#BUT I WANNA KNOW THE ORIGINAL DIRECTION. LIKE THE ''perfect world'' SHIT WAS GOOD. WHAT WOULD THE MEMORY STUFF HAVE BEEN. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sigmabateman · 10 months

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thank you so much @velvetcrowbar444 for tagging me to talk about 5 things im obsessed with at the moment!!

this got longer than i anticipated so im putting it under the cut, but for simplicity's sake i'll tag people up here: @nights-decay, @boycentriccplot, @flaming-tsunami, @sourgelatin no pressure though of course!

persona 5... ok i have to be honest ive been really reluctant to talk about this on here and its why ive been quiet the past at least week or so. no idea why. i guess cause its so different from the stuff i usually post about that i feel like, embarrassed? but i started playing persona 5 royal around may and really liked it but i didnt have the time to properly get into it until now and it has completely taken over my life entirely without me even realising. to be honest i could obsess over like a rock on the ground if i saw it at the right time in my life but hands down persona 5 is one the best if not the best game ive ever played in my life. the story is engaging, the characters are distinctive and realistic and i really really care about all of them, the gameplay is so much fun and combat is buttery fucking smooth like nothing ive ever played before, the music is top tier and what got me interested in the game in the first place, and the ART DIRECTION. it speaks for itself to be honest ESPECIALLY compared to the older games. i was shocked starting persona 4 because of how different it is to persona 5 like, persona 5 has SUCH a distinct visual identity as well as tone, themes, imagery etc it is all just so stunning and perfect and i want to live in it. but i think about it so often like literally 24/7 that i may as well be. i <3 persona 5 and i <3 YUSUKE KITAGAWA. he's definitely my favourite character and he came out of NOWHERE but hes actually everything in the world to me. one of the characters ever.

persona 4 is it a copout to say that? i did try and condense both games into one bullet point but 1. they're such a mainstay in my life right now i was struggling to think of more points and 2. it kind of lost its precision and didn't effectively convey just how personapilled i am right now. i originally wasn't gonna play 4, all i knew is that it was more difficult and less good so i thought i should stay away. but if you go anywhere persona-related on the internet (which i would warn against, the fandom is a fucking cesspit the likes of which i havent seen in a long time as an obscure-shit-enjoyer) you'll quickly run into adachi. and as a lover of men with high-pitched voices and sexypedia entries... i couldn't stay away. before even starting the game i had made a d6 and d20 with different adachis on each face so really it was just a matter of time. and you know what... it's not that bad. the graphics were a SHOCKING step down but i find the low(er) poly style really charming. the adachi model is too cute T_T whenever i see it in the game world i just wanna sit with it for ages. i wonder if i could get it like 3d printed so i could keep him on my desk with me at all times... its bad for me ! the combat is fucking clunky espeically compared to 5 and i kind of hate it but that just makes it more rewarding when i can finally stop LOL. some of the characters (especially the main few (yosuke, chie, yukiko)) took a bit to grow on me but its kind of sweet.. its like authentic.. our relationship is growing as i get to know them better... but dojima and nanako ive loved since i first set eyes on them. too cute. it makes me feel so fatherless. its like.. a lot more magnetic than i expected it to be. i love it even with all its flaws. i saw a meme about it being like twin peaks and thats kind of so real. and you know i love a murder mystery... so yeah tldr i like persona now. but its hard to talk about it on here because it is such a big fandom but not like an active one like spiderman or like good omens or whatever slightly more normal people are watching so its kind of intimidating. maybe ill get over myself, maybe ill go silent for 3 months until i get into something new. we'll see i guess LOL

my gender identity TUMBLR MOMENT I KNOW but i dont know.. ive had a lot of time to myself recently and its kind of brought things to the surface that i just didnt have time or space to think about before. turns out there was a LOT OF STUFF i was repressing without even knowing. like that tweet 'im probably nonbinary but i have a job so idrc about that rn'. i posted on instagram "gender around cis people: boy, gender around trans people: girlboy, gender by myself: computer program" and that kind of sums it up i think. can i coin like.. complicatedgender. where your answer to the question "whats your gender?" is "it's complicated..." cause thats me. its just COMPLICATED okay!!!! but my pronouns havent changed or anything so its chilllllll

going to bed at a reasonable time. i phrased that like a joke answer but its true. i downloaded pokemon sleep and now i go to bed at 11:30pm cause at 11 i get a notification saying my pokemon are sleepy and shit i gotta take care of my pokemon!! i dont even know if its doing me any good to be honest like i dont feel much better when i wake up but making myself get into bed and shut my eyes means more thinking time and to be honest my favourite activity is thinking. even if as silly as it sounds i never give myself time to do it. its playing a weirdly big role in my life rn so yeah id say im obsessed with it!!!

this asmr video. im secretly always posting about asmr so really i could just say that, but like, ASMR | The Mortician (No Talking – You're Dead) specifically is such a mainstay i can feel its influence seeping into my life like an infection. this video would actually show up in my recommended for YEARS but i never watched it. gave me a major ick for some reason. but then i got into this guys stuff and saw it again and thought id give it a go and now its like an extra limb. fuck my 3rd bullet point, this is my gender identity. i could not articulate in words what it is about the mortician that i love so much, but i really really do. i am certifiably obsessed. cant believe i made it through this whole thing without mentioning alex. but there you are. yay this was fun :D

#tag game

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dumbfinntales · 8 months

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After about 45 hours I finally beat Lies of P for the first time. Man, how lucky am I to play three complete bangers of games in a row? Lies of P was an amazing game, not perfect, but truly a gem in the rough. Click more blelow to read my full thoughts!

So what is Lies of P? It's like if the "we have bloodborne at home" meme was genuine and you play as twink Pinocchio who fights against mechanical puppets. Sounds ridiculous, right? But the game makes it work. The world might be based on the story of Pinocchio, but it goes into so many different wild directions. The lore, the characters and most importantly the atmosphere are so superb that I kept forgetting that I'm playing as Pinocchio. I really do like the story they went for and there are a ton of nods to the original Pinocchio story.

Lies of P is a souls like and probably the best one I've played. It is the closest that any souls like game has reached Fromsoft level of quality and truly feel like it. And I'd go as far as to say that this game does reach Fromsofts quality. Everything feels so pristine and so fine tuned. The art direction is godly, the enemy designs are wild and varied, the bosses are brutal and the world and its atmosphere are great. And the game feels really good to play, for the most part. But I'll get to my criticisms later.

One thing that they did a bit different from Fromsoft are the story and characters. The characters were real fun and I quite grew to like them, Venigni and Polendina for example. There was a lot more dialogue to each character so you really got to know them and what their story is, while in most Fromsoft games their stories are tragic, but you don't really get to know them. The games story is also very straightforward and most things are revealed to you in time. So it's not your usual Fromsoft "figure things out on your own" type of story telling. It's quite refreshing actually and there were some really nice story twists and revelations along the way.

Like I said previously the game feels really good to play. The combat is top notch and feels a lot like Bloodborne when it comes to combat options and speed. I'll give bonus points to Lies of P that you can fully upgrade multiple weapons per playthrough, while in Bloodborne you can only do two. One criticism or irk or whatever you wanna call it is the parry timing. Many people have talked about his online, and I agree. The parry timing is strict and combine that with extremely delayed attacks and you're in trouble. I wish the parry was a little more lenient because learning the pixel perfect timing for each boss is quite tedious. And the more attacks a boss has the more tedious it is.

This is not a criticism per se, but holy shit this game is hard. Far harder than any Fromsoft souls game. In fact it might be one of the hardest games I've ever played. The balance is a bit all over the place though, like most levels and basic enemies are easy to deal with, but bosses and mini bosses are brutal. I was stuck on a mini boss for like 50 minutes. That's how long a boss should take, not a mid level elite enemy. The game is this difficult because it asks so much of the player. You are somewhat squishy so you die quickly, bosses are relentless and the parry timing are extremely strict. Some enemies in this game have these overly delayed attacks that hang in the air for long and come down in fraction of a second and you can't possibly react to that in time. You gotta see that attack multiple times until you can predict when it comes down accurately. Many bosses in this game took me more than an hour to beat.

But despite being stuck on most bosses for so long I still persevered. As a personal challenge I did everything solo as well and I never really felt frustrated. Dunno why, but Lies of P sparked my classic enjoyment for souls bosses that Elden Ring killed.

I'm not sure where I'd rank Lies of P yet, but I'm really looking forward to any possible DLC or continuation. This developer has truly showed that they know how to make a tough as nails yet fun game, and they know how to craft an interesting and twisted world. Using a classic fairy tale no less!

#lies of p #a review type of deal

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nevarrhoe · 2 years

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mea culpa (m.m) - six

SUMMARY: “mea culpa” (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one’s fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney’s daughter. (masterlist + playlist)

warnings: afab reader/fem pronouns, age gap, swearing, very brief mentions of blood

MINORS DNI - this has been clearly marked as having explicit content and with these clear warnings in place, you are reading this whilst being aware of said content

this is somehow the shortest part so far but with like...the most happening?? fuck me i guess

-jazz xx

It only took a few days to fall back into a routine with Matt.

This one was newer; fresher and lighter. A combination of what you had originally got into this fling for but also something…more. Now that you had admitted to one another that this meant something to you both, there was a weight off your shoulders. Having that established direction was all the confidence you needed to move forward with your whole head and heart in it. Matt’s promise to you had been important as well: you don’t have to decide what this is just yet. When you know, you just say, okay?

It was funny to hear it coming from him. He was a man that moved at a thousand miles an hour - taking on cases left right and centre, constantly chasing his next victory or the next landmark for social justice in Hell’s Kitchen. The fact he was stopping to slow down, even for a minute, was a reflection of your position in his life. Matt didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to take his time and enjoy it.

It was a warm Wednesday afternoon that you made your first public appearance together. Nothing serious - you were just strolling through Central Park on your shared lunch break. It had taken a lot of convincing on your part to get Matt to do it; he was filled with ten million panicked questions. What if someone sees us? What if they think it’s a conflict of interest?

Your argument that you could just be two colleagues grabbing lunch together was the thing that won him over. Maybe you were just taking advantage of the nice weather and walking through the park instead of having a meeting in a dinghy office, or maybe he’d bumped into you out and about and had questions about a case. They were all very plausible things, but it wasn’t until you grabbed his hand and said Matthew, I just want to spend time with you that he finally cracked.

“The weather is too nice. I don’t wanna go back to work,” Matt commented, aimlessly wandering down one of the quieter paths.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Me too. I have a meeting this afternoon with a client and then I have some stupid dinner with some of the girls from college. I really don’t want to go.”

“You should cancel and come and see me instead,” he said. “I get off early tonight.”

“I don’t know how they would react to me ditching them to spend time with my boyfriend,” you shot back. “Pretty sure that’s breaking rule one of the girl code.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Who’s this boyfriend of yours? Should I be concerned?”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening. Shit. Neither of you had brought up the whole conversation about labels: you’d never had to before because there was never even a context where you would bring Matt up. The both of you had just sort of been cruising along on the understanding that you didn’t have to define something that you didn’t have to explain to anyone.

“Fuck, Matt, I -” you stumbled on your words, pausing for a minute. “I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out and-”

“- no, I like it,” he gave you a shit-eating grin.

This would have been the perfect moment to kiss. Alas, you were in public, surrounded by the prying eyes of hundreds of people who may or may not know your father. It was too risky to even share a hug, so instead, you gave Matt a huge smile and a curt nod.

“Good,” you said. “Me too.”

–

It was gone 10PM by the time you got back home after dinner.

Your family resided in a penthouse high-rise, just south of the World Trade Center. It overlooked the Hudson and had a beautiful view of the skyline; it was just a shame that you felt so trapped here as of late. Getting your own apartment had been on your to-do list for a while but up until Matt, you’d never had that much of a reason too. You loved sharing his space with him, but there was a massive part of you that wanted your own place. Moreover, it would be a place where you and Matt could just be, the same way you were at his. It would just be nice to have two places where your relationship could exist.

Throwing your jacket aside, you kicked off your heels and headed further into the apartment. The kitchen lights were on; you turned the corner to see your father. He wasn’t normally up past this hour, but tonight he was standing by the marble island, a glass of neat whiskey in front of him. Any other day you would have avoided him, but you’d been texting Matt all afternoon and his sacrilegious messages had you in a good mood.

“Rough day?” you asked.

Your father looked up from his glass, eyebrows raised. “No, I’ve had a fine day. We won another case this afternoon. I went out for drinks with your mother to celebrate and when we got back, I got a call from Harrison. You know Harrison, don’t you? He works by the park.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “Is everything okay?”

“He was just dropping me a message to tell me that he spotted you and Matthew Murdock out for a nice afternoon stroll,” he continued, voice ice cold. “Do you want to explain to me why you’re gallivanting about with the enemy?”

Your eyes went wide and you forced yourself to swallow. “Matt just had some questions about the Thomspon case.”

“The Thompson case closed a week ago,” your dad shot back. “And as far as I know, him asking you questions doesn’t involve a romantic walk through Central Park with ice cream-”

“- I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” you snapped. “You can’t spy on me my whole fucking life!”

“Language!” he barked. “What is going on between you and Murdock?”

“Nothing!” you insisted. “Besides, I’m not a teenager anymore. I don’t have to explain everything to you.”

“You do when it’s a conflict of interest!” he continued. “Do you know how bad it looks on my part that one of my employees is running around town with a low-level pro-bono lawyer like him?”

“I am not your employee, I am your daughter!” you yelled. “I don’t have to take this. I’m going out.”

Storming away, you exited the kitchen. Your shoes and jacket were back on in a flash. You hadn’t expected your father to find out so soon - even though he hadn’t really found out anything. It was easy to argue that your outing with Matt had been completely innocent, though your reaction to his accusations might not have helped the situation.

You had an Uber to Matt’s place booked by the time the elevator got down to the lobby. You shot him a text as well - I’m on my way over. We have a situation. He never minded when you turned up unannounced; if anything, he enjoyed it.

It was only a twenty-minute or so drive - New York was never quiet, but the roads were a little emptier now that rush hour had passed. It gave you a chance to think: about what you were going to say to Matt, about what you were going to say to your father. This felt like a sign from the universe that you really should move out soon. Hell, you were ready to completely cut your family off at that moment. That just meant finding a job and finding your own place, and when your surname was so clearly linked back to your father, it would be hard for anyone to take you seriously.

Matt still hadn’t replied to your text by the time you got to his. You didn’t think too much of it - he was normally busy at this time with paperwork or files, and his phone wasn’t always on loud. You were practically the only person he ever texted anyways.

Hopping up the stairs, you frowned to yourself when you saw that the door to his apartment wasn’t closed. It wasn’t wide open, just slightly ajar, but that was weird for him. This was the same man who triple-checked that it was locked every night. There was no way in hell that he would just casually leave it open.

You gently pushed it, making your way inside the apartment.

“Matt?” you called. “It’s me.”

There was a strewn red boot on the floor and another one beside it. Your concern only grew deeper as you headed inside the apartment, following the trail of discarded red clothes.

It wasn’t until you saw a horned helmet tossed outside the bathroom and Matt cleaning up a giant wound on his stomach that you finally put two and two together.

“Holy shit,” you murmured, “you’re Daredevil.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fan fic #matt murdock fan fiction #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #marvel imagines

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winchestershiresauce · 3 years

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High on You

Summary: Smoking weed to relax after a rough day becomes a whole lot more when Daryl joins you.

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

3455 words

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, drug use (weed), almost public sex, fluff, mentions of the bible

A/N: Special thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams for suggestions/edits. This turned out way softer than I originally intended, but I love it. I hope you enjoy!

After the long day you’d had, all you wanted to do was decompress. You’d tried reading, you’d tried sleeping, but you realized you needed something just a little bit stronger. So, with a plan in place, you grabbed your trusty bible and snuck down the stairs. You had to admit, you felt a bit like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night to get up to trouble, despite the fact that you were a grown woman and the world as you’d known it had ended.

You silently crept out the front door into the night, slowly pulling it closed behind you. It was about two in the morning as you tip-toed across the porch and sat down on the steps of the Alexandrian house you shared with other members of your group of survivors. Setting your leather-bound bible in your lap, you opened it and flipped through the well-loved pages to get to the good stuff inside, but froze when you heard a plank of the porch floor creak from around the corner. You turned around to see Daryl approaching, his crossbow in one hand.

"Can't sleep?" he grunted in your direction, and you subtly closed the worn cover to your Bible as he sat on the step next to you.

"Nah, not after today. You?" you replied, and he merely gave a little shrug.

"Didn't know you was religious." He nodded toward the book in your lap, and you smiled sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, not, actually." He raised his eyebrow at you, expecting you to elaborate or explain, so you opened the Bible and showed him the contents, chewing your lip. About an inch from the edges, the middle of the pages was cut out. In the space that remained was a baggie of weed, a lighter, and pieces of blank pages that had been cut out and trimmed to size for use as rolling papers. Daryl's eyes moved from you to the illicit stash, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yer kidding," he chuckled. You loved the sound of a genuine laugh spilling from his lips: something you didn't hear nearly often enough.

You shook your head and shrugged, "Not at all. The pages are the perfect thickness to roll joints with."

"Yeah, guess I just didn't peg ya for a druggie." You feigned offense, pretending to clutch your pearls, but found yourself laughing as well.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dixon, but it's the end of the world. Hell if I'm gonna pretend I don't like pot because of the social stigma anymore." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the conversation was happening, and began fiddling with the crossbow in his lap that you weren't sure you'd ever seen him without. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you got to work rolling a nice little joint for yourself and he went back to whatever it was that he was doing with his bolts. When you licked the paper to try to seal it closed, you glanced over to see that Daryl had been watching you.

"Yer not doin' it right. That's gonna fall apart before ya can even smoke it," he critiqued, watching as you frustratedly attempted to turn the twist of weed and paper in your hand into something smokeable.

"I know! I'm just tired and don't wanna waste the paper so I'm trying to fix it!" you retorted.

"Give it 'ere." He reached his open hand out to you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine. If you think you can do better, have at it." You felt a little irritated - you knew how to roll a joint, dammit - but placed what was definitely one of the saddest-looking joints you'd ever seen into his outstretched palm. He carefully unrolled it and adjusted the pile of dried cannabis to better resemble the innards of a cigarette. You watched intently, unsure which you were enjoying more: the way he expertly turned your sad mess into a work of art by comparison, or the way the muscles in his forearms tensed and rippled as he worked his large callused fingers at such a delicate task. When he raised the joint to his mouth and licked the paper to form the closest thing to a seal he could get without adhesive, you couldn’t help the quiet reactive groan that escaped from your throat.

“What?” he asked as he continued to lick the paper to finish rolling the joint. You weren’t sure you wanted to answer, as it wasn’t exactly dignified the way that you were eyeballing him, but you did anyway.

“It’s just,” you started and bit your lip a little. “It’s hot when you do shit like that.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous.

You let out a small laugh, you couldn’t believe you were about to say this, “You’re so good with your hands and, I don’t know, the way you licked that just did things to me.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like you didn't just admit to ogling him. He didn’t even reply, just stared at you for a moment. His eyes narrowed a bit and you were pretty sure he thought you were fucking with him. He handed the now nicely-rolled joint to you and you took it, pleased.

In silence, you held the blessed joint between your lips and lit it. Taking a long drag, you inhaled fresh air to push the smoke deeper into your lungs and offered the joint to Daryl. With a slight nod, he took it from you and took a hit himself. You leaned back, blowing the smoke up toward the black night sky, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was just what you’d needed. For a few minutes, you and Daryl passed the joint between the two of you without speaking. You both reveled in the way the smoke danced into your lungs and escaped from your lips, letting the quiet night and the drugs do their best to calm you.

“Why do ya say shit like that?” Daryl eventually asked. You had just taken a large hit, savoring the feeling as you watched the joint dwindle to almost nothing, and you turned to look at him. He stared off straight ahead, looking utterly entranced with the neighbor’s flower garden.

“Shit like what?” you questioned, letting him have the last hit or two left. You raised your eyebrow at him, confused, since you hadn’t said anything in a while.

“How it’s hot when I do somethin'.” He shrugged vaguely and murmured some sort of noise that sounded close to “I dunno.” He tilted his head slightly and looked at you cautiously. “What ya said before…” You leaned your head back in realization: he really didn’t believe you when you told him he was fucking attractive.

“Because it’s true.”

“Nah.”

“Whatever you say, Dixon. You don’t have to believe me.” You smiled over at him and he let out a noncommittal grunt. You redirected the conversation to something a little lighter, but found things naturally meandering back to a similar topic after only a short while.

"So, how come ya couldn't sleep?" he asked, daring a glance into your eyes.

"Honestly?" you responded, and he nodded. "Well, I needed to decompress after the run today, so I was reading this book and, uh…" You pressed your lips together and decided you were about to share a little too much information.

"And what?" His question was genuine and you weren't sure if he could even pick up on your embarrassment.

"Promise not to laugh?" He regarded you for a moment, but nodded. "Well, I was reading a romance novel," you paused to see if he'd break his promise and laugh, continuing when he didn't, "and it got me a little wound up and made me realize how much I miss sex. You know?" Daryl stared, a little wide-eyed and very unsure of how to respond.

"A book made ya so horny ya couldn't fall asleep?" There was a slight laugh in his voice and you recognized that little twinkle in his eye when he lightly teased you.

"Not exactly, Daryl." You gave him a pointed look. "It just made me think about how long it's been and maybe I kinda miss it. Don't you?" He shrugged. "I guess I just wish some things were easier in the apocalypse. I really wanna be fucked good and hard until I'm begging for mercy." You exhaled forcefully, something between a laugh and a sigh.

"Why don't ya just ask somebody? I'm sure anybody here would help ya." You were honestly a bit surprised at the lack of reaction from him. Very personal conversations weren’t usually his forte, but the weed seemed to have mellowed him out a bit and he didn’t even blush.

"I don't know. That's not quite what I want, I guess. Tara and I fooled around some a while ago but it didn't feel right. I wanna feel something, and the only person I feel something for doesn't seem interested."

"Then they're an idiot." You tried your best to hide the smile that threatened to blossom on your face at his response. He was so genuine, and so sure. It was too bad he had no idea you were talking about him.

"Oh, so are you saying you'd be interested?" The relaxation from the weed had you feeling bolder than usual. You couldn't believe you'd asked, but there was no turning back.

"Not sayin' I'd not be." You could see the pink flush up his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, and it made you feel warm.

"I see," you replied, biting back a grin. The two of you, again, sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments and you scooted closer to him. You set your hand on his where he'd had it resting on his thigh since he'd set aside his crossbow in favor of the weed. You slipped your fingers between his and you could feel the roughness of his pants beneath your fingertips. He looked up at you, uncertain, but didn't say anything. "This okay?" you asked. Again, he just nodded. He didn't want to risk his voice in case it gave away how nervous he was feeling. The quiet night enveloped you again, but it didn't bother you. You finally felt relaxed and maybe even a bit safe there with Daryl's hand in yours.

Daryl flipped over his hand under yours so you were palm-to-palm and he could wrap his fingers around yours. "Hey, Y/N?" he asked, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Hmm?" you hummed in reply.

"Can I kiss ya?" There was no holding back your grin anymore as the embodiment of strength, masculinity, and independence looked to you for an answer to a question you thought he'd never ask. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek, bit your lip, and nodded.

With that confirmation that you wanted what he did as well, he crashed his lips into yours. At first it was clumsy, like you were just getting to know each other, but soon your mouths moved together in sweet harmony. For a few minutes, you just kissed each other's breath away. Then, almost as if a switch was flipped, suddenly the movements of your mouths and tongues together weren't enough. You swung your leg over his, straddling him, and he immediately slid his hands down to cup your ass and drag you into his lap.

Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him, desperate for friction. With one hand, he pulled your hair behind your shoulder so he could place open-mouthed, hungry kisses across your jaw and throat. You could feel how hard he was beneath you and it only made you more desperate. Heat pooled between your legs, your pussy wet with anticipation as you kissed and groped each other like a couple of teenagers. You would've been glad the whole town was asleep if you'd had enough thought to care about how you looked at that moment.

"Fuck, Daryl," you panted, trying to catch your breath as he took it away. One hand had moved from your ass and began to paw at your breasts through your shirt. Pressing your center down on him, he bit your bottom lip and you pulled him closer as if you were trying to meld your bodies together. He let out a low groan that rumbled through his chest, and you giggled. He cocked his head at you in confusion.

"What?"

"Sorry, sorry." You continued to giggle, "I just can't believe we're doing this."

"Why's 'at?" You loved the way his words slid together like he was drunk on your touch (though, logically, you knew the weed likely had something to do with it).

"I've wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon." You put a hand on either side of his face and looked right into his eyes. Goosebumps creeped up your skin as his rough fingers caressed your sides under your shirt, and you bit your lip before reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You swore his eyes sparkled as he watched you pull the fabric up and over your head.

"Yer so beautiful," he sighed before ducking forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your fingers tangled in his hair and a loud moan escaped your lips as he flicked his tongue over the hardening bud. You tugged his head back to make him look up at you and he melted at the soft smile on your face.

“Daryl,” you whispered and he quirked his eyebrow up at you. “Do you want to take this inside?” You weren’t exactly shy but if you were being honest, you didn’t want to share the moment with anyone who may also have trouble sleeping and happened upon the scene. He nodded and you pressed your lips to his again before moving off of his lap.

The two of you had barely made it in the door to his basement room when he had you backed up into the wall. The pressure of his mouth on yours was more delicious than you’d imagined and your knees grew weak as his scruff tickled the skin around your lips. You were surprised at the way he had taken the lead in this dance, but you were far from complaining about it. Loving the way he felt against you, you moved your hand to rub him through his jeans. He was rock hard and pressed against the seam of his pants, making him groan as you pressed into him.

You began to unbuckle his belt but stopped when you felt his breath hitch against your skin. You looked up at him to find his eyes closed and what you hoped was a look of bliss across his face. When he felt your movements stall, he opened his eyes and caught your soft look of uncertainty.

“Wha’s ‘a matter?” He moved his hands so his thumbs rested at your temple.

“Just want to make sure you want this.”

“‘Course I want this.” The rough calluses of the pads of his thumbs brushed down the soft skin of your cheekbones and your lips surged up to meet his. Your fingers continued their delicate mission with his belt before unbuttoning his pants. His hips bucked up to meet your warm palm as you slid your hand between the cotton of his boxer briefs and the denim. Daryl’s hands slowly made their way down your body and found themselves at the button of your own jeans. As his fingers made quick work of the button, you slid your hand around to his hip so you could feel him pressing you heavily into the wall behind you. You gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against your center and the moan that left your lips as he rolled his hips into yours was downright sinful. His mouth quickly found yours again and he swallowed down your moans as his talented fingers found their way to your slick folds.

“Yes!” you cried as the tip of his middle finger circled your clit. Your breath eluded you as you felt something shift in his demeanor. Suddenly, Daryl was shoving your jeans and underwear to the floor as you frantically grabbed for the hem of his shirt, barely detaching your mouths long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of your wetness against his skin was so perfect that he couldn’t even find the energy to be anxious or ashamed as your hands danced over the scars that littered his back. His clothes quickly joined yours on the floor and he thought he might lose it at the sigh that escaped your lips as his cock brushed against your core. You lifted one leg to drape over his hip so he could better access your excited pussy. With one hand, Daryl fisted himself and teased you as he slid his tip over your entrance and through your slick. His other hand moved to your ass to lift you up and give him a better angle.

As he thrust into your wet heat, he growled against the delicate skin of your throat. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt anything so perfect as when he buried himself in you. The way he filled you to the brim made you tremble, and Daryl paused to try to get himself together. The way your walls clenched around him would be the end of him, he was sure of it.

“Daryl,” you whined, “I need you to move. Need to feel you.” That was enough to snap him out of his reverie and he pulled back just to slam himself into you again. You let out a cry and tightened your grasp around his shoulders and squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

“Ya feel so good,” he rasped in your ear as he pounded into you again and again. The way he slammed into that sweet spot with each thrust was divine and you couldn’t get enough. You felt the familiar warmth begin to bloom below your belly button as he dragged you toward your peak.

“You feel incredible. Don’t stop!” Your voice was much higher pitched than usual as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge. His grip on your ass tightened and you wouldn’t have been surprised if there were bruises forming where his fingers pressed deep into your cheeks as he held you in place and fucked you like you’d only dreamed he would.

“Fuck,” you chanted and Daryl’s breaths became staccato as the friction built between you. You could feel his pace quicken and his rhythm stuttered as you tumbled over the edge of your climax. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder as you came, feeling your whole body shudder. Daryl fucked you through your peak as the waves of his own orgasm crashed over him. The feeling of him spilling hot inside of you made you dig your nails into his biceps as if you could cling to the sensation. He placed surprisingly soft kisses along the bottom of your jaw as his breathing began to even out.

“That was—holy shit—exactly what I fucking wanted,” you sighed and let yourself collapse into his chest as he set you down.

“Good, now let’s get some sleep.” Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and moved to steer you toward his bed.

He lifted the blanket so you could crawl in and he followed right after. As you settled in, you couldn't help but curl up against his side, his warmth engulfing you as he tucked his arm around you. You turned to face him and placed a kiss on his chest when you felt him tense beneath you.

"What?" you asked, and you felt him shake his head.

"Mmm," he started, collecting his thoughts. "Jus' wonderin' if this is a one-time, we're high kinda thing or—"

"I hope not." You wrapped your arm around his torso and craned your head to look up at him. "I meant what I said earlier about wanting you for a while, and not just 'cause you're sexy." He scoffed but you felt him relax again, and he pulled you closer in to his side. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home. There was nowhere you'd rather be than contentedly tucked into his side, his bare skin pressed softly against yours.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x you #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon imagine #walking dead imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #friends to lovers

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 2 years

Text

so a while ago 6th of december to be exact @bluewinnerangel got me to spin her wheel of songs a second time and there's these three to pick from:

only UAN + TMH wheel

All 1D songs wheel

All of 1D + Harry + Louis wheel

that day i felt very brave and picked the third option. and that time. i got lucky. i got

SOOOOOO AT LAST, 22 DAYS LATER, HERE I AM WITH A GOOD OLD LYRIC ANALYSIS FOR ONE OF MY FAVORITE 1D SONGS

steal my girl - a close reading

yes new notebook it's giving Less Flat and Wider

LYRIC ANALYSIS

She's been my queen since we were sixteen

This Is About A Girl

~ "I guess some queens don't need a crown", perfect now

specific age. wonder who it's about. wonder which writer of this song has been with someone since they were 16

We want the same things, we dream the same dreams, alright, alright I got it all 'cause she is the one Her mum calls me love, her dad calls me son, alright, alright

this shit is established. they've met the family, they talk about the future, they're building a life together as a team

-> this isn't a one-sided thing about the singer being possessive and holding their s/o back

~ "share a single bed and tell each other what we dream about", we made it

I know, I know, I know for sure

Everybody wanna steal my girl Everybody wanna take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me

couple billion? in the whole wide world? who in 1d is together with someone like that? whose partner is desired by billions? esp desired by billions bc they don't know they're taken

sure, if one of the 1d boys is together with someone, they might get some jealousy over them, but that jealousy from fans would generally not be "i want her", but "i want to be her" (like... if it were el or sth yk)

Kisses like cream, her walk is so mean

gay

And every jaw drops when she's in those jeans, alright

legs body physical attraction where have i heard this theme before in which person's songwriting is this a theme hMmmmmm

~ "waiting to wrap your legs around me", always you

I don't exist, if I don't have her The sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn, alright, alright

they call each other sun

~ "summertime, butterflies, all belong to your creation", olivia

~ "If I didn't have you there would be nothing left The shell of a man who could never be his best If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun You taught me how to be someone, yeah", drag me down

~ "'Cause you're the only one when it's said and done You make me feel like being someone good to you", perfect now

-> both consider the other as the centre of the universe, origin of life

She know, she knows That I never let her down before Oh, she know, she knows That I'm never gonna let another take her love from me now

"I" has proven they're legit. not one-sided

possessive Daddy energy. i'll make sure these leeches don't bother you

Na na na na na na na She belongs to me

*child's voice* naaanaaa nana na you'll never get her

SYNTHESIS

Established relationship. They're going strong. Sung from the perspective of someone who is quite on the possessive side, but not directed towards their partner in a "gotta keep em in line" kind of way, but in a "hey, horde of people horny for my GiRL? back the fuck off or we're gonna have a problem" and I respect that.

The love that's portrayed is very very wholesome and is to be found in other One Direction songs, like Olivia or Drag Me Down. They're the sun. Their source of light. They can't imagine life without them, because they've shaped it so intensely already. They've changed each other for the better. And oh yeah this person is so fucking hot and everyone fucking agrees. But too bad for the whole fucking world, I guess, because (s)he's taken.

This song is at the origin of so many other songs and references. Gotta love parallels and these menaces calling back to their earlier work as much as they can, leaving a huge network of links to make it very obvious that it's all about the same love story.

#lyric analysis #WOW feels good #i kept it short and sweet and perhaps way more parallels will come out now #but i'm pleased with this result #it's been a while #love it #steal my girl

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donald4spiderman · 3 years

Note

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spence #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Take All That Anger Out on Me

A/N: Here’s the first requested fic from the ‘Super Kinky’ list for my Dirty Little Secret series!!! (I’ll be alternating these super kinky fics with the ‘Somewhat Filthy’ fics.) **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, intense degradation, Jax is raging and seriously roughs you up ‘cause you beg him to let all his anger out (slaps your face, spits on your face and in your mouth) Request: Request from @rayslittlekitten (in comments under this post) + anon request

Word Count: ~2k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off, please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

It's past 2 A.M. when he finally gets home, storming into the living room, the front door swinging loud and hard behind him as he slams it closed.

You jump up off the couch immediately, tingling as you sense the red hot rage that's radiating from his body, from that drop-dead gorgeous head down to his toes. It fills you with the urge to rip off all his fucking clothes. Worship the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt and kutte... just eat him up... But you're not sure if Jax is in the mood to use you as his slut, right now when he is clearly furious about whatever happened on today's job. So you try to keep your mouth closed. Stay composed.

But then he heads into the kitchen, and you can't resist the urge to ask a question, as you follow. "How'd it go...?"

"Don't ask," Jax grumbles in a low rasp, as he tosses his gun down onto the table, moving toward the fridge to grab himself a beer. He doesn't even bother looking back at you at all, let alone stop to say hello. Just moves across the room like you're not even here. "You don't wanna know."

Some twisted part of you loves it when he gets so rude. He’s in one of those moods, and it shows, and the one thing you do know... is just how the rest of the night's gonna go.

You don't wanna know, he had said. You protest, knowing that will provoke him best, bring all that smoldering rage to the surface and make him go mad.

And you want that. So bad.

He says it again, like he's reading the thoughts in your head. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna fucking know."

"I do, though—"

"I said don't," your man repeats, casting a glance in your direction, for a split second, piercing blue glare burning your skin off with the heat. And then he turns his back to you again, muttering something as he grabs the drink he needs. You're not sure if he wanted you to hear it. But you did. "Stupid bitch."

... Well, shit. Those degrading words off of his lips just made your pussy twitch. You squirm and cross your arms over your tits, nipples suddenly stiff, through the thin cloth of your pajama top. His back is toward you at the moment so he doesn't really notice. You pretend to just be miffed, although the truth is that you’re thirsty for this man to fuck you up. "Okay, somebody's got his boxers in a twist..."

Jax takes a deep swig of his drink. Then sets it down, and slowly turns around. "You shut your mouth," he growls out loud, the dark edge in his tone depriving you of all ability to think.

A sheen of liquor glistens on his lower lip; he flicks his tongue out, takes a lick and then bites down hard on the soft pink flesh. Surveys the skimpy PJs you’ve got on, the lacy fabric of the bottoms, hanging low upon your hips... his gaze descends down to your crotch before sliding across your chest... Then up your neck to linger on your mouth and make you melt, as if he knows you're desperate to use that dirty mouth to just untwist his boxers yourself.

And damn are they in a tight twist. He talks down at you in a mean, menacing hiss. "Thought you'd know better than to get sassy like this when I'm already fucking pissed."

Every word he utters, in that husky voice of his, gets you all hot and bothered, hits you like a goddamn bomb exploding on your clit. Taking a few steps toward this sex god motherfucker, you uncross your arms and set your hands upon your hips. At this point all your dignity has been eclipsed, desire coming through, and you don't care if he can see your tits—you don't doubt it. In fact you want him to, if this suggestive shift in energy is signaling that he might want to do something about it.

So you respond accordingly: with a provocative reply to make it clear that you are quite painfully horny. "Well, I guess I don't know shit. I'm just a stupid little bitch."

At that, a shadow of a smirk flickers across his luscious lips. "Oh, now you're asking for it..."

"Begging. Please," you answer, wet with need, unable to hold back the nasty slut inside of you that has to be released. Undoubtedly. "Take all that anger out on me."

Towering over you so tall and powerful, so big and strong and beautiful, those eyes so blue and hair so blonde... he bites his tongue and pauses just a fraction of a second. Ocean eyes exploring yours, to make sure that you know just what you're in for. That it's what you really want. That you're ready and eager for whatever rough and dirty sex Jax Teller has in store.

And of course you fucking are. Without wasting a second more, he lunges forward, like an animal pinning you to the floor—the kitchen table, let alone the bed or any better surface that may be available, is way too fucking far—hovering over you on all fours, groaning in sadistic pleasure as you happily surrender to his force, grinding his hips hard into yours, until you're moaning like a whore.

"This what you wanted, bitch?" he devilishly teases, razor edges of his teeth grazing your trembling bottom lip as he gets off on just how bad you fucking need this. Scratching your every last itch. His ruthless hands tear off your flimsy top, groping and pawing at your tits. "Yeah, 'course it is. You kinky little piece of shit."

"F-fuck...!" you scream, turned on beyond belief. His brutal dominance is everything you’ve ever dreamed; the filthy whore inside you instantly reacts, as he attacks. "Fuck, Jax..."

"Told you to shut your goddamn mouth," he grunts, one hand reaching to rip right through your panties so that he can plunge two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, pumping violently in and out. As his thumb flicks against your slick sensitive clit, he clamps his other hand across your gasping lips, your skin on fire beneath his fingertips. "So keep it shut. You filthy fucking slut."

Oh God, oh Goddd, he is so motherfucking hot. By now you are incapable of any other thought. The palm of his strong, calloused hand is so big that he easily smothers your whole snout and stifles your breathing. And you love the feeling, the heaven of staring up into his blazing blue gaze as he cuts off your airways, of sinking straight into the ultimate subspace... your mind is so blown you've forgotten your own fucking name.

Yet still you know you will remember his, always. Your world revolves around Jax Teller... you live only for his pleasure, now and forever, all day every day... you truly love it when he treats you like a worthless piece of shit. You have no shame.

Despite your consciousness being shattered to bits, somehow you're nonetheless aware that you just came.

"Ugh, look at you," he snarls, pulling his soaked fingers out of your pulsating slit, sticking them in your mouth to make you taste yourself just as he loves to do. Your juices have gushed out all over the floor, and his hands, and his pants, and the whole goddamn world. "Such a dirty girl. Squirting all over my kutte. Did I say you could cum, you dumb slut?"

No, he most definitely did not...

"You're disgusting," he snaps, pulling his hand off of your mouth at last, only to deal your cheek a sudden savage slap. Your inner slut is blissfully combusting. You're so weak and he's so strong. And then he holds your breathless mouth wide open with his thumbs... hocks up a thick wet wad of spit, and puckers up his slick pink lips, to shoot it straight onto your tongue. "Good-for-nothing scum."

By now you're so turned on that you've gone numb.

Jax spits on you again, and again, down your throat and all over your forehead and chin, humiliating you with laughter as he smacks your cheeks repeatedly and rubs his palm across your face to spread his spit around till every inch is fucking glazed. Sending you deeper into subspace.

Your pussy convulses in shameless disgrace, clenching tight around nothing, set to come undone again just from the sheer power of his fucking perfection. From the friction of his raging hard erection, through his jeans against your bare skin, the sensation of pure sin, his rough hands and ravenous mouth dominating and degrading you in all possible ways.

"You like being my dirty little punching bag?" he taunts, as if he has to ask; it's obviously everything you want. To be a damn fucktoy for Jax. He swiftly flips you over then, all of a sudden, to begin smacking your ass. "You want this big fat dick deep in your cunt? Mmm, know you do, slut. Gonna have to beg for that."

You try to beg, instinctively spreading your legs, desperate for fifty shades of filthy sex, as you sprawl out for him facedown upon the ground. And yet given the state you're in right now, somehow. you can't manage a sound.

He spanks your ass raw, as you squirm and struggle from beneath, gritting your teeth, striving to speak, wasted and weak, gaping your mouth so wide you'll probably break your fucking jaw. Still not a word comes out—nothing but choked whimpers and gasps for air, as his dominant fingers grab a fistful of your hair, lifting your head and tilting it toward him just to spit in your mouth, yet again and then slamming your head right back down. God, you love how he's letting his inner beast out and just going to town.

You quiver in bliss as you grovel in a puddle of his spit, the floor tiles pressed against your tits, high on the way he beats you like a low-down piece of shit. It's all you are to him at times like this. Overcome with arousal and unable to control yourself at all, your pussy aching as it drips, you start cumming again at the next words off of his lips. "You're such a stupid... fucking... bitch."

You squirt even harder this time around. Feels like you've drowned.

Jax deals your ass a final stinging spank, then twines his fingers in your messy hair again, forcing your head up off the ground with an aggressive yank. "Dumb fucking skank. See, I was gonna fuck that cunt tonight—stuff you full of this big dick until I cum inside, then fuck your throat and let you drink it all up—every goddamn drop, you dirty little slut... but you know what? You don't deserve it. Not when you've been such a pathetic piece of shit."

He blesses you with one more smack across the face, and one more shot of his sweet spit, laughing as you soak in the feel and the taste of such total disgrace.

Ughh, he is so fucking hot... he's an actual sex god... you think, as he throws you back down to the ground, letting you drown, lost in the pure filth of your perfectly satisfied kinks.

"So now you know what happens when I'm fucking pissed," Jax says, gloating at how you groan in bliss, letting your loving gaze worship his flawless face. "Next time you disobey, and piss me off like that, I'm gonna take out all my anger even harder on your sorry ass and make it hurt real bad. You got that, bitch?"

Oh God, fuck, yes. He's such a savage. To be honest, you just hope that is a promise...

And from the way he's smirking down at you like this, dirty and devilish—giving off such a dangerous dominance that's so fucking delicious—set to satisfy your deepest darkest wishes... you can tell that it most definitely is.

***************

... Sooo that was super filthy and I know Jax is an absolute asshole in this lol but I hope there are some kinky bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

***************

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*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

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306 notes · View notes

writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

Something Immortal

word count - 3k

warnings: suicide attempt, drug use, addiction, cursing, teenagers being gross

pairing: model!Todoroki x canon!Bakugo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy shit guys he posted!!" Mina squeals, vaulting herself over the couch to reach the rest of the Bakusquad sitting on the common room carpet. An old original copy of Monopoly splayed out in the center of their group.

"Ooh, show us! Show us!" Kaminari leans forward, swiping half of the properties off the board in the process.

Sero groans, "Dude you do this every time!!"

The blond pouts, "Hey it's your fault I was losing."

Kirishima just chuckles, picking up his dog piece from jail and throwing it into the box.

"Your smart people game can wait," Mina tugs on Sero's ponytail, "He hasn't posted in weeks."

"Oh my god he's so fucking hot," Kaminari's knee-jerk reaction is whispered as soon as he sees the post.

Todoroki Shouto, one of Japan- and America's- most well-known models. The teenager, who happens to be their age, regularly models for magazines like Vogue, Joker, and Elle. The teenager who has starred in countless American and Japanese short and independent films. The teenager who just so happens to be the son of the number one hero, Endeavor.

No one knows his quirk, but it just adds to the mystery. Some people theorize he's quirkless, but others think he's got a crazy dangerous quirk, which is why he's a model instead of an aspiring hero. Not like he's not perfect for the job, with his gorgeous bi-colored hair and heterochromatic eyes. The scar on his left side somehow only adds to his beauty. It doesn't matter what your sexuality is, you simp for Todoroki Shouto.

But that's the obvious, now this photo- this photo.

"It's ethereal, I've never seen him look so serene before."

"He's an actual angel."

"How is he only eighteen?!"

Mina nods as Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima go through the seven stages of grief just looking at the photo.

Kirishima's eyes dart to Todoroki's username... which is just Shouto. In fact, the Todoroki name isn't mentioned once on his account, a fact that has hundreds of conspiracy theories on its own.

"Hey Meens, can we stalk him real quick? I wanna see who he's following."

She grins, "Well anything for you, munchkin."

Sero snorts. Their couple nicknames never fail to amuse anyone within hearing range.

"Ugh gross," Kaminari gags as Mina giggles, swiping off of the picture (which already has over 600,000) and onto his main page.

It's simple, plain yet elegant in the way only a PR manager could manage.

The bio is a link to his most recent shoot with some magazine that Kirishima doesn't recognize, the profile picture is a rare shot of him smiling, a blue checkmark, and a follower count of over four million.

His following count, however, is the shocker.

"He only follows fourteen people?" Sero whispers, clicking on the number.

"Huh," Mina turns the phone slightly so she can see, "Who is he following?"

"Let's see," Sero squints, eyes scrolling down the list, "Hawks... his siblings... Mirko... some American models... his agency's profile... and- wait, isn't that Bakugo?"

"HAH?" Mina yells, whipping the phone around and clicking on the profile.

Sure enough, a slew of photos shows up on her screen, all of their resident blond pomeranian glaring at the camera in various locations.

"He- WHAT?? It must be a glitch!" Mina scrambles frantically, eyes darting across the screen.

"Uh, yeah," Kirishima chuckles, "a glitch."

Mina scrolls up numerous times as if refreshing the page will help.

"I mean what other explanation can you think of?! It's not like Thee Todoroki Shouto would know our Bakugou, they're totally in different leagues." Mina sounds absolutely scandalized, causing Sero to laugh.

"I don't know, Meens, the proof is right there. We should ask him about it!"

"And what- DIE?" Kaminari reasons.

Sero nods, "Fair point."

"Pussies." Mina stands, planting her manicured hands on the edge of the couch, "I'll ask him myself."

"I REFUSE." A fourteen-year-old Shouto screams at his father.

"what do you mean you refuse? Shouto she's a lovely girl, and you need to procreate while you're still young if you're not going to become a hero like I want. You get one or the other." Todoroki Enji grabs his youngest child by the arm to lead him out of the kitchen, but Shouto jerks out of his grip. "Wh- SHOUTO."

"I'm going to live with Fuyumi. She'll take care of me." He holds his ground, shaking his father off when he tries once again to physically lead him out of the room.

"OH?" Enji bellows a laugh, "And how do you expect she'll find the money to take you in? Raising a teenager is expensive, you know, and she's only a simple school teacher."

"She's not a simple anything. And I- I'll find a way. We'll be fine. I already talked to several agencies."

"...agencies?"

"Wait, Mina!!" Kaminari calls after the girl, but she's a woman on a mission and there's no stopping her.

They arrive at Bakugo's door in a heap, Kaminari clawing at Mina while she knocks calmly. Kirishima and Sero stand to watch because they have no idea what else to do. (They're just as nervous as Kaminari but they're more afraid of Mina if they're being honest.)

A crash comes from inside the room, but soon their resident angry boy is slamming open his door and glaring at them. The normalcy is comforting.

"Do you fuckers realize what fucking time it is?"

"Yes~" Mina coos sweetly, "I know old men need their sleep but it's only 8:30 and we have a question."

He sighs aggressively and stretches his arms behind his back, cracking his shoulders and then his neck, Kaminari whimpers in fear.

"Alright, what do you want pinky?"

She's practically vibrating with excitement at this point.

"Why is Todoroki Shouto following you on Instagram?"

Bakugo seems to mull over this for a moment, and then he just shrugs.

Mina nods like this answers any part of her question, "That's what I thought, funny glitch. He's pretty hot though, right?"

The rest of the group nods emphatically.

Bakugo scratches his leg with his other heel, "He's not ugly, I guess."

Mina waves her arms around in Bakugo's general direction, "See!!? Even the straight guy agrees!!"

"No one was disagreeing with you, Mina." Sero snickers.

Bakugo grunts, then promptly slams the door in their faces.

"Well I guess that was more than he'd usually do at this time, we're lucky we didn't get exploded." Kirishima muses.

Kaminari nods, shuddering at the thought.

"Welp! That answers our question!" Although it really didn't, no one was about to argue with Mina, "Anyway I'm going to bed."

"Say hi to your vibe for me!" Sero whispers after her.

She waves as she marches away, humming to herself.

Shouto stares at the street below.

He wonders if he'd die falling from a height like this. He hopes he doesn't hit anyone.

Slowly, he removes his expensive sneakers, dropping them on the modelling agency's roof beside him. It's breezy tonight, and Shouto, freshly sixteen, has nothing to live for anymore. So he won't.

Stepping carefully over the guardrail, not sure why since he's about to jump. Maybe part of him is still afraid.

Whatever he can get over it.

His thin frame wobbles in the wind, and he breathes deeply, too focused on relaxing to notice the roof door opening, and hurried steps coming up behind him.

A warm hand grabs him, almost startling him off the side of the building.

The interruption heaves heavy breaths in his ear as they both topple down onto the concrete floor.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Oh, it's Bakugo.

The only child of his manager, Mitsuki Bakugo, who happens to be a nosy little shit who can't stay out of other people's business.

"Get OFF" Shouto shoves him, frantically scrambling toward the railing again. He needs this.

"NO! Todoroki get the fuck back-"

"It's SHOUTO." blood spurts onto his gray sweater and he realizes with muted horror that he just elbowed his employer's son in the nose.

"Fuck I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He bends down, removing his trashed pullover, and holds it to his friend's nose.

Bakugo snorts, "Sorry- Shouto I mean." He winces when Shouto presses harder into his face, "I'll forgive you if you don't jump."

Shouto sighs, "You know why I was going to."

Bakugo visibly calms at the use of past tense, the outburst must have snapped him out of it.

"Your mom, right?" Shouto tenses.

"Yeah I- he barred me from ever seeing her again and I- I don't know what to do." He shudders and pulls his pills from his pants pocket.

He wonders what his mom would say if she found out her baby was addicted to drugs.

Bakugou frowns but lets his friend take the pill, not sure what to say.

"Fucking piece of shit. Is that even legal?"

"Legally the number two hero can do whatever the fuck he wants. We live in a flawed world, Bakugo.

"I- Shouto."

"Hmm?" Shouto collapses onto the ground, crunching the pill and sighing as he feels the effects start to take almost immediately.

"I care- I care about you, okay? So please let me help you. Let me get you help."

A tear slips down to Shouto's ear without his permission, he wipes it away as quickly as it came.

"I don't know, Bakugo. You haven't exactly seemed to like me in the past. Even though I like to think we're friends I know you don't feel the same." He frowns, admiring the shine of wetness on his palm in the moonlight.

Bakugo grumbles, "Don't fuckin' tell me what I do and don't feel. I really fuckin' care about you even though I'm an ass about it, okay? I'm not good with emotions so don't expect much from me. But I do want you to be happy and I don't think the uh- the pills are helping."

The blond holds out a hand and reluctantly Shouto slaps the container into it.

"Fine," he mumbles, "you're uh- not as bad as I thought."

Bakugo snorts, "You're just as bad as I thought, but I like you anyway."

Against his will, Shouto finds himself blushing, thankful that it's mostly hidden in the dark.

"C'mon," Bakugo gestures to his own chest, "I know you could use one."

Shouto whimpers as he curls himself into the blond's strong frame. He's built a lot of muscle since starting at UA this year.

A strong hand rubs along his back and Shouto finds he can't hold back his tears any longer as the shock starts to set in.

Fuck he almost just killed himself.

"Thanks, Bakugo."

"I almost just watched you die, you can call me Katsuki."

"Thanks, Katsuki."

"No problem, Shouto."

The Bakusquad once again finds themselves playing a game on the common room floor, this time Sorry, much to Sero's chagrin.

"Sorry!" Kirishima grins cheekily as he kicks Sero's piece back to his home base.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck you guys-" He groans, flopping back onto the loveseat behind him, only to get an eyeful of Bakugo Katsuki's ass, "Oh hey Bakugou!"

"Wh- OI TAPE FACE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE LOOKING-"

Sero snickers, patting Bakugou on the hip, "Sorry dude, it was literally right there."

Small explosions popped from Bakugo's hands as he growled down at Sero.

"Aw come on blasty he's just playing and WHERE are you going dressed like that???!!!"

Bakugo blushes and tugs his light blue blazer down farther.

"I have a date." He mutters, tugging his sleeves.

“Sorry,” Kaminari laughs, “I think I misheard you. Sounded like you said ‘I have a date.’”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “Because I do, dipshit.” He sighs, checking his -expensive-looking- watch, “Just watch the independent film awards when they’re on. I think it’s like four hours from now that it starts.”

“Whyyyy would you have anything to do with that?” Kirishima groans, very lost.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo grunts, digging his phone out of his pocket when it vibrates and checking something before humming and striding towards the front door.

He looks unusually elegant, hair slicked back probably as well as Bakugo’s hair can be, shirt tucked in, a few rings on his fingers, barely visible and yet beautifully drawn eyeliner. He’s… pretty.

The three remaining members of the Bakusquad, as well as the rest of the common room, sit there in awe as he shoves a permission slip in Iida’s blubbering face.

“I- Wh- Bakugo is this from Aizawa? You cannot just leave!!”

“Fuck off glasses, I have his fuckin’ blessing or whatever.”

“Bakugo!”

The blond shoots a middle finger off behind him and slams the door shut, leaving a stunned common room in his wake.

“Uh, well, that happened.” Jirou drones blandly from her place on the couch with Momo.

“Awards show watch party, anyone?!” Uraraka grins, standing, “I’ll get the mochi!!”

“I’ll make tea,” Momo stands as well, dusting off her perfectly clean jeans. Jirou groans at the loss of her girlfriend’s warmth and flops over on the couch.

“This is stupid, he probably got invited by some pro hero and he’s just going to yell at the paparazzi if he’s even gonna be there.” She pouts.

“Well,” Sero grins, “anyone wanna play Monopoly while we wait?”

Kaminari throws the Sorry board at his head.

“Alright, is everyone ready!!? The red carpet is about to start!!” Hagakure squeals, even though the entirety of class 3-A (minus Bakugo) is there.

“So… what exactly are we watching this for?” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck.

“Bakugo’s going to be in it apparently, the study group earlier saw him in the common room wearing a suit.” Ojiro answers.

“Not just a suit!!” Mina holds her hands out as if to deliver groundbreaking news, “A fancy suit.”

“Aren’t all suits fancy?”

“Shut up.”

“OOH LOOK there’s Arai Itō and Chiba Yoshida!! Aww, they’re so cute!” Uraraka swoons, clasping her hands together.

“I wonder when Kacchan is gonna come out, these things can take a while.”

“I honestly don’t even care, I heard Todoroki Shouto is nominated for an award this year!! Do you remember that really sad short film he was in about having an overdose? Gosh, I hope he wins.” Hagakure’s hair bow vibrates excitedly.

“THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!!!” She points at the bottom of the screen where a man in a pale blue dress has stepped out of a limo and onto the carpet, a heeled foot gracefully raising him to his full 6’2”.

“Holy shit he’s gorgeous.” Sero breathes, the reporters on screen basically saying the same thing.

Shouto reaches behind him and holds out a hand for the second person stepping out of the limo, broad shoulders, a shorter stature than Shouto especially with the heels, spiky blond hair, piercing red eyes-

…

“HOLY SHIT IS THAT BAKUGOU??”

The aerial camera pans down toward the blond, showing off his suit- which matches Shouto’s dress perfectly- and his, what appears to be professionally done hair.

“Holy shit does he have an undercut now!!?? We just saw him a few hours ago!” Mina screeches.

Momo shrugs, “They do that sort of thing for celebrities.” She sips her tea, unphased.

“Okay okay, we’re all ignoring the most important part. Kacchan is Todoroki’s date.” Izuku frantically waves his arms around.

“I didn’t know they knew each other,” Tokoyami muses.

“What the fuck is happening?” Sero asks no one in particular.

“Wait everyone SHUT UP they’re announcing awards!!!! Todoroki might win one! We can ask Bakugo about this when he gets back. Surely there’s an interesting story.” Uraraka chimes in, handing out mochi and popcorn.

The tv’s voice is muffled under the muttering of several class 3-A members, but Mina turns it up as the male announcer reads the winners of the award Todoroki is nominated for.

“AAAAAAAAND THE WINNER FOR BEST ACTOR IN A DRAMA SHORT ISSSSSSSSS…

TODOROKI SHOUTO!!! For his work in The End of Me and the incredible performance that shocked-”

Cheers ring through the dorms, popcorn goes flying, and Mina frantically shushes everyone as Shouto makes his way gracefully onto the stage. He accepts the award from the previous winner, bowing elegantly and stepping up to the mic.

“Hello everyone,” He begins, shooting a shy smile directly into the camera. It has always perplexed his fans how nervous he can be in real life compared to in his photoshoots. “This is a really important award to me, not only am I incredibly grateful to the panel for gracing this title upon me, but as of yesterday,” He smiles at the ground, taking a deep breath, “I’m two years clean.”

Shocked gasps ricochet through the award hall as well as through the crowd gathered around the tv.

“He did drugs, kero?” Tsu whispers.

“Mon dieux,” Aoyama shakes his head, pressing a hand to his chest, “how brave.”

Shouto clears his breath and continues, “In fact, that wasn’t the worst of it at the time, and I’m incredibly grateful to all who have supported me through my career. You keep me sane, and you keep me going. But especially, I’d like to thank my sister, brother, and my wonderful boyfriend-”

He holds an arm out to someone in the audience, and the camera pans to none other than Bakugou Katsuki, “who quite literally saved my life, and helped me drive myself back on track. I love you Katsuki, and you continue to improve my life every second that you’re in it.”

Most of 3-A are in tears at this point, and as Bakugo half-heartedly scowls into the camera, they can tell his eyes are shining too.

Shouto glances back at the camera as if directing his words to someone in particular.

“Thank you.”

And then he’s walking back down to his seat as the audience provides him with a standing ovation.

“THEY’RE DATING,” Mina sobs, shaking Kirishima’s shoulders as he sits, staring slack-jawed at the television.

“Yeah, yeah they are.”

Katsuki does NOT wipe tears from his eyes as he helps Shouto sit back down in his seat, but his boyfriend definitely does. His mascara, thankfully waterproof, still holds strong.

Shouto shoots him a watery smile, rubbing his arm as he pulls the blond into a hug.

“Happy two years, Katsuki.”

65 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Adventurous Spirit

Summary: Ashton becomes more and more of a (lovestruck) hippie.

Word Count: 1.6k

And away, and away we go!

Ashton’s adventurous spirit was what had drawn you to him in the first place. Sometimes you weren’t sure what he loved more: being a drummer or being able to travel the world as a result. All you knew was Ashton seemed most at home when he was on the road, making the most of every moment, and you were an absolute sucker for someone who loved life with that much fierceness.

With tour dates lined up, and studio time charted out, life at home buzzed with the excitement of what was to come. Then, the world shut down.

The first week, you watched anxiously as Ashton paced about the house, phone glued to his ear as plans B through Z were discussed and refined, tension slowly building up in his neck and shoulders. But with an album release so close, the feeling of restlessness didn’t get a chance to settle in, and for that you were grateful.

About a month and a half into lockdown, you found him sitting on the couch, staring blankly into space. “Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to him, and pulling him out of his trance. “You good?” you asked, your fingers dragging slowly up and down his arm.

“Hmm?” he questioned, giving a small shake of his head. “Oh… Yeah, I’m good, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Ashton shrugged. “It’s hard to put into words. Like, I’m thankful for the time to slow down. Because I know I sometimes worry you with how much I work. And my body could probably use the rest. But not knowing how long this lasts is… It fuckin’ sucks. Because there were a lot of things I always said I’d do if I just had the time. And now I do. But how much time? How long am I stuck here?”

“Well” you started with a slight teasing tone, “I’m pretty sure you have time to make a garden, and get some chickens if you’re really dedicated to that.”

He giggled lightly, then sighed. “I just hate not knowing. I don’t want to lose myself.”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that. Just take it one day at a time, and go from there.”

“I suppose that’s true. And hey, I got you, right?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Cuz I need you more than I can put into words.”

“I love you too, Ash.”

~~~

You both stared at the box of Superbloom merch, you in awe, and Ashton somewhat dejectedly. “Oh, c’mon!” you urged, nudging into his shoulder. “You could be a little excited. You worked hard for this.”

“I am…” he defended. “But I want to do more.”

“More with the release? Or more solo stuff?”

“More with the release. I want to celebrate. I want a chance to play it live. I want everything the guys and I wanted with Calm, and this shit,” he thrust an angry finger in the direction of the window, “won’t go away!”

“So let’s celebrate.”

“How?!”

“We get tested, and we get out here for a bit. Camp in the desert under the stars for a few nights. I dunno. We’ll figure it out.”

“That… is not half bad. But that only solves one of my problems. I miss performing, babe.”

“Virtual concerts are a thing, you know.”

His eyes lit up in a way you hadn’t really seen for months, before he was kissing you passionately. “You! You’re a fuckin’ genius!”

You laughed against his mouth. “Thanks, I try.”

His forehead knocked against yours, his eyes holding yours steadily. “You are everything to me.”

~~~

If there was a downside to suggesting a weekend getaway for the Ashton’s album release, it was that it revived his desire to travel, and the desire was now stronger than you ever remembered it being.

“You’re becoming a hippie,” you joked as you guys woke up in the back of a pick up truck in the middle of nowhere.

“Becoming?” he laughed. “Thought I always was.”

“Well, it’s becoming more prominent now,” you laughed with him, running your hands through his hair. “I don’t think you’ve let your hair get this long since 2016.”

“Ah yes, the first hippie Ash stage. I’ve learned a lot since then.”

“So this is Hippie Ash 2.0?”

“The new and improved hippie.”

You both broke out in a fit of giggles, before you sighed in content, curling yourself into his side. “So where to next?”

“Anywhere we fuckin’ want to. Well… within reason. The guys and I are discussing the next album.”

“Shit, already?”

He shrugged. “Might as well. Gotta be prepared for when the world opens up again. Wanna hit the ground running. Make up for lost time.”

“Well, fuck. Let’s go somewhere with the guys then. A working vacation.”

“Working vacations are my favorite types of vacation. But after the holidays. I’m getting used to lazy vacations where it’s just me and you, and I’m not ready to give that up just yet.”

“Oh, some place with snow would be cool. Maybe a cabin so we don’t freeze to death.”

He took the hint, pulling you into him with the blanket. “Sounds perfect.”

~~~

You awoke to an empty bed, sunlight, light laughter, and weed smoke filtering in from the open window.

“Morning, Luke,” you greeted as you found the blonde in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

“Mornin’,” he nodded, side stepping out of the way of the coffee machine. “Still practically a full pot if you want a cup.”

“Nah, I’m good for now. Ash?”

“Outside getting high with Cal.”

“Fuckin’ hippie…” you chuckled, headed for the front door of the cabin, Luke’s own laughter following you out.

Calum had a camera in his hand, pointed at Ashton who sat on a couch in his robe, a random disarray of items scattered nearby on the ledge of a firepit. “Oh, hey, Y/N!” Calum said, noticing you first, as Ashton looked over his shoulder at you.

“Hey guys,” you smiled, taking a seat next to Ashton on the couch and leaning into him. “Starting the morning off on the right foot?” you asked with a pointed glance at the ashtray with the cigarettes and blunts.

“Oh, yeah,” Ashton drawled, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Ever think you lean into the hippie stereotype a lil too much?”

“Nah. Haven’t gone completely off the grid.”

“Yet,” Calum snickered. “There’s still time. Luke kinda did, and I’ve never seen him happier.”

“I dunno. I’m already pretty fuckin’ happy.”

“That’s true,” Calum nodded, then clapped a hand against his leg. “I’mma head back in. Maybe shower. Maybe get another cup. You guys good?”

“Yeah, we’re good, mate.”

“You know,” you spoke up as Calum headed back inside, “when this first started last year, I was really worried about you.”

“Worried about me? Why?”

“You said it yourself back then. You’ve always pushed yourself harder than you probably should. I mean, face it, Ash, you’re restless. I was worried about all the things you were worried about. That you’d get stuck, or lose yourself. But then, I dunno. I guess I stopped because I realized how silly it was to worry about you. I mean, you’re you. You’re always gonna make the most of whatever you’ve got. Even if what you got was a year that wasn’t anything like you originally expected it to be.”

“This year was harder than I anticipated. And I did get stuck, and I did get lost. Like those moments did happen. Because you’re right. I’m restless. I’m at my most relaxed when I’m constantly on the move, either doing something or working towards something. So, yeah. This past year fuckin’ sucked. But it was also everything I needed at the same time.”

“Sometimes you gotta lose yourself to find yourself?”

“Something like that, yeah. So, while this past year has taught me a lot, it’s also solidified a lot of things I already knew to be true. Like how I couldn’t have done any of this without you. More than that, I don’t want to do any of this without you. And I wasted too much time trying to reconcile how both you and the band can be the adventures I want to spend my whole life chasing before realizing that I don’t have to.”

“Ash…” you cut in softly. “I’d never make you choose between me and the band. Or me and anything, for that matter. I’m always going to support whatever makes you happiest.”

“No, I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. My life with you in it is what makes me happiest, because you are what makes me happiest. In a year where I didn’t know which way my life was going from one day to the next, the one thing I knew for certain was that I’d have you. It made the dark moments bearable, and the light moments much brighter. That’s not something I want to give up. You’re what I want, now and always. So,” he got up from the couch, reaching into the pocket of his robe as he sank to his knees in front of you. “Marry me.”

You gasped as he snapped open the little box and cool metal slid across your left ring finger, your mind in a whirlwind of both his sentiment, and the fact that he said “Marry me,” more as a direct statement. “Mrs. Hippie does have a nice ring to it.”

“So, that’s a ‘yes’?”

“It’s a million ‘yes’s, Ash. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you’re mine.”

Tag List

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#adventurous spirit #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

89 notes · View notes

jombocostello · 3 years

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Lost in Translation (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: Hey! Would you mind writing a little Polnareff fic where the reader tried to learn French pick up lines to finally drop some hints, but messes up/forgets a word and gets embarrassed? 🥺

Now this is just too sweet. I changed the request up a little bit, I hope you don’t mind!! (Also if you spot any mistakes with the French, please let me know!! I’m not sure how much my high school education of French prepared me for writing Polnareff fanfiction lmao)

-----

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

You jump, tearing your eyes from the book you're scouring. You look at Joseph, who's sitting a few feet away from you on his hotel bed. He frowns. "It's three in the morning. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I... Well..." You laugh nervously, attempting to discreetly slide the book under your pillow as you search for the right words. "Yeah. I probably should be."

Joseph stands up and turns on the lamp that sits between you two, and you wince when the light hits your eyes. "But seriously, what have you been doing?" he asks again as he sits back down. "I've been trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you muttering nonstop over there."

You can feel yourself start to blush, and you fix your eyes on the fascinating corner of the door behind Joseph. "Ah... I was just reading out loud. It helps me take it in better, y'know?" It's not a very good lie, and though you're not looking at Joseph, you know he's not buying it. "Half of enjoying a good book is visualization, isn't it?" You're audibly anxious.

"Fine. But what exactly are you reading?" You start to sweat; he's ruthless in his interrogation.

"Uh, it's... I mean you're probably not interested in it." Joseph's patience suddenly runs thin, and he leaps up and snatches the book out of your hand. "What the hell?" you shout, forgetting about the thin hotel walls and attempting rather aggressively to grab the book back.

Joseph, thanks to his powerful Joestar genes, is easily able to hold you off. "Hmm, what is... English-to-French dictionary...?" He looks up at you, confused, and you freeze. He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm failing to see what's so embarrassing about this. You want to learn a new language? More power to you - " Mid-sentence, he seems to come to a revelation, and you wince. You had almost made it out alive.

"...You're learning this for Polnareff, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" you mumble, gluing your eyes to the floor. "Yes."

You can hear him horribly containing his laughter. "You've - you've got dedication, I'll give you that!" Little giggles are starting to escape him, and as he suddenly begins to howl with laughter, you try again to grab the paperback out of his hands.

Without breaking a sweat, he shoves you back onto your bed and starts leafing through the book. "Oh my God," Joseph wheezes, wiping a tear away with one hand and holding the book close to his face with the other. "I mean I knew you had feelings for the guy, but I had no idea you loved him like this!" The word 'love' hits you viscerally and you cover your face with your hands, trying to push down your unbearable embarrassment. "Oh God, that's so cute."

"Shut up!" you hiss, finally managing to wrestle the book back from Joseph. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you spit with as much rudeness as you can muster.

"You don't have to explain a thing, my friend," Joseph replies without missing a beat. "I can read you like a book right now."

"Oh my God," you groan, turning away and looking down at the bed. Your face is on fire, and you gingerly set the book down next to your pillow and you fold your arms on your lap. "Just... Fine. You got me, okay?"

"I guess I did get you! I really didn't mean to." Joseph's laughter seems to have finally ended, and he watches as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry for laughing, (Y/N). I'm not trying to make fun of you, I promise - it's just so ridiculous that you're going to all these lengths to win Polnareff over when I'm sure it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Shouldn't be that... What do you mean?" You momentarily put aside your anger when you hear Joseph's words.

"Isn't it obvious? You two are perfect for each other. I'm positive that Polnareff shares your feelings."

"That's funny," you respond, huffing out a little laugh. "He's always flirting with girls, isn't he? I know you've seen him do it."

Joseph rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. That's just the way he is. He can be a bit...familiar with the young women he meets, but I'm fully convinced that you're the person he has his eyes on." Before you can interject with another rebuttal, Joseph speaks again. "Don't argue with me on this. I've been alive far longer than you and I've seen lots of people fall in love in this lovely world!"

You don't want to admit it, but Joseph's actually giving you some confidence here. "You, well... You might be right." Joseph grins. "I'm still gonna try to figure out some of this stupid language, though. I think he'll be happy to hear it - I mean, he's been away from home for a long time." You swing your legs up onto the bed and cross them, grabbing the book and flipping it open as you do.

Joseph marvels at the sheer concentration in your eyes as you force your way through the paperback dictionary. He can't believe how in love you are; it's honestly making him a little teary-eyed. "Well, goodnight," he says as he climbs back under the covers. "Want me to leave the light on?"

"If that's okay, yeah." Joseph nods and lays his head down on his pillow. As he shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he listens to you faintly mutter to yourself, "Je t'aime. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

The next day comes quickly, and unfortunately you haven't really slept enough to prepare for it. You'd stayed up all night after your little encounter with Joseph, so you're left with about an hour and a half of sleep to get through the day. You and Joseph quickly get ready, and you go to meet the rest of the group in the lobby.

You yawn loudly as you step out of the elevator, and Joseph takes a second to laugh at you before following. You elbow him in the arm as you walk up to Jotaro, Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff. Kakyoin's still resting up in the hospital; you all miss him dearly.

"Good morning!" Avdol calls, watching as you shuffle into the little group. "Did you two sleep well?"

You simply shake your head, and Joseph laughs a little at your severe expression. "(Y/N) stayed up all night reading," he explains, but after you shoot a look his way he shuts his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Polnareff asks brightly, raising his eyebrows. You look up at him and feel your heart start pounding; if he asks what you were reading you think you might drop dead on the spot. "Didn't take you for the reading type."

You nearly laugh at that, looking incredulously up at Polnareff. "What the hell does that mean - are you calling me dumb?"

"No!" he says hastily, eyes wide. "I mean - maybe." You both start laughing now, and Joseph leaves to return the hotel keys and check out. "In all seriousness," Polnareff starts with a little smile on his face, "I just didn't think you could sit still long enough to enjoy a novel. You seem like a more active person, I guess."

You honestly can't - your little French study sessions have been nothing short of torture. Still, you just shrug. "Everyone enjoys a good story, don't they?"

"Yeah." Polnareff turns to Jotaro and Avdol, who have been chatting to each other. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asks, leaning against the wall behind him.

"Well..." Avdol thinks to himself for a moment. "We're a few hours away from Cairo. I think we should stay here for a while longer and then start heading there at around midday - so we can arrive under the cover of night."

"You're a good strategist, Avdol," you comment. "I would've just had us all drive into the city and parade around to find a hotel."

Avdol huffs out a laugh. "As much as I'd like to do that, our lives are in danger. We'll have to be really careful once we get to Cairo. I'm sure Dio has eyes everywhere."

"Yeah." You turn to Jotaro, who's been silent so far. Iggy's on the ground next to him, looking as pissed off as a dog possibly can. "How did you sleep last night?"

He just shrugs. "Same old. It was nice having the room to myself, save for this little asshole." He jabs his thumb in Iggy's direction, and you snort. "But yeah, it was fine. I just wanna get this over with. I've been..." He glances down at his shoes. "I've been thinking about my mom."

You'd almost forgotten about the original reason Joseph and his grandson set out on this mission. You had heard from the Foundation a few days ago that Holly Kujo's condition was only worsening. "You're gonna see her soon, huh? When we get to Cairo we'll practically be in Dio's backyard."

Jotaro nods. "Yep. Can't wait to beat the shit out of him."

You grin and nod vigorously. "I'm with you there."

Joseph returns to your little group, and the five of you all huddle together. "So," he starts, taking a deep breath. "Are you thinking we should wait, Avdol?"

"Yes. I was just saying that we should give it a few hours before we get on the road."

Joseph seems satisfied with that answer. "Perfect. So until then... I guess we can do a bit of sightseeing! We should pair up and try to stay at least a little close by. I'll stick with Avdol, and Jotaro - would you mind going with Iggy? If anything happens, both of your stands would be more than capable of taking care of things." Jotaro rolls his eyes and hums in agreement. "Okay. That leaves you two."

The sheer glee in Joseph's shit-eating grin as he looks at you and Polnareff honestly astounds you. Polnareff doesn't seem to notice, and he looks down at you. "Well this'll be fun! I haven't gotten to spend much time with you in the past couple days, (Y/N)." There's a pure affection in Polnareff's voice as he speaks to you, and you feel yourself fall even deeper in love. "We'll see you guys here in three hours, alright?" Joseph nods, waving goodbye with a sickly sweet smile, and Polnareff takes your hand and drags you through the revolving door.

The sun feels great on your skin. You follow Polnareff out, looking at your hand clasped in his as he leads you down the street a ways. He makes you feel so, so happy, and you're overcome by the desire to tell him that. "Where are you going?" you call, laughing a little when you realize you've been following him without having a clue where he's taking you.

He halts suddenly, and you run right into his back. "Oh, shit! Sorry." He spins around and rights you, peering down at your face. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"N-no." You wince and feel your nose, which had rammed right into one of his shoulder blades. "I'm all good." After a thumbs-up for confirmation, Polnareff is satisfied. "So we're here?"

"Yep!" Polnareff gestures to the shop you're standing in front of. It's a café by the looks of it, and it seems pretty nice. "We passed it while we were driving in yesterday."

"Oh, cool!" Polnareff heads inside and you follow him. At the counter, Polnareff orders a couple pastries and two espressos for both of you. Once he gets his order, he hands you your espresso and walks out the door. He's really intent on getting the most out of these few hours of respite, it seems.

"Now that we have some food," he says, gesturing to the little bag of desserts, "we can have a picnic!" He starts walking briskly down the street, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

"Did you spot this on the way in too?" you ask. He nods. "Damn, I missed so much. I was sleeping." He laughs, and you join in. After a few more minutes, you reach your destination.

It's a little park that overlooks a small, tranquil pond. "Oh, this is neat!" you say. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah." You look up at Polnareff as he gazes out at the scenery. You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time; he's usually being pestered by Iggy or attacked by some enemy stand user. You're really grateful that you get to share a calm, sweet moment with him before you have to head out to battle in Cairo.

You decide to take a seat on the grass a few feet away from the pond. Polnareff sits down beside you and carefully sets his espresso down on the grass, making sure it doesn't spill, and you do the same. You cross your legs as Polnareff reaches into the bag and pulls out a pastry.

"For you," he says, bowing his head as he hands you a croissant.

You laugh as you take it from him. "I'm honored," you reply, dipping your head in mock gratitude to Polnareff. He smirks a little and takes out a croissant for himself, leaning back and taking a big bite. You try yours, and it tastes amazing. "You're got a good eye," you tell Polnareff, your voice a little muffled as you eat. "This is really good."

"Well it's only natural that I would have an eye for cuisine," he replies with a smug grin. You reach over and slug him in the arm, and he lets out a startled laugh when you hit him. "Hey! It's true." You sigh and turn towards the pond, watching the little ripples in the water as the breeze gently brushes over it. Polnareff's still laughing a little beside you, and the whole scene suddenly feels completely and utterly romantic. You realize with a start that this is the perfect moment to try out your newly acquired language skills!

You pick up your espresso and take a sip; it's just as good as the food had been. Tentatively, you look over at Polnareff and find him staring out at the pond. "C'est un bon café," you say as nonchalantly as you can.

Polnareff nods and smiles faintly. "Oui, je suis d'accord," he replies, but the second the words leave his mouth he whips his head around, staring at you with wide eyes. "What did - did you just - was that French?" he sputters, starting to grin like an idiot.

You return the smile, nodding. "Oui. I'm glad you could understand me."

"Glad I could - God, (Y/N), you're so - " Polnareff suddenly reaches out and wraps you in a huge hug, knocking the wind from you as he practically pulls you into his lap.

"H-hey!" you yelp, laughing loudly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He sighs, placing his hand at the base of your neck, and you feel a shiver run through you. After a moment, he pulls away and beams at you.

"I didn't know you knew French!" he says brightly; he looks ecstatic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it until a few days ago," you tell him with a little smile. "I've been picking it up little by little. I still barely know anything."

"You've been...learning it?" he asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah! I found a little dictionary at a shop about a week ago, and that's actually what I stayed up all last night reading. Can't say that I'm grasping it very well, but I'm giving it a shot just for you!" The smile drops from your face a bit when you notice that Polnareff's expression has grown somber.

"(Y/N)..." Your eyes widen when you notice tears welling up in Polnareff's eyes. "You've been such a good friend to me. You're always there to make me smile, and well, you've saved my life a few times too. But this, I - you don't know what it means to me."

You reach out and take his hands in yours, a little clumsily. "You're the one who makes me smile. You're my best friend." You're suddenly made acutely aware of the butterflies in your stomach, and you suck in a deep breath. It feels like it's now or never. "Polnareff, there's something I want to tell you." He blinks the tears from his eyes, and you hold his hands a little tighter. "I really - "

Before you can finish, you're punched in the jaw by an impossibly powerful fist. You fly back, landing hard in the grass a few feet away. As you stumble to your feet, swearing and clutching your face, you summon your stand. It fucking figures there's a stand user here. Sometimes you wonder if you're some sort of stand magnet.

Polnareff frantically pulls himself up and dashes over to you. "(Y/N)!" he shouts, holding you by the shoulders and looking at your jaw. "Shit, are you alright?!"

You wince when Polnareff ghosts his fingers over the spot. "Probably not," you mutter, breathing in sharply through your nose. Polnareff freezes, and you shrug his other hand off of you. "We've gotta beat this guy, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Polnareff summons Silver Chariot and stands against your back, scanning the area for the stand or its user. You do the same, trying to push the pain out of your mind. "There!" Polnareff suddenly shouts, and you twist your head around.

It's a man; he's standing on the other side of the pond. He stalks up to the two of you, and as he walks, his stand slowly materializes behind him. It's extremely threatening, with a build that could rival Star Platinum and deep-set, bright red eyes. You force yourself to approach him and Polnareff follows you. Your stand is an archer, suited for long-range battle, and Polnareff's works better at a closer range, so you're usually able to cover each other's blind spots. Your stand pulls out an arrow and nocks it, aiming for the head of your enemy. "(Y/N), right?" he calls, a lax smirk on his face. "And Jean Pierre Polnareff." He and his stand take another step forward, and you tense. Polnareff's Silver Chariot is ready to strike at any moment. "Easy, easy!" he says, raising his hands on either side of his head. "I'm a fair man. Allow me to explain my stand to you."

You glance at Polnareff, and after a moment of hesitation he nods his head. Your stand lowers its bow while Silver Chariot points its rapier to the ground. The man slowly and surely approaches the two of you, and his stand waits beside him. "Thank you. Truce for now?" You grit your teeth and will yourself to nod. "I'm glad. Well, my stand is the Seven of Swords. Essentially, it's extremely powerful. I doubt you'll be able to get a single hit in, if I'm being honest." You can feel rage bubbling up inside you, and as hard as you try to fight it, you just can't kick the feeling. Your gaze flits to Polnareff; he looks just as angry as you.

Grimacing, you look back to the user. "My stand specializes in strength. Every punch it deals leaves a lasting effect - as I'm sure you've noticed, (Y/N)."

You want to scream. The smug look he's wearing and the searing pain in your face is all too much, and before he can continue, you have your stand quickly nock an arrow and fire. You hit him in his right shoulder - he had punched you with that arm - and he falls back, grasping at the wound. "Shit!" he shouts, leaning against his giant stand. With its left arm, Seven of Swords reaches out and yanks the arrow from its user's body.

You start to grin; it looks like you've knocked this guy down a notch. However, just when Polnareff moves to strike and you ready another arrow, he and his stand vanish. "What the hell?" Polnareff mutters, scanning the area. "Where could they have - "

"(Y/N), I'm disappointed!" You scream when the stand wraps its left arm around your neck, squeezing painfully but just lightly enough to let you remain conscious. The man leans in far too close and speaks. "You broke our truce. I suppose I can't be too angry... I wasn't exactly being completely truthful either." The stand's grip on you tightens, and you choke out a cough. Polnareff goes to slice through the arm around your neck, but before you even know what's happened, you're on the other side of the pond. Polnareff, now a great distance away, gapes at you before running over as quickly as he can.

"My Seven of Swords is a master of teleportation," the man announces. "Everything else is just a plus." His stand abruptly releases you, and as you gasp for air, the man grins. "I'm surprised by how easy it was to take care of you, (Y/N). Lord Dio had made you sound a lot tougher." You try to swear at him, but your voice is hoarse and barely understandable.

"(Y/N)!" You turn your head when Polnareff cries your name, and suddenly you're punched hard in the abdomen. You're knocked to the ground and your head smacks into the dirt, and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is Polnareff's face, equal parts anguished and enraged.

-----

The first thing you note when you fade back into consciousness is a strong pain in your midsection. You groan, forcing your eyes open; looks like you were rescued. You're in your hotel room, and it seems like you're alone. You glance over at the window, gritting your teeth as you shift your aching neck, and you nearly laugh out loud when you see that stupid little dictionary sitting on your bed.

You hear the door open, and you turn to find Polnareff stepping through the doorway. "Hey," you say, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

He looks down at the sound of your voice and grins. "Glad to have you back," he replies softly. "I'm so relieved that you're alright." He carefully sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course I'm alright." You crack a smile. "I wasn't gonna let that asshole kill me."

Polnareff laughs a little and nods. "Yeah, he was a real piece of shit. After he - after he knocked you out, I held him off for a little while until reinforcements arrived in the forms of Star Platinum and The Fool. The three of us had him crying like a baby."

"Thank God," you sigh. "He deserved it." You both fall into a little silence, neither of you quite sure of what to say. You remember exactly what you had been about to tell Polnareff when you were attacked, but you can't muster up the courage to try again now. "Even if it got fucked up at the end, thank you for the lovely afternoon," you finally say. "I really enjoyed our little picnic."

"So did I." Polnareff starts to speak more, but something catches his eye. You watch as he reaches over you and grabs something; it's the French dictionary. He peers down at it and starts flipping through the pages. Almost instantly he looks completely affronted, and you feel a laugh rise in your chest.

"What is it?" you ask him as he scoffs, shutting the book definitively and setting it back down.

"They made that thing so difficult to understand! It's so much simpler than that makes it out to be, really!" He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with the publication, and you let a little laughter escape. "How about this." He leans in towards you. "Instead of learning out of that stupid book, I can teach you! It'll be a lot more fun."

He's just so...charming. He's always so sincere, especially with you, and the pure kindness in his eyes as he speaks nearly takes your breath away. "That - that would be fun," you reply, too taken with him to think of anything else to say.

He grins. "Good. We can have your first lesson right now."

You laugh at that, making Polnareff jump a bit. "Already? What, am I gonna get homework too?"

He joins in on your laughter and shakes his head. "No, no, it'll be quick." Something in his expression softens, and you blink as he reaches out and places his hand gently over yours. He suddenly looks a lot more serious. "Tell me what I'm saying. Je suis amoureux de toi."

You open your mouth, softly whispering the words. Your mind's nearly a total blank; it seems you really didn't learn much from that dictionary. You're at least determined to get the beginning. "Ah... Je is 'I', so je suis would be 'I am', right?"

Polnareff nods. He wraps his hand around yours and holds it, just as he had earlier today. "Yes. Je is 'I', suis is 'am'..." He lifts his other hand and entwines it with yours. You're not sure what he's saying but you allow yourself to hope, just a little.

Polnareff's voice is hardly above a whisper as he says, "Je suis amoureux de toi - I'm in love with you."

A huge smile breaks across your face and you feel like you're floating. When Polnareff sees your reaction, his smile widens as well, and he leans down and wraps you up in a careful hug. "I love you too," you murmur in his ear; you think you might burst into tears if you try to speak any louder. "I have for a while now. I'm so happy you - " Despite your best efforts, you feel yourself start to cry. Polnareff leans back a bit, and you're almost amused to see that he's crying too. You probably look like a couple of lovesick fools, and you're so, so, happy.

"I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me, (Y/N)," Polnareff murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "How much it means to me that you care."

"Of course I care," you whisper back, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. "I care because you mean the world to me."

Polnareff looks down into your eyes, and you both take in each other's expressions. "You know, I think we're perfect for each other," he breathes, and as you start to agree, he moves forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

Nothing has ever felt more right than Polnareff's lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly can. He parts from you for just a moment to help you sit up a bit, so that he doesn't cause the injury to your midsection any pain. You wince when a particularly sharp pang of pain hits you, and Polnareff softly runs his hand over your hair. After a moment, the feeling dissipates, and you kiss him again.

"Je t'aime," you breathe against his lips, and he smiles. You gently kiss the corner of his mouth and then rest your head on his shoulder. As he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, you whisper, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

It's pitch black out as Joseph drives the group's large car down the winding roads to Cairo, with only the faint radio and Avdol's occasional snores to keep him company. He isn't exactly happy about driving in these conditions, but you had needed a few extra hours of bedrest before you could start this little road trip. Every once in a while, he glances at the back seat, and he finds you, Jotaro, and Polnareff all fast asleep.

After a couple hours of driving, Joseph hears someone stir behind him. He glances up at the rearview mirror and watches as Polnareff rubs his eyes and groggily looks to his left. You're sleeping against him, with your head on his shoulder and one arm loosely wrapped around his midsection. Polnareff's mouth turns up in a little smile, and he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"So I see everything worked out for (Y/N)," Joseph comments. Polnareff looks up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed to find he was being watched, and Joseph just laughs shortly. "I've always known you two were going to end up together. You really are a perfect fit."

Polnareff's face goes red and he looks back at you. "...Yeah. I'm really lucky."

"Oh, I know!" Joseph laughs again, startling Polnareff. "You should've seen (Y/N) last night, pouring over the French language like their life depended on it. They wanted so badly to make you happy after this hell we've been through."

Polnareff almost feels like crying again. He can't believe how truly lucky he is to have found you. "Still," Joseph says, "it's not quite over yet." Polnareff watches Joseph's expression turn somber through the rear-view mirror. "We've still got to kill Dio."

"Yeah." As he gazes down at you, so peaceful in sleep, he feels a fire light in his mind. He'd do anything to keep you alive, and while killing Dio will surely be extremely difficult, he knows he's going to do it - for Joseph, for Jotaro, for Holly Kujo, and for you. "We'll do it. We'll kill him and we'll all be fine."

"You're quite the optimist," Joseph mutters, sighing. "I try to be as well, but I'm worried that our luck so far will finally catch up to us in this final battle."

Polnareff isn't quite sure what to say, but now there's no doubt in his mind that they'll succeed in the fight against Dio. He just sighs, careful not to disturb you, and rests his head against the car window. "Do you want me to stay awake with you?" he asks Joseph.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there pretty soon." Polnareff nods and shuts his eyes, and Joseph quickly turns his eyes back to the road.

As Polnareff begins to doze off, he gently clasps your hand in his. He hasn't had a home for a long time; ever since he lost his sister, he hasn't known that feeling of having somewhere - or someone - you truly belong with. Now, next to you, he dares to hope he's feeling it again. He's always loved you, he's realizing - you've always made him feel this way, whenever you joked around together or fought side-by-side in battle. Knowing that you feel the same was the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Just before he falls asleep, he whispers a gentle, "I love you." He holds your hand a little tighter and finally drifts off.

Joseph casts one final glance at the two of you in the back seat. Unlike Polnareff, he's a little more worried about the potential outcome of the face-off with Dio. Maybe, though, just maybe - the endless love you two possess for one another will be what wins the fight.

#my writing #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #polnareff imagine #jojo x reader #jjba imagine #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #seven of swords guy was basically steely dan with a cooler stand #also thank you to madame sofia coppola for the title sorry for stealing it

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coolnerdyandalone · 4 years

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on FIMQ deleting her content and COVID-19 (and a gratuitous larry fic rec)

@freddiesmyqueen first of all queen i hope you’re doing ok although i know some shit must have gone down for you to delete/private list all your videos and i hope you know that the larry community supports you always. Also your talent is TRULY unmatched in the world of video editing - no one makes edits quite like you and that’s why your loss impacts the community so profoundly.

secondly, i know at least i was hoping to turn to rewatching all of FIMQ’s videos while i’m being quarantined due to the coronavirus. and i’m willing to bet that i’m not the only one. this is a scary time and for people like me who feel profoundly alone right now, the only way for me to calm my nerves and fears is by reverting to the content and community that helped me feel not so alone when i was in middle and high school. For me, that looks like watching FIMQ videos and reading my favorite larry fanfics (which i will also link below). because of this i thought it might be helpful to repost some links that were posted by @bluemoonlarryandkaylor for a signal boost (if my teeny-tiny account can be called a signal boost).

link to a google drive with FIMQ videos: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1ONwfLOd_IYvAL5OUDqDb_LLgQsDpd9il

link to an acct with some FIMQ re-uploads: https://www.youtube.com/user/Joana3961/videos

link to FIMQ vids with spanish subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIouodFhArMkQhOHxv2t2NgxTwl6KvXAT

and now if you want to look at some good old fashioned larry fics that are my ABSOLUTE faves and could 100% be actual novels/movies, keep reading:

And Then A Bit** by @infinitelymint aka the best fanfic ever written (basically larry fakes a relationship for publicity with each other and it could be cannon if you really wanted to hope upon hopes): https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415272/chapters/2972746 (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Escapade** by @haydolce aka the Jack McQueen fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034197/chapters/9071932 (146k)

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

California Sold** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157680/chapters/11877494 (123k)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Bring Your Body Baby (I Could Bring You Fame) by @theboyfriendstagram : https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263903/chapters/9652944 (84k)

Eighteen year old Harry Styles just graduated high school and landed a summer job as a waterboy for his favorite football team. His job description is simple: be ready to hand water and towels to players if needed. That didn’t seem to include Louis Tomlinson though, a twenty-three year old, recently transferred Paris Saint-German player, who seems to like making Harry’s job much more difficult than it has to be.

A self-indulgent AU that takes place over the summer of 2015. 18 year old Harry hates pining after people he can't have, and 23 year old footballer Louis loves flirting with people even though it never means anything.

Pull Me Under** by @zarah5 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/870766/chapters/1672104 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

You You You** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/846690/chapters/1617212 (137k)

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

Like an Endless Summer by @horsegirlharry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365494/chapters/25442085 (87k)

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Three French Hems by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064493 (20k)

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

The Dead of July aka the Marvel Fic by @whimsicule : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594570/chapters/7928520 (117k)

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Gods & Monsters by @mizzwilde : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871 (201k)

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Love is a Rebellious Bird aka LIARB aka the orchestra fic aka dont hum bolero by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438/chapters/2362331 (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

My English Love Affair** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873962 (19k)

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by @haydolce : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799241/chapters/13366498 (113k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Wild and Unruly aka the Cowboy fic by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723093/chapters/6099611 (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December)** by @greenfeelings : https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051122/chapters/34892210 (128k)

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

the boys of fall** aka the american football fic by @godgavemelou : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443037 (21k)

“And everyone, this is Harry Styles. He’s going to be our starting quarterback this year.”

Louis looks at him, the tall and lanky Harry Styles, and takes it all in. He’s got hair to his shoulders that curls at the ends, tattoos all down his arms, and a bright smile on his face as the team cheers him on. He’s lean and fit, and absolutely beautiful, and Louis hates him to the core.

OR an american football au where the boys play for the university of tennessee, and harry and louis quite hate each other.

** indicates that the fic is a log-in required fic, but if you want the pdf i can send it to you

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

Note

⭐ do you have any crumbs about tidal? ⭐

TIDAL MY MONSTER CHILD MASTERPIECE

Endless crumbs, but I'm going to try to remain circumspect. Three fun scenes. Bold for commentary from here on out!

Cassian knew all the rumors.

Cassian has been ACTIVELY SEEKING OUT THE RUMORS. Their careers circle each other- their stats make them nearly level on a playing field that barely even exists. Cassian thinks Nesta in combat is like...the platonic ideal of a drift pilot.

All the stories- Serene Majesty’s design included armor made from Kaiju bone (TRUE, THANKS PROFESSOR VANSERRA), Serene was painted to match the exact blue shade of her older pilot’s eyes (False, but a very sexy coincidence that absolutely made it into war propaganda), Serene’s nuclear core was the oldest still running, and they were lucky she hadn’t melted the ocean floor of the Bering Strait right down to the mantle.

Fact: Nesta Archeron had solo piloted forty-one minutes longer than the nearest record holder, who’d died in minute sixteen.

Can you hear Cassian's admiration? That LONGING for partnership. The raw appreciation of skill. MHM BABE YOU ARE NOT LOOKING RESPECTFULLY AND YOU KNOW IT Story: Nesta Archeron called him a patchwork dickbag within moments of meeting him, and proceeded to kick his ass, before they even let them drop test.

Picture, if you will, the very Fun Mako/Raleigh fight with the poles? the compatibility test? Right. That. Tank tops. Barren light and sweaty skin. REALLY GOOD HAIR. But a hand-to-hand fight.

Cassian: oh fun yes fuck let's do this lets see how we move together, come play Archeron

Nesta: walks right up to him and clocks him

The first thing Elain said when she saw Asani was, “Oh, Nesta.”

And despite the fact that Nesta felt more like climbing bare through the Breach than getting in a jaeger with the man, she knew what her sister was seeing. The smile- two dimples on the right but one of the left. Close-cropped dark curls getting just long enough to assert themselves.

Shoulder and arms and everything that matched the face saying- you’re looking at a sculpture. You’re looking at a person whose whole being might as well have been idealized from an artists eyes.

14 drops, 12 kills. Only two back to back drops in the same jaeger.

Hand to hand combat elite. Muay Thai. Second generation marine.

Charm that had cracked Amren.

Elain: Nesta that man is more your type than Your Type. HE CAN KEEP UP WITH YOU. He's not afraid of you. “I know,” Nesta said. Nesta: YES I WANT TO CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN

Elain arched a pale brow- different color, same shape- and hummed. “And he’s?” Elain: a perfect lock, a fucking doom, a sync so deep and long lasting you probably can't drift with ANYONE ELSE? “Yep.” Nesta: Yes. Nesta to Nesta: SO I'M PROBABLY GOING TO END UP ACCIDENTALLY KILLING HIM IN FUCKING DRIFT LIKE I DID YOU- THAT PERFECT STUPID ASSHOLE- Quietly, Elain swore.

She stole the binder out of his hand- they both pretended he hadn’t already been holding it out, that their reaches hadn’t perfectly, on time, overlapped. STILL GHOSTING BESTIES

She opened it. “Mhmm. Where are we from? Easy, we’re both American. Do we have siblings?” She snickered. “Yes. Where did we go to school? Places that are under the ocean now.”

GUYS guys guys they are both from places that no longer EXIST. They both came of age in war! they both, in a fucked way, thrive in the war. It's what they have- the infinite drift, purpose, and their siblings who are a direct part of that. Cassian tried to take the binder back. She shut it on his hand. “That gave us the childhood trauma book?” AMREN IS GOOD AT HER JOB (AND FUCKING WITH NESTA) She flicked the hand he hadn’t moved, lodged between the pages. “Origin stories, Asani.” Nesta is a fucking NERD and she likes the shape of Cassian's name in her mouth. “We already know all of this, Archeron,” He sighed, and she finally let him pull back. “Wanna flip?” It seemed like a trap- it felt like…fun. Cassian had the distinctly wild thought that Nesta must have been a nightmare in first level training, and half wished he’d seen it. Had her voice already contained that murder drawl at sixteen?

The only thing messier than baby! Feysand would have been Baby Nessian. It would have been on sight. It would have been a CATASTROPHE. they would have fucked it up so hard and then longed for each other for years until like...out of the blue eloping the very next time they crossed paths. No hesitation.

Cassian leaned forward, propped elbows on knees. “Go ahead.” He might have said it like a challenge- Nesta’s face might have brightened in catlike pleasure.

“Cassian Karam Asani. Twenty-seven years old, in service since your eighteenth birthday.” She was watching his face, and Cassian could do little but stare back. “You grew up on the East coast. Have an older brother. You’re a caffeine addict who likes to box. Dad died when you were ten.You have your mother’s green eyes and your paternal grandfathers face.” Her gaze flickered up, caught him.

Cassian could hear his heart hammering in his chest, pull from the rise and fall of his ribs too fast. “That’s not in my file.”

Cassian to the world: calm, cheerful, good at his job. Cassian to himself: Sure I'm Good at this Sure I Can Feel Her in my BONES- sure i definitely fucked this up- there's no way nESTA WANTS TO KNOW ME- SHE CAN'T POSSIBLY-

Nesta: it's real bitch “We dropped, Asani.” More than a drop, a successful drift. He didn’t need to say it, Nesta was already sniping in victory. “You love strawberry matcha cake.” “I can make it, too,” Cassian shot, with forced lightness.

Cassian: I COULD MAKE IT FOR YOU? what else did you see? if I'm yours...you're mine? please.

“Nesta Iseult Archeron. West Coast. Your mom taught literature, which is how you got that name. She died when you were twelve. You’re the older sister. You’re also a caffeine addict. Three tattoos. You miss sparring with your sister, and it makes you feel like shit. You horde Korean moisturizer.” “Eight tattoos.” She didn’t mean herself. SHE'S GOING TO LEARN THEM WITH HER TEETH YALL

“You hate the color blue.” hELLO, Trauma She laughed, and it wasn’t particularly joyful. “Your brother’s downstairs in the labs.” “Wrong.” Realer smile, he wanted to keep talking, “I have two.”

Nesta recrossed her legs, the entire table monopolized. “Middle child?’

An outstretched brown hand, tilted back and forth, “Azriel is only a year older than me. My other brother is…more complicated. Much younger. Az and I half raised him, but we don’t really talk.” And Nesta, mystifyingly said, “Me too. Two sisters, I mean.” She rolled her shoulders, made a face that said fuck, as her mouth continued with, “I’ve been trying to keep her out of a jaeger since she was fourteen.”

Nesta casts them IN THE SAME ROLE in her head. The middle child thing trips her for precisely two seconds and then. of course. Yeah, of course. “Three Archerons in the corps? Thats”- “The Admiralties wet dream, I know. She’s good- she’s so, so good, but I’m trying to make sure she grows up first.”

Nesta: OVER MY DEAD FUCKNG BODY WILL MY BABY SISTER GO FIGHT THIS WAR

“Rhys can’t drift. He’s Airforce now, incredible- twenty years ago, he’d be on tract to be an astronaut, but now-“ I loved making Rhys finally bad at something? He's a smart, angry kid thrashing around in a difficult world. He's SO CLASSICALLY YOUNG AND STUPID ABOUT EVERYTHING “Now the world is gone to shit?” “Tried to, at least.” Her laugh was nearly silent, small. Real.

Cassian looked at Nesta, and Nesta looked at Cassian.

The Look. The i SEE YOU AND YOU SEE ME, no this changes nothing, no this changes everything Look-

Amren is very, very, VERY good at her job, have I mentioned that?

#author commentary: all yelling???#Tidal is my favorite nessian ever babes #there's so much weird little meta shoved into the very stripped down format #just #Nesta punching Cassian in the face within ten minutes of meeting him!#Cassian #seeing Nesta as somehow on this other level #but Nesta always seeing them as the SAME #Elain clocking in three seconds flat that this is going to be ridiculous!#Thanks for the ask babe

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