#and it feels much better to be the one to say that he can leave right? at least he doesn't look pathetic and like he NEEDS him to stay

[lymtw]

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

Toji laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. "Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

#toji #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x you #dilf toji #jjk toji x reader #jjk fushiguro

[dazednmatthews]

for now, let’s get away ~c. sturniolo x reader

drummer!chris x reader au

this took me i’m not kidding three weeks to finish and i still hate the end omfg. i hope yall like it. this was the chris fic i was teasing for fucking ever. this shit is 7.7k words.

this is the second to last thing i have to post before i leave 🥹. all that’s left is the finale to number neighbors (ik i said two more parts but i changed my mind cause the part 15 was pretty much perfect and there’s nothing more for me to do but end it on a funny silly note so). i love u all so much pls tell me what u thinks bout this i worked so fucking hard LOL. okay bye MWAH ENJOYYYYY

there’s lights flashing, smoke billowing through the air and scattered screams floating through the semi-crowded bar. y/n sits with her group of three, nursing a too-strong cocktail, watching the band on stage with interested eyes.

her eyes keep wandering back to the drummer, a long haired, brunette that’s hammering down on his instrument like there’s no tomorrow. she’s already deduced that they’ve got to be siblings, him and the lead, because honestly she thought she was seeing double from the moment her and her friends walked in.

they’re performing a cover of hole in the earth, by deftones, a song that she adores, which is honestly making her shift in her seat slightly. the drummer wears a long sleeved, black and white shirt, red stars on the shoulders. his hair is falling down into his face, which he pushes back in between his parts, causing the light to reflect off of a silver bracelet hanging off his wrist.

y/n’s been staring at him shamelessly the entire performance. he’s hot and talented and she’s a little bit tipsy so her art of subtlety is very much off. not that she cares.

he’d been looking at her too, periodically through the show. she’d caught his eyes more than once, opting for a small smirk and look away, usually to his carbon copy on the mic. it makes him shake his head with a smile every time.

her attention is shifted from the stage when her best friend nudges her. “you and the drummer have been eye fucking since the moment they got up there.” there’s teasing to her tone and y/n just shrugs.

“well, look at him,” she claps when they announce that they’re done for the night and start to thank the crowd. “how could i not?”

her other friend, who’s standing in front of her nods with a dreamy sigh, “you’re so real for that. i think i’ve been staring open mouthed at the singer for like half an hour.”

y/n laughs, looking back at the stage. she’s disappointed to see the band gone, their empty set up the only thing left in their wake. she picks up her drink, finishing it, before calling the bartender over to get another one.

before she can say anything though, a voice cuts through. “whatever she wants, make it two.”

y/n looks up, surprise filling her face. mr drummer man was right beside her, damp hair and wide smile blinding her. she raised an eyebrow before giving her order, then turning in her stool to face him.

“do you typically buy drinks for every girl that’s at your shows?”

he laughs, short and breathy. “only if they look like you do.” he says, leaning forward so she can hear him better. “and if they spend my entire set staring me down with eyes as pretty as yours.”

warmth spreads through her cheeks, but she doesn’t falter. “nice one.” she takes a sip as the drinks are placed in front of them. “wonder how many times you’ve used that one.”

drummer boy leans his elbow on the bar, slotting his body in the space between her and the person in the next seat. “maybe like, six times. but it doesn’t make it less true.”

she laughs, throwing her head back just the tiniest bit. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’ve been told once or twice.” he runs a hand through his hair. “you have no idea.”

y/n feels loopy, between the alcohol in her veins and the warmth in her stomach from his attention, she thinks she might be in for a little bit of trouble here.

“i’m just kidding though. i noticed you pretty much the second i got on stage.” his eyes are so blue it’s freaking her out. in a good way, though. “knew i had to look for you afterwards.”

y/n raises her eyebrow. “oh, you had a plan?”

“of course i did. no way was i letting you walk out of here without talking to you.”

she knows it’s a line, knows his type. the smooth talking, shit-eating grin that could make any girl fall to their knees. part of her wants to ignore him, just for the sake of it. but a much bigger, much more attracted to him, so badly it’s putting crazy thoughts in her head, part of her is incredibly down for the chase.

y/n turns to look at her friends, who are now talking to the rest of the band. she chuckles, seeing her best friend and the lead singer basically pressed up against each other talking, her looking up at him with what y/n knows are the eyes. her other close friend is talking to who she thinks is the guitarist and a new face, who coincidentally looks exactly the other two.

when she turns back to the boy in front of her, she picks up her drink, looking him dead in the eyes. she’s not entirely doing it on purpose, wrapping her glossed lips around the straw slowly, before putting her glass back down on the bar, but she can tell that it takes a toll on him.

drummer boy blows at a breath, moving his eyes from her lips back up to her eyes. “can i know your name now? or do i have to beg?”

he’s slightly closer to her now. she can smell his cologne in the space between them, and now can see the silver dog tag that hangs from his neck. she notices the silver hoop in his right nostril that she didn’t see before. it makes a chill go down her spine.

“hm,” she basically purrs. “you begging me for something has a nice ring to it.”

the smirk in the corner of his mouth widens. “i’ll beg you for anything you want, sweetheart.”

she decides to stop torturing him. “y/n.” she offers him her hand.

he looks down, bigger one enveloping hers immediately. his hand is warm and slightly rough. it makes her shift again. “chris.”

chris, she thinks. of course his name is chris.

“so who’s in the band with you? cause it’s kind of freaking me out how much you look alike.”

he lets her hand go, not without lingering slightly. “my brother matt,” he looks up and laughs. “who is five seconds away from making out with your friend right now, is the lead. nick’s the photographer and does the behind the scenes shit. jack is just our friend.”

she nods, “triplets.”

“yeah, unfortunately.” his eyes are fond. “i’m the best looking one by far though.”

y/n rolls her eyes, ready to humble him through a lie, when all of sudden there’s a shout behind them.

“she said get lost, you fucking loser.” nick says, standing in front of the friend of y/n’s that isn’t attached to matt.

the presumably drunk asshole sneers at him, “i’m sure she can speak for herself, dickhead.”

“i did speak for myself, dumbass.” her friend says, rolling her eyes. “i’m not interested, not even in the slightest. walk away.”

“you’re not all that anyway, bitch.”

matt speaks next, “watch your fucking mouth, bro.”

chris can tell it’s getting out of hand when the guy keeps taking steps forward, matt’s hand on nick’s arm to stop what feels inevitable. y/n’s friend scoffs. “i was ten seconds ago when you thought, for some odd reason, that you could ever approach me.”

the guy doesn’t seem to like that answer or the various insults the group of them keep giving him, so he shoves past nick and gets right in her face.

y/n takes less than three seconds to throw her drink and shove him backward, causing him to stumble into another drunk asshole, which doesn’t end well.

there’s liquor flying everywhere, fists being thrown and all out chaos in the bar, causing security to come bustling through the crowd. people have started to fight just for the hell of it, and now they’ve got to go.

chris grabs y/n’s hand, tugging her towards the back exit. “we’ve got to go, now.” despite the chaos, he’s grinning, and she kinda wants to kiss him.

her eyes find her best friends, shoving through people recklessly. when she gets to them, they’re laughing incredulously at the chaos they’ve all inadvertently caused.

“i think i’m gonna go with chris,” y/n says over the madness.

“you don’t even know him!” her friend replies, eyebrows sky high.

“yeah,” she says, looking back to chris who is urging her forward. “but i think i want to.”

her other friend grins ear to ear, looking back at his brothers. “go. text us wherever you end up. we’re going with them.”

they shout love you’s and go in opposite directions, her friends with the band and her with chris.

he takes her hand as security gets into the main crowd, pulling her through expertly. once they get to the back door they’re running, fast and hard, feet slapping against the pavement.

she can hear their laughter roaring in her ears, can feel both their pulses in her fingertips where her and chris’ hands connect. it’s crazy, her following him blindly.

she couldn’t even pretend to be bothered by it.

***

“i can’t believe i actually just ran from a bar brawl with you,” y/n says, texting her friends to make sure they ended up okay. they told her that they were at a diner right now with the rest of the band, safe and sound.

chris is also texting, his brothers she assumes, before he slides his phone back into his pocket. “i can’t believe you started the bar brawl.”

his face and tone is teasing. she rolls her eyes, nudging his shoulder as they walk side by side down the city streets. “i did not start it. that drunk dick that couldn’t take no for an answer did.”

chris’ hands are in his pockets as he leads her down the road. she thinks, hopes he knows where he’s going. “i know. it’s just funny watching your face twist up.”

they don’t say anything as they continue their path. they’re in what looks like another bar strip, except it’s pretty much deserted. there’s walls with beautiful graffiti next to them, parking meters decorating the sides of the sidewalk. the street lights are on and bright, and occasionally a car will speed down the one way road like a bat out of hell.

y/n pulls her jacket, which she managed to grab off her bar stool before they escaped, around her tighter. december in new jersey was unforgiving, and the short skirt and fur lined tights she had on weren’t doing enough to protect her from the cold. she’s just glad she opted for vans tonight.

she looks over to the man next to her, hands shoved in his front pockets and hair falling into his eyes. chris’ nose and cheeks are dusted pink from the cold air, and she wants to brush it out of his face. so she does.

she stops him in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing his arm. he looks at her quizzically, breathing soft. she reaches up and rakes a hand through the soft, brown locks, positioning it so she could continue to see his eyes. he lips turn upwards.

“where are we going?” she says, her arm falling back to her side.

he nods his head towards a car parked a little bit away. “my car.”

she cocks her head. “why the hell are you parked this far from where you’re performing?”

“we were here earlier,” chris says, walking ahead. she follows. “after we set up at the Phoenix, we came here to get some drinks. too much time to kill led to a round of drunk pool. we ubered to the show.”

she doesn’t know him very well, but she knows it makes sense. “very professional.”

chris unlocks his car, leaning over and opening the passenger door. he leans his forearm on the roof of the car, grinning. “that’s rock and roll baby.”

she scoffs a laugh. “never say that, ever again.”

he laughs too. “yeah, alright.”

once they’re settled in the car, chris hands her the aux. she looks at him, surprised. “you want me to play music?”

he nods. “it’s a good character tester. show me what you got.”

she thinks there’s something more underneath the words. she takes the challenge. “you’re on.”

chris pulls off into the night just as pyramids starts.

***

something y/n had never understood was magnets. sure, they had a specific and concrete explanation, scientifically proven, but it just never really settled in her brain right. the concept of push and pull and attraction to metal was a mystery to her.

she kind of feels like a a stray paper clip right now, though. as chris glides through the streets of jersey she’s encapsulated with the way the fleeting lights ghost over his face, outlining his jaw. he’s got one hand on the wheel and one on the middle console, which makes her wish he’d reach a little further to the flesh of her thigh.

when he parks in the back of a big building that she knows far too well, she’s mystified. “why the hell are we at my childhood rec center right now?”

chris leans forward, looking out the windshield. he shrugs. “i didn’t even know that’s where we were. i was just driving to be honest.”

y/n notices the pull towards him again. cause what a coincidence right?

she unfastens her seatbelt and turns her body towards him, leaning her back against her door. “so what made you wanna be a drummer?”

the question seems to come out of nowhere, to chris at least, but he welcomes it. he copies her movements, facing her as well. his seat is pulled all the way back. “just always loved music. so has matt. my brothers are my best friends, so getting a chance to create music with them seemed like a life i’d always wanna live.”

she loves that answer. makes her heartbeat a little faster. “big softie.”

chris smiles wide, teeth poking out. “kind of.” he fiddles with the steering wheel cover. y/n has noticed that he’s always moving in some capacity. fingers always twitching or drumming on a surface, hands in his hair, cracking his neck— he can never sit still. “what’s your thing?”

she thinks. “don’t know if i have one.”

he tuts. “everyone has a thing.”

her eyes laser focus on his necklace. she’s searching her brain for the best thing to say, but keeps coming up short. there were things she loved, books, movies, art— but there was nothing that really made her feel like she could do it forever. it made her feel boring in comparison.

“i don’t know, really.”

chris looks at her like he’s trying to decode a riddle. she kind of shrinks under the gaze. “i think you’re holding back.” she rolls her eyes, because she doesn’t know what else to do. “but even if that’s true, you’ve got time. nobody has everything figured out.”

the words are comforting, but a little too heavy for the night. what she’s going to do with her life is so not the conversation she wants to be having with the hot drummer she ran away from a bar fight with.

“thank you so much, dr. chris.” he laughs, shaking his head. y/n has a sudden stroke of recklessness genius. she smiles like a cheshire cat, slow growing and completely mesmerizing to the boy across from her.

“what’s with the evil smile? you’re freaking me out.” except he’s lying. he’s quite literally hanging on to her every word.

“let’s go.” she’s climbing over the middle console now, stopping briefly on his lap before reaching for his door. why she just didn’t get out on her side, she doesn’t know. she does. the inexplicable need to be close to him compels her to do it. stupid fucking magnet theory.

before she can grasp it though, chris’s hands plant themselves firmly on her hips. she looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. he just grins up at her, looking peacefully.

“just give me a minute. this is pretty much the view i was imagining the entire show while looking at you.” y/n feels herself pulse at the sentence. “it’s even better than i could’ve ever pictured it.”

“dirty dog,” she teases, but settles down anyway.

“oh come on,” he replies. his hands are wandering the tiniest bit, brushing the curve of her spine. “you’re telling me all your thoughts of me have been perfectly respectable?”

she scoffs in amusement. “you need to be humbled, like immediately. maybe the fame’s going to your head.” she trails her eyes down his chest where their bodies connect. “and there’s no telling which one.”

chris chuckles. “not my style, sugar.”

“oh?” y/n leans down, head above him and hair acting as a curtain around them. “am i your first groupie?”

the smirk that slides on to his face is sweltering. his fingers are rubbing circles into the skin of her back and she forces herself not to shiver at the feeling.

“is that what’s going on here? i thought we were just hanging out.” there’s a sly smile on his mouth, eyes implying less than pure things. he leans up on his elbows, causing his hands to disappear. she misses the touch as soon as it’s gone. there’s barely an inch apart. “looks like i’m not the only one who had a plan. hm?”

she shoves his shoulder, causing him to lay back flat with a laugh. “you’ve bumped your head on one too many tour buses.”

y/n opens the car door, reaching down and grabbing his hand. chris lets her pull him up. he’s still laughing. “what are we doing?”

“being quiet,” she says, leading them to the back door she’d seen almost every night back in her teenage years. “not a word.” she warns.

she’d left her purse in the car, but it doesn’t really matter. pulling a bobby pin from her hair, she gets to work jamming it into the lock and wiggling it around. she can feel chris’ body heat behind her, and the cold air makes her want to sink into it. she’s a woman on a mission though, so she pushes the thought from her head.

she smirks when the lock clicks, like always, and pulls the door open. “lets go.”

the surprise on chris’ face is evident. he’s cautious, looking all around him. “are you insane? we are not breaking into a community center right now.”

y/n leans on the door with her arms across her chest. “scared?”

“very much, yes.” he looks at her with something incredulous in his eyes. “don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight.”

she rolls her eyes. “i promise you this isn’t the first, tenth or hundredth time i’ve done this.” she moves to stand directly in front of him then. “it’s a jersey teen rite of passage. we’ll be fine.”

he looks unsure, but he’d be kidding himself if he thought he could ever say no to her. the way she’s looking at him, with wide, sparkling eyes and plump, glossy red lips stretched into a smile that makes his heart thud. he’s a goner. already.

“fine.” he says, despite his better judgement. “lead the way, miss criminal.”

she just laughs as she pulls him inside. the sound makes him think that everything could go to shit in a matter of minutes, and it would all be worth it.

***

the sounds of their foot steps echo through the abandoned space. y/n leads chris through the darkness with expertise, helping him dodge strewn about chairs and walls that he nearly smacked into several times.

she’s giggling like a mad woman, making chris’ lips freeze in a permanent smile at the sound. when they get to where she wants to be she stops and tells him to close his eyes.

he hears the sound of a switch or two, and when he opens his eyes he’s met with a giant community sized pool and some bleachers in front of it. there’s a couple overhead lights, some benches lining the sides of the pool. it looks exactly like what you’d picture a rec center pool would look like.

the thing that catches his eyes though is the graffiti that paints the walls around him. vibrant colors and designs that are so intricate he can’t even wrap his head around it. he’s in awe. when y/n comes to stand in front of him, he looks from the wall to her still dumbfounded.

“this is fucking sick.” he travels to see the art up close, running his hands along the pictures. there’s a flurry of random images with a distinct style chris could never figure out the name for, but all his eyes and brain can register is that it’s fucking beautiful. “have these always been here?”

y/n is looking at the wall with nostalgia swirling through her irises. “kind of. there were a bunch of random additions over the years and it just became this big piece. heard the artist got caught a bunch of times but nothing could stop them.”

chris scoffs. “um, yeah, if i was this good at anything artistic i’d draw that shit on everything too.”

she laughs, turning to him with a mischievous look. he raises an eyebrow at her, questioning what the look was for. she doesn’t say anything, just leans down and starts taking off her shoes.

chris watches her with raised interest, heartbeat speeding up when she gets to the hem of her shirt. “i’m confused on the signals i’m getting right now.”

she shrugs, “strip.”

and with that she pulls of her top, exposing her deep red bra. chris’ eyes trace the valley of her chest and even though he feels like a dick, he can’t help it. he already thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d seen clothed, so her stripping in front of him wasn’t doing him or the pants he was wearing any favors. not to mention that moment in the car was constantly burning through his brain, making him hear. for her touch.

her skirt is off in the next second, and she’s looking at chris like he’s missing an opportunity. “are you gonna stand there and creep on me or are you gonna take your clothes off?”

he’s snapped out of the trance he was in and sends her a sheepish grin. “i’m still kinda lost on what we’re doing right now.”

y/n walks to him slowly, hair fanning out around her shoulders. chris find his hands itching to bury themselves in it, pulling, grasping or even just playing with it softly. when she’s right in front of him, he looks down at her. the sight nearly knocks him off his feet. she’s peering up at him through her eyelashes, eyes dark and sensual, mouth quirked up in a sinful smile. she brings her hands to the waistband of his cargo pants, toying with the button.

chris is hot all over. he can’t do anything but keep his eyes on her hands, following their every move. she pops the button with ease, “do you want me to do all the work or..?”

chris’ voice is shaky as he blows out a breath. “i mean kind of, yeah.”

“i think you’ve got it under control,” she says, voice like honey. “can you finish for me?”

it should be embarrassing how fast chris steps out of his shoes and shows his pants down to his ankles. he’s hoping his dick isn’t standing straight up because he’d probably try to drown himself.

when he’s down to his boxers, y/n trails a nail up his chest and puts her lips to his ear. “good boy.” he shudders, then questions himself cause what the fuck? but then he mentally shrugs because he knows that anything that fell out of her mouth would turn him on. “i really hope you can swim.”

the words register a second too late, because chris is suddenly submerged in water before he can even think to say anything. he hears y/n’s cackle on the way down, and can feel the break of water as she jumps in after him.

he pushes to the surface with a glare, splashing her as soon as she emerges. “you’re evil,” he says, huffing. “you distracted me.”

she splashes him back with a wide, genuine smile. “you’re a guy. distracting a child would be harder.”

chris rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to lunge at her through the water. she squeals, manically laughing as he chases her around. they spend the next however long slashing each other and trying to dunk each other under water without getting too close to be grabbed.

y/n doesn’t know the last time she felt this good around a guy. the last time she was so allowing to have someone in her space. it makes her stomach turn in a delicious, tantalizing whirl of want.

chris catches her off guard finally, wrapping his arm around her waist as she tries to get away. he pulls her to him and she turns, taking it upon herself to get as close as possible. they’re treading water, looking at each other in the eye.

it feels like they’re having a conversation without saying the words, and y/n is terrified chris can hear her heart beating in the silence. he reaches up, tucking a wet strand behind her ear. the moment is oddly tender. “you’re beautiful.”

he says it so concretely that it makes her stomach (among other places) clench. like there was no room for debate. it’s probably the shyest she’s been all night when she looks down at the distorted sight of their legs underwater.

like a mind reader, chris nudges her burning cheek, making her look up. he’s close as he can be but still giving her space. he searches her eyes for a moment, before he starts to say something. “i-“

y/n is looking at him, waiting for him to finish but ultimately he doesn’t. “fuck it.” is the only thing he says before slotting his lips perfectly over hers.

it’s instantaneous, the way her body suctions itself to his. his right hand is gripping the base of her throat hotly, his other hand in her hip. her hands are in his hair and she’s moved to wrap her legs around his waist.

they’re pulling at each other like they’ve been apart for years. it’s desperate and needy, the way chris trails his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking on any part of skin he can see. the way she tugs roughly at his hair to pull him back up to her lips, like she can’t stand to be away from them for a second.

it’s the hottest thing either of them have literally ever experienced and she strongly believes that she’s about to fuck this man right here, right now.

only, they can’t, because there’s a sudden slam of a door and a jingle of keys. “hey! you can’t be in here!”

they pull apart instantly, and y/n’s eyes widen. “oh shit, we gotta go.”

“what the fuck—“ chris looks like a deer caught in headlights, but y/n has been through this way too many times to let them be caught.

she’s pulling chris’ arm with an iron grip to the side of the wall their clothes are at. “let’s fucking go, chris.”

it takes all of two seconds for him to move with her instead of against her. they pull themselves up the wall as the security guard moves from the open door with haste. y/n can’t help but laugh as chris fumbles around with his shit, almost slipping and falling to the ground.

“is that you, y/n?” the guard says, and she can feel chris’ confusion. she doesn’t stop though, continuing her escape with chris in row. “damn kids.”

“you’re fucking insane,” chris says through his own laugh because well, he can’t fucking believe this night. can’t believe this girl.

“little bit!” she calls over her shoulder as the guard chases them around the border of the pool. they run to the door in the other direction, bursting through to the arctic air.

“oh my fucking god my balls are shriveling up i can feel it.” chris says as they run barefoot, soaking wet and freezing cold.

they make it across the parking lot, all the way to chris’s car by the time the guard is at the back door, throwing their clothes and themselves in haphazardly.

chris shakes as he blasts the heat and slams on the gas. he’s out of the space in record speed, driving on to the main road a little fast until they’re a safe ways away. he looks over at her, and she’s already looking him. they burst out in the most insane, bizarre bout of laughter.

they look ridiculous. wet hair and in their underwear, shaking like falling leaves. it’s comical and unbelievable and they would never want to be anywhere else.

“god i was kidding when i called you a criminal but you really fucking are,” he shakes his head. “he knew your name and everything.”

“hey!” she says, holding her hands up. “there’s not much to do around here. sneaking into here was like a weekly routine when i was in high school.”

“my little jailbird. what the hell am i gonna do with you?” there’s a glint to his eyes and she shivers again, not from the cold.

she ignores the feeling and points up ahead to a small alley. “you’re gonna pull in there so we can put our fucking clothes on. i’m freezing.”

“completely your fault, by the way.”

“blah, blah, blah.” she looks at him while he focuses on the road. the smile that spreads on her lips makes her skin heat. “pull over.”

and he does.

***

it’s a little while later and chris and y/n sit in his backseat, joint being passed between them, now fully clothed.

y/n lays with her back pressed up against the back left door, legs outstretched and wide with chris laying between them. the weight of his ribs on her hips is heavenly, and all she’s been thinking about for the last ten minutes is how it’s not close enough.

her hand is resting at the top of his head, lazily twisting a strand of hair around her finger. chris hums every so often, body slouching down more into her body heat.

“hey,” he says. “tell me something true.”

she takes a long hit, holding the smoke in before exhaling. “i’m high as bones right now.”

they share a giggle, before chris swipes the joint from her fingers. “i said true, not obvious.”

she shrugs, watching the smoke around them swirl. “it’s both, actually.”

he shakes his head, looking up at her from his place on top of her. “seriously.”

she thinks for a minute. there’s one thing she can think of, but for some reason it feels embarrassing. the way chris is looking at her though, completely enthralled with low eyes makes her not care. “that was my graffiti at the pool.”

chris flounders for a second, mouth dropping open in slow motion. he moves slowly, but it feels abrupt. he spins his body so his back is now facing the other door. she misses his body weight already.

“no fucking way?” his eyes are as wide as they could possibly be, considering how intoxicated they both are.

y/n just shrugs, pulling the last hit and leaning forward to place the filter in an old pepsi can in the front seat. “not a big deal.”

chris scoffs incredulously. “not a big deal? not a big deal?” he shakes his head, his mop of hair bouncing. “you lied to me.”

“about what, exactly?”

“i asked you what your thing was. you told me you didn’t have one.” he gives her a pointed look. “that’s a pretty big thing to have.”

“i haven’t done any art in years,” she argues. “so not really my “thing” anymore.”

he won’t let it go and she has no idea why. a couple random pieces she did out of teenage rebellion were so far back in her brain that it wasn’t even a factor. it’s been years since she even drew anything.

“well get back to it,” he says. “cause that’s not the type of thing you just stop doing. you’re fucking incredible, y/n.”

the authenticity in the words makes her shift uncomfortably. she doesn’t know how to take it and she damn sure doesn’t know what to make of him staring at her like she was pablo picasso reincarnated. it was kind of freaking her out.

“yeah, yeah.” she says, because it’s all she can.

“i’m serious. you’re so talented.” he moves his face directly in front of hers. his eyes trace the expanse of her face so delicately, it makes her want to been seen by him always. “so fucking perfect.” he whispers.

the words fill her with a softness she doesn’t think she’s ever felt. he really means it. she can tell by how honest his eyes are and how tightly he’s gripping on to the spot right above her knee. she doesn’t know how to thank him, so she connects their lips as a sign. he takes it immediately. they stay like that for a couple moments, learning the ins and outs of each others mouths, languidly kissing.

then, she’s back to being on top of him, but with a fire igniting in the pit of her stomach. she’s grinding her hips down into him, chasing those pretty noises he makes at the back of his throat. she’s breathing heavily, mewls falling from her lips as he sucks a particularly deep bruise into her neck.

“your pace,” he says through a groan. although it almost physically pains him, he slows her hips. she whines, chasing the friction like a woman on a mission. “whatever you want.”

“what do you want?” like a brat, she removes his hands, rolling her hips sinfully slow. chris almost chokes on his own spit.

“just want you.”

it makes her dizzy, the desperation in his voice. she needs him now. “well you have me,” for the second time tonight, she pops open the button of his pants. she places a searing kiss on his lips, making him chase her own when she parts. “now make it count.”

and he does. so much so that y/n has to remind herself several times during it that this man, this moment— is just for tonight. no matter how much she wants differently to be true.

***

“yeah,” y/n says, disoriented and out of breath. “yeah we’re coming.”

chris snorts from his place in the drivers seat. he puts on his shirt, taking a second to run his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.

“already did. several times.”

y/n punches him in the arm, trying to listen to her best friend rattle the location they ended up at. she hums in reply, not really listening as she watches chris watch her, his hand wandering to the flesh of her thighs.

when he gets a little too close to her underwear she clamps her legs shut, sending him a look. he only smirks in reply.

she pulls the phone away slightly. “you’re insatiable.”

he shrugs. “when it comes to you? yeah.”

y/n hears her best friend gasp. “oh my god. you just got finished fucking!”

she can feel the heat rise to her face. “i’m hanging up now.”

“oh my god, bitch!” y/n heard shuffling, no doubt grabbing the attention of her other friend. “y/n fucked chris.”

she can hear a protesting bleh! that sounds like nick over the phone, before squeals fill her ears. she already knows her friends are very much drunk. “goodbye.”

when she hangs up, she turns and slaps chris on the shoulder. he flinches, but he’s laughing nonetheless. “you idiot.”

“what? like you weren’t gonna tell them?”

“yeah, tomorrow.” she emphasizes. “not tonight when they’re surrounded by your drunk brothers in the middle of a bar!”

“trust me,” he says, toothy grin shining. “nick and matt have heard worse.”

y/n rolls her eyes, “slut.”

chris doesn’t do anything but send her a dirty smirk, turning up the music and backing out of the parking lot they were in, weaving through the streets like he’s lived here all his life.

y/n can feel a dreadful weight settle in her gut, thinking that the night was approaching its end. through the silence she studies chris, wondering what he’s thinking. if he felt the connection between them as much she did. if he was just as unwilling to let it go. when they pull up outside the bar, she can see his brothers and her friends standing and laughing loudly outside, waiting for them. she wants to speak, but she doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. luckily for her, chris has never been one to stay silent for long.

“so.” he says, looking at her with what she thinks is nervousness. “am i gonna have to beg for your number? cause i have no shame. and i will.”

y/n lets out the breath she’d been holding. he felt it too. of course he did.

she outstretches her hand to which he places his phone into. she types in her contact, but before she presses save, she motions him close to her. “come here.”

she snaps the picture of them, cheeks pressed together sweetly and makes it her picture, sending it to herself as well. when she’s finished, chris grips her face in his hand and turns her to him, placing one last kiss to her lips.

it’s slow and intimate, no trace of tongue or the desperate need from before. it feels like a promise or a nudge towards the future. like this couldn’t possibly be the last one.

“text me. or call me. whatever. i’ll answer for you anytime.” he whispers into her mouth. she snaps a mental picture of the moment.

“i will.” she means it.

she gets out the car then, alerting her eccentric friends of her arrival. she gives nick and matt a brief hug as they pass her on the way to chris’ car, thanking them for keeping her friends safe.

she watches them all the way to the car, waving at chris once more as they pull away. she kind of feels like a piece of herself went with him.

“you have to tell us everything.” her best friend says, but y/n is somewhere far away.

“yeah, i will. tomorrow. for now, let’s get you drunk fucks to bed.”

he’s the only thing she can think about the whole way home.

***

eight months later

there’s a distinct difference in atmosphere between this night and then last is all y/n’s thinking as she pushes through the crowd of screaming girls to the back of the venue.

before, it was a lowkey bar with more drunk customers than excited fans. now, there’s people with band tees and signs, nearly passing out as she watches the band throw guitar picks and drumsticks into the crowd. her leather pants are sticking to her tightly, sweat collecting at the small of her back.

she’d gotten matt’s number from her best friend, texted him and told him that she’d be here tonight. chris had no idea, and while she was excited beyond belief to see him, there was a part of her that was riddled with insecurity that he wouldn’t share the same feelings.

they’d texted consistently for a couple months after that night. the odd phone call every few weeks to catch up. it was never awkward, despite how much time had passed. she missed him all the time when he wasn’t around, so every time they talked it felt so comforting she yearned to be in his presence again.

but then they got busy, and consistent texts turned into a random conversation here and there and a call once in a blue moon. the eventually, it turned to nothing at all. she still thought about him all the time, but she her fear held her back from ever reaching out. she assumed he felt the same. well that, and the fact that the guys’ band had found massive success seemingly overnight. she was happy for him, she just hoped there was still room in his memory and his life for her.

y/n paces around the band’s small dressing room while she waits. the anxiety is eating her alive, building a lump in her throat she’s scared won’t ever go away. she’s half a second away from running out of there and never looking back when the door opens.

and in walks chris, shirt off and slung over his shoulder. his hair is drenched with sweat, dark, baggy jeans low on his waist. the emotion that floods her makes her hands shake, so she wrings her hands together to make it stop. doesn’t work one bit.

chris hasn’t seen her yet, but she sees nick and matt in the entry way at the door, smiling and flashing her a thumbs up before they shut the door loudly. chris looks back the door in confusion.

“where the hell—“

“i’ve been stuck in this room for twenty minutes and you still haven’t noticed i’m here. remind me to never try to surprise you ever again.”

chris’ entire body stills. he looks up slowly, hair on his arms standing at full height. when he sees her, his eyes widen three times their normal size. his mouth opens and closes helplessly, so much so y/n can only laugh at him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

chris doesn’t move from his spot. “i feel like i’m looking at one.”

the eye contact they make is sweltering. all of sudden, the thoughts that had been plaguing her for so long fall away. chris walks to her slowly, like he’s afraid she’s gonna disappear if he moves too fast.

“are you really here right now?” he says, voice full of awe. “i feel like i’m going insane right now.”

she chuckles under her breath. “yes, chris. i’m really here right now.”

the sun opens up in that very room in that moment as soon as chris realizes what’s happening, cause he smiles so wide it looks like it might hurt. he closes the space between and hugs her, lifting her body off the ground.

“chris—“

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he questions, pulling back with his hands on her waist. “not that i’m not glad, i’m just fucking flabbergasted by it.”

y/n’s smile matches his. wide and unrelenting. “well,” she says, pulling a folded up flier out of her bag. she hands it to him, motioning for him to open it. “for this.”

chris’ eyes light up as he scans the paper. he looks at her with so much pride it almost knocks her off her feet. “you have an art show.”

“i do.” she nudges his shoulder. “someone told me once that it was my thing.”

chris wants to kiss her. so badly. he hadn’t seen her in months, hadn’t even spoken to her, but he feels that same thrum of electricity in his veins that he did that night. she looks even more beautiful than before. he can’t take it.

“so that’s why you’re in los angeles?” y/n knows the question is bait. she knows and she wants to keep up the calm and collected ruse really bad, except she thinks she might explode if she doesn’t feel her lips in his very soon.

“yeah,” chris’ shoulders shrug the tiniest bit. “that and this band i like was playing tonight. don’t tell anyone, but i kinda have a thing for the drummer.”

they’re moving closer to each other without even realizing it. chris’ hands have righted their grip on her and she’s about an inch from his face.

he smirks. “mm, good choice. i’ve heard he’s the hottest one.”

“biggest ego too.”

they don’t even have to question it. don’t even have to say the words. chris pulls her to him and closes the gap, his lips finding hers after so long. way too long.

y/n can feel how much he missed her in the way he’s holding her so tightly. she hopes she’s pouring the same feelings into this. kissing chris was like coming home after a hard day to your favorite spot on the couch. she never realized just how much she needed it, never knew how much she missed it until she had it again.

“i missed you.” he says, barely pulling away to say it.

“me too.” she says, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

with one final peck to her lips, chris hesitantly pulls himself away from her. “let me pack my shit and then we can get out of here. it’s my turn to show you around.”

y/n watches him move through the room in haste, dropping shit and bumping into chairs out of pure excitement. her heart swells twice in size, eyes sparkling at the thought of the night to come. she knows this time is different. there was no way either of them was going to let go for a second time.

chris sends her a blinding smile while he packs his backpack and she knows, just knows this man is going to be someone special to her. with the way her heart pounds just by looking at him, he already is.

thank god for boys in bands.

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[corvidae-00]

Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747

The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.

You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.

Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain

"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow

"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better

Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.

"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose

"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.

"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head

"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.

you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language

"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum

Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!

#x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joostice #joost x reader

[miley1442111]

hi! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where it's her birthday and he promised her he would be there for the party even if there was a case and he calls her right as the party starts and she's so excited and asks him if he's on his way but he says no and he's sorry but there's an important case and he can't make it and she is absolutely CRUSHED but tells him it's ok and she has to go. She can't really focus or be happy during her party and when it's over she's crying in their bed and then her best friend calls Spencer and yells at him bc reader thinks he will always love his job more than her and that the BAU is his priority and he just feels so awful. He comes home early and apologizes and gives her his gifts he got for her and pampers her and makes her feel so loved.

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birthday blues (part one)- s.reid

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a/n: i absolutely adore this idea! thank you so much for requesting and sorry that we didn't get to the happy ending yet... but we will eventually!

summary: spencer makes a choice that leaves you alone on an important day and causes something in your relationship breaks.

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

warnings: birthday blues, spencer's an ass, your best friend calls spencer a lot of names and curse words, talks of breaking up, no happy ending :(

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Your phone rang and you knew what it was. There you were surrounded by your friends in your apartment, getting ready for your birthday party, and your stupid boyfriend had to ruin it all. 

You picked up. “Hey Spencer,” you sighed, but attempted to mask it with a smile. 

You could hear the deep inhale on his end and it solidified what you already knew. “You can’t come, right?” You said it for him. 

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “It’s just-“

“Another case. I get it Spencer, it’s fine,” you lied. 

The line was quiet for a moment. 

“Happy birthday,” he said sheepishly. “I love you.”

You scoffed. For a profiler, he wasn’t exactly good at noticing things. Like the subtle shake in your voice, or the small hiccups of tears you tried (and failed) to suppress when you hung up the phone without saying you loved him. 

You turned to your best friend Rebecca, a sad look on your face. “He’s not coming.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s such a fucking asshole. When is he ever going to just show up for you? It’s your birthday for god’s sake. He missed when you got promoted, he missed your gallery opening, he missed your anniversary and he’s missing your birthday? Why are you even with him?” 

You felt the pressure build up in your throat and she pulled you into your bathroom and held you as you sobbed. She sent everyone home, saying you were sick and she called the restaurant and cancelled the reservation. You got out of the dress Spencer had bought you, a beautiful wine colour that complimented you in all the right places. You sat in your bed and cried for hours as Rebecca comforted you with old Disney movies you two watched as kids and your favourite ice cream and some salty popcorn. 

“I just feel like he values his job over me… like I don’t even make top 4 in his list of priorities,” you sighed, your eyes glued to ‘Tangled’ as it played. “Like… look at him! He’s so in love with her!” You pointed at the screen and Rebecca had to surprise a laugh over you being jealous of Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, two fictional characters. “Don’t laugh at me!” You scoffed at her, shoving her in the arm as she started giggling.

“I’m not!” She said through laughter. She alighted made you laugh, and you two were stuck like that for a few minutes, laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Ok! Ok! Look, to be serious, you deserve so much better than Spencer. You need someone who cares about you more than his job, someone who can actually be here when you need him.”

You nodded along, the weight of her words heavy on your mind.

-------------------------

When you finally cried yourself to sleep Rebecca took your phone from your bedside table and dialled his number. 

“Hey love, are you alright?-“ he started but she cut him off.

“I’m so glad I’m finally meeting you, even if it’s just over the phone because now I know what a fucking asshole sounds like. You idiotic bitch. Stop calling Y/n and let her be with someone who cares enough to be there for important things in her life. Who cares enough to meet her friends. Who cares about her in the slightest!” She argued over the line. “She spent her entire birthday night in her bed crying over you, when she should’ve been out with her family and friends. You’re such a dick!” She seethed. “So yeah, stop calling this number.”

The line went dead and Spencer felt his heart drop. You’d spent your special night crying over him. 

He was an asshole. 

-------------------------

He’d booked the first flight out of Denver and told Hotch it was important, he understood and allowed him to go. 

He showed up outside your apartment bright and early, 5am in the morning. Rebecca opened the door and promptly shut it in his face, something he knew he deserved but it still hurt nonetheless. 

“Please can I just talk to her?” He begged from his side of the door. 

“She’s asleep,” she scoffed. “Why are you here?”

“I need to see her,” he pleaded, and Rebecca cracked the door. “Please Rebecca.”

“Give me a good reason,” she said as you walked out of the bedroom.

“Who’s at the door?” you yawned and Rebecca sighed as Spencer started begging you to open the door. 

“Is that you baby? C-can you open the door? I’m so sorry baby I didn’t mean to-”

“Rebecca open the door.”

She sighed but obliged and stepped out as Spencer stepped in. Immediately, you were in his arms as he kissed you softly, apologies rolling off his tongue in between kisses. As much as you enjoyed him being in your arms, it still felt superficial and wrong. His face fell when you pushed him off of you. His eyes followed your figure as you walked to the kitchen and put on the white kettle that sat beside the coffee machine he’d gotten you last year. 

“What are you doing here?” you sniffled, posture and body language guarded as you waited for the water to boil. 

“It’s your birthday,” he shrugged with a sad smile. “I wanted to be with you.”

“You were perfectly happy leaving me alone 11 hours ago. What changed?” 

“I realised I messed up, and some choice words from Rebecca helped me along,” he sighed. How was he supposed to fix this? 

Guilt started to settle in your stomach. Were you really right to be upset right now? Even since you were a child you were told to ‘be grateful’. You were told to ‘be grateful’ when you stopped getting presents when you were 11, when you stopped getting cards when you were 14, when you watched your dad shower his other children from his new marriage with gifts while he didn’t even notice you in his house. You should be grateful that Spencer was even wishing you a happy birthday earlier, how could you be so ungrateful?

“You should be on the case, I’ll order you a taxi back to the airport and I’ll pay you back for the ticket-” you rushed out, reaching for your phone but Spencer’s hand stopped you.

“I want to be here,” he pleaded. “Please don’t make me go away.”

You looked up at him through teary eyes and his hand came up to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away. 

“I’m so sorry I ever thought it was ok to miss your birthday. You are the single most important thing in my life and I’m sorry that I’m not here as much as I’d like to be,” he smiled softly, but you could tell he was serious. You allowed yourself to be lost in the fantasy for a moment, being the most important thing in Spencer’s life. 

But, as always, reality sunk in and it left a sour taste in your mouth, leading to another change in body language which Spencer picked up on immediately. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Spencer, your job always takes priority over us- over me. Which is fine. I know my place. Just please don’t make promises you can’t keep from now on, okay? My parents were dying to meet you, and now I had to cancel the entire dinner. I just… I know you can’t be here all the time, but I do expect you to show up for things like this. I don’t care when you miss anniversaries or my promotions-”

Spencer’s heart dropped. “Y-you got promoted… and you never told me?” 

“You were in New York,” you shrugged. “On a case with no end in sight. Why should I make your life harder?”

“You’d never make my life harder. You make my life worth it, worth all the shit I do. I want you to tell me everything baby, always-”

“Spencer, it’s okay to say that you’re inconvenienced by our relationship,” you said in a watery chuckle. “I understand, and I’d get it if you’re too busy for this.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. Were you really suggesting breaking-up? 

“I think we should talk another time Spencer, I’ll drive you to your apartment,” you sighed, grabbing your keys. Spencer was much too exhausted and in shock to put up a fight, so he followed you to your car. 

-------------------------

The drive was silent, but full of an awkward silence. Silences with Spencer had never been awkward, always pleasant, or comforting. Never awkward. 

When you dropped him off outside his apartment, he leaned over to kiss you, but you dodged him with a hug. You felt as a small, internal sob racked his body but tried to convince yourself that it was just a hiccup. 

What were you going to do?

-------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #bau team #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

[lydiimae]

Guardian Angel

Pairing:

MDI 18+

Warnings: Opium powder use, mentions of drinking, high Benedict, Benedict being an insecure cutie pie, fluffy fluff hehe

WordCount: 2.2k

A.N: Hello my loves! I'm sorry for my lack of posting, I've been sick and I've finally started work. I am still trying to find a schedule where I can post and have time for other things. For now, have some lovely Benny fluff while we all wait for part two of Season 3 to come out. I love you! <3 P.S. Thank you for 200 followers OMG I love you all so much.

Marrying Benedict Bridgerton was the easiest decision you have ever had to make. The two of you grew up alongside each other, the rumors of a proposal coming when you debuted, and the actual proposal occurring only two months into the season. It was an easy choice, a choice you were happy you made. He made you feel alive. He filled a part of your soul you did not know was missing before you met him. Even in the hardest times of your marriage.

Benedict, like many other men, has insecurities. He keeps them hidden well behind an air of confidence, but you know better. He never was jealous of Anthony, but rather scared that he would always be looked at as the lesser son. The spare. He just did not understand what you saw in him. He saw himself as a man without purpose, a man who could not provide the life you wanted. He believed you when you said that was not true, but there was always a little voice in the back of his mind that made him doubt himself.

You knew this well. He was less talented at hiding his feelings when he was a child and had shared many of them in your many late nights on the hills of Aubrey Hall. Though now, these insecurities only rear their ugly heads when Benedict has had a few too many to drink. Or, as is the case tonight, too much of the strange tea Colin buys him.

You get out of the carriage with your maid and footman, John, after he had come to get you claiming that Benedict had had far too much tea. A result of drunken carelessness by his younger brother. You rush up the front steps and into your townhouse, taking off your cloak before bouncing up the stairs toward his studio. You sigh as you walk in to find your bohemian husband on the floor of the studio with a canvas in front of him, smearing paint on it with his fingers without a care in the world. It would be an adorable sight if you were not worried out of your mind.

You walk to him and sit down next to him, watching as his glassy eyes sweep over the floor before meeting your own. "Ah! My love!" He exclaims, his demeanor immediately brightening as he drapes his paint-stained arms around your middle, his cheek resting against your shoulder. You hum, not bothering with the wet paint that stains the dark blue fabric of your gown as you wrap your arms around him. "I have been seeing visions, darling." He mumbles into your skin as you run your fingers through his curls.

"Have you now?" You murmur as you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips turn up into a loopy smile. The most adorable sight you have seen in a while. "Mm. Colorful visions. I had to paint them as quick as I could, had to feel the smoothness of my oils on the canvas." He says, pulling back to look at you. You grin when his eyes focus on yours, one of his paint-covered hands coming to rest on your cheeks leaving a beautiful mess of blues and purples in its wake.

He studies your face for a moment longer before crawling, quite clumsily, over to a clear canvas. "Benedict?" You call softly, moving to sit next to him as you watch a beautiful image come to life on the canvas. It wasn't anything, but at the same time, there was something so divine about how he is painting.

After about an hour he stops, looking up at you with that darling crooked smile. "Look, Y/n. It is you. How I see you." He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile and look down at the mess of colors for a moment, believing that this canvas full of swirls might truly be how your husband looks at you in this state. "It is stunning, my love." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his brow before returning your attention to the painting. "Shall I explain it to you?" He slurs, his attention solely on you.

You hum and nod, returning your attention back to him. He smiles giddily, laying back and pulling you on top of him. "It is as if... I tried to capture a dream." He slurs, pressing his lips to your nose. "A whisper of our love, tangled in colors and chaos. This mess of lines and splashes, it is you and me, dancing through the storms and the sunbeams. It is...it is us." He stumbles, weaving paint-streaked fingers through your hair. Even in his most inebriated moments, he never ceases to take your breath away.

With a wavering smile and glassy eyes, he gestures to the canvas, his voice thick with emotion, "You see, my love, it is as if you are my guardian angel. This painting...it is not just colors. It is you. You are in every swirl, every splash...." He grins, watching your eyes shimmer with tears. "You are the light in the chaos, guiding me, saving me from myself. Each stroke is like your touch, soft but powerful, keeping me safe, lifting me higher. It is a tribute to you, my protector, my guiding star. My love, my guardian angel." He mumbles, and you break.

Tears begin rolling down your cheeks and you bury your face into his neck, making him laugh, his hands smearing paint up and down the back of your gown as he tries to comfort you. "You need not be saved from yourself, Benedict." You whisper after a moment, pulling back and wiping your eyes. "My God, if only you could see yourself as beautifully as I see you." You whisper, pulling him up into a sitting position. "Y/n... I have only ever needed saving from myself." He slurs, though even through his inebriation you can sense the deep sadness that lingers somewhere deep within his soul.

"You are the most remarkable man I have ever known, and I am utterly captivated by every part of you—your brilliance, your kindness, your passion. To me, you are perfect, even in your moments of doubt and struggle." You whisper, cupping his cheeks. "You are my world, and I am here to stand by you through every storm." You vow, brushing away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks with your thumbs.

"My Y/n." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he sniffles. "My Benedict." You return, sitting on his lap as his arms encircle your waist. You shift his head into the crook of your neck and allow him to cry for a moment, rocking him side to side as he does. He rarely ever shows this kind of emotion. In a way it is comforting, to know that the man you married still feels just as intensely as he did when you were first wed. You press a kiss to his head and he nuzzles your neck.

You sit with him on the floor of his studio for about an hour, and when he finally calms down you help him to the master bedroom. He falls back on the bed without even a sound of protest, moving his arms so you can help him undress. You grin and bend down, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you unbutton his shirt. Once it is off, you move onto his trousers. Then, when he is completely bare, you tuck his already sleeping form into bed.

You walk into the closet, laying his paint-stained clothes out on the chair for the maids to collect in the morning before changing into a nightgown yourself. Once you are ready for bed, you crawl in next to your husband, combing your fingers through his hair and watching as he smiles in his sleep. You wish that he will remember every word of what you said in the morning, but the logical part of you knows that he will not. Even so, you shall keep saying the things you did tonight until he believes them. You close your eyes, falling into a slumber right next to him, your fingers still curled into his hair.

He wakes far before you do at the crack of dawn, a usual occurrence when he has overindulged. He groans, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead. He cannot remember getting into bed or the events that transpired before he did, though he remembers bits and pieces. The image of the deep blue gown you came home wearing, the way your hair fell around your shoulders when he ran his hands through it, the sparkle of tears in your eyes...

He sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, his eyes immediately drifting over to your sleeping figure. He grins at the image before him. You look like an angel, sleeping on your stomach with your hair sprawled against your back and your lips parted ever so slightly. His grin only widens when you let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your eyebrows furrowing. He hums as he bends down, kissing down the notches of your spine.

You wake at the tingly feeling it sends through your body, grinning at the warmth that blooms in your chest. "Good morning." He murmurs from above you, brushing your hair out of your face just as you open your eyes. "Good morning." You whisper back, your hand coming up to rest over his. He looks heavenly, the morning light from the windows behind him making him look like a God. "You are positively beautiful in the morning, Ben." You hum as you stretch out, and he laughs. "No more beautiful than you, my heart." He returns, taking you into his arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.

You smile as he sits you in his lap, your arms settling loosely around his neck. "Do you remember anything about last night?" You murmur and he shakes his head, stroking your hair. "Just bits and pieces, I suppose." He hums, yawning as you press a kiss to his forehead. "You made a beautiful painting and then made me cry with your explanation." You smile and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "I am happy to know that my poetic tendencies do not fade when I am intoxicated." He grins and you giggle. "If anything they only grow stronger." You return, closing your eyes as the two of you lean on each other.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you decide to bring up the second part of last night. "You also expressed some insecurities, Ben. Like you always do." You whisper as you open your eyes. His eyes meet yours and he sighs, pulling back to rest his chin upon your head. "You need not worry about me, my love" He murmurs and you shake your head, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I do need to worry about you, Benedict. You are my husband. The man I am so hopelessly enamored with, the man I adore even when he is mumbling gibberish on the floor of his studio." You whisper.

He averts his gaze to your lap, playing with your fingers. "I said something foolish when I was intoxicated, Y/n. It is truly not worrisome. I do it often." He mumbles. "You said you needed saving from yourself, that is incredibly worrisome." You whisper and he sighs, looking up at you. "What if I am not enough?" He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. "Whatever do you mean?" You breathe and he shrugs. "Just that. What if I am not enough, for you? What if you wake up one day and realize that I am a man with no purpose who creates silly paintings in his studio all day?" He asks.

"Benedict. You mustn't say that." You whisper, getting teary. When he begins to speak, you shake your head bringing him closer. "When I look at you, I see a man of incredible talent, passion, and depth. Your paintings are not silly; they are a reflection of your soul, a testament to your creativity and the beauty you see in the world. Each brushstroke is a piece of your heart, and I am in awe of the masterpieces you create. Every single one." You whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He gives you a wobbly smile as he tries not to cry.

"But beyond your art, it is you—your kindness, your compassion, your strength, and your gentle spirit—that I cherish most. You give my life meaning and fill my days with joy and love. Your presence is a gift, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we share. I adore you more than any star in the sky. My love, you mustn't doubt that my love for you will never ebb." You continue and he smiles through tears as you pepper his face with kisses. You stay like that for a while, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you let him cry.

"It seems I married a woman who is just as poetic as I." He whispers after a long while, making you burst out in laughter. He pulls back with a crooked grin, peppering your face with kisses now. "My love, my light...." He whispers.

"How I adore you, my guardian angel." He murmurs.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fluff #fanfiction #imagine #benedict being a cutie pie #fluff #x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton/reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #benedict bridgerton/you #bridgerton x you

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”

#erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #erin writes spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x pregnant!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[i-yap]

Literally loving ur writing so far Bestie 🥺💙would I be able to req how the batboy would react to a fwb/situationship vibe with reader? Like they have feelings but reader is scared of commitment

Thank youuu! Im gonna be really honest, I don't think a lot of the batboys would be okay with a situationship sort of deal.. and I don't write romantic damian( at least not yet) .

Batboys x reader- Situationship headcanons

Dick grayson-

I can see a teammate or someone he works close with as a detective turns into a night of passion and now both of them cant go back to normal situation .

He says he is okay with it, and prolly keeps up that act for 4-5 months?

I think you would end the situationship. Dick is a really sought-after guy and one night he Is just upset with you about something. So when another girl flirts with him rather than his usual " I'm sorry there's someone else I'm into" line he flirts back. You see red

you either walk away angry/upset or pull him away. He follows you to an alley or a secluded area of the party.

"why are you even upset, you are the one who doesn't want us to be official?" "well that's not because I don't want you, that's because I'm scared of intimacy"

He would be really understanding once you explain your issues and fear of commitment. You guys come up with a better set of guidelines for your arrangement and he sticks to it.

if you want an open relationship, he is down. if you want to be exclusive but not yet in a relationship relationship he would be okay.

But dick does want to get married someday and have kids. So this arrangement wont last for long. he will try his hardest to help you overcome that fear of commitment but if you cant then its gonna end someday. And he makes that clear to you from the start. all cards are on the table always and communication is key and he makes sure no one gets hurt( or at least tries avoiding it as much as he can)

Jason todd

wont do it

maybe a bestfriend turned situationship scenario

you are his sanctuary , his home a safe place to come back to. and after everything he has been through he struggles with so many insecurities and he deserves a domestic life.

the moment he sees you with another guy, even if it just flirting, he is out the door. He already believes no one loves him and now you don't even want to commit to him? is he not enough?

he gets that you have issues and no one understands issues better than him. But he is in so much pain already that its best for the both of you to not get together at all.

even the fact that you from the very start didn't want to commit makes him get all in his head and even if you get ready to commit later on , he wont be able to forget that fact and will keep thinking you'll leave him or he isn't the one

he also reads a lot of classic literature and romance in books is what he wants. the concept of a situationship doesn't make sense to him and he just needs some good old domestic loving.

Tim drake

best at it

you guys are young, he is so busy. he is totally cool with a teenage dirtbagy relationship

lets meet under the bridge , get high and makeout type of shit,

Partners in crime / bestfriends that hookup

he loves it, its perfect for him

there are no expectations no responsibilities, you guys are just what the other needs . no stupid anniversaries and big fancy dinners

tim gives very "eat the rich" vibes so this situationship is another way for him to be a little rebellious .

Very very teenage dirtbag- going to grocery shops at 2am and sitting on the dirty floor trying all 20 types of slushies

spray painting the really big asshole companies buildings, going to huge rallies without having any idea what you are rallying for.

stealing the batmobile and then crashing it

the adrenaline makes you hot and bothered and it leads to more. and once its over you go to a shady Chinese place and tip 200 on a 40 dollar meal.

he gets you, you get him and you don't need labels to show your love to each other. and who needs someone else when you have everything you could want within each other? and then someday when you're ready and if you are ready, you can always make it official. its all up to you two , fuck the labels

#Tim Drake x Reader #Tim Drake x You #Tim Drake x Y/N #Tim Drake Fluff #Tim Drake Angst #Tim Drake Comfort #Tim Drake Headcanons #Tim Drake Imagines #Red Robin x Reader #Red Robin x You #Red Robin x Y/N #Batfamily #Batfamily x Reader #Batfamily Fluff #Batfamily x You #Batfamily x Y/N #Batfamily Headcanons #Batfamily Imagines #Batboys #Batboys x Reader #Batboys Fluff #Batboys Headcanons #Batboys Imagines #Jason Todd + Red Hood #Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x You #Jason Todd x Y/N #Jason Todd Fluff #Jason Todd Angst #Jason Todd Comfort

[invisible-lint]

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 1

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: Tamlin has sent Feyre away. Emotions follow

Warnings: more angst. Allusions to Under the Mountain happenings, but not in much detail

Word Count: 1.2k

Prologue

You rush into the manor, hoping that you can get far enough away before the emotion churning in your chest consumes you. You couldn’t be the supportive sister you supposed Tamlin wanted you to be right now, weren’t sure you thought it was what he deserved. After all, it was his fault that the human he loved was leaving. It was his fault that you were all doomed to be taken Under the Mountain. It was his fault that Andras’ death was now for nothing. So no, you decide, he does not deserve your pity.

You manage to stumble your way into your bedroom, tears stinging in your eyes, burning your throat. You yank a pillow off the bed, burying your face into it before you scream, letting the emotion overwhelm you. You are angry, so angry that you ignore the knocking on your door. How could Tamlin do this? Sacrifice everyone and everything for his human love. Does he know how much it stings? His betrayal? That his love was enough was enough to save her. But you, your love? That was not enough to save Andras. You fling yourself onto the bed. This is where you will stay until they come to drag you all down Under the Mountain, you don’t care anymore. There’s nothing left for you to care about.

You wander the hall, ignoring the chill that hasn’t left your bones the entire time down here, no matter what you did. You didn’t sleep, finding it nearly impossible to. It had only been a few nights spent under the mountain, but already what you had seen haunted you every time you closed your eyes. You think of what Andras had said that day in the forest, about wanting to save you. If only he could see how ruined you were now. Would he be as angry with your brother as you are? You suppose, the one relief is that he is not here with you. You would not wish him here in this place even now as loneliness echoes in your soul. You aren’t thinking about where your body is taking you, only stopping as you nearly collide with the male in front of you. Your sudden stop has you nearly tipping off balance, and he reaches a hand out, steadying you. You look up at him, your own eyes meeting his violet ones.

“You shouldn’t roam by yourself at night. It’s not safe.”

“Yes, well you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Rhysand?” you question, voice as icy as you feel.

He ignores the jab, directing you towards your room. “Allow me to escort you.”

You say nothing, following as he guides you. You say nothing as he directs you to the armchair and waves a hand, a fire springing to life in the hearth. You remain silent until he’s about to leave the room.

“Why did you leave me there?” He turns to you, eyes filled with confusion.

“The night you came to Spring and killed my father and brothers. I followed you out to the garden and begged you to either take me with you or kill me too. But you just left me there. Why?”

Your eyes meet his, filled with so much grief and pain, and he finds himself wondering what you went through before you found yourself down here. You stand, crossing to him, angry at the tears that sting your eyes. 

“It would have been wrong.”

You choke out a bitter laugh. “And look at me now. I would have been better off.”

He’s not sure why he does it, but he brushes past your wards with ease, helping your troubled mind find unconsciousness, catching you as you crumple. He tucks you into bed, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear, bringing kinder memories to the front of your mind, helping you find pleasant dreams for once.

He tries to find you again the next few nights, uncertain of why he feels so suddenly drawn to you. But he remains unlucky, as if you're avoiding him as hard as he's trying to find you.

It’s shortly after that Feyre finds her way Under the Mountain to rescue Tamlin. You aren’t sure how you feel, but there's one thing you know for certain. You will do anything within your power to help her. To make Andras’ death mean something. You find her the night after, a spare blanket and food hidden underneath your cloak. You see him again as you make your way to the cells, eyes meeting his across the distance before hurrying away. 

You enter the cell and take in the sight of the human woman in front of you, holding a finger to your lips as you cross over to her, kneeling at her side, healing her. You give her the food and the blanket. She tries apologizing for Andras once more, but you shush her, shaking your head. 

“You are not the one I am angry with. You are not the one who needs to apologize. I can understand why you… did what you did.” She looks almost surprised. “I will help you however I can without interfering. I will help you beat her, for Andras.” She smiles and you find yourself smiling too, the movement feeling odd after so much time. 

You rush to the cells, hoping you are not too late. You enter as Rhysand exits and Feyre looks at you.

“I tried to wait for you to come. You said you would come. But a human can die so quickly from that kind of thing and I-” 

You interrupt her, dropping to your knees beside her, pulling her into a tight hug, choking back a sob. “I was just worried that I was too late and you were already dead. I don’t care what bargain you made with him. It saved your life, and when we get out of here, I will face it with you. You are too important Feyre.” She tells you of the bargain, and you smile. “You know, I have always wanted to see the Night Court.”

More time has passed and Feyre has beaten the trials. You watch in horror, unable to intervene, frozen to the spot, as Amarantha hurts Feyre, wishing you could fight for her. You glare at your brother, cursing him for not fighting for her. Why can’t he fight for her the way you already had? Why had he given up so easily? You gasp as Feyre answers the riddle and the mask falls from your face. You step forward as Amarantha snaps Feyre’s neck, wanting to do something, anything. You watch as finally, Tamlin does something, killing her, ripping her throat out. You sink to your knees, unable to help the relief that floods your veins along with the grief. Amarantha was dead and that meant that your husband’s death would finally mean something. That you had not lost everything for nothing.

  You watch on as the High Lords all revive Feyre, bringing her back as a fae. You ignore the purple-eyed male staring at you and whatever it is you feel pulling you to him. There would be time to worry about that later, but for now, you find yourself at Feyre's other side, realizing that although you had lost so much, there were things you had gained too.

A/N: And there it is! Not feeling great about this one, but everytime I tried fixing it I found myself writing the next parts, so here it is! Requests are open, so feel free to send some in! I'd love to write some one shots too!

divider is by @tsunami-of-tears

taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #imagine

[judeswhore]

u and jude not being able to stand each other but still hooking up on the dl bc no matter how annoying the other is, u can’t deny that the sex is amazing. but one thing that u promised yourself is that you’d never boost his ego bc u already think he’s cocky enough, so u always try to refrain from letting him know how good he makes u feel cuz it’ll go to his head🫢

so one time u guys are going at it and you are literally going dumb from how good it is and he can tell that ur liking it so he’s being all annoying and teasing you. and eventually when ur close to the most intense orgasm of ur life to pull out and he’s like why and u don’t wanna admit the real reason so ur like “cuz i said so” and he knows why ur asking him to so he’s winding u up until eventually u blurt out that it’s cuz ur about to squirt. so after you guys have finished, he is being the biggest pain in the ass and ur annoyed bc there is nothing u can say or do to even convince him that the sex was mid

the two of u have just never gotten along despite having been in the same friend group for so many years and everyone has just accepted that the two of u have this weird hatred towards the other and love bickering and arguing over literally everything so they barely even bat an eyelash anymore. but despite always arguing and saying how much u hate each other the tension and attraction has always been obvious until it got to a point u couldn’t deny it anymore and after a few drinks one night u ended up sleeping together and after that it just became routine. but u still maintain the fact u dislike each other and it kinda makes the sex hotter bc you’ll both constantly tease the other abt “thought u hated me? why’re u begging for it then” and for some reason it just makes everything a lot more intense and even a little more fun?

but u hate letting jude know that he’s the best person you’ve ever slept with and that he makes u feel so good so ur always acting so nonchalant afterwards, leaving straight away and acting like it’s no big deal and like the sex was mediocre. or you’ll slip in a comment abt how “ur effort was poor this time it was kinda disappointing” even tho ur lying through ur teeth. then one night after you’ve spent a little while apart ur making up for that lost time and hes already made u cum a handful of times on his fingers and tongue so ur completely fucked out and so overly sensitive. he’s got u spread out on his bed, up on his knees a little between ur legs so he can watch the way ur whole body shakes and he’s got one hand pressed against ur lower tummy to apply pressure while he rubs his thumb over ur clit and he’s teasing u so much abt how ur crying and the mess you’ve made and “babe, c’mon ur squeezing the life outta my cock what happened to still hating me?” and ur just whining a little, nails biting into his forearm in retaliation. but the way he’s fucking u and the angle and his hand on u has ur pleasure at its peak and u recognise that it feels different than usual and u know ur abt to squirt and u really don’t want to give him that satisfaction bc you’d previously told him he’d never be able to get u to. so ur gasping a little and telling him to pull out, trying to push his palm away from ur tummy to ease up on the pressure but he’s just cocking his head a little and asking why w this shit eating grin bc he knows ur body better than u do and he can tell this orgasm is gna be a lot stronger than ur others.

he’s just leaning down over u, pace never faltering while he’s all “stop being stubborn and give it to me. let go, baby” and in between he’s mumbling little things to wind u up abt how he knows he’s fucking u good and that there’s no way u hate him as much as u say when ur creaming all over his cock and those little mocking phrases paired w the way he’s fucking u has u tumbling over the edge and u end up squirting a little and he’s just so cocky and full of himself over it, continuing to wind up up over how badly he effects u. and then afterwards ur going through the usual routine of acting like it wasn’t the best sex of ur life while getting ready to leave but ofc he’s having none of that and he’s just teasing u abt the mess u made and how u ruined his sheets and that u got so loud he’s sure the neighbours heard and u just know he’s never gna let it go

#hey jude :)

[xspeter]

part of the ‘dancing with our hands tied’ collection

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... You discover Luke does remember that night.

note: kind of a short one, sorry guys !!

W.C: 1.2k

You wanted to enjoy the party. Really, you did, but you were completely and utterly exhausted.

How could you not be? There’d been an accident in the strawberry fields that you still didn’t quite understand how it even occurred in the first place, so you’d been on your feet from sunrise to sunset taking care of everyone involved.

The only thing you wanted to do as soon as everything was said and done was go to your cabin and sleep, but you’d promised your older sister you’d be here. Apparently, she needed “emotional support” to talk to her crush, but from where you stand now you can see they look perfectly comfortable.

You sigh, taking another sip of your beer. You’d barely touched it, and some stupid part of you thought maybe it’d help you wake up. But, you were pretty sure it was doing just the opposite.

“You look happy.” Someone says in front of you, and you don’t have to look up to know who it is.

“Ecstatic.”

Luke huffs out a laugh, right hand in his shorts pocket as he brings the other up to his mouth and sips on his beer. “I heard about what happened with the Demeter kids. Are they alright?”

You just shrug, back hunched over as you slump into yourself. “They’ll be fine. Just… I don’t understand how the Stymphalian Birds even got through the border.”

Luke takes a seat next to you on the log, knees cracking as he does. “Someone probably summoned them as a stupid prank. I wouldn’t think too much into it.”

You just sigh, turning your head so you’re facing him. “I know that. It’s just…” You trail off, unable to put your thoughts into words. It was just too much of a coincidence. The lighting bolt being stolen, a war potentially breaking out between the Gods, and now this?

Luke doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he just places his hand on your knee comfortingly, thumb beginning to rub random shapes into your skin. You relish in the feeling, his calloused hands are rough but oh so warm.

“Why don’t we go back to your cabin and get your mind off things?” Luke murmurs in your ear, but you grunt in protest. “Can’t,” You sigh, “I promised Alice I’d be her emotional support.”

Luke looks up, brown eyes searching for your sister. When he finds her, he can’t help but snort. He points to her, guiding your line of sight. “I think Alice is okay.”

And. Well. Yes. She looked like she was perfectly fine, laughing it up with the boy she liked. But you didn’t want to just leave without telling her.

You voiced that to Luke, who nodded and then got up without another word. You watched as he interrupted whatever conversation Alice was having and pointed to you. The three of them turned back and you attempted a wave, which Alice sheepishly returned.

You aren’t sure exactly what Luke said to her, but by the time he returns to you he grabs your hand and hauls you to your feet. You're so tired you feel as if you can barely stand, and you rely heavily on Luke to lead you back to your cabin.

It’s nearly empty when you reach it, save a few younger kids who are already passed out. You practically death drop onto your bed, legs hanging off of it and arms strewn above your head.

Luke chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he kneels in front of you and begins untying the laces of your converse, pulling them off your socked feet and laying them gently next to your bed.

You barely even register it, eyes closed and breathing shallow. If Luke didn’t know any better, he’d think you were already asleep. But the slight smile on your face tells him you’re not.

But, he’d let you pretend.

He removes your makeup for you, gently rubbing at your face. You sigh happily as he does, and it’d be a lie if he said the sound doesn’t make his heart melt.

But, it was normal to feel that way about your best friend.

By the time he’s finished he kisses the top of your head and turns to leave, but you whine. “Luke,” You murmur, voice raspy. “Stay with me tonight? Please?”

Luke had never stayed the night in your cabin before this. You’d stayed the night in his a handful of times, but that was it. This felt like uncharted territory. Still, despite the slight tremble in his voice, he says, “‘Course, Sweetheart. Anything you want.”

You grin, scooting over and making room for him. He slips off his shoes, setting them besides yours in an act that feels entirely domestic.

He lays into the unfamiliarity of your bed. Your bed that smells of lemons and vanilla, just like you. That is still warm with your body heat. Your bed that is yours.

You let out a sigh of content, laying your head on his chest like you always do. Only this time, Luke only slightly wishes you weren’t, all too aware of the rapid beating of his own heart.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You fully expect Luke to recall the first day you’d gone and changed his bandages, but he doesn’t.

“When you sang to me?”

You nearly shoot up at that, eyes wide. “You- You remember that?”

Luke laughs nervously, eyebrows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I? You saved my life.”

While that’s true, you’d completely suspected Luke would be in too much pain to even remember that. His mind would’ve blocked out the trauma. “I thought…”

Luke grins, “What? That I’d blocked it out?” That was exactly what you thought, yes.

“Well, I mean, yeah.”

Luke shakes his head, playing with your fingers that are spread out on his belly. “At first, I wished I had. I mean, who likes to remember themselves screaming bloody murder in front of their friends?” He attempts to joke, but you shoot him a warning look.

He takes the hint and averts his gaze from yours. He swallows, “But, uh, then I remember you singing and I thank The Gods for letting me remember.”

That statement makes you flush. He thanks The Gods for letting him remember what you're sure has to be one of the worst days of his life– because of you? Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you allow Luke to intertwine your fingers together and rest them against his stomach.

For some reason, you feel almost guilty. Guilty that Luke would thank such divine beings for you. “There are better things to thank The Gods for.” You murmur.

Luke's expression almost darkens, but he never tears his gaze from yours. “No,” He mutters, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips, “There aren’t.”

You aren’t sure how to take that statement, but Luke doesn’t give you any time to process anyway. Slowly, his grin returns to his face, and he whispers, “Let's go to bed, yeah?”

You swallow, nodding hesitantly and allowing him to lead your head to his chest. But, even as his fingers run through your hair and slowly lull you to sleep, you can’t get his words out of your head.

taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead @sflame15-blog @cherr-y-eji @wen-oo

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #kats works #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians fanfic

[daenysx]

hi angel! what about reader is best friends with aegon and she likes him but modern! aemond likes her. aemond always comforts her when aegon chooses to blow off their hangouts and then she slowly falls for aemond 😇

hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i liked this so much, i hope you enjoy too. requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort ♡

aemond can't stand the wrinkle forming between your eyebrows whenever aegon disappoints you.

"sorry, aemond." you say, blushing hard on your cheeks. "i thought he'd be home, he didn't answer my texts."

his hands shake, he curls his fingers to relieve a bit of tension. "it's okay." he manages to say. "but i don't know where he is."

you look at your hands, biting your bottom lip like you do every time you are upset. aemond hates how he's unable to comfort you, how useless. you try to smile after a second, looking at him with big eyes as if you're trying to stop yourself from crying.

there's always a distance between you and aemond. "sorry for bothering you again." you say, giving him one of your easy smiles. "i'll just leave."

you take a step back. aemond would be damned if he let you go. "wait." he calls. "do you wanna come in?"

you look unsure. you probably think aemond only plays nice with you just because he feels guilty for his brother. the truth is far from it. aemond once saw you cry because of aegon, how your shoulders were shaking and your lips bitten raw. the image of your sad face haunts him, knowing how he'll never be the one you care about makes him wanna beat aegon. how dare he? who does he think he is? how can he have you as his best friend and not even bother to answer your texts when aemond is desperate for one smile from your lips?

"i took enough of your time." you say.

"no, i-" and now he can't even form a proper sentence. "please."

your eyes find his face. "you don't have to do it, aemond."

he doesn't know what you're talking about. "what?"

"you don't have to try to fix his mistakes." you say, somehow you look bolder and more upset, it shatters his heart.

"i'm not- i-"

"i appreciate the effort, i really do." you say. "you probably think how much of a fool i'm being by waiting for his text when he's out there hanging out with people i don't even know."

you stop, take a deep breath. that's when a teardrop rolls on your cheek. "i know it's stupid." you say. "i know he'll never look at me the way i look at him but i can't control how i feel. i- i just-"

your entire body is shaking as you start crying loudly. fuck. aemond's never been good with crying people but he'd burn down the entire world if he could stop your tears. he feels a protective wave in his chest, it's urging him to take the step to get you. you try to dry your tears, totally unable to calm down. you can't even look at aemond, how pathetic are you being right now? crying in front of your so-called best friend's baby brother. aemond should have better things to do other than listening to a girl cry over aegon.

"i'm so sorry." you say when you can finally breathe. "i'm not being fair to you. i'll just leave, you can-"

aemond snaps out of the trance. he rushes to you, his long arms are wrapped around your shoulders easily. you melt, starved for a comforting touch. he holds the back of your neck, fingers lightly wandering in your hair as he puts your head on his shoulder. you bury your face to his neck, wrap your arms around his waist. he smells nice. so nice like the rain or soft morning breeze.

aemond doesn't know how he'd wait so long to hug you. he closes his eye to the smell of your shampoo. his mind is clear like it never has been before. is this what holding you feels like? his skin is desperate for any contact, he's been starved for so long. he can get addicted to holding you easily, the possibility of never doing it again terrifies him. he loses his voice, he loses his patience.

you cry on his shoulder. he rubs a slow hand on your back, his lips tight on your head. he can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, his fingers itch to dry them up.

you pull back, mortified. you look like you're gonna say sorry again but he can't have that. not again. you're not the person who should say sorry for having feelings or being brave enough to accept them.

"you're not being fair to me." he says. "you don't even know what you do to me."

he begs himself to shut up. he'll lose you. he'll lose the smallest contact with you if he keeps talking.

"i-" you start, still in his arms.

"no." he cuts your words. "it's not fair at all."

maybe people are right about the targaryen madness. nothing he does right now makes sense to him but he can't help himself. he just can't go on like this, not anymore. not when he got you in his arms.

"he- he doesn't deserve you." aemond says with a low voice. "but you know that, don't you? you've always been too clever for your own good."

"what can i do about that, aemond?" you whisper. "i'm trying to get over it. he's my best friend, do you see how fucked up this is?"

aemond shakes his head, his hand on your waist tightens. "trust me, i know about fucked up feelings. i know- i can understand how terrible you feel."

"and i didn't mean to be unfair to you." you continue. your tears dry on your cheeks. "i know you don't have to deal with this but you're nice enough to care about me. i won't disturb you again, i promise."

he takes a deep breath to stop himself from screaming. you're killing him. you don't even know.

"do you think the goodness in my heart is the reason for caring about you?" he asks, can't help gritting his teeth.

you look confused. he wants to kiss you so bad.

"you know what?" he backs off. "let's stop this- just forget i said anything."

he stops holding you, angry at himself for being a coward. he can feel the pins and needles on his hands, his shoulders are tense again.

"are you kidding me?" you ask, your voice is sad all over again. "why- why are you trying to mess with me? have i been that much of a bother to you?"

"stop!" he says loudly. you don't flinch, just stay on your spot with fresh tears on your eyes. aemond will not be the reason of your tears.

"stop saying that you're bothering me." he begs. "stop it- i can't take it anymore."

"then why?"

"because i'm in love with you." he says finally. "i've been in love with you for so long but you're not even aware of my existence when you're not asking for aegon! you think you're the only one with fucked up feelings?"

he kept everything to himself for so long, now that he starts he can't stop.

"you don't know what it's like to see you crying because of that prick. you don't know how i wished that it could be me- just for once let it be me who you care about. you don't know-"

he gets on his knees at the door to his apartment. his face pressed against his palms, staying vulnerable in front of you. he is so fucked. he half expects you to run away.

you are frozen on your feet. you always thought aemond was just being nice to you, all those times he offered you a cup of coffee and listened to you ramble about things. all the smiles he gave you, you were thinking he thought you are pathetic. you don't know what to think now.

it's like you're being controlled by someone else when you kneel beside him. your gentle hands pull his face to your shoulder just like he did minutes ago. you stroke his hair, nails scratching on his neck to give him a little peace. he holds onto you. you hold him back.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i'm so sorry, aemond."

"stop it." he says, finding his voice. "you are not guilty of my feelings."

"i wish i'd known before." you whisper. "i never meant to hurt you."

"don't- please don't run away from me." he pleads. "you don't have to see my face ever again but- i can't lose you."

you kiss his hairline just because it feels right. he feels right at that moment, your legs are numb on his doorstep and your fingers are quick to ease his worries.

"you're not losing me." you say. "i promise i won't leave."

aemond has never begged for anything in his life. wishing is different but begging would make him feel like a desperate man. he's too proud for it. he loses all his pride at your feet.

you cup his cheeks, looking at him through wet lashes. "it's not okay." you say. "it's not."

"i know you'll never feel the same for me." he says, words feel like poison on his lips. "and it's okay."

"there's nothing we can do." he replies. "you can't force yourself to love someone else."

you give him a broken smile. your finger draws a star on his cheek. "can we get inside?" you ask. "i think we need to talk about it properly and- we both need time."

"i don't want you to pity me." aemond says. "you don't have to do this."

"this is not pitying." you say. "i was going to the wrong direction before but- if you give me some time i can find my way."

even the hope of it makes him lightheaded. you are willing to talk about everything honestly with him, trying to give both of you a chance to be happy. you don't want to lose him, not when he feels so right in your arms. not when he holds you like he's protecting you from everything.

when you stand up to walk into the apartment, aemond holds your hand. you squeeze his fingers.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #hotd #aemond one eye #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond x reader #house targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine

[vivelegalite]

dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

#please interact w me please please please i need dbd moots <3 #dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #paynland #payneland #painland #paineland #chedwin #charles rowland #edwin paine #edwin payne #dead boy detectives agency #dead boy detectives analysis #aough jayden your mind #my art #<- my umbrella trashcan tag

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys insecurity’s

──☆*:・ﾟ

!Angst!

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s grown up an outcast so he’s slightly insecure anyways (poor thing). He thinks he’s a bother to you sometimes and gets himself in a slump. You noticed how hes been rather quiet with you, not asking for anything, not begging for cuddles or kisses, you knew something must have been wrong. And it was confirmed when you over heard him talking to himself in the mirror, basically just insulting himself

“Why cant i just do better…” “why do I have to be so annoying…everyone thinks I’m annoying…probably even y/n. They could do so much better why m-” “NARUTO DONT YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE” you bust down the door causing naruto to quickly wipe his teary eyes “hey y/n! W-what do you mean?” “You know what I mean naruto.” You reach for his cheek to make sure he keeps his eyes on you “your not a bother naruto. And you deserve me as much as I deserve you! Why are you saying this?” He’s in full blown tears now, ugly crying and everything “e-everyone already thinks that way about me I-I thought you would think the same after a w-while” he sniffs “foxy…do I need..to show you how much you mean to me?” His eyes widen at the fact that he actually means something to you. For the rest of the night you never left him alone once, you spoiled him so much more that normal which made him feel so much better. He loves youuuuuu

Sasuke🗡️-*

Also was treated like an outcast but it didn’t affect him in the way it affected naruto. He doesn’t really think he’s a bother, if anything he’s scared that you think your the bother, since he’s so “cold” towards you sometimes he’s scared your going to leave or think he doesn’t love you anymore. Once it got so overwhelming for him he had teary eyes for hours just thinking about how he acts, he decided he needed to tell you. Once he found you he ran towards you and engulfed you in a big hug. You thought this was adorable or him being silly until you felt something wet on your shoulder followed by a broken breath

“S-sasuke? What’s wrong…Are you crying?” You could hear a sad whimper coming from him. “I love you. I-I love you so much y/n please don’t forget. No matter how I act I-” “I know. Baby I know. I love you too, what’s this about, your scaring me?” He didn’t dare remove his tear stained head from your shoulder “I know I’m…mean s-sometimes but-” it finally clicked for you why he was so upset all of a sudden “sasuke… your not mean! And I know you love me no matter how you act.” “I..just thought…no one understands how I truly feel. I just Need you to know…t-that I do love you” he pulls away from your shoulder to wipe his eyes before turning away from embarrassment. He felt you wrapping your arms around him causing him to jump. “I’m sorry y/n. I’m just over reacting” “no don’t. Don’t say that… I think we should lay down. You need to relax do you need me to help you? I know you feel…weak” he takes a deep breath “please y/n… yes” you both walk together to your bed. Trust me when I tell you he is going to feel a lot better after some comfort *wink*

Itachi🥀-*

He just feels… worthless sometimes. He just doesn’t feel worthy of good things that happen in his life, aka you. He doesn’t feel worthy of you. But he is very open with you unlike others, he tells you what’s wrong no matter what.

“Y/n. I have uhm… I have some feeling I would like to share.” “Of course Love, what’s up?” “I…” You gaze softens realizing he’s going to get upset “I don’t feel worthy.” “Oh…tachi… come here” you pat the spot next to you but instead he took your lap instead, he reaches in for a hug before speaking up again “tell me you love me. Please. And tell me I’m worthy…” “you are the love of my life. And you are worthy of that love. No matter what you think you deserve love.” That is all he needs to hear. Although he gets very upset you can always calm him down. It does happen more often but you do not care. Anything to make him feel better.

Kakashi🍃-*

We all know he’s very attractive but that doesn’t mean he thinks the same. He doesn’t like his scar, he doesn’t like the story it holds and he doesn’t like the look of it. He can hold back the insecurity in battle because he knows it’s not worth dying because he thinks it’s ugly, but he cant hold back the insecurity on a day to day basis with you, he gets extremely timid with you. You see him with the mask off all the time so it’s kinda funny that you rarely see him without something covering his eye. But you just thought he forgets it’s there so you didn’t think about insecurity, but when you walk in on him washing his face he almost instantly covered his eye with his palm you knew something was wrong

“Ay? Why you covering that cute face?!” “Aha thanks y/n” he chuckles trying to make you ignore it yet he still kept his hand up “serious what’s with your hand?” “Well..ah you know..” he points to his eye with his other hand “what your scar? Babe I don’t care” he smiles softly before replying “I care…” “take your hand away” “I’d rather not-” “kakashi.” Groans “yes y/n…” he drops his hand and you let out a content sigh “there’s my baby” you grab his face with both hands and kiss his scar softly “you don’t find it odd?” He looks away while blushing “no kakashi I don’t find it odd because I love you.” He flashes a smile before turning back to the mirror with a weird look still on his face, to lighten the mood you grabbed him my the cheeks to shake his head back and forth before giggling at him. “Cutiee” you comment before kissing his beauty mark then walking back out the door.

Kiba🐺-*

He’s sensitive, he may be a big joker but if someone else says the wrong thing he will not be happy, normally the only thing he doesn’t like being called is a mutt or a dog. It makes him feel ashamed of him family quirk. Just because he loves animals doesn’t mean he is one right? He started thinking maybe he is just a dog. A Dirty, annoying, unfunny mutt. He started to feel like foolish for loving a dog so much, but he can’t help it it’s the family he was born into.

He has been rather distant from akamaru, still taking him on mission but recently he hasn’t been letting his puppy in the house as much anymore and he gets upset when you let him in instead. “Why did you let him in the house y/n!” “His a good boy he won’t chew up furniture if anything you would!” You we’re just trying to lighten the mood but it didn’t help “akamaru outside now!” He commands “come on why don’t you want him inside??” “You don’t need two mutts in the house y/n” this confused you for obvious reasons “two mutts? Are you talking about yourself? Your not…your not a dog thought?” He crosses his arms in protest “tell that to my friends, Or anyone because for some reason they all think I am a dog stuck in human form and it’s getting old.” You chuckle nervously “your not? If your talking about your dog like features and fighting style it’s just your quirk? It’s not your fault you can’t choose” he lowers his head “even you think I’m a dog sometimes!” “No baby. I dont I think your a human just with some animal features but most of your family is like that?” “If you don’t think I’m an animal why do you call me names like puppy.” He’s stretching, he loves it when you call him that he’s just in a mood “I call you that because you love attention and can’t go a day without seeing your loved ones. Plus your as cute as a pup!” His shoulders relax finally realizing he shouldn’t be upset over this. “I just feel ashamed of who I am sometimes y/n I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. I love who you are if that makes it better” he chuckles “yeah…it kind of does make it better honestly…can you kiss me..?” He smile at his sudden change of mood “of course!”

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He knows he’s good looking but he also knows he’s not the best, he also knows your absolutely stunning, so it gets to him sometimes without realizing is, he changes his look every now and then to see if it would make him feel better. Maybe make him more attractive to you he hopes

“Dear could you turn around please?” “Sure shika whats u-” you stop dead in your tracks with a shocked look on your face “your hair is down!!!” You exclaim, the only time you see his hair down is when he is sleeping, you’ve never seen it down when he’s awake “I know, I’m trying something, does it look good?” You giggle “You always look good darling, just not use to it that’s all” you walk over to grab a handful of his hair which was slicked back but not up in a ponytail anymore. “Well I think you look handsome no matter what” he groans “don’t lie to me does it make me look worse?” You give him a nasty look “worse? You say that as if you already look bad…?” “Well eh-” “well what? Your very attractive Shika do you think other wise?” He puts his hands in his pockets “uhm sometimes-” “oh come on!” You grab his face “your soooo handsome no matter what you do with your hairrrr” you tease. He continued to make eye contact with you while a smile grows on his face. “…can I put a little braid in your hair?” “No” “Aw man.”

Shino🪲-*

He’s ok with his looks and doesn’t feel like a burden on you, oddly enough the only thing he’s insecure about is his voice. He thinks he sounds funny sometimes and doesn’t like how raspy it is, that’s why sometimes he doesn’t talk to you that much. Sometimes all he responds with is either nodding his head or shaking it which makes you feel bad

“What do you feel for dinner love bug?” “…” you looked around because maybe he left the room but no, he just didn’t respond. “Uhm hello???” “…” “are you hungry?” He shakes his head yes “with words please?” He looks around before responding quietly “yes I’m hungry” you giggle not quiet knowing what’s up with him “why are you so timid right now?” He finally speaks up “do you think I sound funny y/n?” “Uh no? Why” “sometimes I feel like my voice isn’t that pleasing.” “It sound pleasing to me-” he lightened up at the compliment “really?” “Yes of course!” When he’s insecure he normally gets over it fast, he’s rational and knows when he’s just being silly

Neji🎋-*

He knows he can choose his own destiny, he just wish the preset plan for him was burned into his forehead. He hated it so much, he was disgusted by it and therefor disgusted with himself. Sometimes you find him crying in the mirror over the symbol plastered onto him. But you always let him know that it doesn’t define him

You could hear cries coming from the bathroom and you couldn’t take it anymore so you decide to knock “sweetheart…are you crying?” He knew there was no point in lying anymore “y-yes..” “may I come in?” You could hear a cracked “mhm…” coming from the other side or the door so you walk in, immediately pulling him into your chest. “What happened. Did Someone do this?” He pulls away from your chest just to look back to the mirror to cover his mark while his lip quivered. You finally realized what was happening. “Give me your hand please..” he obliged lowering his hand. You grabbed his cheek and gave a very long forehead kiss. “Your worth more than this mark Neji.” You mumble against his head. You decided the best thing to do is go to bed and give him more love so that’s just what you did

Lee🥋-*

He may seem strong so it was shocking to you when he confided in you about how he’s insecure about almost everything about him (poor thing) he try’s to stay strong but he can’t help but get vulnerable with you

All you were doing was giving him love but he just felt unworthy of it. “My handsome, strong, perfect boy!~” kiss “well I don’t know if those words are accurate but thank you my precious!” You huff at his self doubt “don’t say that, your all of those things?” He laughs nervously “I don’t think so heh” “you are! You don’t think your handsome or strong…?” You frown “well uhm y/n…It obvious I’m not the best looking, and yeah I’m strong but…I could always be stronger.” He looked down at his feet in shame “Lee…take it back.” “W-what” “take it back. No one is allowed to insult my baby like that, not even himself.” He thought you were just joking until he looked up into your eyes to see the seriousness that laid in them, he could see tears forming in your eyes. “Please Lee. Take it back.” “I-I…I take it back y/n I’m sorry” “please…don’t ever say things that that again”

Choji🍥-*

He’s always been bullied because of his weight so of course he will be extremely insecure about it and anxious when your trying to love up on him, you knew he was insecure about it and you always told him it did it matter but you never realized to much it really affects him until your further into the relationship and you started to be more physically affectionate, he loves the affection just hates the body that it receiving it. All you were trying to do was hold him after a long day but he seemed so scared of if and you had to ask why

“Cmon let me hug you!” “No y/n..” you pout “why not! I wanna hold my fluff ball!” He cups his hands together then proceeded to look at the floor “I don’t think holding me is even possible…” your pout turned into a confusion “uh what do you mean choj?” He pinched at his stomach to hint at what he was talking about since he was to shy to actually tell you “oh…Choji you don’t need to worry about that I don’t care!” “I care because it means I can’t do certain things! How are you supposed to hold me!” You scoff “I’m confident I could carry you like a baby if I needed too.” “Your just saying that to make me feel better…” he crosses his arms and puffs his cheeks up out of timidness “I’m being serious Choji! I could totally carry you! Your not as big as you think you are.” He closes his eyes so tears dont form “I’d like to see you try y/n, you won’t be able t-” since his eyes were closed he didn’t see you walk over to his side, he only realized when he felt your arm latch around his shoulders and your other cupping around his legs. He open his eyes right in time to realize you just picked him up bridal style. He gasps in reaction, he turns to your face to see not a single ounce of struggle on your face “I told you! Your not that heavy choj!” This Moment honestly cured almost all his insecurity on that subject for a very long time. And sometimes he thinks “maybe she’s just really REALLY strong” he still loves the thought behind your actions. “Heh uhm…I guess maybe I’m not. Thank you sweetie!” “Anytime bubs~” with that you place him back down on his feet and give him a very passionate kiss

Gaara⏳-*

Most of his life he was basically controlling by either others or his inner demon so he didn’t have time to worry about appearance. But ever since he finally felt in control of his own life he now worries about his appearance sadly. He doesn’t like the mark on his head, he doesn’t really like his hair either and feels like his facial features just look wrong on him. He’s very good at hiding things so you didn’t realize until you overheard a conversation with him and his brother, he figured since kankuro is considered attractive maybe he should ask him for advice!

You were wondering around trying to find Gaara to ask him god knows what until you finally hear his voice along with kankuros, you walked behind the door about to knock until gaara’s question caught your attention. “So is there anything that could make me more ‘attractive’ or something along the lines of that?” “I don’t know? Maybe try face paint chicks dig it” you could hear a sigh leaving Gaara “I don’t want to attract ‘chicks’ I just want to attract y/n.” “What makes you think she doesn’t already feel attracted to you?” “I don’t know, I just feel like if I find myself unattractive maybe she does too.” That’s enough, you have to stop this. You knock on the door making them both look at it, you swing the door open and immediately look at gaara which was all it took for kankuro to take the hint “I’m just gunna..goooo…” you and him exchange nods before he leaves. Once the door shut you look back at gaara “what was all that?” “Oh so you heard?” “Yes gaara I heard, why do you find yourself unattractive? And why are your going to your skanky brother for help?” He turns his head to continue speaking “I can’t explain why I feel that way about myself, but I went to my brother because I know he is considered attractive to others.” You sit next to gaara and grab his chin to make him look at you. You lean closely to speak “how could you not love this face~” you whisper almost seductively while you drag your thumb across his cheek bone. “What don’t you like…?” His breath hitched out of fear of spilling his insecurity’s. “I guess…I don’t like the mark on my head, and I don’t like my nose much either, I also don’t really care for my hair it makes me look like a clown sometimes.” He’s waiting for you to agree with him but instead you lean closer to kiss everything he listed, first his little nose, then his marking and then you drag your hand through his hair which made him flushed. “Well I like Everything about you…” he finally makes eye contact with you, with red cheek. He took a big deep breath to reply “ok…thank you y/n. That makes me feel a bit better” you reach in for a hug which he gladly accepted!

Kankuro🪆-*

Even though he seems so hot and confident he’s much like his brother, sometimes he doesn’t like his bare face. He has make up on almost all day se rarely do you see him without any on, and when you do see him bare faced he’s weirdly shy which isn’t like him.

You both were in bed after work and you were just having a conversation, mostly it was just you talking which was weird because he’s normally high maintenance. “I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to say something like that, what do you think babe did she have a good point?” “I don’t know” his head is slightly turned to the side opposite of you which made it almost impossible to see him, he just washed his face so he’s completely bare faced yet won’t even look at you. “Babe? Cmon atleast look at me when I’m talking” “UGHHHHHHHH fine.” He turns to You shyly avoiding eye contact before replying “she’s in the wrong for saying that honestly-” you laugh “that’s exactly what I’m saying!……” you stared at his cute bare face for a little to long which made him anxious “what are you looking at y/n!” “I’m looking at your cute facee *boop*” he pulled away from your finger just to cross his arms “whateverr” you didn’t know at the time he wasn’t feeling his best but later he did tell you. But he still loves the compliment you give no matter how insecure he is at the time. Only you can make him feel better tbh

#naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto angst #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi sensei #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shino aburame #shino x reader #neji hyuga x reader #neji hyuga #neji x reader #rock lee x reader #rock lee #choji akimichi #choji x reader #choji headcanons #gaara x reader #kankuro x reader

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

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Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

#john hancock #hancock #john hancock x reader #hancock x reader #ghoul #fallout ghoul #fallout 4 #FO4 #x you #x reader #oneshot #self insert #fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout smut #my writing #fluff #romance #hurt and comfort #happy ending #pwp #angst #cooper Howard ain’t got nothing on this guy #😝

[gabessquishytum]

So there’s this manhwa called Match Made in Bed (no happy ending for the main couple I’m afraid but the premise is very dreamling-coded) where basically this woman is recently dumped because of how stiff she is during sex so her friends decide to hire some hosts to cheer her up. Among the hosts is this one guy who’s actually a swim instructor doing a favor for his friend but he’s actually really reserved and haughty (sound familiar?) and kind of looks down on the whole practice of escorting. Eventually the woman gets hammered and he ends up taking her to a hotel room where she entices him into sleeping with her to prove she can be a good lay and surprise surprise, their sexual compatibility is off the charts and they have sex nine times. But afterwards they don’t know how to move forward because she can’t imagine dating a host (even tho he’s not) and he can’t stand rich women who go around flaunting their money and hiring escorts (she was lying about her job as a stewardess too). But at the same time, they can’t keep their hands off each other. And so, shenanigans and misunderstandings ensue. I can totally imagine Hob and Dream in this scenario where they keep saying tonight will be the last night but then in a turn of events they keep running into each other like it’s fate, like Hob unknowingly signing up for Dream’s swim class, and who can resist a good fuck? Hob has literally never met someone who can make him cum so many times before and Dream has never had so many wet dreams. And it’s good for both of them. They’re both getting better sleep and relieving so much stress. I imagine eventually one of them will get their act together and come clean about their true job so they can finally be happy and fuck without anything holding them back.

I am now extremely obsessed with the concept of host!Dream. Or how about, Desire is actually the host, but for some reason they've persuaded Dream to fill in for them! Probably so they can have a vacation, lol. Anyway: host!Dream.

Hob is super intimidated by the gorgeous hosts that Jo organised for him, and he ends up drinking waaayy too much. He's pretty sure that the gorgeous guy with the blue eyes is actually disgusted by him (Dream is just struggling to keep smiling for hours and hours 😭) and it makes Hob feel so discouraged. When the pretty guy escorts him to the hotel room, Hob doesn't even mean to seduce him - he literally stumbled and fell into Dream’s arms. The kiss that followed just felt natural. And after that... Well. Hob usually hates drunk sex but with Dream, he feels... incredible. He doesn't even feel intoxicated. He just feels like he's floating, encased in a shroud of total pleasure.

Dream doesn't even know why he slept with the sad drunk guy, but. Even he has to admit that it was amazing. Hob might be awkward and dumb, but his body is everything Dream has ever wanted. He can hardly believe that it wasn't all just an amazing fantasy, but sure enough he wakes up with Hob the next day. And Dream IMMEDIATELY leaves. He doesn't like rich finance guys (Hob lied about his job, he's actually a teacher) and it's not like this host gig is even HIS job.

Hob wakes up alone, feeling physically amazing but emotionally devastated. Even though he's probably too jealous to handle dating a host, he can't help wishing that Dream stayed. At least for a morning blow job...

Of course the universe brings them right back together. Hob promised that he would finally learn to swim this year; Dream turns out to be his instructor. They fuck down in the shallow end of the pool after Hob learns to float (who needs to swim when you can cling onto a sexy man while he fucks you?), Dream shows up to pick his nephew up from school and runs in to Hob as he comes out from teaching a class. They don't have time to do anything but make out messily in a supply cupboard, but it's still incredible...

They still refuse to talk about their obvious perfect physical compatability. Hob still believes that Dream isn't really into him. Dream still can't pluck up the courage to actually speak to him. Every other week they end up in some kind of compromising position - Dream has memorised all the little scars on Hob’s body, and he's kissed every single one of them. Hob can't get off by himself anymore, not without Dream inside him.

The only consolation: Desire is back from vacation, soon. If anyone can get the idiots together, they can. But Desire isn't always inclined to be helpful... and they might just make everything worse!

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

It's time for today's Merlin au! This time featuring some Mergwenthur (mostly focused on Merthur today though, but I have some more prompts planned for Mergwenthur because I love their dynamic!) and Arthur's emotional trauma from growing up under Uther!

Also, the option that won the poll will be the post after this one!

I just want to say that this au idea is so random that I'm pretty sure it came to me in a fever dream, so bon appétit my friends! :D

In this au, set in season 5, a sorcerer working for Morgana sneaks into the castle and creates three dolls: one of Arthur, one of Gwen, and one of Merlin. We see in the show that puppets and dolls with a likeness to their target can be used in dark rituals, and that's what this sorcerer plans to do.

However, Camelot's guards manage to catch and apprehend the sorcerer (whose powers just mysteriously failed them when the guards attacked, and no one sees Merlin loitering in the servants' hallway nearby) before the sorcerer could bind the doll of Arthur to the king. So, the small dolls of Gwen and Merlin are bound to them, but Arthur's isn't.

After the sorcerer has been locked up, Arthur discovers the dolls in the sorcerer's belongings and has Gaius take a look at them. Gaius tells him that they can go ahead and destroy the doll of Arthur since it isn't bound to anyone, but they'll need to wait to destroy Gwen and Merlin's dolls, since they had already been bound with magic and now any damage done to the dolls would be done to either of them.

Arthur is, rightfully, horrified by this and, as gently as he could, placed the two dolls in a secret compartment hidden in a wall of his room. He locks the two dolls away, feeling relief that no magical harm could come to the two most important people in his life.

Meanwhile, Gaius tells Merlin and Gwen about the dolls and their temporary solution to lock them away. Merlin's kicking himself for not being able to stop the sorcerer sooner, but he soon gets to work helping Gaius look for a spell to break the bond between them and the dolls.

However, as the days go on and no solution comes up, the whole doll situation falls on the backburner as more magical situations happen that demand Gaius and Merlin's immediate attention, leaving the whole doll mess to fall to the wayside. They'd find a solution eventually, they reasoned, and their temporary solution of locking them away had worked perfectly so far, so they should focus on the more pressing matters at hand.

However, Arthur couldn't seem to quite get the dolls out of his head. The cursed objects that could take away the two most important people in his life were just sitting there! Arthur's fears about the dolls ran wild, so Arthur asked Gaius for information on those types of dolls. After all, they could more easily take precautions around the dolls if they knew more about them.

Gaius directs Arthur to a certain book in Geoffrey's library that he knew had several chapters dedicated to the magic dolls and their potential uses. Arthur thanked Gaius and, that night, dedicated himself to reading all about the dolls so he could better protect his loved ones.

Most of what Arthur read disgusted and terrified him, reading about horrifying methods of torture and execution using the dolls, which would transfer every sensation and emotion directed at them onto the person they were bound to. Eventually though, Arthur came to a shorter chapter about the positive uses of the dolls. He read about druids who had taken vows of silence using the dolls to convey their affections for their loved ones, and even powerful sorcerers using similar dolls to comfort their far-away families.

As much as Arthur tried to shove that idea violently from his mind, it became fixed in his thoughts like a fly in a spiderweb. A way for someone else to feel the full depths of his love without having to use words?

Arthur, for all of his faults, knew himself. He knew that he was not the best at conveying his emotions. Words, no matter how long he thought over them, always felt like pale reflections of the enormity of his emotions, especially in regards to his love for Gwen and Merlin. With Gwen, he often stumbled over his words, unsure of how to express the depths of his love for her, even three years into marriage. With Merlin, on the other hand, any of his attempts at affection inevitably devolved into banter and friendly name-calling, never being able to truly tell Merlin how much he meant to Arthur.

Could these dolls be the solution? Could he somehow use them to convey his feelings for his beloved Gwen and Merlin? Arthur found his eyes frequently drifting towards the secret compartment where he knew the dolls lay. Could he...

Eventually, the temptation became so strong that Arthur couldn't resist anymore. Surely, if he was gentle and careful, then everything would be fine, right? Either Merlin and Gwen would be able to feel Arthur love through the little dolls, or nothing would happen and Arthur would go about his day only slightly disappointed.

With his mind made up, Arthur checked the lock on his chamber's door to ensure that he would be alone, and made his way over to the secret compartment in his wall, unlocking it. Sitting inside, exactly where he left them, were the dolls of Merlin and Gwen.

Arthur quickly darted over to his window, where had a clear view of Merlin talking with Gwaine in the courtyard. If anything happened to Merlin because of the doll, he would know right away, and he could reassure himself that this little experiment of his wasn't doing any harm.

They were both small, with his hand being able to cover the entirety of either doll with the exception of its head. As carefully as Arthur could, he pulled each doll out of the wall and set them down gently on his desk, making sure to cushion the back of their heads as he set them down.

It wasn't until Arthur saw staring down at the dolls did he realize that the book never specified exactly how emotions were transferred. Sensations were easy enough, but it never said how to convey emotions themselves.

Well, Arthur reasoned with himself, it couldn't be that difficult. He gently picked up the doll that resembled Merlin (it even had a little jacket and a red scarf on it and everything) and held it in front of him. Arthur took a few moments to contemplate his next move, before landing on an acceptable strategy.

Willfully ignoring the voice in his head (which sounded remarkably similar to his father) that was berating Arthur for seeking comfort from these dolls like a little girl, Arthur brought the Merlin doll close to his chest and held it there, trying his best to simulate a hug. There, that was a good start!

Moving back over to the window, Arthur was relieved to see Merlin unharmed and still speaking with Gwaine with a large smile on his face, not showing any signs of pain or discomfort.

Emboldened and relieved with the knowledge that he wasn't causing any harm, Arthur next had to figure out if he was really sending his feeling through the doll, or if this was just a huge waste of Arthur's time.

Keeping his eyes trained on Merlin, Arthur brought the doll up to his face and pressed a gentle kiss onto its forehead. To his amazement, right as he had kissed the doll, Merlin suddenly stopped speaking looked rather confused, touching a hand to his forehead, as if trying to check to see if anything was there, while a blush rose on his cheeks.

Arthur could feel a huge grin break out on his face. It had worked! Merlin had felt the affection he had shown to the doll!

Arthur, cuddling the Merlin doll: Get cherished idiot! Get absolutely adored!

Merlin, wondering why the hell he feels someone hugging him: Huh, that's weird.

Over the course of the next week, Arthur experimented with different ways to convey his emotions to Gwen and Merlin through the dolls. He found that holding the dolls close and speaking to them, spilling out all of the words that he was so clumsy with when he was with Gwen or Merlin, worked the most effectively. However, just holding, cuddling, or kissing the dolls had much of the same effect.

Arthur could even see the different it made with Gwen and Merlin! Even though Arthur was too embarrassed to tell them about how he had taken to trying to express his feelings through the dolls, he could tell that both of them were happier and more affectionate with him!

Oh, it was all working out perfectly! Arthur could finally honestly express his love to Merlin and Gwen to its fullest extent, and they were happier in return (even if they didn't quite know why)!

And it was all well and good, up until Merlin was injured. Not by the doll, thank god, because Arthur would never forgive himself if something like that happened. No, it was during a routine hunt through the darkling woods, which of course had to be ruined by bandits.

Arthur had thought nothing of it at first, as it was a smaller and untrained group, but horror gripped him near the end of the fight as he turned around to see Merlin, coming out of hiding and totally unaware of the bandit's crossbow aimed at him. Arthur tries shouting for Merlin to move out of the way, but he's too late. Between one heartbeat and the next, there's suddenly a crossbow bolt sticking out of Merlin's back.

Arthur makes quick work of the four bandits standing between him and Merlin, and frantically starts trying to treat and bandage the wound on Merlin's back. The wound is deep, Arthur's panicking, and Merlin's already passed out. Luckily, the knight quickly finished off the rest of the bandits, and they ride as swiftly as they could back to Camelot so Merlin could be treated by Gaius.

Luckily, they were able to get Merlin to Gaius before Merlin lost too much blood or the wound became infected, so Gaius was able to treat Merlin's wound and give him a good prognosis. However, much to everyone's concern, Merlin still hadn't woken up, and Gaius couldn't guarantee when Merlin would wake up or fully recover.

While Gwen stayed by Merlin's side all night, Arthur couldn't bear the sight of Merlin, looking still and broken on a patient's cot. Perhaps that made Arthur weak, but he couldn't ever bear to see his loved ones in pain, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help.

Or... perhaps... there was something he could do to help. Merlin likely couldn't hear what was going on around him, but if he could feel it instead...

Arthur took Merlin's doll from its secret compartment as gently as his desperation would allow. Arthur was pretty sure that there were tears running down his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that at the moment.

With trembling hands, Arthur carefully held the doll to his chest, right over his heart. Arthur tries everything he can, from kissing the doll to just speaking to it, telling the little scrap of cloth and magic all of the things he adores about Merlin and how he cannot cope with the thought of losing him.

Everyone is relieved the next day when Merlin wakes up, still weak from his injury, but recovering nonetheless. But man, Merlin had some weird dreams while he was unconscious. He dreamed Arthur was a giant and was hugging him! Merlin tried to play it off for laughs to lighten the mood when Arthur visited him, but Arthur didn't seem to find it nearly as funny as Merlin and Gwen did. Instead, Arthur turned slightly pale at Merlin's words.

After Arthur left, Merlin and Gwen turn to each other and discuss why they think Arthur had reacted like that. They both agree that Arthur had been acting differently lately, but if anything, it was an improvement. Arthur had been more open to both giving and receiving affection with them, and he had been more open with sharing his emotions lately, being overall less of a complete prat.

So, this sudden closed off response was rather suspicious to both of them. After some discussion, they agree to search for an explanation for Arthur's strange shift in behavior. After some snooping around and looking between the gaps on the door to he servant's entrance to Arthur chambers, Merlin and Gwen saw something truly shocking.

Arthur had been removing the dolls that were bound to them to their hiding spot! Did he know how dangerous that was for the both of them! What was he even planning on doing with them?!

Many of their questions were answered, however, when Arthur started pressing kisses to the top of both doll's heads, and both Gwen and Merlin could feel the sensation of the kiss touching their heads. Oh. So that's what the whole doll situation was about, and why both of them were having sudden and unexplainable sensations and bursts of positive emotion.

It made a shocking amount of sense, especially considering how frustrated they knew Arthur could get at his lack of skills in communicating his feelings. Merlin and Gwen turned to each other, and decided to not confront Arthur about this just yet. They could let Arthur have this, and he'd tell them when he was ready.

For now, Arthur would have his peace.

And that's a wrap for this au! Honestly, this au idea was so unique that I don't even know where it came from, but there's a lot of different ways this au could go! One of my favorite ideas is that any injury the person gets is also reflected on the doll, so after Merlin or Gwen goes missing, Arthur obsessively checks the dolls to see if they're unhurt.

Anyways, I've got the au idea that won the poll (an au idea featuring Arthur being an idiot) planned for tomorrow or the next day, so I hope to see you all again soon!

And, as always, thank you for reading though my ramblings! :D

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