering you towards her bed. before anything she preps you by eating you out. taking both of your legs and hooking it over her shoulders, groaning into you pussy, circling her tongue around your clit. professional pussy eater i think so. already close to cumming she takes your legs off of her shoulders, positioning your legs so that you’re comfortable in front of her then grabbing you by the hips slamming herself into you wet cunt, forcing her entire cock into your hole. her technique is crazy, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically one hand playing with your clit and the other rubbinf circles on the side of your hips. the type of person to laugh during sex, its endearing and its cute but it’s so hot???? she’d be fucking you so hard that you’re crying but she’d be giggling saying that you’re “doing so well”. definitely takes videos and pics like aeri does. wants to keep them as a cute little memory you know, always rewatching them whenever you're not here :( morning sex with her thoughhh. waking up after a night of rough sex with her, seeing her lazily eat your pussy out slowly. takes her time for sure making sure you’re wet enough sliding a couple of fingers inside, hitting your gspot. i feel like she’d spoil you sick, constantly praising you for taking her cock so well, calling you her “pretty baby” , buying you lingerie just so she can take pics of you.

i’m such a slut for g!p giselle i need her so bad

[rafeysbby]

plsssss do like a noncon older rafe cameron x young reader. Basically rafe is the reader’s best friends’s dad and she has like a slight crush on him but rafe ends up coercing her or something. I was hoping for something dark but you can go a chill route whichever one you feel more comfortable writing ❤️❤️❤️❤️😊

a/n: thank you baby for this! i would say i had fun writing this but its 1am again and i think i was floating in and out of consciousness while writing this. rip my sleep schedule. (who am i kidding she was already dead)

word count :: 908

cw: 18+ only - mdni, smut, p in v sex, NONCON/DUBCON, age gap (19 years, both characters are of age), use of pet names, slapping, idk what else-

read at ur own risk!!

Knock knock.

Your head swivels around to face the door, the source of the knocks clear when you hear the low, gravelly voice. “Ariana, sweetheart? Can I come in?”

The door creaks open without permission, revealing none other than her father. Rafe Cameron…

Rafe is commonly known as the town's biggest dilf. And sure, he was attractive… he had these piercing blue eyes and a buzzcut that made you foam at the mouth, not to mention his big, bulky arms. And you just knew his dick was big. But no. no, no no- no, no. 

Snap out of it! He's your best friend's father.

God you knew how wrong it was, but you'd spent three years crushing those dirty thoughts inside of your little brain, how hard could it be going forward? Fucking hard. Just like you pictured him being when he fucks y- stop it girl, pull yourself together.

Okay, so it was harder than you thought.

Rafe steps inside the room, peering around and spotting your form curled on the bed. “Oh hey doll, didn’t realize you came in, how’ve y’been?”. You know immediately that he was talking to you and you snap back into reality, “oh i've been good. How about you Mr Cameron?”

“Im doing well doll.” he states, turning to the door to Ariana’s bathroom as it swings open, ari emerging, eyes locking with her dad’s. “Oh hey dad”.

You notice a weird sort of atmosphere as they look at each other for a second. Rafe turning to look at you only serving to worsen the tension in the room. You stare back at him, glancing down for a second but your brain registering it as an eternity. You notice his pants tighten slightly as he looks at you and it causes your thighs to clench subconsciously. You swallow as you notice his eyes still on you. And of course it doesn't go unnoticed by Ari. “what the f-” she mumbles, shaking her head while turning to her dresser to rummage through her make-up drawer, “will you quit eye-fucking her already? God… dad she's half your age!”.

Clearly that doesn't seem to matter to him, his smirk only widening at her comment, “it's only nineteen years, sweetheart” 

“Exactly my point, dad! She's literally only twenty-one!” Ariana retorts, finally turning around to face him, “just- get out, please? I don't want to have this conversation. Not now- not ever.”

And sure as hell, rafe leaves the room, leaving you and Ari in the room. 

“Hes such a fuckin’ perv, im so sorry-”

—

Later that night, you fall asleep on the floor of Ariana's room, pretty comfy in the pile of pillows that are sprawled across the floor beneath you. Both you and Ari are in deep sleep when rafe sneaks into the room, quietly tiptoeing over to where you lay asleep.

“Mm hello pretty girl” he whispers, gently, scooping you up with his big, strong arms, “you're coming with me, doll” you stir slightly as he takes you out of the room, and into his.

“M-mr Cameron?” you mumble as your eyes blink open slightly. “Shh dont panic doll, you're coming with me to have some fun, kay?”

You know, almost immediately, that you have no choice in the matter. You didnt exactly mind, hes hot, as fuck. But he's your best friend's dad- whatever, it's gonna happen and you're gonna enjoy it, you knew that much.

As soon as he shuts the door behind you two, he's immediately throwing you head first onto the bed. He wastes no time in sliding your shorts off your legs, groping and slapping the flesh of your ass. God he was addicted already and he hasn't even seen your pretty little pussy yet. He continues his attack on your now red, stinging ass as you reach back to pull his hands away.

“Such a good girl, already putting your hands where i want them…” he grabs a hold of your wrists, pinning them to your lower back. 

Seconds later, he's pulling down his pants along with his boxers, revealing his already hardened cock. You let out a small yelp as you feel him rub his tip over your clothed clit. “So wet for me already babydoll” 

You physically cannot form words, let alone sentences as you lay there motionless. You wiggle your hips a little, trying to get at least a little friction.

He pulls back slightly but instead of stopping entirely to punish you, you hear him spit, lubricating himself. A few moments later, he aligns his tip with your pussy as he slides your panties to the side. With one swift motion, he’s balls deep in your tight little cunt, stopping to let you adjust to his size.

You were right, his dick was big. 

As you start to move your hips in desperation for movement, Rafe takes his cue and starts to slam in and out of your tight hole, needy, almost pornographic moans leaving your lips with each sweet sound of skin on skin. His brutal attacks on your cervix had you creaming all over his cock in a matter of minutes.

“Thats my good girl-” he sends a tingle through your body as he smacks your ass, “you fuckin’ peep a word to Ariana and i swear to god. Alright?”

You nod frantically, confirming that you were his little secret. His, and only his.

“Thats it babydoll, you did so good f’me”

more of my works on the first # !!

taglist: @prettiest-angel

[modelbus]

YOOOO MODDLEE

yeah I did it again.

(Help I have a problem of disappearing into thin air)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PART THREE OF CUT CHAOS SHEBSJNSUH

you said you would write 500 chapters.. but like obviously exaggerating..? (Kiddinggg)

tho a few more couldn’t hurt..

juuuust saying if you ever feel like it I will eventually see it and it will eventually make my week. <3333

BUT THATS NOT WHY WE ARE HERE! (I’m sorry my requests are always so long and dramatic bro I just brain like that)

Actual request:

ok so like I knowww cut chaos started from rumours but like rumours are an easy way to start plot lines k? (Also I use she pronouns out of habit but they is pog too)

the friends in question: Tommyinnit (duh), Wilbur (moosic boi), Ranboo (generation loss trauma guy), Possibly Slimecicle?? I know he’s not someone you do requests for normally buttt if you’re okay with it that would be POG, or if slime is a no, tubbo!

SO a few months ago Y/N started working on an SMP with some minimal custom mods, some fancy texture packs, maybe some data packs, and its like this BIGGG project, BUT its not public and its taking a lot of her time, so she can only really do a few streams and most of the time because her schedule is so full its hard to work out streams with friends so, she is alone. with the internet being the internet people started to think something was up, some annoyed viewers made a few rumours and people kept making things up and escalating things until people were saying she did all sorts of horrible things to “lose all her friends” but one of the most popular theories was that she was emotionally abusing them (??? Internet wildin ig) she ignored them while mostly finishing the stuff for the smp, but decided to address it in a very- y/n way. Getting four friends to come to her house and hide slightly off camera while she made a purposefully bad apology video only for them to jump out at the end and her to stand up and be like “YALL REALLY THOUGHT I WAS SOME MASTER MANIPULATOR?! I’M JUST A FUNKY LITTLE CHAOTIC MINECRAFT GOBLIN N’ I’VE BEEN WORKING ON AN SMP THIS WHOLE TIME!! ITS GONNA BE SUPER COOL AND THESE FOUR PLUS ALOOOOT MORE PEOPLE ARE GONNA BE THERE I’M POSTING THE CREATORS SOON AND ITS LAUNCHING IN A MONTH!, SO STOP ASSUMING I’M A BAD PERSON AND GET PUMPED BITCHES!” something along those lines, maybe at the end a little peek at what people are responding with. (Obviously no pressure, but like id be cool) (thanks for considering deity of the busses and models.)

HOW WE LIKING THE SILLIES?!?

P.S I’m not always an angst gremlin (just most of the time..) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

I DO BE LIKING THE SILLIES (and thank you for elevating me to the level of deity, my ego has been inflated)

Pairing: Cc! Wilbur, Tommy, Ranboo, Charlie Slimecicle x Gn!Reader (platonic)

Roaring Rumors

Life was all about sacrifices.

Or, that’s what you keep telling yourself when you’re up at 1AM working on your server. Putting together an SMP is harder than it sounds; texture packs, data packs, comparability, world-building, even the (seemingly) simply act of contacting people to play on it. For the amount of time you spent on your computer, your hands might as well be part of your keyboard.

Sleep wasn’t the only thing you sacrificed. Streaming, even just fun ones with your friends, had quickly became rare. Although you loved to hop on a call while coding still, your online presence had severely receded.

You just keep telling yourself that sacrifices are necessary. That the payoff would be worth it.

And it really would be, but you just had to get there first. Which was proving harder than you had thought.

At the very least, you still had your friends. Wilbur sitting silently on call with you while you work, Tommy dragging you out of your room, Ranboo always willing to get excited over your progress. Every day you woke up with a text from your groupchat—typically Charlie—just filling you in on the latest internet trend by a meme.

Today, your news comes from Wilbur and Tommy.

“I think they’re canceling you.” Wilbur says casually while you’re in the midst of detailing the hunger bar for a texture pack.

“Ooh, you’re a wrong’un!” Tommy yells in the background of Wilbur’s side of the call.

The three of you had been idly chatting while each doing your own thing. Wilbur and Tommy were engaged in some Twitter competition, as far as you know.

“Canceling me for what?” You ask, deciding to ignore Tommy’s shouting.

“Existing, I think.” Wilbur answers.

“So the normal.”

“The normal.”

Although the conversation stops there, you can’t help yourself. Later, during one of the few hours you dedicate to getting sleep to stay alive, you pull open Twitter on your phone. Your last tweet was nearly two weeks ago, so it’s been a minute.

But you just want to make sure nothing horrible happened while you were busy. You’re a content creator, this is normal. Definitely. You definitely aren’t just justifying this so you can do it.

You swipe through tweets, heading to trending and searching your name. Tweets load, making your mouth run dry. Wilbur wasn’t joking.

All you can do is scroll, reading as the messages get wilder and wilder. From people saying they were missing you to theories on why nobody was streaming you. Each one seemed considerably more implausible, and before you know it you’re glaring at your screen like it’s to fault.

Some thought you had grown apart.

Some thought you had a falling out.

And, apparently, a lot thought you were emotionally abusing them. Or, depending on the tweet, manipulating them.

Quite honestly, you didn’t even know how they got the idea. The long threads of explanations did nothing but send you into a spiral, biting your bottom lip so hard that it bleeds.

You were so close to finishing the SMP. It needed just a few things, then you'd be able to start scheduling to get it up and running. You didn't have the time nor mental capacity to deal with whatever the fuck is going on right now.

Is it a good choice? Maybe not. But do you still ignore the accusations? Hell yes.

-

By the time you get even closer to finishing the preparations for your SMP, you've come up with the perfect plan to address the (quite stupid) rumors. It'll be a two-in-one; you address the rumors and announce the SMP at the same time.

"How long do I have to lay on this floor?" Tommy asks, stretched out behind your chair.

"Nobody asked you to lay on the floor." Wilbur points out, standing next to your computer. Charlie, on the other side, laughs.

"Yeah man, you wanted to be down there."

"Besides, I'm doing great down here!" Ranboo chimes in.

You roll your eyes, grinning. "I'm about to start stream, so it won't be for much longer. Just wait for my cue, yeah?"

Tommy grumbles, but shuts up. You take that as your chance to start the stream, switching it off your waiting screen and waving to the camera. Your chosen stream title has brought in a bit more than your usual casual steam view number, "Talking about some serious stuff," leading people to believe there will be drama. And if it's drama they want, it's drama you'll give.

"Hello, hello!" You smile, leaning back. "So I've decided to talk about some things. Namely, the Twitter shit. I am so sorry for everything, and I mean that. A lot. Sincerely. There's meaning in it."

Tommy snorts, and from the corner of your eye you catch Wilbur kick him to shut him up.

"What am I sorry about?" You ask rhetorically, acting like you read it off of chat. "Oh, you know. People have been saying all types of stuff. The things about me manipulating my friends?" There's a pause while you let that sink in. "So, I'm sorry."

It's a purposefully shitty apology, but you sigh and act like its heartfelt for a few moments, nodding towards chat. Their messages are mostly confused, especially because it isn't one emote-only.

"Sorry you guys are so gullible!" You shout, and Tommy practically tackles you.

Wilbur's the one to fix your chair, Ranboo and Charlie appearing next to you within moments.

"You guys really thought this one could manipulate me? The master?" Charlie asks the stream, pointing at you.

"Yeah!" Tommy shouts, way too energetic for someone who complained five minutes ago about being on the floor. "We're the master manipulators! Get fooled!"

"I, for one, haven't manipulated anyone-" Ranboo starts, but Tommy slaps a hand over his mouth and nods empathetically.

"Yeah, I don't know what you guys were thinking, but I've just been playing fucking Minecraft for the past few months nonstop." You laugh.

"Nonstop. It's a problem." Wilbur nods.

"It is not a problem!" Pause. "Anyways, I made an SMP! And that's where I've been! Not because I've been manipulating my friends or some shit, stop being dumbasses."

"It'll be super cool!" Ranboo adds in helpfully.

"These four-"

"That's us!" Charlie points around at himself, Wilbur, Tommy, and Ranboo.

"-will be on it, plus a lot more. It'll be posting those people soon! As in, check your Twitter obsessively guys! The SMP will be in about a month, too, so get fucking excited! I want to see some hype!"

"WOO!" Tommy screams, making everyone cringe at having their eardrums ruptured.

"So that's all I wanted to talk about I think. Anything to add, guys?" You glance around at the four surrounding you with a grin.

"One thing." Charlie nods, leaning in really close. "I have a secret. This SMP, it's actually-" He hits your end stream button mid-sentence. "And that's how you keep 'em interested."

-

Ycgmaenthusist NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP NEW SMP

Mammalianeighingreflecenthusiest We are dumb as fuck aren’t we

Poabsenthusiest i will RIOT IN THE STREETS if any of yall be mean to MY STREAMER -> Cmwylenthusist FR I GOT TWO FISTS AND A CAUSE

[finelinevogue]

don’t break my heart this year

summary - you break up with Harry but you live to regret the decision

warnings: self-deprecation, breakup, anxiety, family death, depression, but also fluff and a happy ending, i am one with hurt-comfort fics :)

pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry x reader

word count: +7.2k

It hadn't even been a year since you'd broken up with Harry and yet it still haunted you.

There wasn't a day that went past where you thought about how your life could've been so different if you had of stayed. If you had talked everything through with Harry. If you had been that little bit stronger. If you had given Harry a chance to explain how he felt.

Your breakup with Harry wasn't like most. Neither of you had cheated. Neither of you had fallen out of love with one another. Neither of you had stolen off the other. You had simply moved back home, to take care of your widowed mother and had lost contact with him. Your mum lived up in the top hills of Scotland, meaning the signal was dire. If you wanted to call anyone, including Harry, you'd have to drive at least 50 miles before hitting service.

It wasn't fair to keep Harry waiting days on end, just to have a five minute phone conversation with you. It wasn't fair that Harry couldn't see you because you lived so far away. He deserved so much more than you could give him. He deserved someone he could come home to each day, after work, and shower him with endless love. So you did what you believed was the most mature thing, and broke up with him. You drove all the way down to London to explain it to him in person, feeling like he deserved that much from you. He didn't take it well and neither did you. You left before he could ever really tell you how he felt, not having the courage to stay.

Since that day, you hadn't spoken to him. You knew it would hurt too much if you did.

Your mum wasn't doing well. Two years ago your dad had passed, due to heart problems, and your mum had taken it very hard. She was not in a good place, mentally, and you knew she needed someone to look after her. Being an only child made times like these hard.

Life had been hard recently, and it didn't seem like it was getting any better.

All your time was being devoted to looking after your mum that you hardly had any time for anything else. You were trying your best to study at online university whilst holding down tough hours at the local restaurant. Your average day would be 9-5 at university, but dipping in and out to help aid your mum in anyway you could. Then from 6pm until, normally, 1am you would work in the local pub. It was quite the drive from your mums house, but the money was needed.

In recent weeks it had gotten tougher. The work load from university had started to ridiculously pile up, to the point where when you finished at the restaurant you'd have to stay up until 5am just to finish off some readings or essays.

Your mum was worsening too. She no longer liked going outside by herself, because she was worried the "big, bad, world" might snatch her up just like it had you dad. You promised her she was okay, but she'd lost a lost confidence in herself and the world she lived in. Having a conversation with her was harder too - almost like you were losing her mentally.

All you could think about was how Harry was doing. Was he okay? Was he dealing with the breakup well? Or did it not really bother him at all? He was constantly on your mind, invading your every thought and you wished to have a moment away from him sometimes. Only sometimes though, as he quite honestly was the only thing holding you together at the moment.

As much as it pained for you to admit it, you truly hoped he'd found someone else - someone better. You knew the possibility of ever seeing him again, let alone being with him again, was shattered the moment you walked away from London. You'd left your heart with heart with Harry that day and you would be dammed if you gave it to anyone else. It was his to keep - even if he was unaware of its presence.

Tonight was just like any other night. Until it wasn't.

The pub owner, Patrick, your boss, had put you on an even longer shift today. It was getting closer to Christmas and the locals tend to come to the pub more often, sometimes even bringing relatives and friends from around the country. So today you didn't finish until 2am, having started at 5:30pm. It was tiring after a full day at uni.

You'd finished serving Alan and his friends their third round of beer for the evening, before getting back to cleaning up. It was getting close to closing time and you were beyond ready to go home now. Your mum would hopefully be in bed, but if not that would add an extra hour on before you could go to sleep.

Alan and co. luckily ended their night after round three, thanking you for your impeccable service as they left noisily.

The other staff members, who worked alongside you, had left ten minutes ago or so, claiming they had to be up early in the morning and so had to head off. If only you had the courage to say the same. You'd love to get off a little earlier, but it just wasn't practical.

As you were stacking chairs the front door chimes went off, signalling that you had a new customer. It wouldn't be an employee or Patrick because they'd all use the back entrance.

"Oh, i'm sorry we're closing." You explained, not looking over your shoulder to see who'd entered. You were focused on wiping down tables to rid them of alcohol stains, and flipping the chairs over to balance them off the tables so you could wipe the floor.

You didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing again. Instead, you heard his voice.

"All this way and you wont let me even have one drink?" He teased you, making you freeze in your motions.

You turned around cautiously, prepared for anything because it could just honestly be your mind playing tricks on you. Maybe you were losing the plot, not your mum. How wrong you were, though. So, so wrong.

There he was, all warm and loveable. Nothing had changed really. He had a little bit of stubble, clearly proud that he had finally grown some facial hair. His curly locks were piled underneath his infamous Green Bay Packers beanie, the one you'd bought him on your trip to New York. His cheeks were a little rosy from the cold winters eve, explaining why he was also layered in clothes.

"Hi Harry." You warmly smiled, feeling a small red burn creep onto your cheeks now. You were nervous stood in front of him again and you didn't know why. It was just Harry, after all .

"Hello." He replied the same way he always does upon meeting someone. You felt like you had to shake his hand or something to break the awkward barrier you'd built, but you didn't.

You were so caught up in the beauty of him that you completely forgot you were being rude.

"Oh, i'm sorry. Would you like that drink?" You offered, after clearing your throat and dusting down your clothes, even though the last thing you wanted to do was make another drink this evening.

"I was only messing, love." Oh how you'd missed him calling you that. The mere sound of it again sent butterflies straight to the depths of your stomach. He made you feel like life was on an eternal rollercoaster and it was one that you'd never want to disembark.

"Well, I-I can't serve any food past—"

"In not here for food either." He shook his head softly, maintaining the comfortable distance between you two. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable.

"Oh. Um, then what service do you require? Are you lost, um, because we have a phone out back that—"

"I'm not lost. I'm exactly where I need to be." Harry cut you off again, a habit you'd always found annoying but now found endearing. It was like he knew your thought process better than you did. He knew what you were going to say before even you did.

"How did you even find this place?" You asked confused. You had trouble finding this place and you grew up here, so how Harry has found it was an incomplete puzzle.

"I have my ways." He smirked his signature cheeky smile, the one which you'd fallen in love with. The one you were still in love with. You laughed and shook your dead at his idiocy but also his gentle humour. You really needed it after the past few months you'd had. The past few months that you caused. The ones that broke the perfect man standing in front of you.

"Irene?" You questioned your mothers name, not being able to think of another way he'd know your location.

"Irene, yes." Harry laughed at how quick you were. "How is she?" Harry continued, wondering if she was any better from the last time you'd spoken to him about her.

"Not good." You nodded your head and tried your hardest to smile, although it felt very unconvincing sat on your face.

Harry nodded too and you knew it was his way of silently telling you that he was sorry and that he hoped everything would get better. You were having a hard time believing him though. "And you?" He asked, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets to warm them up. He didn't understand how you were only stood there in a tshirt and cardigan, on top. Your tights and skirt were nice and toasty warm, but you were chilly up top.

"Okay, yeah, um you?" You quickly brushed past his question, not wanting to delve deep in to your feelings with him right now. Harry could tell you weren't okay though, no matter how much you told him otherwise.

He noticed the tired eyes. He noticed the stressed brain. He noticed the ever-slimming figure. He noticed the messy hair. He noticed the irritated and scratched skin on the top of your wrists. He noticed the way your hands were slightly shaking and your teeth were barely chattering. He noticed it all even when you thought he didn't. You weren't okay. He knew that much and you knew it too.

"Been better." He truthfully admitted, making you feel worse than you did before. You couldn't do right for wrong and it was slowly exhausting you.

"Mhm." Was all you could reply with, not having anything else to say because he'd heard it all before when you'd gone to London. You stacked the last few chairs and a thick blanket of awkward silence filled the air. You didn't want it to be awkward, but then again you should've thought about that before breaking up with someone you could never stop loving.

"What are here for then, Harry?" You wondered, moving behind the bar to maintain a distance between you two. You decided you'd sweep the floor tomorrow, instead of tonight, just wanting to escape from this shithole now.

"For you." He firmly put it, not sugar coating anything but just providing the honest truth.

"Oh-uh," you cleared your throat again, not sure how to continue the conversation, "any particular reason?" You stupidly asked, as if you didn't know the reason he'd travelled hundreds of miles to see you.

"Well it wasn't to come and shout at you, you'll be happy to hear." He joked, but all you could do was breathe a huge sigh of relief. You don't know whether you could take the hate today, even if you did heavily deserve it.

"Yeah, that is good to hear!" You joked along with him, but knew that wasn't the tone of what he wanted to talk about either.

"Hey? How about we get out of this dark and saddening, beer smelling, pub and go somewhere a little more fresh?" Harry offered, telling that you were desperate to get out of here and literally go anywhere but here.

"You have somewhere in mind, Mr Spontaneous?" You teased him, knowing that he will be useless in finding a good spot out here. There were plenty of good hideout spots, you just have to know where to find the best ones. You'd proudly been to them all and you used them as a place to seek the calm amongst the eternal chaos.

"Actually, I do, Miss Know-It-All." He teased back, earning a stuck out tongue on your behalf to him. He was such a little prick sometimes. "Go get your stuff and let's go."

"Okay." You bit your lip in excited anticipation. This could be either the best night in your life's history, or the worst.

Running to the locker room gave you the opportunity to let out a breath that had been wildly built up inside you, without even realising. Harry was actually here, let alone in the pub but actually in Scotland. Harry had been in contact with you mum, just so he could travel across the country to talk. God knows about what - or maybe it'll be about who he's now with. You were just so incredibly happy that he was here. For so long you'd built up this idea that it would cause a war if you ever saw him again - that he'd get angry at you - but it was nothing like it. If anything, he was being overly gentle and cautious around you - like he was afraid that he'd say the wrong thing and you'd make a run for it again.

The crew room reeked of sweat and it didn't take long for you to start feeling sick because of it. You quickly grabbed your overcoat and your bag before heading back out to the main restaurant area. Harry was sat at the bar, aimlessly tossing a beer mat between his fingers. He didn't even notice your presence he was that caught up in his own thoughts.

"You ready?" You timidly asked, internally asking yourself the same question. The answer was an indefinite no.

"If you are." He nodded and warmly smiled at you, assuring you that this was okay and it was alright to feel nervous. Hell, he certainly was.

"Okay. Let's go." He let you guide him to the door, like the gentleman he is, stopping to let you turn all the lights and machinery power off. Once you were both out of the door and in to the bitter frost, you locked the door tight shut.

"It's fucking freezing up here." Harry complained, and you knew it wouldn't be the last time he made a remark like that today.

"Tell me something I don't know." You rolled your eyes at the weather, fed up of the depressing cold. Jamaica sounded lush round about now - with all the swaying palm trees, warm sandy beaches and cooling waves of the ocean. Here, it was just hills, snow, hills, rain, hills and hills.

Harry lead you to his truck. It was one you'd never seen before so most likely had hired for the duration of time he was going to be here for. You wondered where he was staying, since there were no five-star hotels out here - only Margaret and Tony's B&B. Harry would like it there though. It sat proud next to a quaint stream and you couldn't hear a car even if you tried - it was the perfect retreat for a critically acclaimed mega-rockstar.

He opened the door for you, lending you a hand to step up since it was a large step. The feeling of his skin touching yours was a sensation that you could write novels about. A feeling that you'd so dearly missed and craved more than ever now. It didn't take long for him to enter his side of the car and start the engine up. The first thing he did was turn up the heating, noticing how your hands had been ice-cold when they touched his and how you were silently shivering. He noticed.  

"It'll heat up in no time, I promise. In the mean time, here you are." He handed you the coat he'd just been wearing and it was still lusciously warm inside. It smelt just like him. It smelt of home.

"Thank you." Not even turning down his kind gesture because you were that cold.

"Trust me, still?" Harry asked you, setting the car into the right gear before looking across to you. It was painful to hear him have to ask such a question. You pulled the coat tighter over you, using it as a blanket, trying to preserve as much heat over your body as possible.

"Always."

•••••

The drive was a very peaceful one.

No commentary was made between the two of you, only the soft, mellow, tunes of Sinatra danced around the confines of the car. You could sometimes hear the passing of a nearby car or steam train, but there were no voices. Comfortable silence is so overrated - at least you for you it was uncomfortable. It was because you were terrified of saying the wrong thing as to why you didn't say anything, but also you felt like you'd said everything the last time you saw him.

Your mind drifted to London, as you closed your eyes, on that rainy Thursday eve...

I didn't think i'd be this nervous for anything in my life, but here I was.

His house looked bigger than the last time i'd seen it. The ivy growing up the walls looked powerful, as if it could tear the whole wall off if it wanted to. The pink front door assured me that I was at the right house, but I silently wished that it was a different colour because then I wouldn't have to face what I knew was to come. It was all going to be my fault though. I would most likely leave with a broken heart and the guilty conscience that I broke his too.

But this had to happen. It wasn't fair to him anymore.

I got out of the taxi, thanking him for waiting just a few more minutes whilst I collected myself and went and did what I came to do. He was very sweet and let me ride for a discounted price, obviously sensing my abundance of nerves, saying he'd wait for me to take me back to the station after this. He didn't say anything else to me, but he didn't need to.

The walk to the door, underneath the porch out of the torrential rain, felt like miles and yet it was only a few steps. My mind rushed through every possible scenario this could end up as. I looked back at the taxi man and he was smiling with encouragement at me, as if he knew exactly what was happening here.

I knocked three times - each one with the same amount of power.

The anticipation was the worst part. I wanted to scream, but also cry already.

The door swung open after 27 seconds precisely, not that i'd been counting or anything. I was so ready to start my rehearsed piece with him, but I was so blinded by his beauty that all thoughts were forgotten. He couldn't have looked better. He was standing here in checkered pyjama bottoms and a navy-blue crewneck sweatshirt, with little brown loafer slippers for comfort, and he still managed to be the most handsome man on the planet. He was so perfect.

Unlike me, Harrys thoughts were clear and his mind was only focused on one thing. Me.

I'd never seen him move so fast in my life. He closed the distance between us instantly and sealed our lips together to knock down the final boundary. His hands cupped my cheeks so desperately I wobbled back slightly from the force. His lips had never tasted so good. So sweet. The sounds of the pattering rain were long forgotten and the overwhelming senses bursting off of Harry quickly infiltrated my system. The sweet taste. The freshly-showered smell. The angelic sight. The tingling touch. The blissful sound. My senses were overwhelmed by him and I couldn't help but cry into the kiss.

He didn't want to let go, that I was sure of. Each time I tried to move back and regain air he whimpered, pulling me back as soon as I had caught some oxygen. This was our longest, most passionate, most burning kiss. In fact it was our last, most passionate, most burning kiss - little did Harry know of that.

"Where've you been, baby?" Harry asked breathlessly, between a further two kisses to my now swollen, cherry, lips.

"A-away." I struggled get out my words due to Harrys continuous kisses.

"I was so worried. So, so worried." He shakes his head not wanting to think about it anymore. I pulled away from his grasp, stepping back to create a little distance between us. I couldn't say what I wanted to say if I was too close to him. "Where are you going love?" He chuckled out, but there was a heavy tone of vulnerability underneath his words.

"Harry y-you need to listen to me, okay?" I asked, but even he knew that he didn't have a choice. All he could was nod his head, too afraid to say anything. He had a disturbing feeling like this wasn't going to be a conversation about how much I loved and missed him - no matter how true that would be.

"I-I think you already know where this is going, so i'm not going to sugar coat anything." Harry was already shaking his head at me.

"Y/N/N.. Please, no.." Harry continued to shake his head, realising you two were on the same page now and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Harry, I - uh - shit. C'mon Y/N." I mumbled to yourself, trying to hold myself together. "I love you, Harry. I've never loved someone half as much as i've loved you, and I never will. You have my heart - all of it. I need you to know that first, because it's important to me that you understand that," I watched him nod his head, "Harry, baby, I can't be with you anymore. It's nothing you did I swear. You were and still will be the best boyfriend to ever exist, because you are the most amazing person to exist—"

"Then don't do this, angel. Please." Harry butt in, tears now flowing down his face and it made it painful for me to look at him.

"Harry stop. Okay? It's not fair on you anymore. I can't be the girlfriend you need. I can't be the one you depend on anymore because I can't be here. My mum she's.. Well it doesn't matter, but she needs me more than ever and I can't leave her. Not now,' I watch Harry sniffle and wipe his nose on his sleeve, "You deserve so much more than me. You deserve someone who will give you everything, not that you didn't have everything from me - it's just I couldn't give you all of me all the time—"

"I don't care." Harry kept repeating like a broken record. This is what i'd made him into. I stepped closer to him again, cupping his cheeks to help him focus on anything other than his dark thoughts.

"Hey. You'll be okay. You don't need me. I was just someone passing by in your life, alright?" I pressed my forehead hard against his, and he cupped my cheeks to mirror me. If I could touch him then he sure as hell was touching me. He would savour every last moment next to me, because it might just be his last.

"No, Y/N/N, you're not. You m-mean everything t-to me." Harry sobbed out.

"Okay, but now you have to let me go. For your own bright and wonderful future, Harry, you have to let me go." I instructed him.

"No, no, no." He repeated and all I could do to shut him up was give him a kiss. The final kiss. I poured as much emotion as I possibly could do into the kiss, relishing every last second I had with him. After today I would probably never see him again. I would go back and live in Scotland, where the media is non existent, and live my life without my favourite person by my side. I would go back to working in the dirty bar and slaving away to the demands of university, all the while Harry will find someone new - someone better - and start up his wonderful life with them.

He was going to do great things.

I was the one to detach my lips first this time, knowing that if I didn't stop there I would never. I gave him one final, full of love, peck before pulling away from his warm embrace.

"I'm going now." I whispered, not wanting to even hear myself say those dreaded words.

"No." Was all Harry could say back. We both had faces full of tears and hearts full of hurt, but for now I had to be strong for him.

"I love you." Were my last words, before running back to the taxi out of the storm.

The look on his face was one that I knew was going to haunt me for years. There was no escaping it. He was utterly and completely broken - and all because of me.

My impending thoughts got interrupted by a call of my name. It was a distant voice, one that I didn't understand where it was coming from. It was so loud and clear and it sounded just like Harry, only when I looked at him his lips weren't moving. I'd left him broken on his doorstop and he couldn't do anything to fix the situation at- Y/N/N!

Again the voice repeated my name. Maybe I was having a stroke?

I couldn't stop crying in the taxi. The man knew to take me to the station, no questions asked. I respected him for that. My mind spiralled down in to a pit of self destruction and loathing. Every possible cruel thing I could think of, I could relate to myself. I couldn't stop thinking about the fragile Harry i'd left on the doorstep and—

"Y/N/N!" Harrys voice was much clearer now and it was obvious that you hadn't been dreaming him calling your name. He was standing outside the passenger door and it was only then that you'd noticed that you were parked up somewhere. "You're okay, you're okay." He assured you.

"Wha- where are we?" You asked, slightly dazed from the god-awful memory that just replayed in your head. It was a nightmare that kept you up most nights - it was one of the reasons you hated sleeping. It baffled you how Harry even wanted to be near you right now after everything you'd put him through.

"Come on and i'll show you." Harry held out his hand to help you back out of the truck.

The clicking of your seatbelt signified to Harry that you were preparing to climb out of the car and follow him. It meant that you continued to trust him, and that was more than enough for Harry. You grabbed on to his hand and allowed him to hold on to you tightly, in case you fell.

"There you go. I've got you." Harry spoke quietly, like he was afraid someone nearby would hear him. There would be no one around for miles though. It looked like you were at some outlook, somewhere, but it hadn't hit you exactly where yet. You were slightly disorientated considering how dark it was and not being awake for the journey.

"Thank you." You whispered back, both of you knowing it carried a much deeper meaning than you thanking him for helping you out of a car.

He pulled out his coat that you'd had wrapped around you, knowing it was too cold for you to not be wearing a coat right now. He pulled it around you, helping you slide both your arms in, before leaning down to do the zip up for you. He did it up teasingly slow and it made you nervous for when he'd reach the top. Once he'd reached the top he was stood so close to you that you could hear his heartbeat. His breath was shaky, but not as shaky as yours. You wanted to blame it on the cold but you knew it wasn't because of that.

He looked between your sparkling eyes and your rosy lips, being so indecisive of what he would rather look at. Your lips, he could kiss them for days, but your eyes - your eyes were something else. He swore they were the most precious things in the world. You were convinced he was going to lean in and kiss you, but he proved otherwise.

"Here," he took off his beanie and helped suit it onto your head instead, making sure your hair was tucked out of your eyes as he did so, "you're like a little icicle." He chuckled, making you laugh along with him.

"Thanks, Harry." You smiled sweetly at him, blessed to have him act so kind towards you. His heart was so big, yet so fragile as if it were made of glass, and deserved to be treated with all the grace in the world, but you'd managed to tear it down to its last shards - leaving nothing but broken pieces for him to pick up. "Aren't you going to be cold?" You asked, concerned for his physical health.

He reached in to the glove compartment, before bringing out another hat - a TPWK one at that. You laughed as he placed it on his head, finding it amusing how he was repping his own merchandise.

"You think it's funny? Me, wearing me own merch?" He laughed along with you, finding the most stupid things hilarious. It was just like old times - better times.

"Well do you want your hat back?" You offered, reaching for the bobble on the top of it.

"No. I like it better on you." He winked and it made you roll your eyes.

He slammed the door shut and locked the car with his keys, before stuffing them in his pockets. He took in a big breathe, most likely taking in the crisp winter air. It was refreshing, but something that was becoming all too familiar now. You needed a change. Jamaica, maybe?

Harry reached in to the open trunk of the truck and pulled out a regular rucksack. He slipped it on to his back before he held out his hand for you. "Ready?" He asked, not going anywhere until you took a tight hold on his hand.

"Ready." You nodded, eagerly grabbing his hand - wanting to feel those tingles all over again.

•••••

The walk, to wherever the fuck you were going, was exceptionally pretty. Harry chose well.

The path was hidden deep within a forest and it creeped you out at how dark and mysterious the whole atmosphere was. You felt completely safe standing next to Harry and holding his hand. He was warm and it warmed you up too.

No words had been spoken yet, only soft hums of a tune that Harry must be working on - seeing as you'd never heard it before. It was beautiful whatever it was. The eery night was so peaceful that you felt as if you had no problems left in the world. As if you mum was mentally okay. Your dad was still here. You and Harry were still together. What a perfect world that would be, but unfortunately some people weren't supposed to lead a perfect life. You were one of the unfortunate ones.

As you reached an opening of trees you noticed the lights shining more and more. They were becoming brighter and brighter the closer you came. Then it all started coming back to you. That tree - the one you fell out of whilst playing hide and seek with your dad. That bush - the one that you'd fallen in and cut your knee on whilst on a run with your dad. That pile of logs - the ones that you'd built many a campfire with, with your dad. And finally, that outlook over the valley below - the one that you would turn up at whenever you were sad with your dad.

It made you stop dead in your tracks.

"Harry." You whispered, finding it overwhelming that he knew of this place and how special it was to you. He knew that your father had passed, but you never really explained how it made you feel. You tended to bottle up all your emotions and keep them to yourself, finding it unfair to lay all your shit on someone else who might be going through things worse than you. This was uncharted territory for you.

"It's okay." He reminded you, bringing you closer in to his side with his arm. You appreciated him a bloody lot.

"No it's not. It's not and it's all my fault." You couldn't walk any further, not knowing where this evening was going and what Harry wanted to talk to you about. The guilt was eating you alive. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no. Don't be sorry. I don't want you to be sorry, Y/N/N, okay?" Harry made you look at him, showing him to observe the small trickle of tears rubbing down your cheeks. You wished he didn't see them, though, because you felt selfish. If anyone should be crying it was him.

"But I—"

"I know what you did, I was there. Front row and centre actually." He laughed, bopping your nose to earn a laugh out of you too.

"How c-can you stand being near m-me then?" You were confused. You mum had told you that Harry would never want to see you again - charming.

"Because I love you." Harry put it in a way that was so simple, yet one that made your heart melt and walls crumble. He was still yours even after all this time, really?

"You l-love me? Still?" You had to double check, completely lost at how he was still devoted to you after all this time. After all that you'd said and done. Of course you still loved him, that was a given, but him still loving you was a terrifyingly happy surprise. He always has had the biggest heart of gold, and he remains to live up to that title. You were so undeserving of him and his heart of gold.

"I never stopped, baby." He squished your face close to his, large hands concealing your face to keep you focused on him and only him.

"You can't mean that, Harry. Not after everything I put you through." You whispered, searching for any signs of doubt behind his eyes. There was nothing but love for all you could see though.

"Listen to me Y/N/N. The last few months have made me realise something. It's made me realise that you're too special to me to ever let you go. Even though you made my phone miss your calls and we hadn't spoke since you went away, all I could think about was you and how you were doing. You didn't look good when you came to my porch in London, and you still don't baby." Harry was being completely honest with you, needing you to understand the complex depths of both sides of this relationship.

"No, i'm okay." You tried to convince him, but lacked the evidence to justify the statement.

"When was the last time you slept for a good 8 hours?" Harry asked, keeping you close to him - afraid you may dash at any point.

"Um, well—" You tried to rack your brain for an answer, but the answer was so long ago it was long forgotten.

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal?" He asked again, this time his eyes gazing down at your body. Yes, you knew that you'd become skinner but you didn't realise it was that noticeable. Or maybe it was just because Harry always noticed the most smallest, most minute, details about you.

"It was, um—" You squeezed your eyes shut hoping something would come to mind but you knew it was pointless.

"When was the last time you gave yourself a breather? A sit down? A bit of time to yourself?" He pressed for an answer, but it was obvious by now that you didn't have an answer.

"I-I," you let out a defeated sigh, looking towards the ground in shame, "I don't know." You admitted to him, and to yourself. You know you should take care of yourself better, but it's been hard to sort it out when you're doing a million and one other jobs too.

You two stayed silent for a few moments, reflecting on the words that had been spoken this evening. Finding out that Harry was still in love with you, in the area that was filled with fond childhood memories with your dad, whilst coming to teens with your mental struggles was a lot to take in in just one night. You could only take so much and you'd be forever grateful that it was Harry by your side right now and no one else. Not even your dad could come close to the secure and warm feelings that Harry gave you.

"I'm not okay, Harry, am I?" You had to ask Harry for support in your question, not wanting to admit the truth to yourself alone.

"You're just a little broken, baby, but i'm here okay? It won't be like this forever, I promise." Harry swore it on his mums life. His hands left your cheeks and instead wrapped around your body protectively, making sure you felt the mental and physical stability of him being there for you.

"I'm so-sorry for everything, Harry." You apologised for not nearly the enough times that evening - well technically morning. If you waited long enough you could probably watch the sun rise from this side of the valley - it was something you dreamt about doing with your dad, but it was too late to fulfil that dream when the time came around.

"It's alright." Harry shushed you, allowing you to carry on with the sobs you needed to let out.

"Is it?" You questioned, still not fully convinced that it was.

"I'll be alright as long as you are alright, love." You could feel Harrys smile against the side of your head where he was resting it, making you slightly smile in return. "Just need you back."

"If you'll have me?" You offered, wanting him to be positively sure of himself.

"Always." He replied, using the same phrasing you'd done earlier this evening.

•••••

Sunrise.

You never thought it would be so beautiful and yet you were so magically lost for words. The way the sun caught its first few rays on the glistening, snowy, mountain tops was cinematic. The rays starting to warm up your icy skin was exhilarating, almost like it was feeding you life again. Oh how your dad would've loved this.

What was even more special than the sunrise was the boy that you got to spend watching it with. Wrapped under a layer of three blankets, your back against his front whilst sat perched against a thick oak tree, you got to witness a moment so singular and unique, with someone as equally unique, and you wouldn't swap it for a million pounds.

Harry had brought hot cocoa, with little pink and white marshmallows, in a thermo-flask to help keep you both warm. He'd clearly thought about this "date", you guess you could call it, with great passion. He had thought of everything. He'd brought bundles of blankets, the hot chocolate, an extra jumper for you - your favourite one of his in fact - and even a portable charger so your phone was ready to snap some shots of the waking sun.

You were positive his body was completely stiff now, most likely going to have crippling back pains for the rest of the week, but you knew he didn't care. All he cared about was you and that you were happy.

Throughout the morning, whilst you were waiting for the sun to arise, you spoke about everything and nothing. You'd learnt that Harry had been with someone a month after your broken up with him, but went in to a two week period of self loathing afterwards because she, quote, "just wasn't you". Apparently he'd almost said your name, to her, the morning after and that's when he knew it was never going to be anyone else but you. Of course your heart bled a little to hear him have moved on so quickly, but you also remember encouraging it so you couldn't really be angry.

You opened up about the grieving of your dad and the hardship that your mum had become. Although it was hard to hear, listening to Harry suggest maybe taking her to a group house for family rehabilitation, or something along those lines, it should be an option to consider. He never pressed you for an answer, but only letting you know he was here whatever you decided to do.

You apologised a lot more times and each time he shut you up with his lips. God had you missed those lips. You'd missed him more.

Harry admitted he'd developed a slight drinking problem and had had to stay at random hotel rooms, for the first couple of months, because he couldn't bare to walk around a house that was so full of you and your memories. The kitchen, where you'd prepared countless morning coffees for him. The study, where you'd read a few stories to him. The bedroom, where you'd spent many a night with him beneath the sheets loving each other until you physically could no more.

Both of you were extremely vulnerable and that's exactly how it needed to be.

To move forwards you vowed to be more open and honest with one another. Harry promised to stay with you for a while, up here, until he was comfortable that you'd be okay if he left you. You promised to never leave him again, which he was perfectly happy with. You also strictly told him that he wasn't to go near a bottle of alcohol unless you were with him, not baring the thought of having to send him into rehab for substance abuse.

The two of you had a long way to go to be perfect, but then again there was no such thing. You were just Y/N and Harry, and as long as you made each other happy, then that, in your eyes, was perfect.

[inkyquince]

anyway, Miguel O Hara

content warning. spoiiiiliessssss, stalker and creep miguel o hara, extremely dubious at all times, invasion of the grandes tetas, strong scent kink, rough handling, nsfw but not written sex because its 1am and im sleepy and october is showing me ds2 sims 2 gameplay and i feel myself going insane. oh yeah, and, big ole size kink.

spoilers for the movie under the cut, but yknow its horny

So, canon Miguel sees another version of himself get fucking shot, right? Immediately slips through to prevent a canon event with his daughter, right? Takes over the old Miguel's life. Born to be a single mother, forced to beef with a teenager right?

Well, what if he saw something else in his other life?

He's broken and he's lonely here, but... He has a kid... And he has a partner. And it's someone he knows. Married to a distant friend in this life, but you're his in another one. The one where he's happy, with his kid.

It's hard, tearing his eyes away from what should be. What he should have, carrying his baby in one arm and the other around your waist. His other self looks so happy, so content, so fucking free. Unlike him in his entirety, where he's alone, against the world.

Not only does he become obsessed with this alternative world, he gets stranger and stranger around you. He knows in another life, you lead him into happiness, into being a father. Miguel is usually quiet and stoic, but his presence starts being almost oppressive around you. He seems to stare all the time, his broad, lithe fingers tapping along his muscular arm. Intense and quiet, with something brewing in his deep, dark eyes. He tries to talk more to you, even try to see you away from your spouse, but you never start to look at him like you do in the other dimension. Warm and soft and longing. It starts to irk him, something growing in his stomach. You're fucking his, in another life, yeah, but you're his. But he can't do anything. You're not his. So it builds in his gut.

There's some part of him that believes he can still get this happiness in this world. He can still be who he was meant to be. Miguel spends some evenings climbing the walls to look into your apartment windows, to catch you showering or changing. He doesn't even need to break the window to slip in, the second you leave through the door. A pair of your underwear in his hand, maybe a venture into the bathroom to sniff at your shower wash. Pick up your toothbrush, just to rest it on his tongue. He sits on your side of the bed and rests his broad hand on your pillow, skimming over it, as it to help him imagine stroking your hair as you awaken in the morning.

This isn't what a hero does. He knows that. He knows that Spiderman doesn't enjoy towering over you when the group hangs out, drinking in the size difference. Loves the little expression you look up at him with, like a doe in the headlights. He catches himself dragging a tongue over his canine was he passed behind you, ducking down just enough to catch the scent from your neck.

A hero doesn't follow you when you go out at night. Watches you from outside your window. Doesn't think about how it would be okay if your spouse bled out in the streets one night, and he'd be by your side in minutes.

Each time it all feels too much, he checks over with his other self. Laughing with his daughter jumping into his arms. His other self's hand on your knee as you sit next to him on the couch with a yawn. The way it slowly traces over your thigh as he lean over to give him a kiss.

The feeling builds even more.

Then, the day happens. He watches himself get shot, and he leaves his other life behind. Steps through and becomes someone new.

That night, your husband comes home. Miguel seems to walk straight past you to go to your daughter's room. You were surprised, but gave it no thought as you continued to make him some empanadas, rain lashing against the window.

Miguel hadn't wanted to look at you, not yet. Needed to look at his daughter, needed to take a moment. He kneeled down, by her tiny bed, stroking slowly against her hair as she breathed softly. She slept like there was no pain in the world, no loss... And thanks to him, she wouldn't wake up to her father being dead. Gone. Unable to tuck her into bed anymore. So he just tugged the blanket up to her chin and stood slowly. Leaving the room, he paused in the doorframe, giving his daughter a soft look before glancing towards the kitchen again. Not yet. Not just yet. He needs to make sure.

Turning on his heel, Miguel headed deeper into the flat, looking around until he found the master bedroom. Spick and span, but homey. Unlike his old bedroom. Pictures on the walls. Things on both bedside tables. A blanket laid over the duvet. His dark eyes turned towards the closet, and slowly opened the door, exhaling softly. Your clothes. Next to his clothes. His fingers dragged along the fabric, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb.

A shaky sigh left Miguel's lips as he gripped the garment tightly, almost ripping it. Shoving the item close to his face, he inhaled deeply, almost tasting your scent on his tongue. It's you. It's no one else. It's you and in this world, you're with him. No one else.

Miguel's clawed hands moved on their own accord as they yanked open the drawers below the hanging clothes, finding socks, bras and... Underwear. Few pairs of his, few pairs of yours. Snatching yours up, he crushed them against his face again, inhaling with his lips parted. He got a dizzying head rush. His eyes snagged on the laundry basket, exhaling loud and slow as he smelled the scent of you and detergent from your clean underwear.

He'll get a proper taste of you if he rooted around in there instead-

"Miguel!" He froze up and immediately stuffed your underwear into his pocket, as if he was a thief instead of your husband, and very entitled them. "Food!"

He dragged his tongue over his lips and stalked from the bedroom.

Miguel was acting strange when he got back from checking on your daughter, his darkened eyes drinking you in as you served up his plate first.

"Hungry?" You gave him a soft smile. "She ate earlier at her friend's house, don't worry."

He wasn't worried. He should be. It's one of those things he'll learn to do, as a new father. But for now, he just walks closer, dragging his broad palm over the counter. His fingers twitch as the distance between you two become smaller and smaller. Soon enough, he's at your back, with his hands twitching before settling on your hips. You hummed as he drew you closer to his towering body, lolling your head back to rest against his shoulder (against, not on his shoulder, Miguel was too tall for that).

Your lips were right there. Perfect and soft and unbitten.

He should change that.

Miguel slowly lowered his head to brush his lips against yours, slowly exhaling as he did so. You gave a similiar sigh and leaned into the kiss, which remained sweet and soft, until you teasingly gave his bottom lip a nip.

The feeling in his gut burst.

He ripped his lips away, just to grip your hips tighter and spin you around. You blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden movement, but couldn't say anything before his tongue was snaking back inside of your mouth, licking at your teeth before forcibly pressing down on your tongue. You could feel his hard cock through his trousers, digging into your stomach as he manhandled you.

"Mig-" You pulled away to breath but he quickly covered your lips with his again, desperation rolling off of him.

"Solo callate." He hissed against your mouth, sharp canines digging into your bottom lip. "Por favor, déjame tenerte primero. Si me amas, déjame usarte."

You couldn't even reply when he shoved you down on the kitchen counter, sending the plates crashing down to the floor. It was like you were immobalised, stunned. Miguel was never rough with you, not really. He was always too aware of how big he was compared to you. But all that seemed to have been tossed out the window.

Your husband roughly yanked your legs apart, breathing low and heavy. Lowering one of his hands slowly, he gave your crotch a squeeze, as his cock began to tent the front of his trousers.

"Quieres que te toque aquí? Te gusta?" Miguel whispered, pressing his forehead against yours, slowly squeezing your crotch, his sharp teeth coming in as you struggled not to moan at his ministrations.

He was scaring you enough for you to try and pull away, but he was too fucking big. He encompassed you. Totally and wholly. Miguel's eyes were two obsidian stones, pupils blown wide and staring down at you with an endless hunger that wasn't there before. He leaned down again and you just pressed your face to the side, avoiding his lips connecting with yours, instead pressing against your cheek.

With a low, almost animalistic snarl, his fingers dug into your jaw and wrenched your head back to stare into your eyes.

"You will let me have you. You cannot take this from me. Not now." You struggled to comprehend what he meant, but he took your silence in stride and pressed his tongue back into your mouth with a low groan.

You cannot stop this, Miguel thought, everything becoming hazy as he felt desire roll over him.You can't make him stop. Not when he finally has you.

rough translations (remember, im using my high school level knowledge, so the grammar is fuck):

"Solo callate. Por favor, déjame tenerte primero. Si me amas, déjame usarte." - "Just shut up. Please let me have you first. If you love me, let me use you."

"Quieres que te toque aquí? Te gusta?"- "Do you want me to touch you here? Do you like it?"

[anal-queen-waifu]

OWNED

It's 1am. I kiss you good night and go to bed , spent from being fucked so thoroughly just minutes before. I ask you to join me but you say you are not tired. I fall asleep almost immediately, all those orgasms and overstimulation took their toll and now I'm sleeping like a baby. I don't know how much time passed but I wake up to you spooning me, your warmth seeping into my body. Your hand slowly reaching underneath my nightgown until it stops on my breasts. You cup them and I settle into you, ready to fall asleep again but your hand starts pinching and twisting my nipples. My breath accelerates and tingles go through all my body towards my clit as I feel I'm starting to get really wet. I squirm, desperate for some friction but you have no mercy as you continue to tease my nipples. Finally you start caressing my body as you go down and I'm finally hopeful that your hand will reach my needy cunt, but it goes up again and my pelvis starts moving on its own, begging you to make me cum. I go to touch myself because it's too much, but you grab my hand and finally, after you are satisfied with teasing me, you reach into my soaked panties. The first stroke sends shivers through my body and I am so desperate for release. You stroke my clit so lazily until I finally cum my brains out. I can't feel anything but your fingers between my clenched legs. You order me to open them but it seems so impossible. I have to find the strength to obey though so I slowly open them and it takes everything I have to keep them that way as you force my orgasm further. I can sense you can't wait any longer and bliss finds me again when you put your cock in my dripping, twitching cunt with a long and powerful thrust. I can't think of anything else but your cock going in and out of me, I can't feel anything but you pounding into me like there's no tomorrow. I can't think, I can't speak, I just feel and obey. Every touch of yours is electric, sends powerful tingles right to my insatiable cunt. Every now and then you stop to make me cum again and again and again. But your cock is insatiable as well and you pull out and take my butt. You are never satisfied with taking just one of my holes and neither am I. You tease it just a little with the tip again and again until I beg you to fuck me hard. So you oblige, as you always do, and I lose my mind as you start pounding. I wish this was neverending. Just as I thought that this couldn't be any better, I hear your rushed breath and your cock getting harder and harder and then I feel your release through all my body, your warm cum and your cock twitching inside my butt, which sends me into another orgasm. When I look at you over my shoulder, you have this primal, wild look on your face and I know that I am yours and no one else's. You go to pull out but I beg you with my eyes to keep it in so we fall asleep like this. You cuddling me tight, with your cock in my butt and your cum inside me.