#AND HE'S HUNGOVER. GOD BLESS HIM

[juniperskye]

I Never Do This.

Based on the following ask: Aaron wakes up naked in an equally naked stranger's bed after a drunken one-night stand (possibly leading to more?) but he's so embarrassed (and hungover) because he never does stuff like that. Reader makes him breakfast and coffee and tries to reassure him that it's okay, it's normal, etc. And that for a guy who was blackout drunk and doesn't even remember, he still performed very well in bed! @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 2909

Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, explicit description of sexual activity, mentions of alcohol, intoxication, mention of the BAU team and a case (no details), mention of divorce (celebrating a divorce), let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron’s head was pounding, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened last night. He rolled over in bed, stretching his arm out, to be met with the warmth of someone’s body. Aaron’s arm retreated back to his side and his eyes shot open, a new pain rushing to his head from the harsh morning sun. He found his gaze dragging down the expanse of this stranger’s body, she was laying face down, her hair sprawled across her pillow.

Aaron couldn’t help the heat that came to his face as he noticed your lack of clothing. He glanced down at himself and felt embarrassed at the fact that he too was stark naked. He tried his hardest to recall the details of last night, he didn’t do one-night stands. Hell, he didn’t do anything without careful deliberation.

He remembers going to the bar with the team after the case they’d just closed, they had all definitely deserved to let loose. He remembers the first glass of whiskey, and then Morgan bringing a round of tequila shots over, then the second round of shots from Garcia, then the next whiskey Dave brought to him and God, how many drinks had he consumed last night.

His thoughts were interrupted as you started to stir, rolling over to face him, your eyes still closed. The heat returned to his face as the sheet slipped, exposing your breasts as you turned.

“Mmm, good morning Aaron.” You mumbled.

Aaron couldn’t help but smile at your adorable morning voice, laced with sleep.

“Good morning...” He replied, mentally chastising himself for not knowing your name.

You could sense the awkward pause at the end of his greeting, like he wanted to say more, but didn’t or couldn’t. Your mind drifted to last night, he was drunk, truthfully you too had been pretty drunk…having gone out with your friends to celebrate the finalization of your friend’s divorce (her ex was a real piece of work, and it was truly a blessing). You had probably indulged in one too many green tea shots but this handsome gentleman in your bed had been a welcome souvenir of last night’s festivities. Ahh, that must be the reason for his pause… he probably didn’t remember your name.

You finally opened your eyes and scanned his face; he was absolutely gorgeous. You couldn’t help but admire his features as you reintroduced yourself to him. A small smile graced his lips as he heard your name.

“I’m sorry.” He let out a breath.

“No worries! You up for some breakfast? Oh, and there’s aspirin on the side table” You offered.

“Oh, um thanks, and yeah maybe. I just, I think it’s worth mentioning, I never do this sort of thing.” Aaron sat up and rubbed the back of his neck as a blush creeped its way onto his cheeks.

“That’s okay! I don’t really either. Pancakes?” You moved to get out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt and slipping it over your head.

“No, I mean it. I don’t think I have ever had a one-night stand.” Aaron reiterated, visibly cringing at how crass it sounded.

His comment probably should have offended you, implying that perhaps this was a common occurrence for you. But you couldn’t help but sympathize with the man in front of you. Not only was he clearly embarrassed about the fact that he’d engaged in casual sex, but also that he seemingly put his foot in his mouth.

“Aaron, it’s okay, seriously.” You moved to sit at the foot of the bed, reaching gently for his hand. “First of all, you have just as much right as anyone else to let loose and go home with a stranger. Secondly there is no need to worry, this is a judgement free zone we are both consenting adults. And third, despite being three sheets to the wind, the sex was amazing.” You smiled softly.

Aaron let out a breath he had no idea he was holding. “Thank you. Truly.” Aaron said, his gaze shifting to your hand clasped in his own.

“So, how about that breakfast?”

“That would be great.” Aaron moved to get up, looking for his boxers.

You reached to grab them off the floor, handing them to him before making your way to the kitchen, wanting to give him that bit of privacy.

“Alright I have everything to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon! Does that sound okay?” You looked back to the bedroom.

“That sounds amazing.” Aaron came to sit at one of the bar stools resting at the kitchen island.

Aaron watched as you flitted around the kitchen, grabbing all the necessary ingredients to make the breakfast you’ve promised. Reaching for various pans and mixing bowls. He glanced around your apartment, taking in the space. It was pretty eclectic, you had books, trinkets, jewelry, and clothes strewn about, not in a messy way, but in a way that everything had a place. You had clearly worked hard to make this home and he had to admit, it was really cozy.

As his gaze shifted back to you, he noticed you struggling to reach the box of pancake mix on the top shelf. He stood and made his way to you, his front pressing against your back as he reached for it. A soft gasp escaped you as he brought the box down in front of you.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Yeah.” Aaron nodded in return. “How can I help?”

“Oh um, do you want to cook the eggs?” You turned to meet his gaze.

“Absolutely.”

The two of you were in sync, working around one another while preparing breakfast. You had been making casual chit chat with one another and it had felt so natural to be here with him, no awkwardness in this moment. The two of you plated everything up and moved to your small dining table.

“You know, I didn’t mean anything by my comment earlier. About one-night stands. There’s nothing wrong with them, it’s just I don’t typically participate in them. I just, I don’t want you to think I was judging you because truly I wasn’t.” Aaron rambled.

“Aaron, it’s okay! Honest. I don’t typically go home with strangers either. Last night I was out with friends, I saw you and then they all suggested I take a chance and approach you. And well, here we are.” You let out a quiet laugh.

“I’m glad I’m here.” Aaron smiled. “I appreciate that you’ve been so understanding and patient with me this morning.”

Aaron and you ate while exchanging information about yourselves. He was an incredible listener and you felt so comfortable talking with him. You had to remind yourself that this might not go any further than today, so you needed to enjoy it while it lasted.

You had decided that Aaron’s laugh was your new favorite sound, and it pains you to know that sound are the first memories to fade, because his laugh was sweet like honey, and you so wished to savor it. You’d have to settle for the wrinkles on the outer edges of his eyes as they squeezed shut, how his head would fall back just a bit, and how the corners of his lips would tilt up ever so slightly as his laugh rang out – that would be enough to remember how wonderful he is.

Aaron’s stomach dropped thinking that perhaps his time with you was nearing its end. Your face had grown quite serious, and he wondered if you were ready for him to leave you in peace. He had been having so much fun, more than he’d care to admit. He figured he could buy himself a little more time if he offered to help with the dishes…then he would leave. He’d have to hold on to the warmth and comfort your presence brought to him, savor it for as long as he could.

“Let me help you clean up!” Aaron said standing and taking your plates over to the sink.

“Oh, thank you! You don’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” You smile at him.

“It’s the least I can do.” He returned your smile.

The two of you had silently agreed; Aaron would wash, and you would dry. This went on in silence for a few minutes, your fingers brushing every time Aaron passed you something…each one sending a shock throughout your nervous system.

Aaron moved to pass you a handful of silverware, his hand enveloping yours as he hands them over. You allow your gaze to meet his and felt all resolve slip away.

“Fuck it.” You said dropping the silverware in the sink, crashing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Aaron’s hands wrapped around your middle as he met your pace, you were relieved by his physical response to you. One of his hands was wrapped securely around your middle and the other found its way up to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair. He gave a gentle tug, causing you to gasp, allowing his tongue access to your mouth.

The kiss continued on for a few moments before you pulled back for air. Aaron let his hands slide down your body stopping only to give your ass a gentle squeeze before landing on the backs of your thighs, he gives you a knowing look before lifting you. You wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, allowing your hands to explore the hair at the nape of his neck and your lips to travel the expanse of his jaw.

He brings you back to your room, gently setting you on the bed before pulling your shirt over your head. You move to lay back, completely bare before him. He allows himself to admire your form.

“You’re perfect.” It comes out as a whisper, like a secret meant only for you.

He slides his boxers down his legs and makes his way up the mattress to you, scattering sweet kisses across your skin along the way. You reach for his face, bringing him up to meet your lips once more, losing yourself in him. His hands are caressing your breasts, cheeks, hips, thighs…they’re everywhere all at once, his touch leaving your breathless. Aaron begins to trail his kisses downward your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, breasts, stomach, hips, moving in to where you wanted him most.

His lips ghosted over your clit pressing so lightly. It sent a shock through your system, your body arching into his. He slid his arms under and around your thighs, holding them in place as he dove in, licking a stripe over your glistening slit before finding purchase on your clit he switched between licking and sucking, causing you to whimper in pleasure.  Aaron releases one of your legs, bringing his fingers to your entrance, carefully slipping two in, curling them upwards at just the right moment.

You couldn’t help but cry out his name, if he was good last night, then he was a professional today – you were sure that you’d never experience anything this good ever again (not if it wasn’t with him). Aaron picked up his speed at your cry, which he’s decided is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, so much so that you don’t even have time to warn Aaron. Though he’s not exactly surprised when your release gushes over his fingers, having felt your walls tighten around his fingers, legs shaking, fingers tugging his hair and your back arching up off the bed.

He removes his fingers from your wet heat with care and licks one last stripe over your slit before coming face to face with you. You’re a mess, skin glistening with sweat, hair simultaneously stuck to your forehead and in tangles at your neck from you writhing. Aaron sweeps the hair off of your forehead and behind your ear, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss. You utilize this moment to guide him by his shoulders to lay on his back.

You wedge yourself between his legs as you let your tongue drag over his tip, catching the bead of precum that’s gathered there. Aaron hisses at the brief pleasure – sensitive and so ready for you. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, the corners of your mouth stretching to accommodate his size. You lower your head down until your nose bushes the patch of hair at the base, holding still there momentarily. You let your hand softly grip his balls, sure to tend to them as you find a rhythm, moving your head up and down Aaron’s thick cock.

He was struggling to compose himself; grunts, groans, hisses, whispers of your name all escaping his lips as you took him down your throat. He needed you to pull away soon, or this would all end way before he wanted it to. With that being said, he tapped your shoulder gently to get your attention and motioned for you to come closer to him. He sat up to lean against your headboard and you found your way into his lap.

“As amazing as that was, I would really like to make up for last night.” Aaron said before leaning in to kiss you again.

“Aaron last night was amazing! But I’m not going to say no to you fucking me…” You said, blush creeping up your neck.

“Is that so?” He challenged.

“Yes.” You replied, lifting yourself to align his cock with your entrance before slowly sinking down.

The stretch was delicious as he was fully sated inside you. You started to move your hips as Aaron’s hands met your hips, helping to catch on to the rhythm. This position was so intimate, your chests pressed to one another, wrapped in each other’s arms, eyes holding contact, connected as one, moving in sync.

Last night had been sloppy. Getting tangled in clothing, drunken giggles, quick, messy, sex. This though, this couldn’t have been further from that. Slow, methodical movements, with a veil of vulnerability as you observed one another’s every expression, keen on making this last…making this a wonderful memory to be held onto for always.

It had started to become overwhelming to you, all of your senses were being consumed by Aaron and with such intense pleasure filling your soul, you couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes. Seeing a flash of panic in Aaron’s face had you leaning in to steal a kiss, expressing to him that you were okay, hell, more than okay.

Your rhythm began to faulter as the two of you neared climax. Aaron could tell you needed a little push before you could meet him in extasy, so he slid his hand between you, letting his fingers brush over your sensitive bud. It was all you had needed before the wave crashed over you and of course the grip you’d had on Aaron allowed for his own release, filling you with his warmth.

You sat there for a moment before Aaron shifted the two of you further down the bed, so you were laid on top of him, still filled with Aaron’s cock. Neither of you moved, save for Aaron’s hand that was tracing patterns on your skin, for what felt like an eternity.

“We should get cleaned up.” He whispered, his lips pressing to your hairline.

“Do we have to?” You asked, fully knowing the answer.

You were careful in removing yourself from Aaron’s embrace, not wanting to hurt him or make even more of a mess in your bed. You motioned for him to follow you into the bathroom, and you started up the shower.

“We can rinse off, get dressed, then I can walk you out…” You suggested trying to hide your disappointment.

“Okay.” Aaron agreed.

The shower hadn’t been sexual, just the two of you washing one another’s body and letting the hot water soothe your muscles. Once you were clean, Aaron exited the shower to grab your towel, quickly wrapping it around you as you stepped out. Aaron used the other hanging towel to dry himself off quickly, both of you heading back to the bedroom.

You each dressed yourselves, not daring to make eye contact, both afraid to say goodbye. Neither wanting this to end, this little bubble you’ve found yourselves in far too warm and cozy to pop…not yet. Not ever. You didn’t want this to be all the time you had with Aaron. You couldn’t let the opportunity to see him again pass you by…take the leap.

“Aaron, would you um, maybe want to do this again?” You asked, hopeful.

“Like I said before, I never do this kind of thing.” He shook his head.

You felt totally embarrassed, having must’ve misread the whole interaction. But there is no way, right? After all that, he’s going to pretend like there’s no spark at all. You could feel the heat taking over your face, anger and mortification alike taking hold of your body. But then he continued…

“One-night stands aren’t exactly my thing. I’m more of a formal date kind of guy so, could we exchange phone numbers, and then perhaps I can take you to dinner some time?”

Relief flooded your entire being so quickly, the tension falling from your shoulders. The heat slowly fading away from your face.

“I would really love that.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #jack hotchner #jessica brooks #haley brooks #haley hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you

[yourstrulyrika]

happy new year people. i disappeared for some time but i was farming for my babygirl ruan mei. also i have the biggest hungover so sorry if my fic below’s gonna be a bit rusty…?? but anyway!!

just look at her. i need HER

bdkdbdkdbdj!!! anyway to the actual smut now

characters — ethan winters, leon kennedy, chris redfield

type of fic — headcanons!! (i will write a proper fic one day no worries)

today’s topic: riding!

warnings — fem!reader, besides that none, it’s mostly comfort sex of some sorts because i looveee it, but there’s just a bit of angst in Leon’s and Ethan’s parts. mostly in Leon’s. also spoilers for re8.

Re8!Ethan Winters

— okay hear me out. after the whole village thing this man became PARANOID. who wouldn’t really? let’s assume you’re in place of Mia. he’s always over you after that, overprotective is not strong enough of a word. and you, being his beloved, couldn’t watch him stress himself into oblivion. and that’s where the idea came.

— at first, Ethan was a bit surprised. he’s a total service dom, of course he agreed, but you never really proposed this idea. not that he doesn’t like it!!

— so when you started peppering kisses all over his face, cupping his cheeks and kissing his pretty features, he let out the prettiest moan you ever heard. it straight out sounded *angelic*. and that just confirmed how excited he is beneath all this anxiety. you’re not even riding him yet, and he’s already the prettiest mess <3

— but when you actually took him inside? he’s sure he got *blessed*. that’s what he is. blessed. totally lost his mind the second you took him whole. and when you start moving? dear god, he’s so quick to cum, he’s a little embarrassed. but you comfort him and tell him it’s okay <3

— during the whole thing though, he’s always holding you. he’s never ever separated from you, nope, always holding your hand, or his hands on your hips, cupping your breasts or pretty cheeks and kissing all over you, just like you did to him <3 sex with Ethan is always so comforting to both of you. also, Ethan totally adores tits. like he loves your titties, no matter the size. just a thought <3

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy

— okay hear me out. i picked vendetta Leon because this man needs love. i genuinely love vendetta Leon so fucking much.

— he’s always so tired, doesn’t want to do a thing even when you’re around, he doesn’t even propose sex anymore. he feels *guilty*, like he’s neglecting you, but he’s just too tired to be his dominant self. he needs a break, and some love, desperately. and you plan on giving him just that

— he’s not sure why you stick around him. why you still love him when he’s a total mess. when you ask him to let you ride him, he didn’t know what to say. it wouldn’t be the first time, no, but it’s just— something in his mind. why would you want to do that? did you pity him? is that what this is about? but then you kiss him. and he agrees instantly, melting into the kiss.

— he actually got so hard when you straddled him. when you fished his cock out, it was already throbbing against his stomach. you started with showing love to him (and his cock), and he quite literally started tearing up. he needed this, even if he didn’t know that earlier. he’s not making much sounds, but you just know he loves it.

— he wanted to instantly return the favor but you made him just sit prettily and take it. he reluctantly agreed. when you start riding him, god, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman. an angel, his angel. just watching how your pussy takes his cock, swallows him whole (no re4 pun intended btw), your juices mixing — it makes him lose his mind. he actually takes a bit of time to cum, and you know, Leon IS observant . so when he notices you growing even a bit tired, he takes control and guides your hips. no denials, nope, you’re being guided, end of discussion.

— when he cums, it’s inside you, vulnerable tears leaking down his cheeks. you kiss all of them away, and Leon smiles for the first time in eternity. he’s so grateful for you <3

Re8!Chris Redfield

— HAVE YOU SEEN HIS TITS? HAVE YOU SEEN THEM TITS????? dear god im feral for this MANWHORE!!! he is a slut. a whore. himbo.

— when you proposed riding, he was like yeah okay, because he’s a hard dom, okay? he’s a dom. he’s controlling the place even when you’re on top. you’re still *under his control* when riding him. and it’s fucking hot. if you want him to be sub, tie him up. that’s the only way btw.

— anyway! when you actually start riding him, his hands NEVER leave your hips. gripping them so hard he leaves bruises, makes you bounce hard on his dick just to see your body bounce. specifically your tits. if you’re doing reverse cowgirl though? dear god he loves it. loves slapping your ass, loves watching it jiggle. it either has to be ass or tits, he’s always appreciating one of them if not both. depends on how you ride him.

— his head is buried in your chest/shoulder, lets out the hottest grunt there dear god. it’s muffled by your skin, but it makes *you* cum on the spot. he just chuckles, praising you and calling you his pretty girl. also. he knows you love when he rubs his beard against your skin — he does just that. he loves making you clench around him, makes him feel powerful.

— so we all agree that Chris is HUGE right? Like 8 inches or 9. (this is literally the most, more than 9 inches would actually hurt you. remember that big cock is not everything !!! too big hurts !!! smaller don’t!!) also he’s fucking thick. fills you up so well. doesn’t matter if you’re chubby, skinny, whatever, he makes a belly bulge every time. and he ADORES IT. he cums on the spot when he sees that. and the amounts of cum he spills out? he fills you up like you’re a cream puff. filled with cum that if he pulls out, you’re leaking it down your thighs instantly. and he’s so proud of himself!

end!

sorry guys, had to disappear for a while </3 back to farming honkai i go. wish me luck, i have the biggest fucking hungover after new years eve ahhh. ALSO! ETHAN AND CHRIS NEED MORE SMUT. PLEASE. IM DESPERATE DIDBFKDB i love all ethan and chris writers lemme gimme u a kiss. happy new years again btw!!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil smut #chris redfield #chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x you #chris redfield x you #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters #ethan winters x you #ethan winters smut

[justatasteofyourpoison]

The morning after the night before…

(A Hazbin Hotel/Alastor x Fem reader fanfiction)

Part 5

Pairing: Alastor x Fem Reader

Plot: A hungover you speaks to Angel and Husk to try to dig up more information about the Radio Demon’s past ruts…

Warnings: 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, adult themes, fluff

Word count: 1.1k

————————————————————————

You awoke in a haze, ears ringing, head pounding, face down in the pillow. You turned over with a groan and looked at the time - 11am. “Oh God how much did I drink?” you questioned, trying to make you body sit itself up in bed. After a triumphant effort you sat up and looked around the room.

You noticed your clothes were carefully placed on the chair in the corner, a pint of water sat on your side table and you were wearing your pjamas, things usually impossible for drunken Y/N. Someone must have got you home safely. You took a large swig of water, it flooding your hungover body with life like the desert rain and you could finally start to think. “Only Angel Dust would go to these lengths for little ol drunk me” you thought feeling incredibly greatful to be blessed with such a good friend. “I should go and thank him.” You swung your legs round to meet the floor and paused for a moment “I feel like something happened last night. Maybe some food and a chat would set me straight” you mused groggily.

As you put your dressing gown on and headed to the door you noticed a bow tie that Alastor had accidentally left in your room after a late night rendevouz a few nights back. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night’s antics. But then it finally dawned on you what last night entailed. Angel Dust was questioning you about your involvement with Alastor and how you were the first girl he’d seen with him. Your gut wrenched. You knew you wanted to speak to Alastor more than anything, but didn’t want him to see you so hungover and disheveled. You decided to freshen up and speak to Angel Dust before facing the Radio Demon…

The toaster popped with a clunky bang and you swiftly chucked the two slices on a plate, no butter today, dry toast and tea was your hangover cure. You exited the kitchen to the lobby and saw that Angel Dust was already sat at the bar. “She lives!” He exclaimed throwing his gangly arms in the air as he clocked sight of you. “She does, just” you said sleepily taking a seat next to him.

“You look like shit toots, glad we didn’t stay out any longer!” he laughed giving you a pat on the back. “Thanks for getting me back safe Angel” you said greatfully.

“Don’t sweat it hun. The amount of times I’ve ended up in the gutter I wouldn’t wish it on anyone” he shrugged taking a sip of his coffee.

“Angel…” you started sheepishly. “We talked last night didn’t we?” you said avoiding his gaze. “I knew this would come up” Angel said coolly “Look Y/N, I’m not gonna tell anyone about you and Mr Creepy Radio Pants” he said in a quieter tone.

“And I really appreciate that” you said genuinely “but, I feel like you let me into an insight about Alastor last night. You said how he never really dated anyone?” you questioned.

“Ah yeah no, he is an enigma when it comes to relationships and sex ‘n’ all that” Angel reflected “that’s why when he started sneaking around with you I was surprised. But you said how he’s in a rut, so I guess a man has needs right?”

“Definitely true” you responded. “But Alastor has been in hell a long time, so would have rutted every year. But you say you’ve never known him showing interest in relieving himself with anyone per say. So my question is - why me now? And what did he used to do while he was rutting?” You said gazing up at the skulls that loomed over the bar ominously. “Don’t get yourself worked up sugar. Maybe he has been off getting his dick wet in the past, who knows? As I said - he’s an enigma. You gotta talk to him sweety.” He said with a sympathetic smile.

“Afternoon folks” a raspy voice chimed. Husk appeared behind the bar and grabbed a green bottle off the shelf before pouring himself a small glass. The sight of alcohol being poured made you feel queasy. “Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes” he laughed taking a sip of his whisky. “Always love your honesty Husk!” you chuckled.

“You guys have a good night and stay out of trouble?” He said, darting his eyes towards Angel.

“Yeah good fun, some revelations too…” Angel chimed grinning at you. “Angel don’t, please” you whispered, your eyes pleading.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Husk said casually leaning on the bar in front of you and smiling wryly, “that she’s fuckin’ the Radio Demon?”

“DOES EVERYONE KNOW?” You exclaimed a little too loudly before slumping you head down on the bar. Husk placed his face by you head and whispered “Remember my room is next to Alastor’s. If you didn’t want anyone knowing maybe you shoudn’t have been so damn loud!” He stood up and roared with laughter. You felt your face burning scarlet against the bar. “I’m sorry little lady, me and Angel have had our suspicions for some time.” he said pouring himself a larger glass.

“She’s having a crisis cos I told her she’s the first one I’ve seen him sneaking around with. Got her questioning things…” Angel said trying to pull you back up from the bar. Reluctantly, you sat up and faced them. “Do you know anything Husk? Have you ever heard of Alastor rutting and going off with anyone?” you said quietly.

“Honestly, no” Husk contemplated. “The Radio Demon has always been obsessed with power and I should know.” He scowled at the thought of his deal with the Demon. “But no, I’ve never heard of him being interested in sex or relationships or anything. However…” he placed his head in his hand deep in thought. “At certain times of year Alastor had been more volatile, now that I think of it. He would bite at me over the smallest indiscretions and his broadcasts would be more frequent and more terrifying.” A shudder ran down your spine at his words.

“Maybe he was interested in other things. You know what a power crazed fuck he is!” He said with a warning tone.

You didn’t know how to feel after hearing Husk’s words. On one token you loved spending time with Alastor and the intimacy was out of this world. But what did you really know about him? Was your heart just blindsighted by lust and his charm? Did he have sinister ulterior motives? There was no doubt about it, you needed answers…

__________

All instalments:

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Hazbin hotel writing #alastor #alastor fanfiction #Alastor x fem reader #alastor x female reader #fanfic #Hazbin hotel Angel #Hazbin hotel Angel dust #Hazbin hotel husk #husker #vizziepop

[myheadhurtscutely]

With the Band -Rocker!Anakin Skywalker x Reader-

First fic, kinda nervous (>ლ)

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` Anakin, your not boyfriend, boyfriend, has been touring around the area lately, and for some reason he seems like he just can't not have all eyes (and hands) on him..

!Warnings! ` Manipulation, Toxic!Anakin, Gaslighting, Love bombing, anakin just being an asshole in general. Cheating?? kinda. ANGST ANGST ANGST, tiny like smut references??

word count ` 1.6k

You guys weren't a thing. You knew that. He definitely made sure you knew that. You were his thing though. You knew that just as clearly.

Anakin had been touring for about three weeks now. His band was still stumbling through here and there, small faults, technical issues, band arguments. You saw it all. You had been there since day one. In highschool Anakin had made up his band consisting of Obi, his bassist. He was a shy kinda guy, didn't say much, but when he did it was nice to hear. His drummer- well nevermind his drummer changed every few weeks. Anakin was as stubborn as he was handsome. He saw it as His band, Obi was the only one who could tolerate his attitude. Anakin of course took the role of lead vocalist AND guitarist.

You had tried to join your freshman year of college as the guitarist, but your best friend, Anakin Skywalker, was just trying to help poor little you stay safe and focused on school. He told you he didn't want grubby hands thinking about you, and perverted eyes, feeling you up. You were just a girl. He made sure you understood. You were reasonably upset by this, but Ani fixed that after a couple of after show parties in the basements of venues... more specifically, the bathrooms.

It started as just a onetime thing. Both of you were intoxicated and you did what two friends, who have had undeniable chemistry since highschool after some alcohol and bud, do. Hook-up. It really was just flings here and there, Anakin bombed a test? Your phone would light up. 'hey r u busy rn?' Sure, you had an eight-page paper due by tomorrow, but yeah besides that you were free. free use. Anakin's drummer he got last Tuesday cussed him out and left? Ding! 'i need you rn'. You couldn't deny you're closest friend comfort. It was a vicious cycle. You felt awful, you really did. It was like you knew what he was doing, but you felt like there was no way out.. besides, he needed you. He also needed the 18 other girls around campus that rotated shifts in his bed when he wasn't playing gigs. But he told you, you were special, he meant it surely.

This night was special. It was the BIG gig. It was in the middle of the tour, the largest number of tickets sold at one of the biggest venues they could book. It was downtown at one of the smaller stages meant for local artist, but it was right next to the college nearby. Prime market. young women. pretty girls. desperate college chicks. Anakin knew what he was after by the end of this show, but you follow him obliviously up the stairs with your "v.i.p." pit pass behind him. Your already ripped stockings tearing on the metal fencing up the stairs. Anakin only hauled his guitar, refusing to help Obi and you carry any of the sound equipment. It's okay though, it's just cause he's hungover and his throats a little sore. Obi-wan grunts, hauling literally everything known to man, amps, cords, a random bass drum? Probably belonging to the drummer that left this past Friday. You held drinks, bags, clothes, food, and some lighting equipment. Anakin insisted on a fog machine also, which conveniently got left at home two hours away. God bless you Obi.

You dropped your stuff and rushed to give Anakin a peck on the cheek, which he quickly dismissed annoyedly. 'He's probably just stressed out,' you fought in an attempt to reason with yourself. After giving Obi-wan a thumbs up and a wishful good luck, you are quickly rushed off the wings of the stage, to the back of the pit. What the fuck? You could b a r e l y see the rail at the front of the stage through the sea of crappy highlights, and slutty tops. Oh well, lights come up, Anakins standing there, soaking up all of it. The attention, the lights, the sounds, the attention, the crowd, the attention, the attention, the attention. Excitement boiled in your stomach. Seeing him in his white tank top, stained with god knows what. His box bleached frosted tips at the very edges of his grown out hair. Sweaty and shiny from the lights, he was a sight to behold. An image to have every man and woman on their knees begging for a peek. You and Anakin knew that.

The set started out with his earlier tracks inspired by the likes of deftones and superhaven. His sweat dripped down from his chin, to his angular neck. His adams apple dancing with the runs erupting from his vocals. No one could admire him as deeply as you did. No one could appreciate his stage presence the way you did. Like the way the spotlight, contrasted harshly with his tanned skin, highlighting his carved cheeks and white teeth.

As he continued, you began to push your way to the front, fighting as if it was a ragging mosh pit at a Victoria's Secret perfume clearance sale. Clouds of vapor and smoke raised high creating Anakin's own fog machine. Second hand highs at these shows were a guarantee. Still pushing past sweaty bodies, with heavy drums and piercing guitar pounding in your ears, you slowly became disoriented. It was as if it was all hitting you, the meds were wearing off or something. you were suffocating, drowning in a large sea, with your only chance of safety just a few inches ahead.

You grab the rail.

Consciousness is regained and so is your composure. Smeared sweaty make up, clouds your vision, but you saw. You saw clear as day. He had leaned down from the stage and kissed her. Kissed her. Right on the lips. This was his song about you. You were the one with the beautiful eyes he sang about. You were the one he made listen to the strumming pattern of it till you could recite it like a scale. It was yours. For once it was yours. From him.

Glitter rained into your watery eyes, what a poor style choice. If only you would've known he'd kiss a beautiful brunette girl halfway through his set, you probably would've chosen a more neutral palette. Chasing whatever air remained in the world, you gasped, running out from the exit doors. It was already late. The only light illuminating onto your back was the exit sign and a streetlamp on the other side of the alley. The bands van was parked crookedly in a nook between the garbage cans and the dented fire hydrant. locked. Yay! and it was raining. You started to think that maybe you were in a dramatic romance novel. The rain really was just unnecessary. Regardless, you rampaged back into the back door, left unlocked in case of a fire. Storming up the steps, you could hear the unplugging of a turned on amp, causing a shrill amongst the chatty, squealing crowd. Anakin's figure became visible from the wings, Obi-wan following in after him. Without a thought going through your mind, you ran right up to him and slapped his chest. His head snapped in your direction, with his attention previously being on the cheering crowd behind him.

"Hey! What the fuck is your problem?" His arms throw themselves up in frustration.

"Don't play dumb with me, you fucking kissed her! You kissed her Anakin? You, you said that wouldn't happen." Your voice quivered as he mumbled, guiding the both of you out the door and into the rain, away from the scene you had just caused backstage.

His arms swarm you like an unwelcome crowd of bats. clouding your vision. In more ways than one. You thrashed but only for a second before completely crumbling in the man's arms. Sobs stained his disgusting tank top. Your cries drowned by the leaving crowd at the front of the building, and the heavy downpour casting you and Anakin in your own little shell.

"You know better than to expect me not to push the bands publicity. It might be better for you just to stay backstage from now on. Or go stay with one of your other guys when I do shows." How did his snide words warm you so sincerely...? He was right though. You knew better. You couldn't be upset; it was for the band. After he made it big, he'd be yours and yours alone. You knew the deal.

"m' sorry Ani, I just-"

"Don't call me that right now. You hurt my goddamn feelings." He shoves you away from his chest. "I was having a great show and then you came backstage screaming at me, putting on a pathetic show like always." He knew where to plant his knife and how to dig it around inside you. It cut you up completely. Every time.

You couldn't do anything but sob. Every show you'd go into it expecting a different outcome. You were the stupid one. You were the idiot. It was your fault. He was right and you knew it. There was nothing you could say to combat it. You just cried.

He paused for a moment. The both of you standing in the pouring rain. You, staring at the ground as he watched the rain fall. "fuck.." you could hear him curse under his breath.

"I'm sorry Anakin. really." He said nothing, dragging you back into his chest, kissing your forehead, swaying the both of you back and forth. His wet hair, dripping onto your nose after he pulls away slightly.

"Look at me," he takes your cheeks in his hands, "It's gonna be okay, just try to be better for me next time 'kay?" He finishes it off with a soft kiss to your puffed and dry lips.

"I love you." He hums in a lack of response.

Notes ` first fic, longer than i meant it to be, proof read before bed, so barely, thank youu <3 (hell if its anakin skywalker i will let him act this way, sure young man, be outta pocket..)

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #angst #anakin skywalker fanfic #rocker!anakin x reader #myheadhurtscutely

[angelzai]

plastic jesus

i don't care if it rains or freezes long as i got my plastic jesus sittin on the dashboard of my car!

wc: 1.5k

cw: gn! reader, dark era, alcohol, smoking, canon-typical violence, dazai-typical suicide mentions/attempts, language, fluff, crack?

reid: kind of chuuya's pov? he is so done with you both. bless his soul. you may also find this on my ao3 linked in my pinned. enjoy :)

. . . .ᐟ

The only other one to have been plucked up out of the dirt by the demon prodigy himself was that brat, Nakahara.

Okay, he wasn't that bad. He was a brat, yes, but you and Dazai certainly played your part in influencing him, and it wasn't like he'd ever take your place. Reason number one on a long list: the kid couldn't hold his liquor.

Teikyuu, some PM-adjacent bar, was your agreed-upon (by you and Dazai; Nakahara tagged along with only half of his own consent) haunt for the night. The interior was dark and decently crowded, dingy but cozy enough to be homely through the air of bar-typical disgust; a speaker pumped out bass from somewhere or another - it was reliable, wandering eyes minimal. When Dazai insisted on a fourth round of shots of American tequila, Nakahara laid his fiery head on the bar, groaning.

"What's wrong, Chibi-chan? Chibi-chan can't hang!" Dazai took every opportunity he could to taunt him. He reached across your lap to shove Nakahara's head upward, outward. "C'mon, Chibikko. You're a fuckin' bummer." Three more shot glasses, packets of salt, and lime slices were dealt in front of you.

Chuuya swatted him away, catching you in the crossfire. "Fuck off, dude, 'have s' much shit to do tomorrow." But shit to do would have to be done violently hungover, judging from the ginger's current state. You wedged yourself between the two before they could embarrass themselves.

"Chu-chan, you're whining," you chuckled, and his face grew as red as his hair.

"Am not! 'M not fucking whining," he insisted, but it sounded even whinier than before.

"Then do this shot with me." You nudged the little clear glass toward him while Osamu took up his own. Chuuya grumbled out a fine. There was one problem: Chuuya couldn't shoot his alcohol no matter how hard he tried, especially when he was already drunk. He didn't understand what the hell it was you two saw (or rather, tasted) in the rancid liquid that made you so eager to down it so cleanly. Regularly, his shots dribbled from the corners of his mouth onto his shirt, or he'd only get halfway through it, and he'd receive a firm reprimanding from one or both of you about wasting the precious substance. He preferred wine, or if he was in rare form cherry schnapps, but no one goes to the bar to drink wine! The two of you would never let him hear the end of it, so he drank the god damn tequila.

The three of you toasted to "your mom," having dedicated your previous three toasts to "this dick" (Osamu), "being enemies of the state" (you), and "how fucking much the two of you make me want to choke on my own vomit and die" (Chuuya). By the time you had downed yours, face clean and unmoved, Chuuya was still looking at his shot contemplatively.

"If you don't want it-"

He took it.

"'Atta boy, kid."

Both you and Osamu watched expectantly, enthusiastically for the recoil. Chuuya's face twisted up, and you poked the lime in his direction. When he coughed and looked toward you with teary eyes and a red nose, you and Osamu giggled like children.

"'S not-" He coughed a bit more. "'S not funny, assholes!"

But it was very funny to you, and the two of you only laughed harder as he hailed a cup of water. Amidst your fit, you nearly tipped your barstool backward - Chuuya might've moved to catch you if you weren't being so goddamn insufferable (and his head wasn't whirling), but his stomach barely had time to drop as Osamu was clumsily wrapping you, chair back and all, in his lanky arms, so short of breath from cracking up that he was almost wheezing. After you were upright again you continued to laugh for such a long time that Chuuya, in his disoriented and half-dissociated state, thought perhaps you'd both finally lost your god damn fucking minds. He was going to have to find his way home, hammered and alone, all because you and Osamu were flaming inebriated morons.

And then you got quiet. And Chuuya grew genuinely concerned, because the two of you were usually anything but (he'd learned that well enough from living sandwiched between both of your rooms in that crummy ass apartment building for the longest three-week period of his life). But you were just being even stupider now - foreheads pressed against one another as you calmed back into the steady drone of the bar music, whispering some things back and forth that he wasn't meant to hear.

Chuuya gagged audibly, and it had nothing to do with the taste in his mouth.

An hour and three shots later, you slipped your poor bartender a generous stack of bills and stumbled your way into the street. It was beyond Chuuya how you two seemed to be able to maintain a straight line as you walked - he trailed a bit behind you, feeling like the unfortunate lovechild of a pair of teen parents. You stopped to light up a cigarette (also an American brand) and he ran into you. He wanted to push back at the way you snorted, but he realized you were only doing so because he was toppling and you were holding him up. He bit back his bitching. You were stupid, sure, but he did let you drag him along after all, and his blood felt too hot and his mouth felt too sticky for him to send shots right now.

"You want a hit, Chu-chan?" But he waved you away because nicotine probably would've made him yark immediately.

Not once in Chuuya's short visceral life had he ever seen someone fluster Osamu Dazai until you, and vice versa. It made him nauseous to admit it was sort of cute, but even further, he'd never admit it made him nauseous because, truly, the two of you found joy in nauseating people with how in love you were. Though he'd never heard those words out of either of your mouths, it was excruciatingly obvious that you were two sides of the same coin. You looped your arm around his, Dazai took the other, and he trotted along in his stupor with your help, sandwiched in between you once again (and equally as annoyed about it as he was before). The smoke never left your fingers but Osamu hit it often, lifted to his lips above Chuuya's head. You guys talked about something, but he could barely keep up. He was fucking obliterated. All he knew was that your words joined seamlessly with Dazai's, your banter flowed like dual-colored beads being strung alternatingly down a cord, and the warmth between the two of you made him feel kind of soft. He knew that later in the early morning he'd be hunched over the toilet - he could picture it vividly, you would be pushing his hair back, Osamu would be calling him a pussy but rubbing his shoulder every so often, and it would be horribly gross and embarrassing and he'd feel like hot garbage - and yet, he'd undoubtedly still get the sense that he was sitting in the backseat of a honeymoon car.

He looked up at you once in the blur of the a.m. and took note of how rosily you glowed, and when he turned toward Dazai, it was like a mirror. Chuuya was aware of that list, too, and none of you were idiots - no matter how much Mori pushed it, no matter what Twin Dark even meant, you alone were the sole complement to Osamu, the dead ringer, the only one fully cognizant of and attuned to his turbulent unpredictability. Perhaps that was why you were heading toward the water with him now.

"You fuck!" one of you called; he wasn't sure which. Chuuya was too busy crumbling to the ground in a puddle of himself, sweaty and pinching your cigarette between his fingers. When had that gotten there?

And you chased Osamu off the rocks into the river, current unhurried, undemanding against both of your bodies when you fell in. Chuuya didn't think too much of it when you bobbed under, because he knew you'd come back up connected at the lips - no, ever since you, Dazai hadn't really wanted to kill himself. Not yet. He knew it that day you all went to get high at the beach when you asked him to jump in with you and he hesitated for the smallest second. Not human? Chuuya wanted to laugh. Dazai had suffered, yes, but Dazai had loved. That conceded dissent in that beat of silence was the most human thing one could hope to achieve, and god damn it, Dazai had done it, with everything he was, in the face of the human he loved the most. He'd jumped in with you anyway, but there was no intent to die.

Without fail, you both walked him back home, drenched.

#bsd dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader #bsd osamu dazai #angelzai original.ᐟ

[teenwerewoofs]

🎶 I want you, bless my soul 🎶

Stiles first catches sight of Peter when he's video calling his BFF and college roommate Derek during their first winter break. Peter is hungover as hell from the holiday celebrations and looks like shit, but Stiles still can't stop staring. Derek can't help but groan, as he has only seen that look on Stiles's face when he's fixating on something and about to become extremely annoying about it.

Peter doesn't catch sight of Stiles until the next video call the following day, stopping in his tracks while walking behind Derek using his laptop. ("Well, hello there. And who's this, Derek? Introduce me."). Derek can't help but groan again, as he knows that his uncle can be equally annoying when he's intrigued by someone.

Derek suffers all throughout the rest of break and the next semester, as both his best friend and his uncle seem to be obsessed with each other and yet unwilling to actually do anything about it. He's getting really sick of both of them perking up like a dog who's caught a scent and inserting themselves into conversations as soon as they hear the other's name.

So, if Derek convinces Peter to come help him pack up his stuff and help him haul it home for the summer, but accidentally tells Peter the wrong day... Well, who can blame him? Stiles has finals even later than him and has been running on caffeine and spite for two weeks straight, plus he's been stressed about his own finals and overall running on too little sleep; it's an easy mistake to make. 😉

("Stiles, your date outfit is hanging up in the right side of the closet. You've got a reservation at Sicilia Mia at 8 pm. ... Oh my god, STILES, you're absolutely going. If I have to listen to either of you try to be sly as you ask about the other one again, I am going to LOSE IT.")

The joke's on Derek, though, because Peter and Stiles stay mutually obsessed with each other all throughout their relationship. 😏

cc: @steterweek

#steter #steter week 2023 #lyrics from t swift's 'i think he knows' #derek's relief at them finally getting together quickly turns into annoyed resignation #as he realizes that both of them are just Like That #but he can't be too mad #as it's obvious how much they both love each other #if only they would just QUIT TALKING TO HIM ABOUT IT #was this a day 1 prompt from steter week? yes. #are we on day 6? maybe so. #time is fake

[angelsdevils]

Draken x Reader

Title: Hungover in a Hotel Room Song: Hungover in a Hotel Room by Luke Bryan Warning: Suggestive themes, fluff A/N: Uh... hi I am sorta maybe kinda back. But I figured to give you guys this <3

Tag List: @omakeomuomu @thisbicc @chuuberrysworld @todorokistoya @penguinlovestowrite @bontensbabygirl @ddeadcalm @obeymesimp11 @pinksilk @leilalago @reiners-milkbiddies @winterv-black @bobateasilverpearl @jcrml @abellaheart-blog @supernaturaldreamergirl1130 @kittimacataclysm @sapphire-gemm

Draken has made a lot of bad decisions in his life and would probably continue to make them. But right now, he was confused and nauseous. A warm body was tangled in his arms. He was completely naked, and the person in his arms was wearing his shirt. He tried to get the memories back, but he could put a face to the body that was in his arms.

He rubbed his face with his free hand, as the person began to stir. He glanced down, removing his hand to get a better look at the person.

You sat up looking around confused before turning your head to Draken. It took you both a few minutes but both of your eyes widened at the shock realization.

“(Y/N)~”

“Draken…”

It was silent as you removed your hand from his chest. He let his arms fall from your waist and he couldn’t process anything. 

Your neck was covered in hickies and your lower half was extremely sore. You let a small whimper out.

That sound made Draken shoot up from the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hold on, you need to lay down. You look in pain.”

“Because I am, my entire lower half hurts,” you mumbled. 

He rubbed your sides and gently laid you down. He trailed his eyes over your partially nude body, before looking away.

This has to be one of the worst mistakes or blessings he ever had.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You asked.

“No, which is why I’m confused about how we ended up in bed together and did not realize it.”

You buried your face into your hands.

You just had sex with your childhood friend. How does that even happen? 

“I need to go to the restroom.”

You attempted to get up again, but Draken picked you up with ease.

“Let me carry you.” 

You fought back a blush and leaned against his chest. 

He sighed softly as he set you on the floor so you could do your business. He closed the door behind him.

You did your business before flushing and washing your hands. That's when you could see the number of damage he did. There were purple marks all over your nose. Your neck and chest were covered. 

No amount of makeup would cover this up. You opened the door, and Draken picked you up carrying you to the bed. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to go overboard last night,” he said.

 He traced the hickies that littered your neck. 

“I would say it’s fine, but no makeup is gonna cover this up,” you said.

“Let’s stay in bed all day, you need to rest. And I need to take care of you.”

“You would do that for me?” You asked surprised and Draken smiled and laid you in bed. He stroked your hair out of your face. 

“I am not a douchebag to leave you hanging… plus I do love you.” 

“Draken…” 

“What? Anything I said last night, no… everything I said last night was true. I have always loved you.” 

You smiled warmly and kissed him, cupping his cheeks gently. He smiled and you leaned up pressing your lips to his.

“I never thought I would say this, but thank god we got drunk last night and made questionable decisions,” you said. 

“So, I am guessing you feel the same way?” 

“Absolutely.” 

#draken x reader #fluff #suggestive themes #tokyo revenger #draken #ken ryuuguji x y/n #TR #tokyo rev

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Based on this. I know I'm supposed to be working on my WIP but this just wouldn't leave me alone.

They met in Heaven. Steve was barely even old enough to be there, wide-eyed and in awe, like every baby gay that walked into the most prominent gay bar in England.

Eddie remembered the feeling well, it had only been a few years since he'd stood there for the first time himself but from his spot on the dance floor he could see the vultures circling. And just like looking like a tourist in the middle of Trafalgar Square, it's easy to end up in a bad situation if you're on your own and don't have a good poker face.

Eddie’s first time he'd been with Chrissy, his childhood best friend and given his mum insisted she move in with them after her dad had gone berserk when he'd caught her snogging Jessie, he supposed that also made her his sister. That's just how she was, his mum, just so full of love and kindness and generosity and for someone who'd been through all she had, it always amazed Eddie. His dad was AWOL, never even spoke to Uncle Wayne, they suspected he was in prison given the amount of time he'd been gone. Not that Eddie cared, his mum was his hero, hardworking, endlessly compassionate, staunch and all in all just out-of-this-world.

And between his mum and Wayne and Scott, Eddie and Chrissy had all the parents they were ever going to need. His uncles only lived two doors down, so the five of them ate dinner together most days, they were an amazing support for all of them, had been throughout Eddie's life. He knew how incredibly lucky he was to have them, hell he knew just how blessed he was just to have a family that accepted him. But the three of them loved so unconditionally, they made amazing role models, not just to him and Chrissy but to Scott's students too, the couple just wanted kids to grow up in a different world to the one they grew up in. 

So Eddie couldn't in all good conscious just stand there and let this little baby bird get swallowed up. He didn't even wait for the song to end, completely forgetting his dance partner Jack or James or whatever, he just dashed over all overly friendly, "Hey! Where've you been? We thought you weren't coming!" He was shouting absurdly loud but it did the trick, prying eyes slinking back into the shadows. 

Steve was initially confused but Eddie used the excuse of a friendly hug to tell him he was attracting all the wrong kinds of attention. In fact, Eddie's pretty sure he told him he was "far too pretty to stand in the middle of a gay bar gawping like a newbie" but it didn't matter, Steve had just been grateful to be rescued. 

He'd only just arrived in London, he didn't even know anyone in the city but he just couldn't sleep until he'd at least tried being in the club, Eddie didn't need to be a mind reader to see Steve had found whatever he was looking for. 

Eddie knew how important it was to have a community, especially for someone new to not only the city but to themselves (he'd always had Chrissy, she'd been by his side through all of it, just as he'd done for her, he wouldn't be him without her) so he'd taken Steve to meet Chrissy and Gareth and Jeff. 

They'd all hit it off immediately, Steve was a sweet little angel with a razorsharp tongue, what wasn't to like! The five of them were fast friends who spent every spare minute hanging out together, quickly becoming a group of six when Steve rescued Robin after she'd walked into Heaven doing the very same thing Steve had. And those two were insane, it was like they'd been separated at birth, Eddie was surprised to find out they didn't share actual brain cells.  

And god they were all just so close! They barely left each other's sight those first few years, they got jobs together, flats together, had dinner parties and sleepovers, went for coffee and on shopping sprees, Steve and Chrissy even went jogging together in the park when they weren’t too hungover from a night on the lash, they were settled in their domestic little London life. Looking back, the years spent in their tiny shitty flat was when Eddie was happiest, just the six of them, skint and hungover but full of life and completely content.

The girls were the first to fall in love, Eddie was unsurprised, he knew full well it'd been love at first sight for Chrissy, and from Steve's drunken ramblings (which was the only time he'd spill Robin's secrets) Eddie was pretty sure the same could be said for Robin. Jeff and Gare had been fuckbuddies for years but they finally got together after Jeff's particularly nasty breakup with Danny. Jesus H Christ! Gare had hated him! Basically from the moment he'd met the guy, it was speculation amongst the others as to whether it was a problem with Dan or a problem with someone else shagging Jeff. Things came to an explosive end when Dan cheated on Jeff, in the club bathroom of all places! Gare was about ready to take Dan outside, probably would've if Steve hadn't got involved until Jeff calmed him down enough to convince Gare to take him home instead. 

Eddie had fallen so gradually for Steve he hadn't really even noticed it was happening until they were in Heaven one night and the light caught Steve just at the right angle as he was dancing and the realisation just plonked itself down in Eddie's head and heart, like oh! Oh fuck, I'm in love with him. Not that Eddie ever told him that, of course, Steve had come back to Eddie sweaty and panting and Eddie for the first time in his life, he'd been completely speechless. Then Steve had kissed him playfully on the cheek as an excuse to steal his wallet and all Eddie could do was laugh as he disappeared into the crowd to buy another round.

And it was all going amazing until, just as Eddie was bucking up the courage to tell Steve that he was kinda sorta maybe in love with him, everyone's career started to take off.

A random audition landed Steve a place in a boyband, where godforbid anyone is openly queer, the girls started a tour, and a summer anthem flung him, Jeff and Gare into the stratosphere overnight. And it was fine, love confessions could wait, they had time, Steve's contract was only for two years and who knew how long their popularity would last, they could be a one-hit wonder for all he knew. So those first few years, the six of them just focused on the music and making sure not to party too hard. They all really thought they’d done it, they’d made it big and they were happy, but it didn't take long for the cracks to start showing and then quick as a flash everything started to crumble. 

Both he and Steve ended up solo acts, the boyband eventually running out of steam and his band ending when Jeff and Gareth imploded somewhere over the North Atlantic.

Not that it took long until they were back to being the best of mates though, with that much history you either part ways for life or you wiggle through the awkward stage and be the best friends you've always been. That's how Jeff described it anyway and given they both eventually met other people, and Gare's godfather to Jeff's little one (who's two going on eighty, Robin keeps calling them an old soul, he's never quite sure whether she means it literally or figuratively) Eddie's inclined to believe him.

Chrissy and Robin were the only two who actually managed to stay together, both musically and romantically; they're set to get married soon, he's happy for them, he is! And he's excited to walk Chris down the aisle, doesn't mean he also can't be a little jealous.

Because he and Steve, they're still acting like teenagers! Sneaking around, texting constantly, seeing each other whenever they can get five minutes on the same continent, and as much as Eddie still feels blissed out from their whole week together on an equatorial island in the middle of nowhere, being a teenager is only fun for so long.

Musically, it's going great! It is! He's producing bigger and better than ever, which'll happen when you're completely free of creative restrictions, and it's great, but sometimes there's such a thing as too much freedom and no-one's there to rein him in or talk some sense into him when he needs it.

Steve's also enjoying his solo career, he's bigger than ever, freer, his fans adore him, the general populous prefer his music now it's just him and none of them are surprised by how huge he's become, it's rare that someone so beautiful is also an absolute fucking gem as well as a creative genius.

So it's all going great! And Eddie looks forward to every second he gets to spend in Steve's arms, whether it's hours or days hauled up in a hotel room together (or on the luckier times, at home together). Because honestly there's no place he's happier than with his Sweetheart but he knows they can't have anything more, they can only ever have hidden moments and undeclared feelings, and it's kinda starting to feel like it's killing him because every time either of them leave, Eddie's leaving a little bit more of his heart with Steve.

And he isn't sure there's much left to give.

But the group are all still best mates, so he can't talk to any of them about it, can't talk to his manager because she's practically married to the guy who just also happens to be Steve's manager, can't talk to his therapist because they just come out with dumb comments like "why don't you just tell him how you feel?", can't even call home about it because they just want him to get down on one knee and propose and he can't tell anyone outside his immediate circle about how he's feeling because what if it gets out?

So he just does what he always has, he channels all these feelings into a cover of a song he hasn't been able to stop listening to since he first heard it because it's speaking to him and this is the only way to make it stop.

And when he steps off stage after its debut and he's met with nothing but a whole twenty-four hours of radio silence, it starts to make him nervous, then it makes him jittery and then it just makes him sad.

So he's alone in his hotel room, like he often is these days. The only thing he had planned for the evening was waiting for the videos to start pouring in from Steve's concert because his fans are wild in the very best way. And he can't blame them; he often feels the same way when he sees Steve perform and something about seeing the videos settles something in his feral goblin brain. 

He's just laying in bed, channel flipping, eating Doritos and generally feeling sorry for himself when Nancy (his manager) calls, tells him to get dressed now! Chrissy has tickets for a thing, which should've been a massive tip off because one, why wouldn't Chris just call herself? And two, why is Nancy, Queen of planning every last detail down to the milliseconds, being so damn vague? But the silence has him all off kilter so he just does as he's told on autopilot.

He's dressed and in a limo and outside the stadium Steve has sold out before he even has time to register what's happening. And the whole group are there and they all have VIP tickets and yet they've barely said two words to him.

Eddie wants to ask what the fuck is going on but he daren't, he's a strong believer in not asking questions you don't want the answers to and he feels like he really won't want the answer whether it's a good or bad one so he just follows quietly while they chat about the terrible two's and trying to deal with stroppy wedding planners.

Eventually, they get situated and then the concert starts and for the first few minutes, Eddie stays shell-shocked in his seat but Steve's voice wraps around him like silk, like it always does, and before he knows it they're all on their feet, dancing and singing along, having a whale of a time, it almost feels like everything's back to normal but then there's a costume change.

Steve comes out in his full Danny Zuko outfit that he'd worn that very first Halloween all those years ago, and of course he still looks as good now as he had then. Dare Eddie say he might even look a little better now that he's grown into all of his features, now he's a little more muscular and he's got the swagger of a man comfortable with himself and the way he looks. 

Everyone's going mental, his fans, the group, Jeff recognises the outfit first and starts ragging on Eddie, with full mimicry and big eyes "but Jeff didn't you see him, he's just so sexy!" making Eddie sound like the chick from Aqua. They'd all been hammered that night, Eddie's surprised he even remembers, can't deny it though, Steve had looked sexy, still does. Eddie'd take Steve over John Travolta any day of the week, but honestly he's kinda glad for the teasing, that's just Jeff's way of showing love and a bit of normality feels nice.

Especially because as he watches Steve strutting around the stage, chatting with fans and waiting for the screaming to die down, Eddie finds he's actually trembling. Then Steve speaks, settling thousands of people by just putting the microphone against his lips, like he's got them all under a spell and god it's so alluring Eddie's starting to feel a little hot under the collar. 

And then his words float across the stadium, "A special song, for the very special someone in my life. There seems to have been some miscommunication between us, so I'm hoping this'll make things clearer," he tells the crowd, turning his attention to the VIP seating, searching for him until their eyes meet, smiling the smile Steve only ever seems to have for him and Eddie just melts.

He recognises the song immediately, of course he does, he knows it inside and out, knows it in his very bones because they've watched this movie together a thousand times, in a thousand cities, howling along or turning the characters into muppets or impersonating other celebrities because what if so and so had played…? because when they're together they can just be themselves, they can laugh and be silly like they used to when they were younger but to Eddie it never matters how he's singing, Steve always sounds beautiful even when he's purposefully trying to sound terrible.

But right now he's just Steve singing a song to Eddie, for Eddie, completely from the heart, in front of thousands of people, in front of the whole world and Eddie can't breathe.

Because how stupid could he be? How could he have got it so wrong? His Steve, his beloved Stevie, his Sweetheart. The years they've spent together! And yeah, in the beginning, they'd both been with other people, but it never lasted because really for both of them, it's only ever been the other one, probably from that very first moment, so eventually they just stopped trying, stopped involving other people and were just them whenever they could find the time to be together. 

And yeah they never actually discussed being together and that clearly wasn't the smartest thing to do because that seems to be what's tripped them up because in private they're a couple in every way that matters. He's Steve's, it's just a fact of life. He thought Steve knew that!

Their family know that! They don't even have separate families, for god's sake, they might all have different surnames but whoever calls it's always "And how's Steve?" or "How's our boy?" like he's an extension of Eddie, like they're EddieandSteve. Even some of their fans have cottoned on, creating their own little subgroup, with cutesy names and "evidence" of the length and depth of their relationship.

It's only by the grace of god and Nancy and Jon's (Steve's manager) careful planning and scheming that means they've made it this long without the press finding out, he and Steve rolling around in bed laughing, the night after they've walked down a red carpet together, even having the audacity to hold hands sometimes and just howling at how clueless the tabloids are, because they've only ever been seen as bachelors, bros supporting one another and as Robin has pointed out on many occasion, it's ridiculous that so few people have spotted the ridiculously besotted, gooey eyes Eddie always has for Steve.

So they know they're not single but somehow they've both got their wires crossed because he somehow thought he was someone to keep Steve's bed warm and Steve has given him his heart and assumes Eddie doesn't want him! And how after all this time have they managed to get it so wrong?

The song ends and Eddie just flops into his seat and sits in wonderment, not really hearing and only seeing the tunnel vision of Steve doing his thing, just trying desperately to understand how he missed the signs that Steve loves him and how the hell he's going to untangle the mess he's made. 

But before he knows it the concert ends and he's no closer to an answer and he's so far up in his head Eddie doesn't remember much else, just flashes of moments. Chris' encouraging smile, Robin's curled lip, Gare's arm around him, being backstage, his phone vibrating in his pocket, knocking on the dressing room door.

Then it's all Steve, his tentative smile, the shine in his eyes, his hair still wet from the shower dripping onto his t-shirt making glistening trails down his neck. His damp collar, his arms around Eddie, the sandalwood of his products, peppermint toothpaste and that underlying something that's just Steve.

Quiet, hesitant greetings in the silence, Eddie just opening his mouth and letting it all out, everything he's been holding in for so long, apologies and admissions and declarations, finally ready for the chips to just fall where they may, and he knows he's rambling, can tell by the endeared look on Steve's face, by the way he runs his thumb over Eddie's bottom lip knowing full well it'll stop his blathering in its tracks.

Using the opportunity to lean in, bumping their noses together, knowing Eddie will close the gap, will chase his lips with his own, will be thoroughly distracted from his thoughts as his whole world becomes Steve, Steve, Steve. 

Eventually they come up for air, Eddie sitting in Steve's lap, content to rest their foreheads together, just feeling each other close and breathing the same air. Eddie, unable to stop playing with the still damp hair at the nape of Steve's neck, can't quite manage to wipe the stupid, lovesick grin off his face. 

It takes a moment to register what he's doing as Steve wiggles Eddie's continuously vibrating phone out of his pocket, it had been ringing for so long Eddie hadn't even really noticed it but no doubt it's driving Steve crazy. Steve hates phones, he makes them all put them in a bowl when they hang out together, only Jon is allowed anything to hide behind but that's because he and his DSLR are inseparable. 

It's his mum calling, Steve answers and she actually squeals! She loves Steve so much, she has from the moment they met, she treats him like he's her son and honestly if he didn't know that that's just the way she was he'd probably be a bit jealous, especially when he's only ever home for such short periods of time and her and Wayne sit around the breakfast table gushing over Steve's latest whatever, it drives him a little crazy.

Steve had barely been gone an hour the first time Eddie took him home for the weekend before they both started practically begging Eddie to marry him, they've only become more insistant since Chris and Robin's announcement, luckily Uncle Scott always has his back, rescues him from their tinkering with a "leave the boy alone, he'll ask him when he's ready" which is only somewhat helpful.

"So it's true?" she wants to know, Steve kisses Eddie's cheek, hums an affirmative and she screams so much Steve drops the phone onto the couch with a laugh, it goes on and on, like she's won the bloody lottery, the noise coming through the phone only interrupted by Charlie barking, confirming Eddie's suspicion that she's at Wayne and Scott's. Because he loves his family but they're abysmal when it comes to technology and thank god for Uncle Scott because he's the only one who can handle anything more complex than a TV remote.

And it hits him like a freight train because that means this whole thing was planned, and of course it was, he doesn't know why he's only just realising that, but it means that Steve heard him, that he saw and he heard and that this was his response.

It explains why Robin was so pissed, explains why no-one had anything to say because the whole group probably wanted to bang their heads together because what the fuck after all this time, how were they still not understanding each other?

And Eddie can't quite believe his luck, because they've had this massive communication hiccup but Steve just declared his devotion to him anyway, not only in front of his thousands of screaming, adoring fans but in front of the people who matter the most, because yeah the public finding out had been a sticking point once upon a time but none of that had ever really mattered.

Steve declaring his love to him in front of their loved ones though, even after Eddie's massive fuck up, even after he managed to get so stuck in his own head, even after he let that song corrupt what he knew in his heart, he just couldn't quite believe it. Steve's just…

Jesus H Christ!

He's everything!

"Marry me," Eddie blurts and Steve looks surprised for all of two seconds before he's nodding a watery kiss against Eddie's lips.

His mum starts screaming again, "He said yes, right? Eds! Eddie! Answer me!" Then there's the sound of the phone being handed to someone else, it's Wayne, "Eddie! Boy, answer your mother before she deafens us all!"

Eddie breaks away from Steve just enough to grumble "He said yes!" into the phone before turning the damn thing off. They’ve had enough distractions, enough time apart. For now, he just wants five minutes with his fiancé in his arms, before she calls Chrissy and the maniacs come piling in.

#this just wouldn't let me go #these boys #i adore them so much #their communication skills suck so hard #steddie musician au #steddie modern au #steddie british au #steddie au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #platonic eddissy #background buckingham #background clarkson #background jancy #aj writes

[lunas-nargle]

↳ thirteen

chapter thirteen of "meddle about" series brian o'connor x reader

xiii. truth will out

Y/n was hungover to say the least. She woke up the next morning regretting everything she did the night before. She's never had a worse headache in her entire life, but she had to go on with it. 

Y/n sighed, walking through the door of her home. "Home, sweet, home." she said to herself, groaning as she laid down on the couch. Her peace was interrupted as her phone started to ring. She groaned, now in annoyance, as she dug through her pants pocket for her phone. 

"Hello." she said, annoyed. 

"Y/n," Brian's voice went through the phone. 

"Brain--"

"Dom got shot."

"Wait? Huh?" 

"Dom got shot."

Once the initial shock wore off, Y/n said, "Where are you?"

Brian sent her the address before she was off towards their location. Soon, she pulled up to a small hut-like home. 

She knocked a few times before the door opened, "This your way of keeping me away from him?" Y/n said, raising her eyebrows in question as she walked past Brian. 

"He was asking for you. He said you knew what to do." Brian answered, walking behind her. 

"Yeah." Y/n let out a humorless laugh. "I've done this one too many times." 

"You're a real dumbass you know." Y/n said, as she took off the bandage to Dom's wound.

"Yeah, I know." Dom mumbled. 

"Bullet's not in there." Y/n realized, inspecting it. She walked over to her bag and started rummaging through it. "Gonna clean it, and stitch it up."

"Yeah, yeah, we've been through this." Dom said, trying to hurry her up. "Just get it over with."

"Don't rush me, sir." Y/n sassed walking back behind him. "Or I'll leave it to infect you. Now, this is gonna hurt."

"I bet you're gonna enjoy this."

"Oh, man, I've been waiting for this for a while." Y/n smirked. 

After Y/n was done, Brian ordered take out. Y/n insisted she leave but Brian practically begged her to stay. Or at least that's how she wanted to think. 

"Uh, Dom, what are you doing?" Y/n said, as he took a bite. Dom gave her a confused look. "You reached first. You say grace."

Dom gave her and Brian an amused look, now remembering the rule. Y/n and Brian bowed their heads, Brian's smile not leaving his face as Dom started.

"Thank you, lord," he said. "For blessing this table...."

"With food..." Y/n helped him. "....and family...and friendship."

Brian's smile then finally faltered. 

After supper, Y/n went to the kitchen to clean the dishes. Dom was off somewhere in the house as Brian came into the kitchen. Y/n didn't realize he was there until he started talking. 

"I'm getting major deja vu, right now." he said, making her jump.

"Yeah, how so?" she said, her eyes not leaving the dishes. 

"Well," Brian said, walking up beside her, grabbing a towel to dry the clean dishes. "this one time, I had dinner with the most beautiful women and her family..." Y/n's mouth tried to smile but she refused for it to happen. "...After we were done, her family went to watch a movie in the living room, leaving her to clean after. When I was growing up, the cook didn't clean up after, the people eating the food did. But here she was, taking the time out of her day to do someone else's job. 

"As much as she tried to shoo me off, I still stayed and helped her. I had to, I wanted to. I would do as much as I could to be with her. God, my mind raced as I thought of the perfect way to ask her out on a date. But, she asked me something that just led me to it." Y/n listened with now a smile on her face as she handed him the last plate. "I then asked her. But she shot be down, saying she didn't date her cousin's friends. I was trying to beg her, almost on my knees. I made her laugh until this ape-looking man she called her friend came walking in."

Y/n snorted at what he called Vince, making her quickly cover her mouth with her hand. 

"He insulted me, which triggered something in her. She finally said yes to the date. Probably just to get back at her friend for what he said, but I didn't care much, I just scored a date with most beautiful, perfect woman I had the pleasure of being in the same room as." Brian smiled dreamily, as he recited the day he finally had the balls to ask her out. 

"I think I've heard that story before." Y/n said, walking closer to him, trying to bite back her smile.

"Yeah?" Brian drifted closer to her, glancing down at her perfect lips. 

"Yeah," Y/n whispered. She didn't realize they were that close, until she felt his warm breathe on her face. "I think I heard it, but I just can't remember when..."

Brian's humor faltered as her body was just inches from his. "Remember when you asked me why I let Dom go?" Y/n hummed, remembering. "I think it's because at that moment...I respected him more than I did myself." Brian looked down at his feet, before his blue eyes went back to her. "One thing I learned from Dom is that...nothin' really matters unless you have a code."

"What's your code?" Y/n mumbled.

"I'm workin' on it." Brian said. As much as she resisted it, Y/n leaned forward. She wanted, no, craved him. His touch, his taste, him. That's all she wanted....no needed at this one moment. 

Her needs were just about met when his phone started ringing, bringing her back into reality.

She cleared her throat, "Sorry. I don't know--" she stopped herself when she saw the concerned look on his face, as he looked at the name on his phone. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, shit." Brian said, as he heard a drop from the other room.

"When were you gonna tell me?" Dom said in a shockingly calm manner. 

"Dom, what are you doing?" Y/n said as Dom came closer to them. 

"When were you gonna tell me you were runnin' Letty?" Dom said, a little angry. 

"Let me explain." Brian said, trying to calm him. 

"When were you gonna--" Dom cut himself off by throwing Brian into a shelving unit, breaking it and the glass wear all together. He then picked Brian up by his shirt and pushed him into the wall, his hands wrapping themselves around his throat. Y/n begged for him to stop but he continued, his anger fueling his feral behavior. 

"You don't understand." Brian wheezed out, trying to push him away.

"I don't understand?" Dom said, his voice calm again. Brian broke away but Dom caught him, throwing him onto the ground. He got on top of the blonde, throwing punches. 

"Dom, stop it!" Y/n yelled. "Please!"

Brian locked his legs around Dom's neck but the eldest Toretto picked Brian up and slammed him back in his spot, unlocking the blonde's legs. 

"She did it for you, Dom!" Brian yelled, just before Dom threw another punch. "She did it for you." Dom stopped himself, waiting to hear more, his anger still seeping out from him. "Letty came to me to clear your name in exchange for bringing down Braga." Brian panted, wiping his now bleeding nose. The air was thick with tension, as Y/n's eyes sparkled with tears. "She just wanted you to come home!" 

Dom paused, looking towards his cousin. His face relaxed a bit as he saw the fear and sadness in her eyes. He turned and walked away, not wanting to cause her any more pain, though he felt more himself. 

"I'm sorry, Dom!" Brian kicked the leg of his table, angry with himself. "I'm sorry!"

#brian o'conner #brian oconner x reader #fast and furious #fast and furious x reader

[l1tw1ck]

THE TONY ANON MADE ME FEEL THINGS ABOUT THAT ASSHOLE. so now i will write some stuff more in depth about having sex with him. imagine youre some rich ceo of a company that provides stark with what he needs for his big ol projects,, n stuff, and because hes been making so many stupid investments (girls that cheat him out of his money and booze) he doesnt have enough to pay for the expensive items anymore. but you dont mind! you could very easily give him a discount, after all, youre so close, right? tonys glad that he gets this special discount, but when he asks you what it might be, he goes pale. you wanna ruin him- just for a night, maybe a bit into the morning if he feels like earning a few bucks. hes desperate, and clearly too hungover to think, and agrees. as creepy and strange as he finds you- he really, really wants that equipment, and he may as well have a good time getting it, right? wrong. hed stretched himself for the day of the "payment," quite adequately so. just in case you werent all smiles and big cash. and you certainly werent. when you take off your clothes, and show off what god has bestowed on you, he turns as white as a sheet, but soon afterwards his cheeks start to flush... why does he find this so hot? hes fucking some rich guy for equipment, just the idea gets him all hot and bothered.. normally he imagines himself in the place of the rich ceo, but being the recipient of his torture might be something interesting to delve into. but he doesnt have time to think- you pounce on him, tearing off his clothes and shoving his face into your cushy bed with his ass pointed up towards your already aching length. hes surprised, but not reluctant, adjusting his position to be more comfortable while you shove a finger inside of him. "well prepared," you comment, and fiddle with his little dicklet. hes rich, why wouldnt he have the money to take hormones? youre happy that he has, because stroking it is almost hypnotizing, the squeaks and shaking whimpers coming out of his limp body enough to make you leak. and so, once youve had enough of your teasing, you dump what must be a quarter of a bottle of lube onto his hole, and position yourself at his entrance. he expects you to tantalizingly slide inside of him, which is the cause of his surprised yelp when you almost immediately start plowing him into the mattress, grasping his hips with a bruising, vice grip to keep him from sliding into a flat position. he can hardly keep himself from cumming right then and there, screaming into the linen of your bedsheets to keep his moans from echoing throughout your entire penthouse. tony can hardly think, but he realizes that hes going to have to endure your pace throughout the entire night, and whines pitifully when his first orgasm approaches at a disturbingly fast speed, his gut coiling into a tight knot thats almost painful. its when you latch onto his neck with a hard bite for more leverage that he squirts all over your bed, staining it with his sloppy juices. and that pisses you off only slightly- youre too focused on making this the most memorable "experience" hes ever had. your balls start clenching sooner than you want them to, and you groan into the skin of his nape when you empty yourself in his awaiting, squeezing walls, painting his insides white with your cum. you pant atop him for a short while, but what disturbs tony the most is how quickly your cock hardens once more, releasing a whiny moan muffled in toyour soiled bedsheets. (hope you enjoyed this, bc i sure did enjoy writing it (i like to horny rant about men, it is very relaxing))

-💢

im being blessed today😭💕💕

#wick🕯speaks

[hollywoodxwhore]

wanted - part 9

Colson x Original Female Character x Pete

...Although it's been just Colson lately. Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I get in my head thinking no one reads my stuff or likes my stuff if they do read it, but a sweet anon reminded me that I should keep posting this series. Enjoy the next part!

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, alcohol usage/talk of hangovers

I wake up with a nasty hangover the next morning. 

I don’t even notice it before I get out of bed. All I notice is Colson beside me, one large hand resting on his bare chest. His head is tilted to the side, and his pale eyelashes glow in the sunlight that’s managed to peek out from behind his blinds. My heart flutters at the sight of him, and then the sensation moves lower when I remember last night: his hands all over me, his words in my ear, the feeling of him hard against me. I shiver at the thought.

I get out of bed to pee, and as soon as I stand, my hand flies to my head as I wince, spinning slightly. My head immediately starts to pound and I curse silently, keeping my hand on the wall as I stumble to his bathroom. 

I keep my eyes closed and the light off almost the entire time I'm in the bathroom. Ibuprofen, down the hatch, teeth brushed. I cautiously tiptoe to the kitchen, glancing at the clock to see it’s just after 10. I squint into the fridge, searching for something to eat, but fuck, there’s nothing. I groan, resting my head against the fridge door, closing my eyes. I need to eat soon or I’m going to throw up.

I’m so out of it that it takes a moment to register the sounds I’m hearing: the mechanic whir of the garage door opening, the slam of a car door, the scrape of a key in the lock. I close the fridge and turn just in time to see Pete walking through the door with several bags of McDonald’s. 

He looks up and meets my eyes, smiling. “Hey,” he says. “I have coffee in the car. Will you help?”

I nod, taking the bags from his hands so he can retrieve the coffees. My mouth waters at the warm, greasy scent wafting from the bags. I set them on the counter, then sink onto a barstool and put my head in my hands, stifling a soft groan. 

Pete returns and sets a coffee in front of me. He taps the straw on the counter, popping it through its wrapper, and sticks it into my coffee. I nod gratefully and take a few long chugs. As I do, Pete withdraws a sandwich and a hashbrown from one of the bags and sets them before me. I unpeel the McGriddles sandwich as Pete opens his own food and we eat in silence for a few minutes. 

“Crazy how quick greasy food makes you feel better when you’re hungover, isn’t it?” I ask, looking up at Pete before taking another bite.

He nods, wiping his face with a napkin, and swallows his food. “Exactly why I went and grabbed food,” he says. “I knew everyone would need grease.”

“And coffee,” I add. “God bless you for the coffee.”

Pete chuckles and holds up his drink in a cheers before swallowing some down. I watch him as he does, and my mind is muddled from last night’s alcohol, but I feel a pang in my chest. I miss Pete. Maybe we weren’t meant to be anything more than friends and maybe we never should have hooked up. Either way, I miss him. 

He notices I’m looking at him after a moment and he sets his coffee down. “What?” he asks self-consciously.

I shrug. “I just miss you,” I admit quietly. 

Pete is still for a moment, but then he nods, sighing softly as he looks down at his coffee. He draws a finger through the condensation on the plastic cup and then drums his fingers on the counter. “Me too,” he mutters. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up.”

“I just want to know what happened,” I say, even though I’m not sure I actually do. But I need to be able to move on from it. I can’t start anything with Colson still hanging onto residual feelings for Pete.

Pete sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Like I said. I’m a fuck up,” he repeats, meeting my eyes. “I had a great time that night. Trust me, I did.” My cheeks flush and I look away, busying myself with taking care of my trash. “I have a lot of issues, Alex.”

I look up at him again. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Pete bites his lip. “I have BPD. Do you know what that is?” I nod. Pete sighs. “It makes it really difficult to have relationships. Friendships, too. Sometimes…it’s just easier for me to be alone so I don’t hurt other people. I’m medicated and shit, but it’s just easier.”

I frown, considering this as I watch him. Poor Pete. Crohn’s Disease, BPD. I know he has depression and anxiety, too. I also know he lost his dad when he was young. He’s such a sweet guy and he’s been through so much. Suddenly I feel guilty for being so angry and hurt by him. It wasn’t about me at all. 

“Pete,” I say, shifting in my chair. I get to my feet and go over to him. He turns to face me, looking down at me with guarded eyes. I look up at him, putting my hand on his arm. “You deserve relationships and friendships just like everyone else. It’s…not really up to you to decide if someone should want to be with you or not.”

Pete shrugs, giving me a wobbly smile. “Nah, trust me. It’s better for everyone,” he says. 

I shake my head. “I hope you change your mind on that someday,” I say.

Pete nods, then hangs his head. “I’m just really sorry, Alex,” he croaks.

I sigh softly and pat his cheek. “It’s okay, Pete,” I say. “I forgive you. Can we please just be friends again? I’m sick of the awkwardness.”

Pete lets out a breath and nods quickly. “Please,” he says. With that, I wrap him in a tight hug and he rocks me a bit. My heart squeezes in my chest, mourning what I’d once hoped could’ve been a relationship, but happy that at least we can have our friendship again.

At home later, I take a long shower, put on comfy clothes, and order a pizza. There’s now a pizza graveyard on my coffee table beside my propped up feet, and my laptop is balanced on my lap as I type furiously. Inspiration struck while I was in the shower and I’ve gotten a ton of writing done in the last few hours. I finish a chapter, feeling almost breathless, and remove my hands from the keys, staring at the screen. A little grin plays on my lips. 

I close my laptop and stretch out, but nearly jump out of my skin when someone knocks on my door. I freeze, tapping the screen of my phone to see that it’s 9:34 PM. Who would be here that late? I get up and tiptoe to the door, peeking through the peephole. My heart flutters when I see who it is.

I open my door, trying not to smile too big, but Colson grins widely when he sees me. “Hey,” he says. He wears a hoodie with the hood over his head and matching sweats, Converse on his feet. He looks adorable and cozy and I just want to hug him.

“Hey,” I greet. “What are you doing here?”

“I texted you and you didn’t answer,” he explains, “so I thought I’d just come over.”

“Oh,” I say, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was writing. Got distracted.”

Colson nods. “I get that.”

“Come in,” I say, stepping out of the way so he can come in. He bends to take off his shoes and I hurry to clean the place up a bit. “I have leftover pizza.”

“I ate,” Colson says. “Thanks, though.”

I carry the empty boxes to the kitchen and discard them on the counter before going back into the living room where Colson stands, hands in his pockets. “Want to sit down?” I ask, moving my laptop off the couch. Colson plops onto the couch and I sit beside him, curling my feet under my body. 

I check my phone, smiling sheepishly at Colson’s series of texts.

What’s up

Want to do something?

Alexxxxx I’m bored

Are you alive?

Answer or I’m coming over to do a wellness check 

There’s no way you’re not dead

I’m coming over

I laugh and lock my phone, leaning over to set it on the coffee table. “Could you be more dramatic?” I tease him.

Colson grins widely. I like his teeth. The top ones are so straight but the bottom ones are a little crooked, which offsets the pure perfection that is his face. “What kind of a friend would I be,” he says, “if I thought you were dead and I just ignored it?”

I roll my eyes but I’m smiling. I scoot closer to him, draping my legs over his lap. He drops his arm off the back of the couch and wraps it around my waist instead, pulling me closer. My smile fades as he turns his face toward mine. We’re close, so close that I can almost taste the mint on his breath. His eyes study mine for a long few moments, the only thing moving his jaw as he chews his gum. My breath hitches when he leans in and kisses me.

This kiss is softer than any of last night’s kisses. It’s slow and lingering, needy as he goes back for more, and I give right into it. My head feels so light as his hand drops to my thigh, rubbing it gently and slowly, and I push my hand into his hair. He makes a soft sound and I pull my legs off his lap so I can straddle him instead.

He reacts immediately, hands dropping to my ass, and I’m instantly grateful for my long, luxurious shower earlier where I shaved absolutely everything, exfoliated, and moisturized with my best smelling lotion. I glide my tongue into his mouth and he sighs, the sound shooting right between my legs. “Alex,” he breathes, and I’m helpless to stop the whimper that drips from my lips.

“Fuck, tell me you’re sober,” I say in a rush of breath, holding his face and kissing him some more.

Colson laughs into my mouth, a low and warm sound as he steadies his hands on my hips. “What?”

“You told me,” I murmur, nipping at his bottom lip, “that you didn’t want to be distracted the first time you touched me.”

Colson lets out a low, humming groan that trickles down my spine, and I press myself tighter to him, feeling the way the underside of his cock is nestled right against my pussy. He’s hard already, and god, I want him. I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life. 

“Completely sober,” he finally says, running his hands slowly through my hair, tipping my head back as he does. My breath hitches when his warm, wet mouth finds my neck. Goosebumps cover my skin at the sensation, my hips hitching forward. “God, I want you so bad.”

“M-me too,” I gasp. “Colson-”

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes, and the use of the name baby has me melting in his arms. His teeth graze my neck and my eyes roll back. He feels so fucking good that my mind is almost empty, but then it rushes at me like a freight train. 

Colson wants to fuck me, and I’m basically a virgin.

“Alex, hey,” Colson says, feeling me tense on his lap. His brow furrows as he studies my face. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, swallowing hard. This is embarrassing. Such a mood killer. But he needs to know, because I’m definitely going to freak out, and it’s going to hurt. He’s big. I can feel it. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says, cupping my face in his big hands. 

“Colson,” I say. One of his thumbs grazes over my swollen bottom lip and the gesture sends a wave of desire between my legs. God, I want him, but I’m so scared. Guys don’t want to be with virgins. They’re worried we’ll get attached. Even though I’m not a virgin, I might as well be.

Colson moves me off his lap then, and I feel rejected, so rejected, until he pulls me into his side and kisses my head. “Talk to me,” he encourages me. “You’re okay. I promise.”

He’s so sweet. I never knew Colson had a sweet side. The duality of him is a little dizzying. What if this is just a phase? What if he’s going to be sweet for a while and then ghost me, just like Pete?

“Your thoughts are loud as hell, girl,” Colson says with a gentle laugh. “C’mon. Talk to me.”

“I’ve only had sex one time,” I blurt finally. 

Colson pulls back just a little to look down at me. “Wait, really?” he asks.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Remember how I told you I’ve never really felt wanted?” He nods. “That wasn’t for no reason.”

Colson frowns, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Have you had a boyfriend?”

I shrug. “Kind of. Not really.” I feel so stupid. I should’ve just shut up and let him have his way with me. But I can’t do that. I’m too scared, too broken. Stupid, broken, unwanted Alex. 

Colson’s frown deepens. “That shocks me,” he says.

“Why?” I ask, shrugging. 

“Because,” Colson says. “You’re smart. Funny. Beautiful.” He leans in to kiss me softly. 

“Yeah, well, not many guys seem to think so,” I mutter bitterly, burying my face against his neck. 

“Then they’re fucking stupid,” Colson says. The sternness of his tone surprises me and I pull back to look at him. He’s looking right back at me, eyes fierce. “Forget about them. I think so. I can’t keep my fucking mind off you.”

“Colson,” I say. “What is this? What are we doing?”

Colson blinks. “What do you want to be doing?”

I shrug, too scared to admit it. “I don’t know,” I say quietly. 

“How do you feel about me?” he asks.

“You first.”

Colson smiles, eyes crinkling. He rests his head back against the couch and looks off thoughtfully. “I haven’t had feelings for anyone in a very, very long time,” he says. My stomach flips. Could he have feelings for me? He rolls his head a bit to look at me. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. A lot of processing with my therapist.”

“You go to therapy?” I ask.

Colson nods.

“Oh. That’s awesome,” I say, relaxing slightly. 

“You told me recently that I’m an asshole to you when others are around,” he continues. “My therapist called my ass out.” He laughs a little. “Said I’m like a fifth grader on the playground, picking on girls I find cute.”

My brow furrows. “What?” I ask.

Colson looks at me. “I did that because I’m emotionally stunted,” he says, “and because I like you and didn’t know how to process it.”

I’m quiet for a long moment. “You…like me?” I ask, pausing between each word.

Colson chuckles and nods, stroking his thumb over my cheek. “Yes, Alex. I do.” I can’t help the smile that takes over my face and I hide it behind my fist. Colson laughs and hugs me closer, kissing my forehead. 

“I…I like you, too,” I admit. “As much as I want to be mad at you for being an asshole, I do. I really do.”

Colson smiles at me and shakes his head, eyes shining. He leans in to kiss me hard, taking my breath away, and I’m smiling so big that it’s hard to kiss him back. But when he settles me on my back and crawls on top of me, my smile melts into need and I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“Alex,” he murmurs between kisses. I hum in response, drunk off his lips and the way his body moves with mine. “Alex,” he repeats. “We’ll go as far as you want to, baby.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding. He smiles at me and I smile back, feeling relaxed and safe. Colson likes me. I can’t believe he actually likes me. It feels too good to be true. 

“Can we go to your room?” Colson asks. “I can’t stop thinking about being in your bed with you. So hard not to touch you last time.”

I nod and kiss him again. “Please.”

Colson scoops me off the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist, and I kiss his neck as he carries me, noticing the way his scruff feels slightly rough against my lips. He pauses inside my room, hands on my ass, and kisses me hard, all teeth on my lip and tongue in my mouth. I moan helplessly and he walks me into the wall. I grind myself obscenely against him, unable to help myself. With my back against the wall, he grinds forward, giving me the friction I so desperately need. “Colson,” I gasp. 

He groans into my mouth and spins me around, dropping me onto my bed. The lights are off but my fairy lights are on, giving the room a cozy glow. I pull him closer, sliding my hands under his sweatshirt to feel his skin, the hardness of his abs paired with the smoothness of his skin. 

His lips break away from mine and my breath is shaky as he kisses along my jaw and down onto my neck. His thumb slides up the column of my neck and I shiver, pressing my thighs into his hips. I feel his fingers at the hem of my sweater and he lifts his eyes to mine. “Can I take this off?” he whispers, and I nod. I arch my back to help him remove my sweater, leaving me in a cozy bralette. He lets out a breath and smooths his hands down my sides. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. 

My eyes close as his lips find my collarbones, kissing them gently, moving down between my breasts. My back arches as he tugs down the cups of my bralette, wrapping his lips around one of my nipples. My cheeks are burning but it feels so good, too good, and my insecurities fade as pleasure blooms in my stomach. “Colson,” I gasp.

“God,” he moans, moving to my other breast. I whine as his teeth graze my hardened nipple. “You’re so fucking sexy. Alex.” His lips are on my stomach now, moving slowly. “Baby. Please.” He lifts his head to look up at me. “Let me taste you.”

My stomach lurches, a mix of desire and fear, but I nod. I can trust Colson. He likes me. He wants me. I tug at his sweatshirt and he gets the idea, shedding it and tossing it to the floor. I admire his body as his hands work at the tie of my joggers. I lift my hips as he tugs the soft material down my legs, his eyes all over me like he’s trying to memorize me. My thighs are pushed upwards as he settles between them, letting them rest on his shoulders.

His face is even with my pussy and I barely breathe as he gently kisses my inner thigh. My heart is pounding so hard that he must be able to hear it or feel it radiating through my body. My breath hitches when his hand rests on my hip, his thumb grazing lightly over my clit through my panties. I’m so sensitive, so desperate for his touch that my hips twitch upwards.

Colson lets out a little breathless laugh and leans in to press a kiss over my panties. I whimper softly and close my eyes, cheeks flushing with a mix of pleasure and nerves. I feel the wet warmth of his tongue against me, and the friction of that combined with the fabric of my panties is overwhelming in the best way. I squirm, a chill rolling down my spine as my hips move against him. 

Colson pulls back after a moment to pull my panties slowly down my legs. He lets out a short breath when he returns between my legs, just looking at me. I try to press my legs together, self-conscious, but Colson gives a little shake of his head, clutching my thighs to keep them apart. “Don’t,” he says huskily. “You’re fucking beautiful. Fuck.” He moans and leans in, licking a slow stripe up me that sends a shudder rolling through my body. I’ve never liked this before. It always felt awkward and weird and gave me no pleasure. It’s clear, yet again, that I was with the wrong people. 

Because it doesn’t take very long before I’m worked up, my shoulders lifted off the bed as I grind up into Colson’s mouth, my hand wound in his shaggy, blonde hair. I can’t stop making noise - little, breathless sounds, gasps and moans that leave my mouth of their own volition. Colson knows what he’s doing, and I never knew it could feel like this. He encourages me, moaning every time I move against him, squeezing my thigh whenever I moan. It’s clear he loves this, goes crazy for it, and that helps me relax and give into the pleasure. 

When Colson’s thick fingers slide inside me, I’m gone. My back arches and I let out a broken moan, sounding almost pained, surprising even myself. The wet sounds filling the room are lewd but I can’t even bring myself to care because I’m so wrapped up in a pleasure I’ve never felt before. Colson’s fingers curve inside me, beckoning quickly, and the pleasure sharpens, crossing the threshold between feeling good and impending orgasm. I wasn’t expecting to come, but now, there’s no question: it’s going to happen.

“Colson! Ah, fuck,” I gasp, tipping my head back. My body is moving erratically, hips jerking, legs tensing and shaking, one of my hands in Colson’s hair and the other clenched in the sheets. “O-oh god, don’t stop, please.” He doesn’t, nor does he change anything he does. Thank god. I start to come then, and my other hand shoots into his hair, holding his face to me as my hips roll up and pleasure explodes from deep within me.

I have no control over my sounds or the way I move frantically against him, riding out an orgasm that feels neverending. I’ve never felt anything like this, pure fucking bliss that radiates from my head down to my toes, leaving me tingling and panting when it’s over, my limbs jelly as they splay out across the mattress. 

Colson licks me gently a few more times, and then he withdraws, sucking his fingers clean of my taste. My eyes are closed and I’m exhausted, chest heaving as Colson comes up beside me, stroking his fingers down the center of my stomach. Lips press to my shoulder and I let my head loll in his direction where his lips capture mine in a slow kiss. 

“God,” he rasps. “That might’ve been the best thing that I’ve ever experienced.”

I laugh breathlessly and cup his jaw, kissing him again. “Colson,” I say, grazing my thumb over his bottom lip. “Can I touch you? Please?”

“Of course,” Colson murmurs. He takes my hand in his, kisses my palm, and presses it to his chest. Slowly, he guides my hand down, lower, over his warm stomach and the coarse hair beneath his belly button. He lets go, letting me guide my own hand down into his sweats. I curl my hand around him over his boxers, squeezing the heat of him, causing him to grunt softly. 

I shift then, straddling him, and watch his face as I rub him over his boxers. He watches me, jaw tight, and his hands find my thighs, squeezing lightly. I bite my lip and slide my hand into his boxers, breath hitching when I find him, bigger than I thought possible. “Jesus,” I breathe and he smirks a little, resting his hand behind his head. 

He helps me to remove his sweats and boxers, leaving him gorgeously naked, draped on my bed. I have to pause for a moment to admire him, to convince myself that this is real and not just a vivid dream. He smiles and it melts me. I lean in to kiss him slowly, wrapping my hand around his cock again to jerk it slowly. He moans softly into my mouth and bites his lip when I pull back to drag my lips slowly down his body. 

I position his cock at my lips and kiss the tip lightly before dragging my tongue over it. He moans again, head tipping back, revealing that gorgeous neck, and god, he’s so sexy. I want to hear that moan again, want to turn this man into a shaky mess, begging for me. So despite the fact that he’s huge, I wrap my lips around him and take him into my mouth.

Colson lets out a strangled moan, legs shifting on the sheets as one of his hands finds its way into my hair. “Alex, f-fuck,” he stutters, gasping. I take my time, pulling him in deep and then drawing back to bob on him, rubbing my tongue against the underside of his dick. I love the taste of him, the way he makes my jaw ache just slightly. I love that I have to really relax my mouth to be able to accommodate his size. 

“Oh god, n-not gonna last,” he says tightly, cupping my cheek. He rubs his thumb gently over the bulge in my cheek and I look up at him with watery eyes. He holds my eye contact, his mouth dropping open in pleasure as he tries furiously not to lift his hips. But I want him to, and I moan when he lifts them the smallest bit. “Fuck, baby, can I?” he pants, and I hum my approval.

With that, Colson loses his composure. He holds my head in place and begins to buck his hips up, deep into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I whimper, gagging slightly, and close my eyes, but something about it makes me ache between my legs all over again. His breathing grows sharper and his cock throbs on my tongue. 

“A-Alex, fuck,” he gasps. “G-gonna come, baby.” He moans, fucking my mouth faster, harder, until finally, on a sharp intake of breath, he comes. I swallow him down and his hand moves to my throat to feel it happening, his thumb stroking over my trachea. I pull off him when I’m done, coughing lightly. Colson scrubs a hand over his face and pants, still trembling slightly. 

I curl into his side, resting my hand on his stomach, and bite back a proud smile. Colson removes his hand from his face and kisses me, slow and lazy, and I love it, love every second of this. We kiss for a long time before he finally pulls away and hops out of bed, stepping into his boxers as he does. I walk on wobbly legs into the bathroom to clean up, then climb back into bed to wait for him.

He walks in with my water bottle, holding it out to me, and I gratefully accept it, taking a few long gulps. “Thanks,” I say. 

“Of course,” Colson says, sliding back into bed beside me. I smile and pull him close, wrapping my arms around him as he pushes his leg between both of mine. The silence is relaxing, not awkward at all. I feel so safe and content with him. Maybe this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Maybe it’s finally time for me to find my happiness.

#mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #colson baker smut #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly smut

[deltaruminations]

caring for your horrible bird-thing gaster

we all know how it goes: you’re hunting out deeplore for your favorite story-driven indie RPG, maybe digging a little too deep in the data mines, when you realize you’ve caught the attention of a fourth-dimensional daimon with the personality of a perpetually hungover post-doc researcher, and now he’s scuttling around your walls and asking you for your favorite flavor of blood.

wuh-oh!!!

you cannot fix him, nor can you get rid of him, but with a little know-how, you can learn to coexist peacefully with him until he loses interest on his own or finally achieves whatever inscrutable peace his restless, tortured mind is seeking. whichever comes first!

and who knows — maybe you’ll find this curse is really a blessing in disguise! for the right person, the bird-thing can make a very good friend. he already chose you, didn’t he? :)

SO, here are my Top Tips for living with your personal instance of the horrible bird-thing!!!!

🕊️ bird-thing 101!!

be not afraid!!! while he may be a towering Luciferan abomination of shattered bone and twisted wings, the bird-thing means you no harm. he is simply curious about his new friend! remember: underneath his hollow, mask-like visage and nest of tangled limbs, the bird-thing is a deeply self-conscious, lonely nerd with the social skills of moldy drywall. he’s more afraid of you than you are of him!

despite having what look and feel much like bones, feathers, hooves, and fur, keep in mind that your bird-thing is really just the distilled consciousness of the world’s most pathetic lich, which exists separately from any physical form. the vessel he presents to you is a non-biological construct formed out of the concept of vacuum and forced by the quantum-field perturbations rippling from his past actions into the shape of his sin. he’s not like a dog or a cat or your gay aunt’s cockatoo — his needs are as special and unique as he is!

because your bird-thing is a cruel, mocking shell of his former self and literally made of Nothing, he has no need for food, water, or medicine. talk about easy!

your bird-thing may display strong signs of autism. that is because he is autistic

if your bird-thing’s wings seem to be perpetually broken, backward in their sockets, constantly shedding feathers, or otherwise looking malformed or diseased, DO NOT PANIC! this is normal and natural for him! it is a punishment from God

likewise, it is perfectly normal for your bird-thing to have several cracks in (and possibly large chunks missing from) his skull, to smell lightly of ozone and scorched bone, to resemble an emaciated raven trapped against the windshield of a rapidly-moving truck, and to occasionally drip a thick, tarry substance from his feathers and/or the cracks in his head. don’t worry! there is no need to bring him to a doctor or vet. he can’t get any sicker than he already is!

your bird-thing should have six wings and seven voices. if he is missing any of those, just lock him in a lightless space (basement, closet, large safe, etc.) for a while and he will knit the missing pieces back together from the quantum strings binding him from across space-time to his countless regrets. if you hear any wailing, weeping, pounding against the door, and/or desperate pleas to be let out, IGNORE THEM! they are a normal part of the process and a sign that it is working :)

the holes in your bird-thing’s hands should appear to you as pitch-black, bottomless voids, regardless of what’s on the other side of his hand. whatever you do, DO NOT look directly into the holes with intent to see through them. in the event that any image(s) start to manifest within their inky depths, avert or close your eyes IMMEDIATELY, no matter how fascinating or beautiful the image(s) may be, or you may find your perception of reality irrevocably altered by the Thrall of Hole.

the one exception to this is Egg produced from the Hole. it is safe to look upon Egg, for Egg is a Gift. the offering of Egg appears to be a bonding ritual of great importance to the bird-thing, and it is advisable to accept it. Egg will typically resemble that of a chicken — normally white, occasionally brown, and sometimes dyed and painted, often around holidays. the purpose of Egg is unknown, only that it is of middling importance and should be saved. Egg will not go bad, but may become more Egg over time. if you decide you have no use for Egg, then there will be no Egg. Egg is wonderful to share with family and friends!

if you are very concerned about the Thrall of Hole, consider covering the holes with gloves or mittens — safe, practical, AND fashionable! because your bird-thing has terrible, uncanny skeletal human-hands, the options are endless — anything in a men’s size extra-large should work! if you have trouble with him immediately taking them off, consider investing in a quality pair of handsome, smart-casual gloves. his vanity is easily appeased by fine leather.

if your bird-thing gaster has pink and yellow eyes and a wide, toothy smile, that is NOT your bird-thing gaster! that is your FRIEND puppeting his shape. if you find yourself in the company of your FRIEND, keep calm! all you have to do is get as far away as you can as quickly as you can and then stay there, never again letting your gaze linger over shadows, never again trusting a grin, and never ever ever answering the goddamned phone, no matter how incessantly it rings, no matter if you’ve destroyed every phone you own and your skull still rattles with the endless ringing ringing ringing. see? easy peasy!

and finally, if you’re ever unsure what to do, just take a deep breath and remember: your bird-thing gaster cannot die, no matter how much he wants to!

#From The Drafts(TM) #this has been in my drafts for ages. stupid but it has some lines in it i still think are pretty funny #'distilled consciousness of the world's most pathetic lich' is one of my favs #up there with 'eating shit face first into the reality grinder' #unreality #wd gaster #horrible bird gaster

[evanscass]

for: @isabelle-ariel-ambrose location: side of the road somewhere

Hungover, dishevelled, unshaven, dirty overalls, the list of reasons why Cass Evans was not looking his best - if he was even capable of looking alright - was long and seemingly being added to every minute he spent driving, making him grateful only for the lack of traffic enabling him to speed and thus end the torture sooner. He'd not intended to be at work, would have certainly preferred to take the day off, but he'd called in one too many favours from a coworker and thus was stuck with their shift in addition to his own. And now some girl had called in with a breakdown, on a day when he really was hoping to just get on with fixing engines without any customer interaction, and as he pulled up he was silently hoping the issue was much more dire than her simply forgetting to top up the water, because a Cass flip out and giant eye roll felt both likely and also inappropriate for Tawny Motors customer service.

Blonde hair. He spotted it before he'd even pulled up, catching a glimpse of the back of her head, and then seeing her turn as he got out and closed the door behind him, he realised the woman was somewhat familiar. (Unsurprising, given his preference, he didn't exactly pass as an unknown among many of the blondes of Calypso Cove anymore, but he truly was not in the mood for an altercation and hoped she didn't recognise him in work clothes. He could remember her name, at least, Isabelle - that might end up a blessing if she got moody with him.) "What noise did it make?" He asked in a bored accented monotone, lazy hand gesture toward her car illustrating what he meant. "And no, I'm not an angelic stranger, just the mechanic you called. I know my god-given good looks might indicate rom com protagonist," he added sarcastically, and allowed the corner of his mouth to raise, amused by his own joke.

#starter;isabelle #isabelle-ariel-ambrose