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elazul-sasayaki · 1 year

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I look over the invitation ticket one more time to make sure I have the right place. I'm not much of a party person, and the venue is fancy enough that I feel inadequate even in my best clothes, but I did make a promise I would at least attend. A friend of mine had apparently been invited to this "event" but had fallen ill and was unable to attend. Both he and the invitation had neglected to mention what exactly this event was, though with the manor standing in front of me, I have the social skills to recognize that asking would probably be something of a faux pas. The only clue as to what was supposed to be happening here was a photo of a chubby hybrid catwolf listed as the guest of honor. Admittedly he was easy on the eyes, but he was probably there as a speaker or maybe he was a CEO or philanthropist celebrating some big accomplishment.

I flash the doorman my ticket and he notes down the number printed on it before opening the door and gesturing me forward. The large chandelier lit ballroom is filled to capacity with all kinds of people casually milling about the place, seemingly without a care in the world, most of them appear upper class, decorated with fancy designer dresses and suits and loaded down with flashy jewelry, but I am surprised to see a number of more modestly dressed folk like myself wandering aimlessly around.

Looking around the place for what is supposed to be happening, I spot a line of people going past a table off in the distance, and make my way over there to try and at least look like I fit in. When I get closer, I find there is more activity here than I expected and get pushed out of the way a couple times by others looking to join in on whatever is happening. I fall in line, more on instinct than anything and quietly observe the room as I slowly shuffle forward.

The house is just as fancy on the inside as it is the outside, expensive looking furniture is sat neatly in its place and the occasional painting or other piece of wall art breaks up the blank spaces nicely. Clearly whomever was hosting this affair was well off enough that its cost was of little real consequence to them. How my friend managed to get a ticket to an upscale event like this is beyond me.

The line has slowly but surely been moving forward as I've been admiring the decor, and I lean around the people ahead of me to get a look at where we are going. What I see doesn't make sense at first, and it's only after a few minutes of staring that I start to comprehend what's happening.

The line passes along a table stocked with all manner of food, carved fruit displays, pasta dishes, slabs of meat, and plenty of rich desserts, it all looks mouth wateringly good and as people walk along it, they pile their plates high with the catering. When they reach the end of the table however, most of that food is being emptied into an amorphous blue blob that I realize with a start is a person! A catwolf specifically, the very same one from the ticket in fact, or at least he looks like he might have been the same one some time ago. Now he looks like a caricature of the plump hybrid the ticket depicted, bloated to preposterous proportions with a sign looped around his pudgy neck that reads "Will eat for food."

Whatever the guests don't eat as they make their way down the table is crammed into his mouth, and now that I'm closer, I can see him struggle to chew through all the goodies being pressed into his open maw. I pick up a plate as I reach the far end of the table and start piling up goodies onto it as the line makes its way down the table. Looking back, I can see only a handful of others in line behind me, it looks like everyone else has already fed the guest of honor, so I figure the most appropriate thing to do would be to treat him to dessert.

As the line ahead of me shrinks, I can only stare in awe at the catwolf, at first I thought the image of him from the ticket might have been old, but with the amount of food he is devouring, it looks very possible that the photo might have been taken only a few days prior. His shirt strains at the seams, little diamonds of blue fur showing between the buttons, and his thick arms dangle uselessly at his sides, looking like overstuffed sausage casings with how tightly they are packed into his sleeves. I can hear his stomach gurgling and churning as it processes the mass of food within, interrupted occasionally by his wheezing or gulping. He has a dim, vacant stare on his face, his eyes tearing up slightly as the person ahead of me forces a slice of pie into the half open maw of the blimp like hybrid, and then all too soon, it's my turn.

I look down at my plate, stacked high with sweets I don't remember grabbing and then back to the catwolf. He stares back at me with a pleading expression on his face, or at least as much of one as he can manage with pudgy cheeks stuffed with food like a chipmunk. I can't tell if he's pleading for mercy or pleading for more, and I hesitate, just long enough for his stomach to gurgle loudly.

I put a paw on his massive belly and gently stroke the outside, feeling it swell and shrink with each painfully full breath. He swallows more of the food he's chewing and I reach over to my plate and pass a brownie between his lips on instinct. It surprises me, that I do so without even thinking, but at the same time, it feels so right, like feeding him is what I was meant to do. Time blurs as I alternate between rubbing his churning gut and passing him more desserts, and before I know it, I'm reaching over to an empty plate.

I blink suddenly looking over at my now bare platter and then back at the doughy catwolf who is panting and groaning with fullness. It can't have been more than a few minutes, but it feels as though I had been feeding him for days. Wordlessly I step out of line and let the next person in line casually walk forward and cram a slice of beef into the immobile blue blob as they chat with another person in line, almost as if they don't even recognize what they are doing. I pull out my ticket and stare at the heavyset catwolf depicted on it, then back to the boulder sized one at the end of the table. They are unmistakably the same person, but it seems impossible that he could have gotten so fat, so quickly. Reading the invitation over, it only announces him as "Elaz" the guest of honor for this party, there's no mention of why he is the guest of honor, nor is there anything about why everyone seems to be stuffing him to the bursting point.

I look up from the ticket and watch the last person in line pour their drink into Elaz before dispersing into the crowd. Whatever reason everyone had for wanting to turn him into a food balloon doesn't seem to warrant coming back for a second round. The crowd has already started to spread out to the rest of the mansion leaving Elaz alone at the head of the table. I can't help but stare in fascination as he makes a final gulp, condemning the last of his feeding to his colossal gut. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I've already walked right up to him again and put my paws on his bulging belly. He looks at me with those vacant eyes and I can't tell if he is relieved or disappointed that I'm not forcing more food into his mouth. I gently run my paws across his bloated stomach, feeling it shift and burble as the mass of food within churns noisily. Anywhere I put a paw on him, it just seems to keep sinking deeper, first through thick fur and then through plush fat. He seems to appreciate the gesture at least, since his arms are unable to reach with how tightly they are bound by his shirt. The rubbing eventually coaxes out a few small, overstuffed burps, causing the blubbery blue ball of catwolf belly to wobble slightly.

He doesn't speak, but his panting and groaning gets ever so slightly softer, so I can tell I've given him at least some relief from the pressure. I grab a napkin from the table and lightly dab at his face to wipe away the crumbs of food that did not quite make it to his mouth before removing the sign from around his neck and laying it on the table.

Elaz shifts slightly in his chair and I can hear the aged wood creak before it snaps, sending him tumbling to the ground with a meaty slap and an uncomfortable sounding belch. His shirt, strained to the breaking point, rips a seam along the side, and soft catwolf flab oozes out through the newfound weakness.

It takes several minutes, but I am able to help haul him to his knees and eventually his feet, the entire ordeal made more difficult by his colossal weight as much as it was by his thick flabby exterior. My paws sink at least an inch into anything I grab, and it's nearly impossible to get good leverage on him when anything I can push on flows out of the way like a water balloon. When I am able to get him to his feet, I carefully guide him towards a couch lined up against a nearby wall. He can barely walk, only able to make a slow, ponderous waddle when he leans most of his weight on me, nearly burying me in warm, soft blubber. Eventually he does make it to the couch, and I have to hold onto both of his paws to ease him onto the couch so that doing so resembles sitting more than it does crashing into it.

Even as softly as I am able to sit him down, the motion jostles another belch from Elaz, and the tear in his shirt rips another few inches, but he is finally comfortable, or at least as comfortable as he can get under the circumstances. His flabby frame bulges out in every direction, and there's barely enough room left on the couch for me, but I'm able to make it work. As exhausting as getting him across the room was for me, I can only imagine how exhausting it was for him. With Elaz finally seated, I set to work rubbing his belly, receiving pleased gurgles and groans from him as he digests his massive meal. The gentle, rhythmic motion seems to help settle his stomach, and the angry growling of minutes ago is replaced by the occasional low burble. All my kneading and massaging does not erase the consequences of the catwolfs gluttony, but it does, at least, appear to make them bearable. Elaz is putty in my paws, his dim expression much more relieved than when he was, quite literally, stuffed to tears at the table.

With his tummy seemingly satisfied, I take one paw off it to lightly scratch behind his ears and under his meaty chin while my other paw absentmindedly traces patterns in his belly fur. Something about him being stuffed to the gills like that makes me want to reward him for it, I lean into my scratching and rubbing, and get pleasant sounding grunts in response.

A gurgle from his belly suddenly snaps me out of my trance, and I look around to see most of the partygoers have left. I check my watch to find it's been hours since I arrived and am surprised to realize how tired I am when I yawn. I look over to see Elaz staring at the table with that same conflicted look on his face as before, caught between wanting more and feeling like he could burst at any moment.

I get up off the couch and survey the table as I approach, spotting a now mostly melted tub of icecream that would make for a suitable offering. Cool, soft, and calorie rich, perfect for the hybrid who doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word, "enough".

I bring the tub back to the couch and sit down next to Elaz again, he opens his mouth to say something, but I press the corner of the tub to his lips and slowly tip it forwards. He starts to gulp down the thick liquid, slowly at first, but soon his greed starts to overtake his reasoning and he starts to take bigger and bigger swallows of rich dairy dessert. In only a couple of minutes, he has emptied the tub and has to take shallow breaths to recover from the ordeal. As I'm setting the empty tub on the ground, he takes a deeper breath than before and nearly shreds what little remains of his top. The rip in his shirt goes even farther this time, letting more catwolf blubber spill out, pinning me to the side of the couch so hard I have the wind knocked out of me. The two of us groan at the same time, Elaz in relief and I in pain.

After I blink the stars from my vision, I find myself half buried underneath Elaz, squashed between his frame and the frame of the couch. Trying to stand up proves futile, I'm simply too exhausted to heft the mound of fluffy blue belly out of the way, and with Elaz starting to nod off, there's no way he will be able to help me escape either. "Ah well", I think to myself, "might as well make the best of the situation and get comfortable. I've got the softest weighted blanket around, and there's nowhere I'd rather be."

Hhhhhh... Yes, yes please, this is a beautiful expansion on my silly idea, I absolutely love it and could almost feel it as I read along.

Thank you so very much for writing this, I can't think of anything else to say to express how giddy it made me feel to read it. ~w~

#Ask a Catwolf #Guest Writer #Extreme Feeding #Group Feeding #Extreme Weight Gain #Kink Stuff #Weight Gain Kink #Force Feeding Kink #Compulsive Feeding?#Tight Clothes

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amphiptere-art · 1 year

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Sightless horizon

Might do art piece later. Takes place after being friends for a while.

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Blue Moon's hands twitched as he clawed at the doorway. There was Lord night's star. The deep dark thing plulsed with energy. It hadn't been the first time Blue Moon had seen it. And hopefully it would be the last.

Carefully he crawled into the space. Lord night's home was not made for ones of his size. Forcing him to crawl forward like some sort of lizard or cat prowling. He reached a hand forward and slowly cuped the black star. Enough to hold it by it's outer gravity but not enough to touch. It was too worrisomely corrupted for him to want to touch it.

Blue Moon!

He jumped. Allowed thud sounded through the area as he hit his head on the roof. He made various noises as he tried to scramble out of the tight space. But he had lost his bearings in the spook and had missed the door. Blue Moon scrambled forward attempting to make a full turn around the room so he wasn't trying to back out through the door. He stopped halfway in his action as his eyes met a burning blue.

Blue Moon? what? what are you?

There stood Lord night. Hands raised in a position of what was once a shout. Looking up at him in a growing panic. Blue Moon stood wrapped around the far side of the room behind the star. His long gangly body stretched against the wall. Position in a way that he looked as if he was some dragon guarding its treasure. But he knew very well how it looked like in his friend's eyes.

Shadow light! I did not mean-

Blue Moon was not able to finish his sentence as the black star quickly whipped into Lord night's hands. The dark shaded lunar quickly clutching onto it like a lifeline. His eyes burned a brighter color as his body and posture adjusted itself to what Blue Moon could guess was panic and anger.

What are you doing! I told you a thousand times! I am not letting this go! Leave!

Blue Moon could only stutter slightly as he tried to unwound himself. Lord night backing up as he exited the room. Clutching the black star closer and closer with each one of his steps.

Shadow light that demon thing will cause you harm. It's darkened state a clear alarm. Please let disappear. So your troubles may vanish. your life filled with cheer.

Talk normal! I don't understand you're weird gibberish!

Blue Moon reared slightly. They had been friends for a couple of years now. Sure he still had trouble understanding but Blue Moon thought he didn't have to try to resort to such talk anymore. Blue Moon licked his lips as he readied his servos. Skimming through programming he rarely used.

The the the s-tar. It-ss b-ad. L-iv a nor-nor-mal l-l-l-ife. Live live live it with cheer.

He gave his friend hopeful look. Hoping he got the words out of that jumbled mess. Lord night stood there in contemplation for a minute. Before furring his brows and backing up more. The star glowed darkly with power that was unused.

No. no. no. NO! You don't know what I went through! it's the only thing I have! This is what makes my life happy! This is what makes it worthwhile! I'm not letting this go! No! not ever!

The frown quickly returned to its place as Blue Moon heard those words. Why couldn't his friend not get it. Why can't he just explain it to him like normal people.

All the star was was a lifeline. And power to hold a life together that it shouldn't have been holding in the first place. He already used to destroy his world. In a dark attempt to do... something given the stars color. Trapping his evil brothers and accomplishes in a forest. Evil beast chasing them. There was no reason to keep it around anymore.

All it was was a power that could be taken. Blue Moon had *seen that power taken. Thousands and thousands of instances were his friend was killed, tortured, and had lost. Some of them have been saved, but some of them haven't. He wanted to save this one before it even happened. Get rid of the dark instrument so it could be of no use to the universe anymore.

Shadow Light, hear me. hear me! That thing is a curse. It holds no purpose other than keep back You're- You're- p-pa-in. Please. please. throw it away. It is your death. it is your pain.

No I don't want to hear it!

The Blue Moon froze. Taking a back by his friends shout. Blue Moon stared at his friend. They had started breathing harshly. The star almost void like in his hands. A darkened cloud started to take the room. Despite the anger on his face he had tears in his eyes.

I don't want to hear it! You don't care! You don't understand! You just want to steal it from me! I know your star is lost! You just want to use it against me!

Just like everyone else...

Blue Moon was taken aback by his friends accusation. He had told Lord night the same story he told everyone else. And now it was being used as evidence for a plot he never made. Blue Moon slowly crawled forwards. hopeing to give his friend consolence.

No no Shadow light. That is no such plan. That tail is false. A lie to-

Was this all just a lie!

No-

It is isn't it! Just something to make me lower my guard! Well I won't let that happen! Leave before I do something drastic!

Shadow light please-

I said leave!

A black magic surrounded him as Lord night used his star to try and banish him. He could only watch in panic as the world started the fade before it was abruptly pulled back. The force of the sudden double teleportation causing him to stumble as he re-entered the world. Blue Moon held his head as it pounded. Quietly hearing Lord nights sobbing take over the space. Before they abruptly stopped.

Blue Moon spared a glance at the room. He spotted Lord night. still clutching his star. The blackened cloud around him making him seem ghostly. Eyes locked on Blue Moon's visage.

They were both interrupted as a curious beep sounded itself. Blue Moon look up over his shoulder and spotted the perpetrator. That damn cube. The cube seemed to somewhat rejoice as he spotted him. Doing a quick little circle in the air before riding forward and disintegrating into particles.

Blue Moon recomposed himself and started to get up. Causing Lord night to flinch at the movement. Blue Moon watched in silent worry as his friends breathing hitched more. Eyes glancing down at his own star and flicking back up to his in a repeated motion.

I will leave. Once the world bends. And takes me back to where it begin..... Goodbye.. no light....

But with that Blue Moon left. Crawling out through the small door and out onto the steps that led to the small city below Lord Knight's Castle. He would stay there. hidden. Until the damn cube brought him back home.

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Here's something I thought about with Lord nights and Blue Moon's relationship.

At some point Blue Moon would try to hide the star. Whether in Lord nights own universe are in his own. I had this conversation pop up in my brain. And although I didn't want to do anything big with it. I did want to write it down.

I also wanted to talk about the thing that creates blue moons sporadic teleportation.

The cube has always been here but I started writing about it less because it didn't really do anything in the storys. It was just an object that allowed for Blue moons teleportation. But it does have a couple rules.

Whether or not Blue Moon teleported there on purpose or sporadically The cube has control of how much time he spends there. It also keeps him there. forcing him back in if he himself or another force tries to take him out. The shortest the time limit can be 3 hours. the longest being a whole week.

Another rule is the sporadically part. Blue Moon can be stuck in his own universe (unless he himself removes himself from it) for weeks or months before he's randomly teleported. Or it could be a day-to-day thing. Depends on the cube.

Do I know why the cube has his power.... No.

It has control over dimensional travel. It has chosen Blue Moon as it's host. It is semi-sentient (originally it was a vessel for askers and still kind of is). It is created from a time paradox. Similarly to The song of storms from legend of Zelda.

This is all it was when it was created. And this is a story I'm using to reintroduce it back into my Canon.

Lord night (shadow light/no light) belongs to @madcatdaderpydrawer-blog

Blue Moon belongs to me.

#red blue and black #story #trapped forever au #lord night #RBB Eclipse #blue moon #tsams au #sams au #tsams bloodmoon #tsams lunar #sams bloodmoon #sams lunar

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snapfel · 2 years

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Moonflower // Fred Weasley

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Chapter 1

A/n: should I continue posting this story?

London is warm on this first September day, the streets are filled with people, who all have somewhere to go. All these people chasing through the train station, still seam to have the time to take glances at us, and I mean i get it, my cart is loaded with two suitcases and in a cage, my cat is fast asleep. I am walking through King‘s Kross with Professor Lupin, who is going to be my new teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he is carrying a lot of luggage as well. We speed through the train station, and soon we reach the tracks 9 and 10, and the quiet teacher next to me tells me to run towards a brick wall in order to get to the track. My feet cary me towards the wall and transport me into a whole new world, as I see a bright red train waiting for the students to get on.

The chatter is loud, people are everywhere, families saying goodbye, friends reuniting after the summer holidays. My heart feels tight and suddenly I am very much aware of my loneliness. I wave goodbye to Professor Lupin as he gets on the train, and I walk towards the end of the train, hoping to find a quiet spot. I finally get on, after struggling with my luggage for what feels like ages, I‘m slightly out of breath as I enter the train and I cannot help but notice people staring at my face immediately. I finally see an empty space and slide in, quietly closing the door behind me. I unlock Nala‘s cage and let her climb my lap as she purrs loudly, soon the train starts driving slowly and the landscape outside of the window becomes more green the more we drive.

The drive is smooth and relaxing, about an hour after the departure of the train two boys, that look identical and a girl enter my compartement, asking wether I still have space for them. I nod, and cannot help but notice their quick glances and stares. They all have red hair, the twins are tall and lanky, the girl is petite and sits next to their brothers. I‘m not sure wether I should start a conversation, but I decide against it, since they are already having a conversation of their own and I don‘t want to interrupt them. In oder to feel less awkward I pull out a book out of my bag and start reading, as time flies by and the train moves towards the north.

The landscape becomes more and more wild and the sky darkens with every driven mile, the atmosphere becoming more an more tense and uncomfortable somehow. I begin to freeze towards the end of the drive, and the rain turns into chunks of ice, pattering against the window. The conversation of the siblings comes to an end, everyone suddenly looks very pale, and uncomfortable. With a weird sensation growing in my stomach I swallow and put my book back into my purse. And then I see it, a boney, rotten hand opening the door of our compartement.

I am three years old again, laying on the filthy street somewhere in New York, blood stains my clothes but it is not mine, it‘s my mothers‘. I am scared and try not to move, the sensation of the deep cut across my face is burning, but at this point I am almost completely numb. As my childish brain processes that my mother should have gotten up if she was alive, but she wasn‘t anymore, nobody can lose this much blood while still being alive. The full moon peaks out from behind a cloud, it looks like a pale balloon I think to myself, then everything goes dark again and I lose my vision.

A slap hits me hard across my face and transports me back into reality.

#fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hogwarts #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #weasley twins

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jeannahas · 2 years

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A Day in the Life:

Well, what can I say? It’s another night where, at 1:27 in the morning, I, a 25 year old man, find myself unable to sleep. I’ve written in my stories, I’ve painted miniatures, I’ve contemplated the cruel nature of the universe and have also stared at my sleeping wife for a few minutes. What shall I try next?

I suppose that this will do - a random post, a random comment, thrown out into the endless void of the stream of human consciousness that is the internet.

My brother met a man once who had augmented himself with a cochlear implant that was directly wired to the emotional state of the internet. Imagine that- having weird additional sensory input at all times. He had programmed the thing to look for certain words, keying broad emotions to different tones, which gave him a real-time gauge of the overall emotional state of the web. I do wonder from time to time how that is going for him these days, if that battery is still running, or how exactly that kind of system works, but mainly I wonder what sort of sounds would he hear right now? Is there a tone for apathy and empty boredom? Is there a tone for sitting there at 2:00 AM wanting desperately for something to listen to, a podcast, a video, a movie, something, but not actively wanting anything? Rolling your eyes at the suggestions the algorithm puts before you yet again?

We live in what is most certainly a strange time - a crossroads, it feels like, where humanity could go any number of ways. which path are we on? will we succumb to the creeping Nihilism? Will we return to the moon, in a bid to expand into the cold and distant stars? Will we destroy ourselves? Will we starve ourselves out? Will we be destroyed by something else? I remember back when Nihilism seemed utterly anathema to me. I ran across the concept reading the Manga for Nausicaa - fascinating read, great story, amazing art, I would reccoment the five volume series to absolutely everyone, just for the philosophy alone - as I found the philosophy of nihilism to be counterproductive. If nothing matters, why do we do anything?

And yet, I find myself pondering the same questions. As we slowly poison our own world that brings our continued existence as a species into question, I ask myself, do we truly matter? Errant life on this swiftly spinning ball of rock that hurtles through the universe?

That, now, is the question that society is presenting itself. Do things matter? Do we matter as people?

I grew up in a small town of 500 people, in a valley that held roughly 1000 people between the three small towns that rested there. I remember back when my hometown took up a single square mile, nestled between dead and dusty hills littered with gypsum and junipers, sagebrush dotting the landscape, making any run an adventure as you tried to avoid twisting your ankle. Each stone, canyon, rock, and riverbed seemed to hold so much sheer potential, so many stories. I remember caressing the stones, and wishing that they could speak, imagining the kinds of movies I would film there If I could, telling stories endlessly to friends, to families, to my siblings. Finding hideouts, hearing stories of the German dugouts, the folklore, the lessons that the Navajo taught us to make sure that we didn’t Anger things best left un-angered. When night was a time dedicated to Coyote and his children, when the stars sang, and the Elk would seemingly appear from no-where? What happened to the magic of standing before a wall of pristine petroglyphs, and staring in awe, feeling the sheer weigh of power held in those drawings? feeling that If I could understand them I could command the very beasts that they represent, that they would dance off of the wall to sing songs long forgotten. It was a time and place for me where the Autumn crispness carried with it the chill bite of winter along the desert stones, and laughter filled the spaces between leaving and arriving- what happened to me since then?

When did I stop? why did I stop? When did the world start to lose its wonder for me? I still don’t know, but it feels like I lost something important, feels like I am left as a hollow husk now. Like I am left only with echoes of joy that existed in youth - echoes of hope and possibility for al life not yet lived. staring at the same pages, trying desperately to remember the stories we were told around the fire during campouts, stories told by old cowboys with wavering voices that shook us to our bones and filled us with wonder.

I remember the first time I saw Las Vegas. It was the largest city I had ever seen to date, and the sheer SCALE absolutely fried my mind. The sheer weight and mass of humanity pressed in on my mind, and I realized - each one of us is relatively meaningless. Consider: We hear the statistics for murders committed in the US daily - we don’t know their names. we never bother to learn their stories. We meet countless hundreds of people every day, every week, of our lives, so different from the place where I grew up, where you knew everyone in the county to some extent- at least by sight - and you knew their connections to each other, their stories. Now I meet people from entirely different countries, I meet people with entirely different beleifs. If the entire world were destroyed except for Vegas (obviously bad and likely to doom the species) there is enough genetic diversity within that population sample that provided the inhabitants didn’t tear each other apart, the resultant branch of humanity would be likewise stable and free of inbreeding, free to spread out.

Not going to happen, of course. A city built in the desert surviving thanks only to the great national and international infrastructure we have established will not be the city to survive the collapse of the United States, but still. The sheer MASS of people here, made me realize just how small I really was. Almost 8 billion people. One planet. 19 million living in some cities - that’s almost five times the population of the nation of Uruguay, las I checked ( Which was a while ago) and 4-5 times the population of Utah, where I grew up. Most of us, at the bottom of the heap, in countries that are now floundering under the weight of their new oligarchs.

I ask myself sometimes if we actually do matter- if our actions are worth taking. particularly in moments like this - in the dead of night, eyes burning, body aching, yet still unable to sleep - do we matter?

We certainly matter to the people we interact with. We change lives in many small ways. So far, that has kept me going - people encouraged by my work, by what I do, and so far- it has been enough.

The battle continues, the constant effort not to fall by the wayside, to claw ahead in a world of millions trying to do the same.

It will be an interesting decade.

#thoughts #blog #sleepless #nihlism #hope #despair #contemplation #quiet contemplation

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years

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𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘃𝗲

𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || Steve’s life takes a quantum leap when he finds you unconscious on the beach.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || ANGST (with a happy ending)

This is the second part of six feet under.

I know I broke your hearts, so here comes the second part to mend it! I hope you love this!

“You are my mission.”

Steve felt as if the walls of his heart were pricked by a thousand needles. It ached too much for him to bear. Unable to look in your eyes, he cried in his own palms.

The Asset wasn’t built to show emotions, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at the picture in front of you; your mission had just dropped down on his knees and was pathetically sobbing.

Why wasn’t your target fighting. You were informed that he was great at hand combat but not really outstanding with guns. So why wasn’t he attacking you as expected. Why was he showing you his back in surrender?

You were told what to do if the mission fought. But you weren’t informed what to do if he just... surrendered.

Walking close to your mission where he was crouching down, you stared at him for a moment. You weren’t wearing your combat gear, and neither was he. You both were instead dressed in far from modest clothes.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to harm him in any way. With the way he was trusting you, you could’ve killed him within seconds. But yet your heart somehow ached at his situation.

When he didn’t even look up, you nudged his thigh with your left foot. When your mission finally looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and he was incessantly crying.

“Fight me.” You said as he just stared at you. Your blank gaze terrified Steve more than any alien or villain ever had. You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to fight you. You weren’t able to attack him if he just gave up.

Steve blinked his eyes as he took in your words. Why weren’t you killing him? He had surrendered to you and yet you were just looking back at him instead of fighting. Why did you want him to fight you?

“No.” Steve had never thought love would be his weakness. Or maybe he had never truly realised it. Steve loved Bucky as a friend and had rained hell when his friend was in danger.

And here he had signed off his soul in your name. He would literally bring you the moon and stars if you asked to. And he would bare his throat for you to slash through. But he couldn’t possibly ever hurt you.

“I said fight me.” Steve Rogers, your mission was supposed to fight you. Not just sit down and take whatever you gave him. You didn’t know why you were angry at his lack of self preservation.

What happened next was within the blink of an eye. Steve’s arm shot up and curled around your wrist. And with a quick pull, he pulled your entire body down.

His agility took you by shock and before you could react, you were down on the ground pressed against the floor with him straddling you. Taking both of your hands in his, he pinned them above your head, making sure you were immobile.

You were royally fucked. Your handlers wouldn’t take it lightly if you messed up. And that was if you reached them in one piece. Chances were you were gonna die here, right under Steve Rogers.

You opened your mouth to bite and hiss and Steve took the opportunity and dove right in. You stilled with surprise when you felt the captain’s plump lips right against yours. This man was super insane.

You mercilessly but his lower lip and ended up drawing blood. But as soon as he started licking in your mouth with his tongue, you melted right on the spot.

The warmth of his mouth slowly brought back the warmth of your memories. Steve felt you go pliant under him for some moments before you started fiercely kissing him back.

You entwined your fingers with his and gently pressed your tongue against the bite mark on his lips. You didn’t notice the tears that slipped through your eyes and how they mixed with Steve’s own tears falling against your face.

“Steve.” You called his name just like you always did. With love and belonging. He opened his eyes to see you staring right back at him with your lively eyes.

Steve had never been happier before. Pressing his forehead against yours, he just breathed you in for a moment. “Steve.” Your hand was now caressing his face.

Your eyes peering into each other were enough to convey the million thoughts you had and the thousand things you wanted to say. Pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, he got up and you followed him.

You both sat on the floor with your legs crossed, you kept some space between you two. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Steve repeated as he broke down once again.

You hushed him and held him in your arms until he calmed down. “I shouldn’t have done that, but… but I wanted to know.” Steve couldn’t ever forget how your face had morphed into that of betrayal as he recited the words.

“But I want to know one thing. Do you love me? Or… or is it some tactic of hydra to ruin me?” You wanted to slap Steve for asking this stupid ass question. Of course you loved him!

But then you realised where he was emotionally. If you were in his position then maybe even you would fear the same. “It’s real Steve. It’s definitely real.”

You framed his face with your hands and caressed your thumb over his cheeks. “Steve, I love you. And by ‘I’, I mean Y/N and Soldat. My soul belongs to you, no matter it’s name.

How can you doubt our love when it was the only thing that brought me back?” It was true, you wouldn’t have remembered anything if Steve hadn’t kissed you.

You could see the colour fill in Steve’s face. He pulled you in a bear hug and held you tight. “I love you. I love you.” Steve chanted in your ear just like before.

Once you were both calm enough to think straight, you decided to go out on the beach. You sat in the sand with your head tilted on Steve’s shoulder as the sea breeze kissed your wet cheeks.

“I barely remember who I was before all this Steve. I can only remember glimpses of the shield and the avengers. I’m no more the Y/N you once saw.”

Steve was silent as he listened to each and every word of yours. He wanted to say so many things back, but he knew he had to listen to you first.

“But I remember how they took me Steve. It was probably my third official shield mission and we had all thought that base was not active. But when we broke in, the operatives were waiting just for us.

It was trap and we fell willingly into it. The others managed to escape, but… but I couldn’t. And they took me Steve. I… I waited for you people.

I still remember shivering in that cold cell all alone, praying for you to find me. But you never came. And with time I just kept forgetting until I couldn’t remember anymore.” Your voice cracked yet you kept going.

“Even after you retired, you still were hydra’s number one target. It’s almost personal now. It took them some time, but they finally traced you and they knew you were alone.

I was supposed to use a boat as long as I was out of visibility and then swim till the shore so that you wouldn’t notice me. But I miscalculated the current and the rocks on the shore.

After I abandoned my boat, I jumped into the water and got caught in the water currents. It was a terrifying experience, just spinning wildly underwater as the water took you.

But I was oddly at peace as I thought finally I would be free. But then I hit my head on the rocks and got washed up. And I woke up remembering absolutely nothing in your warm bed.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve couldn’t ever forgive himself for all that had happened to you. He was sure shield must have tried their best, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sure they must’ve tried.” You both sat quietly staring at the calm ocean which reflected the night sky.

“Do you still love me?” You asked with a dejected sigh. “I’ll always love you.” Steve replied pulling you closer. “Even after knowing who I am and what I was here for?”

“You could’ve easily completed your mission. I know you are capable enough of doing that. But, you did not. You couldn’t harm me even when I openly surrendered to you.

So yes, I still very much love you and I’ll stay by your side forever.” The last word pierced through your heart like a knife. You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Steve, I… I have to go.” Steve looked at you quizzically. “Where?” You gulped audibly before meekly replying, “Hydra.” You could feel his body tense.

“You aren’t going back there, no matter what.” You wanted to believe Steve’s words, but you knew that couldn’t happen.

“I’ve tried to run away. So many times. But they always find me. They’ll find me this time too. And if they find me, they’ll find you too and I can’t let that happen.

I won’t be able to live if something happened to you. I’ll never forgive myself. And that’s why I need to go.” If this sacrifice was going to keep Steve safe, then so be it.

“Nothing will happen to me. And if they come, we will fight them. Together. And nothing and no one can stop us if we are with each other. Stay with me, please!”

You kissed his cheek to stop him from pleading anymore. You couldn’t tolerate the man you loved begging you. “I’ll… I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

Steve hugged you so tight, you wondered if you broke some bones. But being in the arms of the man who loved you, felt better than heaven itself. It was a different kind of a feeling, one that no words could ever describe.

“Steve, what do you think about Paris? I’ve always wanted to go there.” You asked as you both sat silently on the beach, basking in each other’s presence.

“I’ve always thought about visiting Louvre too. But I never really got the chance.” Even as a sickly kid, Steve wanted to get mesmerised by the art in the famous museum.

“And what about Sydney? Or Amsterdam? Or Barcelona?” Your eyes lit up like an excited kid. “What about all of them?” Steve jested.

Steve wanted to travel the world too. In a sense he already had, but it was always for some mission and never for the sake of relaxation. “Yeah, we could do that!” You exclaimed as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you.

It would be a new beginning for both of you. A new life away from your tainted past. A fresh canvas to paint with the colours of your own choice. A much needed restart that both you and Steve needed.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s pack our bags!”

#did you like it?#marvel #steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #steve rogers one shot #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction

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everygildedstar · 3 years

Text

Bible Study (Optional Male Bias)

Summary: He wants to know what could be better than God’s love, and you are happy to enlighten him

Pairing: Optional Bias x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, religious corruption, blasphemy, hand jobs, blow jobs, riding, fem dom, male sub, loss of virginity, sex in a church, semi-public sex, quoting scripture during sex

A/N: It’s been a while since i wrote a smut so i’m rusty, so please be nice. Inspired by a discussion with @bigkpopstan and anon about religious corruption and Heeseung. Heeseung was in mind when I wrote this but it’s technically optional bias so have fun. ;)

“Meet me in the confession booth when everyone leaves for the barbeque,” you had messaged him.

There had been a certain tension between the two of you for a while. He knew you weren’t the innocent “Church Girl” you pretended to be, and you knew he was curious. Curious about what could be so great as to reject what you were taught at church. What could possibly be better than God’s love?

He had asked you as much one day, while you were waiting for your parents to stop socializing so you could go home.

“Because I like what I can understand,” you answered. “I like what makes me feel alive. I like what I can be certain of. And I am certain that there are a great number of things that are more pleasurable to me than church, and worshipping our so-called God while receiving nothing in return.”

“Like what?” he pushed.

“Maybe I could show you sometime,” you had said before walking out with your family.

He hadn’t brought it up to you again for a long time, but you could tell he thought about it. You could see it in his face every time you caught him looking at you, and every time he would look away blushing, as if he had been caught doing something sinful.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He asked you to show him. And that’s how, today, you ended up pulling him into the confession booth in the empty church.

You shut and locked the door behind you, and then there was silence. The tension was so thick, just the sound of your breaths to fill the space, only a small amount of light leaking into the tiny room.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked. “There is no going back. You will only be pretending to be the good church boy. You will be like me,” You reach out and hold his face in one hand and the nape of his neck with the other, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “a sinner.”

You feel him nod. “Use your words.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“And you are not scared?” you ask further.

“No. If it is truly a sin, and should I wish to repent, God is merciful. He will take me back,” he says.

You let out a breathy laugh. “And if you don’t wish to repent?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. “Then I suppose hell can’t be that bad if you’ll be there, my own beautiful temptress.”

You laughed again. “So much for the good little church boy.”

You leaned in and kissed him. It started out slow and sweet, and you tried to pour every ounce of passion and honey as you can into every movement. He seemed to follow your lead leaning into you so much you were leaning back with him. You bit his lip, and then took his gasp to press your tongue into his mouth. He moans a little, surprised at the intrusion and starts sucking on it.

You slowly move him back until his back hits the wall of the booth, pressing yourself close to his body. You tug his hair while your other hand starts to roam, slowly feeling its way past each dip in his defined chest and abdomen. You hook a finger in his belt loop and use it to pull his hips even further against you, forcing him to break the kiss and let out a moan. You move to kiss his neck, or at least the little bit you could reach with his unbuttoned collar. He moans again, and then again even louder when your hips forward. “What is your favorite scripture?” you ask. “Recite it for me, and don’t stop or I’ll stop.”

“What-” he asks as you unbutton his pants while you attack his neck with your mouth again. He gasps when you pull down his zipper, and then you reach your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, eventually grasping his cock with only the tips of your fingers. He lets out a needy groan, rolling his hips into your touch, but you don’t move any further.

“Recite it, or I’m not going to do anything.”

He takes a second to gather his thoughts enough. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not wa-want.” He stutters when you pull his waistband down and bring his cock out, hissing at the cold air. You give it one stroke, and then stop, waiting for him to continue.

“He maketh me to lie d-down in green pastures-” You start stroking him slowly, rubbing your thumb over his slit once to gather his pre-come. You continue kissing his neck until you find a sweet spot that makes him whimper.

“-he leadeth me be-beside the still waters.” You move faster, pumping lightly with each stroke, while you pull his hair with the hand still resting there.

“He restoreth my s-soul-” His grip on you tightens, hands grabbing fistfulls of the material of your church dress. “-he leadeth me in the p-paths of righteousness for his -ngh- name's sake.”

“Yea, though I wa-alk through the valley of the sha-hadow of death, I will f-fear no evil-” you move your kisses to the other side of his neck, and he throws his head back against the wood of the booth.

“-for thou art with m-me; thy rod and thy s-staff they co-co-comfort me- ” You then get on your knees in front of him, licking the tip of his cock, hand still stroking his length. “-Shit!”

You snicker, giving a long lick up the underside before looking up at him. “Don’t swear when you are reciting scripture, sinner.” -he moans at the nickname- “Keep going.”

He whines again before he continues, voice considerably higher.

“Th-thou preparest a ta-able before me in the pre-esence of mine enemies-” You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly. He lets out a guttural groan.

“-thou anointest m-my head with o-oil-” your hand that isn’t preoccupied with stroking the part of his cock that is not deep in your mouth is making its way under to cup his balls.

“-my cup ru-runneth over.” He muffles a whine with one hand while the other makes its way into your hair.

He pulls his hand away from his mouth to recite the next part. “Surely g-goodness and merc-cy shall follow me all the d-days of my life- ngh!” You are bobbing your mouth farther and farther each time, and he has to refrain from thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth.

“-and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Fuck, I’m so close-” He finishes his scripture, and you take him as far as you can and swallow, the squeezing of your throat around his cock almost sending him over the edge. You lift your mouth off of him with a pop, and he whines like a hurt puppy. “No- Please- Why?”

You stand back up and turn him, making sit on the seat to your left, before you push your skirt up around your hips and straddle him. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you have all the fun, did you?”

You grip his cock again, rubbing the tip over the wet spot on your panties. Both of you let out a moan together, pressing your foreheads together. His hands fly to your hips, gripping them tightly.

“Are you okay with this?” You ask again before you continue.

He nods, the thin ray of light peeking into the booth in a perfect spot to show the desire in his eyes. “Yes, please. Please let me feel you. I’m not turning back.” He kisses you again, short but passionately. “Ruin me.”

You whine at his words, then you pull your soaked panties to the side and line his cock up with your entrance before you sink down on him, ever so slowly. Deep, long moans come from both of you. You kiss him again when he is fully sheathed inside you.

“Would you like for me to recite my favorite scripture for you?” you ask him, foreheads together while you adjust to his large size. “It was from a woman to her lover, and I feel like it fits the situation nicely.”

He nods, interested. “Enlighten me.”

“My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.” You start to move agonizingly slowly up and down his length. He buries his face in your neck to muffle his noises and grips your hips even harder, and you were sure you would have bruises in the shape of his hands the next day.

“His head is as the most fine gold; his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.” You tangle your hands into his own hair and he attaches his lips to the side of your neck like you had done to him.

“His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.” You start to move faster, rolling your hips with each thrust.

“His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers; his lips like lilies, dropping sweet-smelling myrrh.” You feel his hips stutter as he struggles to keep from thrusting up into you.

“His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl-” He loses the fight, and starts jerking his hips up as you sink down, causing him to go way deeper, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan. “-his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.”

“His legs are as pillars of marble set upon sockets of fine gold; his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.” You take one of his hands from your hips and press it between you against your clit, ripping a whine out of you.

“His mouth is most sweet-“ you move impossibly faster, even with your thighs growing tired. Your combined sounds and heavy breaths resonate within the confined box.

“I’m close- is it ok if I…” He asked. You nod pulling him close, lips hovering only a hair away from his.

“-yea, he is altogether lovely.” You kiss him deeply as you reach your high, hands harshly pulling his hair and gripping his shoulder. The squeezing from your release sent him over the edge, and he pulled your hips flush to his, coating your insides.

As you come down from your orgasms, you finish the scripture. “This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.”

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, catching your breaths.

“Holy shit-” he says, and you let out a breathy laugh as you pull off of him, both of you wincing at the sensitivity. “I see why you do this now.”

“Are you gonna regret this and never talk to me again?” You ask, standing up and fixing yourself up.

“Hell no.” He puts himself away and zips and buttons his pants. You feel his hands rest on your hips, and you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss.

“What do we tell our parents if they ask where we’ve been?”

“Tell them we were doing private bible study and shared our favorite verses. And maybe ask if we can see each other more often for “bible study” sessions,” you added before stealing another kiss.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “That’s the only kind of bible study I’ll need from now on. If god is real and merciful, he can forgive me when the day comes. I have the only god I want to believe in right here in my arms.”

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forthehpfanboys · 3 years

Text

Three is a Crowd

Pair: Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black; he/him.

Summary: Sirius, you and Remus weren't scared to hide your relationship, but when it came to more.. Private matters, they obviously preferred keeping it personal. Plus, who doesn't love teasing Remus?

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), dirty talk, poly relationship, Wolfstar (but is that even a warning?), hair pulling, short mention of daddy. use of a collar at the end. If I missed any, please dm me.

Notes: Me, knowing damn well I have a busy life, but takes every request I get because I can’t say no. Oh, and the gif by me using other people's gifs- Might make a part two. Top Remus tho.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

It wasn’t hard to catch the boy's attention. James and Lily loved to joke that they were wrapped around your finger, which they were. All you had to do was sway your hips a little bit or bend over right or just lick your lips innocently. They really were, they weren't afraid to admit it and of course you used it to your advantage, but you still love them. That always came first.

Sirius and Remus had fallen head over heels for you during their time during Hogwarts. Both could pinpoint it exactly. The two men were already an item when you showed up at the school- a transfer student. You were introduced to them by Lily, something about you being a distant cousin of hers and you quickly became a new founded Marauder.

Remus fell for you first. It was around the time they were all studying to become animagus and he discovered you were bloody brilliant! After months of struggling with the stupid ritual, you were the final piece they needed to figure it all out. And you didn’t judge him over something he couldn’t control, so that was a bonus to him, of course. But how could you judge him for his lycanthropy? Almost everyone in the wizarding world hated him for this one simple thing,

Meanwhile, Sirius’ was a lot more simple. He noticed you by your slick comebacks. Like holy Merlin’s beard- Sirius was convinced your words could cause someone to physically combust. He’d never seen that happen, but he has seen you make 8th years cry. He’s also a hundred percent certain you have a thesaurus lying under your pillow. He didn’t know the word ‘imbecile’ had so many synonyms. And you helped him help his best friend so of course he fell in love with you.

So, when you fell for them, a natural love for being between both boys formed. This random craving would kick in whenever you were around the two of them. Whether it was you three walking to the next class or sitting in the Gryffindor common room, you just had to be between them. It was quite literally your favorite place on this planet. But there were rules- of course there were.

One of the main rules was no teasing in front of friends. Believe it or not, James had a limit on how much sexual tension he could sit through in one lunch period, so he enforced the rule, which was.. Unusual to say the least. Usually Remus created the rules to keep you and Sirius in check. He had a switch and a sub under his belt and it could be a struggle, especially when they were bratty and they’d team up against him.

Which is exactly what you two had been doing all day; harassing poor Moony despite whoever was near. During potions, Sirius had palmed Remus while you playfully whispered in the werewolf’s ear, calling him daddy and asking for help with your most innocent voice. Watching your boyfriend squirm and slap Sirius’ hand away was genuinely humorous. It became down right funny when he threatened to punish both of you by not talking to you, but you both knew he’d do more than that. Knowing Remus would drag you both by your ties to the dorm room and straight up ruin you two, you both eased off him, letting him continue his notes in peace, but once potions were over, the teasing immediately continued.

Soon enough, classes were over and the three of you were walking back to the dorms. It was easy to see Remus was sick of your shit, so while he led you to his prefect room, you and Sirius were looking at each other. Sirius shrugged, looking as laid back as he felt, but you were a tad more nervous. Sometimes Remus could be downright mean.

“You two are insufferable!” Remus hollered, his hand rubbing his temple as he shoved open his door. “I know you love my reactions, guys, but seriously? Was grabbing my ass over my robe necessary?” He had his arms crossed over his chest and turned around to glare at you and Sirius.

“You know it was, baby.” Sirius winked while shutting the door behind him. He walked around you, dragging a hand across your lower back before diving onto Remus’ bed. He laid on his back, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his head. Your eyes shamelessly dragged across the sliver of pelvic bone peaking out under his white collared shirt.

“I thought it was a bit much.” You shrugged, looking over to Moony’s glowing eyes. A smirk grew across your lips when he pointed at you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Being a kiss ass does not mean you’re free, mister. You’re in just as much trouble as that one.” His point moved to the man laying on the bed, who clearly couldn’t care less. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. He even smacked Sirius’ hand away when it gripped his hip. “Down, boy.”

“Ouchies! My pride.” Sirius mocked your voice and rubbed his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. His dark eyes flicked over to you, his smirk growing as he nodded his head in the direction of Remus’ back.

“Good. I’m mad at you.” The werewolf ducked his head down before running a hand through his hair, making the curly locks messier than usual. He beckoned you over with two curling fingers and waited patiently for you to stand in front of him. Once you were in arms reach, he cupped both of your cheeks in each hand and smiled at you, bringing your face closer to his. “What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips.

“I’m not sure, but I know Sirius technically did more damage than I did. I’m your bestest boy.” You grinned, grabbing his wrists and kissing a palm. Your grin turned into a side smirk when Sirius let out a weak ‘hey!’ behind your brunette boyfriend.

Suddenly, Remus’ arms were twisting around your waist and he was falling backwards onto the bed, taking you down with him. You let out a yelp while colliding with your soft boyfriend's chest.

“I think I know what I’m going to do with you.” Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ tummy, allowing the animagus to run his fingers through soft hazel nut locks, which Remus easily ignored. Meanwhile, Lupin was cheekily slipping his hand under your shirt. His calloused palms glided across your skin, rubbing your hip gently before moving up to your belly. “I’m going to ignore the little bastard behind me and I’m going to focus on you, pretty boy.”

“Hey! (Y/n) messed with you too, Rem! You’re being unfair!” Sirius sat up a little, bracing his body weight on his elbows as he glared down at his freckle covered partner. His jaw dropped when Remus flicked his nose before skillfully tugging your shirt over your head. “Un-fuckin’-believable.” Sirius grumbled, laying back on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your smart mouth is why I’m ignoring you.” Remus spoke nonchalantly, one hand slipped into your back pocket, gave your butt a tight squeeze, while the other steadily began climbing toward your chest. His hand in your pocket held your hips down while his hips grinded up into yours. His eyes darkened at the needy whine that left your lips when his rough thumb pad ran over one of your nipple.

See, Remus always enjoyed seeing you react to him. He could write down all of it. He could fill enough books with his favorite things about you to cause an empty Hogwarts library to overflow. How your eyes would roll back into your skull, how your jaw would go slack with need and how your breath catches in the middle of your throat, leaving you breathless, how you’d moan his name. He loved wrecking you, utterly destroying you.

His scar covered hand moved up to your hip, getting a steadier grip so he could really raise his hips and roll them against yours. The hand on his chest delicately rolled a nipple between the thumb and forefinger. He thought you were a piece of art, painted just for him. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Remus was quickly becoming the only coherent thought in your head. You could smell his perfume and it was only fogging up your head worse than his touch. You let out a moan, your eyelids drooping a tad.

"You like that, baby?" he whispered into your open mouth, kissing the corner before sliding his lips down to the corner of your jaw. He licked a fat, flat line across the point, running up to your earlobe before sucking on it.

The werewolf grinded up into you harder, a growl emitting from his throat that would scare even the toughest of creatures. He let out a loud, breathy loan when you nodded and copied his hip movements.

"Of course you do. You're not a brat or a whiney bitch- you're perfect."

Suddenly, Sirius was sitting up and Remus was going silent, almost frozen in his place. Both were listening quite intently over your heavy breathing when loud, stomping footprints made themselves known. Sirius watched in amusement while Remus threw you on to the empty bed space next to him and magicked a blanket over the both of you.

James was pushing open the door about as loudly and hazardously as his footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and collided with his still outstretched arm. You sat up, slowly coming back from the pleasure filled bliss, and slowly becoming more and more pissed you just got cock-blocked by one of your more oblivious friends.

“James, sorry, mate, we’re in the mi-” Sirius was rudely cut off by the messy haired idiot. Spit flew from James’ mouth as he spoke aggressively, his hand waving around as he spoke.

"Can you believe him?!" the Seeker hollered, acting as if his friends, best friends knew immediately what he was talking about. He strode into the middle of the room, pacing in front of the polygamous couple, clearly pissed. It didn't take long for Peter to follow in after, either.

"No, Prongs, you're not exactly telling us anything." Remus spoke up, acting as if he totally wasn't just grinding against you. He was good at keeping his voice level and that it had you confused.

"Little Sour Grape Snape thinks he can try to push that whole fiasco on me like I meant for it to happen?" James yelled out again, almost completely ignoring Remus. Peter sat on the bed across from the trio, his eyes glued to James as he paced. You looked at Sirius, who turned to you, and shrugged, scooting to sit right next to Remus.

"Wanna share what's goin' on, Pete?" Sirius asked, finally scooting to be face to face with the soft boy, and sitting on the other side of Remus. His hand landed on Remus' thigh, gently rubbing over the blanket.

The chubby boy played with his fingers, his mouth opening quickly to tell the tale of Snape and his stupid complaining and blood status shit. However, Remus, nor you, could focus because Sirius’ hand was moving under the blanket and going straight between Remus’ legs.

The sun was setting behind the vast forest, effectively blocking natural light, leaving the room slightly colder and darker than before. Sirius knew it was hard to see what was going on under the blanket, so all carefulness got thrown out the window.

Sirius' hand slid between Remus' thighs, using a hand to hide his smirk. He nodded his head along, as if he was really listening and invested in the story. You turned to Sirius, following his arm and the lump under the blanket and got the idea- and it only became reinforced when Sirius gave you a dramatic wink.

Your own hand slid under the blanket, landing on your werewolf boyfriend's knee, you thumb caressing it gently. Your hand didn’t stay there long. You began to move it up, moving slowly, just inch by inch, stopping suddenly when Remus’ hand clamped around your wrist.

“Boys, stop it.” Remus growled out, but it seemed more directed to Sirius. You were worried for a second that James or Peter heard, but when they kept going on and on, delving deeper and deeper into the story, you realized they were absolutely clueless. You decided to test the waters, slowly running your hand down and then back up, a tad higher, but Moony left his hand on your wrist.

“I said, cut it out. Now.” The brunette’s voice was deep enough to cause a shudder to go down your spine and it went straight to your dick. You jumped when his hand landed on your thigh, giving you a warning squeeze that you once again ignored and moved your hand closer to the inside of his thigh.

You felt fingers run over yours at the top of his thigh and suddenly Remus’ thigh muscles were tightening. Padfoot had run his fingers over his hard-on. You knew you were both pushing it, but you kept going. You heard the brunette groan into his hand, his eyelids fluttering for a second before his gaze hardened and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. You could hear the low growl emitting from this throat.

So while James and Peter told their elaborate and stupidly long story, you both teased your partner, enjoying how he tried to sit still and refused to even look at you two. Remus’ jaw was pulled tight, his eyes darker than the night, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Eventually, it came to an end, and the two left, James complaining loudly that no one cared like he did and suddenly the blanket was thrown across the room.

Remus stood up, giving you a glare that you couldn’t help but find hot as hell. You always loved riling him up, but you also loved managing to wiggle out of punishments. Sirius always bitched about you getting away nearly scot free, but you’d just blow raspberries at him. It was funny, honestly, not that you were laughing now. It was clear both of you took it too far.

“You two are in a whole heap of fucking trouble. I can not believe you today, especially you. You’re such a bad influence on my baby.” Remus pointed at Sirius, his brows drawn tight together in pure anger. His eyes were lit up like with fire and the veins on his neck were protruding from underneath the skin in the sexiest way. The simple feature had you clenching your thighs, hoping to release some tension or get a touch or something.

“Our baby. Besides, you’re overreacting Rem.” Sirius shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He blew a stand of hair out of his face, acting like everything was fine and dandy while his boyfriend had steam blowing out of his ears.

His simple sentence caused the brunette’s eye to twitch and you knew he had dug himself a bigger whole. You put your hands in your lap like a good boy and sat, watching the two argue, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

“Oh. I’m overreacting, huh? Do you wanna say that again?” His tone was so flat, almost like he was talking to an idiotic teenager who did exactly what he was told not to do, the messy haired animagus was sitting up quickly, realizing he fucked up- again.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant, baby, you’re getting my words twisted. I meant it’s my fault and that you might be getting a tad carried away. Please don’t be mad at me.” Sirius put on his most dazzling smile and softest voice. He was trying to do what you did so well and wiggle his way out of punishments. “Have I ever mentioned how hot you look when you're mad?”

It was funny, really, how Sirius was saying exactly what you were thinking.

“No, dove, I’m not mad at you.” Remus threaded his hand slowly through Sirius' wavy hair, a small, sweet smile spread across his cheeks. Sirius let out a sigh, a huge grin matching his boyfriends, his eyes sparkling with pure joy in the dim light.

"I'm glad you're so understanding, honey bunches. I love you so, so, so much." Sirius spoke, leaning forward, lips puckered to plant a kiss to the brunettes. You really thought he had known Moony better. Moony very, very rarely let either of you off the hook for something like this.

However, Remus didn't let him move very far. His fingers latched onto the hair at the top of Sirius' head and ripped it back, causing his neck to bend backward and a whorish moan escaped his lips. Siri’s hands shot up to grip the one tugging his head back and he had to strain his eyes to look at his Moony.

"I’m fucking livid, Sirius. You're such a slut. Surely you know me better than that. Have I ever let you get away with behavior like that?” Remus waited for an answer. He wasn’t very patient though, because soon, he was pulling on the long locks again. “Well?”

“No.” Sirius groaned out. He seemed grumpy he couldn’t cute his way out of this like he was sure you could. You figured you could probably avoid the punishment by sneaking out, knowing Remus wouldn’t send a search party after you. And if you made a good enough excuse, he’d let you go with a harsh spanking and the promise of no orgasms for the day, which didn’t seem too terrible.

“Do I have to treat you like a slut?" his lips pressed against a pulse point but didn't place a single kiss to Sirius' lips. "Maybe I should put a muzzle on your filthy mouth and tie you up. Put you in the closet while I fuck our dearest silly, hmm?"

Remus pulled away, this time tugging Sirius' eyes level with his. The werewolf let out a snicker, enjoying the way tears of pain had gathered in his boyfriends eyeline.

"I should teach you who's in charge. What do you say pumpkin?" Remus turned to the spot where you were seated and noticed it was empty. "Pumpkin?" He turned around and saw you trying to sneak out of the dorms door.

He reached into his pocket, tsking all the while casting a spell that caused a collar to appear around your neck with a pop. You let out a squeak, your heads going to the new leather.

"Do I have to put both of you in your place?” Remus pushed Sirius away and walked swiftly over to you, grabbing the d ring on the front of your collar. He gave it a tug, effectively keeping your eyes on his. “You’re not being my good boy, are you?”

“No..” Unlike Sirius, you answered quickly. You looked up at Remus, eyes wide, owlish and feigning innocence. “But I-”

“Quiet. You’re usually so good for me, darling. I bet you picked up the disrespect from our boyfriend, didn’t you? I’m gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you.” He tugged on the d-ring, dragging you with him as he walked back over to the bed. “Sirius, against the headboard.”

Without hesitation, the niorette shuffled toward the headboard, resting his back against it. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut. With the new space made, Remus pushed you forward and laughed when your hands came out in front of you to catch your fall, but slipped on the silk bedspread. Your chest collided with the plush mattress, a pained cry leaving your lips when your knees collided with the wooden floor.

“Owie, Rem!” You turned to look back at him, but he grabbed your hair and forced your cheek against the mattress. You looked back at him, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment and you tried to pout your way out of this, like usual.

“Shut up, bunny. Daddy’s not going easy on you this time, so be a good boy and take what I fucking give you.”

#sirius black x male reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #remus lupin x male reader #Remus Lupin imagine #remus lupin #sirius black x male reader x remus lupin #hp imagine #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #james potter #male reader #x male reader #Ronny Writes #hp marauders #marauders x male reader #marauders imagine #marauders smut #wolfstar x male reader

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 3 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Here’s chapter 3! I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Succession Chapter 3

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: PG-13 for language and possible kidnapping trigger warning (this is a slow burn, but it will get sexy and spicy later on)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary. While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter 3

“Stop squirming!” Heisenberg growled as you kicked your legs and bucked your body. Uttering a curse under his breath, he slung his hammer to the ground, whirled your body to face him, and threw you over his shoulder, picking up the hammer and dragging it in the snow.

You did not know where he was taking you. It felt as if he had been carrying you for a good fifteen minutes. The scenery going by was the same as what was at the crash site: nothing but snow and dead trees. You pushed your hands to his back and tried to look around desperately for another person to call for help. Unable to find any source of assistance, you did the only thing you could...kick your legs and beat your fists against his back.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” Heisenberg laughed, his grip on your legs tightening. His voice held such confidence and self-assurance that you wanted to slap the fuck out of him.

You looked down to the ground and noticed that the snow and dirt gave way to cobblestones. Looking around, you saw that he was walking across a bridge. To your left were mountains with a cascading waterfall. The wind caught sprays of mist and you felt the ice cold stinging your face.

“Home sweet home, pussycat!” Heisenberg bellowed. You heard the opening of a gate as you tried to turn around to see where he was taking you.

“Put me down!” you shrieked, swinging your leg forward and kicking him square in the stomach. A loud oomph rushed from his mouth and he lurched forward, dropping you forcefully on your ass. Pain shot up your body. You squirmed and cursed as you grabbed your butt, rubbing the pained area.

“Come on,” Heisenberg said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, “you can’t just lie on the ground all day!”

You tried to dig your heels into the ground to stop him when you looked up and saw the building before you. A bleak factory with tall smoke stacks stood like a monstrosity with the snowy mountains in the background. An array of scrap metal littered the grounds around the building. Heisenberg pulled you towards a pair of sliding doors in the front.

Despite the fact that you and Heisenberg had yet to reach the building, the doors opened on their own. The distant sounds of chains and metal could be heard deep inside of the factory and you wondered if there were others working. Maybe someone would feel sympathy towards you and help you escape or call for help. He pulled you over the threshold and into his factory.

With a sudden quickness, you jerked away from his grasp and tried to make a break for the doors. They swiftly shut and trapped you inside. You looked around wildly as Heisenberg laughed before you, knowing that you were stuck. Not one to give up so easily, you spotted stairs going down to the lower level and you ran towards them.

“Ugh...I don’t have time for this shit!!” you heard Heisenberg yell behind you, but you were already halfway down the stairs and rushing to get as much distance between you and him as you could.

Your adrenaline was pumping as you turned a corner and ran down a dark hallway. You couldn’t hear the man behind you, which had you hoping that you were able to hide from him and come out once the coast was clear.

The steel stairs and walkways were a labyrinth as you looked for an open door that led to an empty room. There had to be someone in this place that you could convince to help you. Hell, you were so close to becoming three million dollars richer...if they helped you, you could reward them handsomely. But not before having this psychopath Heisenberg brought up on kidnapping charges.

“Pussycat…” you heard in a sing-song voice coming around the corner, “...please come out and play…”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you ran down the hallway towards a door. You opened the door and before you stood a metal walkway suspended in the air. It went on for several feet before stopping at another closed door. Slowly shutting the door behind you, you turned and started running across, your hands on the railings.

Movement along with the sounds of cogs turning and chains rattling brought your attention to your left. Your feet came to a halt and your eyes widened.

Were those...bodies?

Lifeless bodies were hanging from a large metal wheel, turning around and around. More bodies hung suspended from hooks as they moved along on an assembly line...lines that went up and down, right and left. There had to be hundreds of bodies in this place.

“Jesus Christ!” you murmured, your hands gripping the railing.

“How do you like my army?”

Your head whipped around to find Heisenberg slamming the door shut behind him, slowly making his way towards you. “Ah, yes...hundreds of men...waiting to become unbeatable, glorious works of art…”

“What the fuck is this place??” you spat at him, walking backwards.

Heisenberg looked at the bodies, his gloved hand sliding across the railing as he walked closer to you. “You have no idea where you are, darling…” he responded, turning his attention to you, “...this place...well, perhaps death would have been better for you…”

“Stay away from me,” you muttered, turning around and running as fast as you could towards the door on the other side of the walkway. You could hear the steady stomp of Heisenberg’s boots as he got closer and closer. Gripping the door handle, you pulled as hard as you could, but the door did not budge. You cursed and yelled, pulling and turning the handle.

Heisenberg’s arms went around your body and pulled you away from the door. You kicked and screamed, struggling to get away.

“You are becoming quite a pain in my ass!” Heisenberg bellowed, pulling you back across the walkway, “should I have left you shivering in the snow, fresh meat for the lycans?”

“Let go of me!!” you screamed. The two of you were back at the first door as he hauled you against his side, grunting as he carried you down a different corridor. Your fingers tried to grip at his arm, pulling at his trenchcoat. You swung your arms up towards his head, but he was quick to dodge your limbs.

He came up to a door and kicked it open, slinging your body inside. You fell to the floor and rolled into the room. “Sit tight, doll face,” Heisenberg grinned, “I’ll check in on you soon…” And before you could get to your feet and run towards him, he closed and locked the door.

“Let me out!” you screamed as you banged your fists on the door. You were met with silence and with a huff, you turned around. The room wasn’t large. A cot was against the wall. There was a stall on the other side with a toilet. Two metal chairs sat side by side against the wall to your left. To your right was a metal sink. You went to the sink and turned on the water. Upon close inspection, it seemed clear and clean. Leaning down, you gulped mouthfuls of water. You didn’t realize until that moment just how thirsty you were.

You stood and gasped for air. What the fuck is going on, you thought to yourself. Your plane crashed, you were chased by werewolf-like men and a mutant hunchback, and now you were locked away in a factory by some hammer wielding psychopath. Would you ever be able to escape? If anyone located the crash and saw that there were no survivors, would they just suspect that you were one of those dead and not come looking for you?

For the first time since the crash, you allowed the weight of the world to flow over you. And as you laid down on the cot, you finally allowed yourself to break down into quiet sobs.

The sudden opening of the metal door woke you and made you sit up straight on the cot. Your heartbeat instantly accelerated as you looked and saw Heisenberg standing in the doorway with a tray of food in his hand.

“Rise and shine, darling!” Heisenberg greeted in a jovial tone. He walked over to the sink and rested the tray across it, turning his attention away from you. Standing from the cot, you watched as he took the empty glass from the tray and filled it with water from the tap.

Without thinking, you made a break for the open door. Your focus was on escape and you didn’t notice when Heisenberg’s left hand made a twisting motion, the cot flipping onto its side, and swinging around the room, sliding between you and the door. You yelped and halted your retreat so as not to run straight into the bed. Your eyes flew between the cot and Heisenberg, not able to believe what you just saw.

“Don’t you think for one second you can stop running and just sit the fuck down?!” he growled as he turned to face you, “here I am, bringing you food, making sure you are well taken care of, and you can’t rest for two seconds!!”

“How did you do that??” you asked. Heisenberg shut the door and uprighted the cot, pulling it back to where it was.

“Magic,” he muttered under his breath, “seriously...Y/N, is it? I’m sure you’re starving. Just sit and eat something…” He picked up the tray and placed it on the cot, patting the mattress beside it. He walked past you towards one of the chairs and sat down. You moved in time with him, moving closer to the food...but only in order to keep space between the two of you.

The smell of the stew hit your nostrils and your stomach growled loudly. It did smell nice and you had to admit that you were incredibly hungry. You begrudgingly moved to the bed, sat down, and brought the tray to your lap. You picked up the spoon and dug in.

As you ate, your eyes moved from the bowl of stew to Heisenberg and back again. You watched as he reached into the inner pocket of his trenchcoat, pulled out a cigar, and lit it with a lighter he took from another pocket in the coat. He puffed on the cigar, leaning his head back and expelling a cloud of smoke up in the air. The aroma wafted through the room.

You didn’t say anything, but you always thought the smell of cigar smoke was intoxicating.

Heisenberg rested his arm across the other chair next to him and lifted his leg, putting his foot to rest on the opposite knee. His eyes never left yours.

As you ate quietly, you took in your captor. His boots, his clothing, the hat, and the sunglasses. Gloves covered his hands. His hair was long, coming to rest at chin level. His short beard was the same shade as his hair, brown with hints of gray peppered in between. If he hadn’t kidnapped you from the wreckage of the plane, you might have found him attractive.

Once you finished eating, you placed the tray on the cot next to you and finished your glass of water.

“How was it?” Heisenberg asked, motioning to the tray with his cigar.

“Good…” you mumbled, “...why am I here? And how did you move this cot?? What the fuck is going on??”

Heisenberg puffed on his cigar again before standing from the chair and walking towards you. “All will be revealed in due time.” He took your arm in his free hand and pulled you from the bed and towards the door.

“Now where are we going?!?!” you asked, feelings of fear, dread, and disbelief surging through you once again.

“You have proven you can’t be trusted on your own,” Heisenberg said, “you’re staying in my living quarters with me…”

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #house heisenberg #heisenberg

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

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Flowers 4+1// ashton irwin oneshot

A/N: this is my first ever 4+1 fic so I’m kind of nervous, thank you Angie @littledrummerangie for the idea! This is also SUPER indulgent as being a birthday fic for me and a birthday fic with Ashton😅 since mine is the day before his. This has everything I love in it, flowers, hot tubs, a cabin, christmas, love… This is 4 times Ashton gives you flowers and 1 time you give him flowers

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

Enjoy!💕

*****

One

The first time they met was when Andy and Sarah invited Ashton to help her move into her new place. The movers basically set all the boxes and furniture into her house and then left her to her own devices. She called Andy and Sarah for help and if they had any reinforcements it would be greatly appreciated.

She was trying to find wine glasses when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it she had to look up at her guest. His copper brown hair fell in waves and necklaces hung perfectly down his neck, his hazel eyes were bright and friendly.

First, she noticed how good looking he is and the second thing she noticed was the mason jar filled with orange and peach flowers.

“Uh, hi can I help you?” she asks suddenly feeling very self-conscious of her ratty t-shirt and paint splotched shorts.

“I’m Ashton and I’m your honorary mover,” he smiles. “Andy called me. You must be Y/N.”

“Must be. I mean--yes, I am! And oh, right, wow. Sorry, please come in and thank you for helping,” she says, moving aside to let him in.

“Yeah, of course. These are for you,” he holds out the mason jar. “A housewarming gift.”

“Thank you so much,” she smiles, taking the flowers with both hands. Their fingers brush. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really?” his eyes bore into hers and she’s momentarily frazzled.

“Apart from my mom or grandpa but...um, I’ll put these in the kitchen. Andy’s in the bedroom putting the bed together if you’d like to help in there.”

She escapes into the kitchen where Sarah is wiping down the fridge.

“Who was at the door? What pretty flowers!”

“Your friend Ashton and he gave me these,” you touch one of the roses before burying your nose in the plumage. The petals tickle your nose and the scent is wonderful.

“He’s sweet like that,” Sarah smiles. “Did you find the glasses?”

“No,” Y/N huffs, setting the flowers on the counter by the sink. “They’re probably in the bathroom or something.”

“We’ll find them.”

The four of them continue working on unpacking and it isn’t until about 10 o’clock when Andy and Ashton enter the living room.

“The bed, vanity, and dressers are all assembled,” Andy announces wiping at his brow.

“We’re the poor man's Avengers,” Ashton laughs. “We put the bed in the middle of the wall and the vanity next to the window. Best lighting to do make-up.”

“That’s...perfect actually, thank you guys,” Y/N smiles, balling up the newspaper and shoving it in a large garbage bag. She just finished placing her books on the shelves, she’ll sort them later in the week.

“We were thinking of getting pizza,” Andy says.

“Pizza sounds great! Here, I’ll give you some money--”

“No, my treat,” Ashton says, “you’ve been working hard.”

After eating pizza they all went back to unpacking and Ashton made comments about the art pieces she has. He asks where she wants each one hung up.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll put them up later,” she waves her hand at him.

“It’s my job as honorary mover,” he grins.

Midnight came upon them sooner than she would like. Andy and Sarah headed out because of Pebbles, she’s been cooped up all day so it was just Ashton and Y/N. He asked questions while unpacking to get to know her better and he was very open to her questions.

He stayed until 3 in the morning but he made sure to get her number before he left. She took a photo of the flowers on the counter before going to bed.

Two

She changed her outfit about a dozen times. Her bed was covered in discarded clothes and she still had to put on her makeup. The clock on her wall ticked reminding her that Ashton would be here in a little less than an hour.

It’s been six months since he helped her move in and in that time, they became close. He showed her all of the best coffee shops and bookstores he knew of. He introduced her to the rest of his band and they accepted her kindly.

She accompanied them on outings, parties, and Ashton always made sure to stick close with her. He knew she was shy around new people so he always made sure to include her in conversation.

One night when he was walking her back to her door after going to dinner with the band and their significant others, he was acting strange. He was unusually quiet and she’d find him staring at her across the table.

“So, I’ll see you Monday, right?” she asked, shuffling through her purse for her house key.

“How about Saturday?”

“This Saturday? I thought we were going to try that new restaurant Monday with Andy and Sarah?”

“I mean, we can do that, too but I was thinking...Saturday could just be us. You and me.”

The air changed between them and she stopped looking for her keys. She turned to face him but she couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Oh, okay. Did you want to watch that new movie on Netflix?”

“Y/N, I’m trying to ask you on a date here,” he laughed nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ask me on a...you are? Oh God, and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“You could never ruin anything,” he smiled. “But, would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” his hazel eyes were hopeful and Y/N couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“I’d love to Ash,” she smiled.

And now here she is, half naked and indecisive on what to wear. She shouldn’t be freaking out like this, it’s Ashton. But it’s also *Ashton. Ashton who can always make her laugh and he makes her feel safe and they always have fun together. But it’s also Ashton who gives her butterflies whenever he touches her lower back and her heart race when he gives her a hug.

Her phone buzzes and it’s Ashton letting her know he’ll be there in forty-five minutes. She lets out a loud groan and goes back to her closet, maybe a new article of clothing she’s never seen will just reappear.

To her astonishment, there was a maroon dress that she wore to a wedding.

“Might as well,” she sighs and puts it on. It really doesn’t look half bad as she looks at herself in the mirror.

She rushes to put on her makeup and by the time she spritzes on her perfume, the doorbell rings. She checks that she has everything in her clutch and moves to the door.

It’s like a deja vu moment from six months ago because he’s handsome as ever and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His necklaces are perched perfectly in the V of his white button up shirt and it contrasts nicely with his skin. These flowers are full of pink and white flowers with a hint of peach thrown in there. The ivory paper crinkles when his fingers squeeze it, his eyes widen at the sight of her.

“Wow, you look...wow.”

“You’re pretty wow yourself,” she giggles then glances at the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Um, yes,” he holds his hand out, the flowers bumping your chest. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she laughs, taking them from him and buries her face in the center of it. “They smell wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

He follows her into the house, she doesn’t see him glance down at her ass in the dress. He’s rubbing his neck again when she looks at him getting a vase from the counter. She fills it with water and arranges the flowers.

“So, where are we going?”

They’re sitting outside the restaurant, it’s a warm breezy summer night. The rustic atmosphere feels comfortable but when she flicks her gaze at Ashton over the drink menu, he’s drinking his glass of water heartily. His other hand is tapping against the table, it’s a thing he does when he’s nervous.

“Thirsty, huh?” She tries to ease his unusual activity and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, throat’s a little dry,” he clears his throat just as the waitress comes by.

She takes their drink order and Ashton requests a pitcher of water if it’s available. Their roles are reversed, she’s the one doing most of the talking and he’s the one who’s listening. She can tell he’s still being reserved so she takes out her phone and points it at him.

“Smiiile!” She sings turning on portrait mode.

“Why?” He laughs nervously but it makes him smile so she snaps the photo.

“Because, the lighting is perfect and you look cute,” she flirts with a smile.

Ashton laughs again but it’s his real laugh, the laugh that always gets her laughing. She snaps as many photos as she can and it seems to have done the job of making him act like himself. Even though they’ve hung out nearly everyday, the evening still had the air of a first date.

They even tried each other’s food. She stabbed her chicken and noodle with her fork, blew on it, and fed it to him across the table.

“Wow, that is really good,” he hums in approval. He swirls his own noodles on his fork and feeds her slowly.

“That sauce is amazing,” she moans, loving the lemon flavor.

They share a dessert of chocolate mousse and split the strawberry. After dinner, he took her to the art museum. They're open later in the summertime. There were only a few people meandering in the open space and standing stagnant in front of pieces.

“This is why I wanted to bring you here,” he says, taking her hand easily in his own.

Her butterflies returned and he lead her all the way to the back. It was a Claude Monet exhibit and she tried to look at the paintings but Ashton was on a mission to a certain piece. He stops in front of it and she stares in amazement at the painting. It’s of Claude Monet on his boat. She gasps, staring at it and Ashton is staring at her.

It’s the painting she tried to replicate when she was younger in her art class. It’s the painting that introduced her to Monet because the style was similar and it always stuck with her. She told him she wanted to find the painting when they first met and stayed up until 3 in the morning.

“You remembered this?” she asks, stepping closer to it. She makes sure their hands are still locked together, his thumb is rubbing her skin in soothing circles.

“Your eyes always light up when you talk about things that matter to you. They’re always so bright when you talk about him...and when I give you flowers.”

“Ashton this is…” she shakes her head at a loss for words. She gazes upon the painting, loving the visibility of the palette strokes and the blending of the colors. Tears formed in her eyes. “This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she wipes the stray tear that slipped from her eye.

“Hey,” he says softly. His fingers graze her cheek tilting her face towards him.

His thumb rubs at the leftover tear, his own face inching closer to hers. She closes her eyes, exhaling when his lips brush against hers. He squeezes her hand, his lips controlled and gentle yet also hesitant. As if he’s testing the waters.

They unabashedly makeout in front of the paintings and in her mind she’s thinking of what they look like to an outsider. Still life man and woman lost in each other.

Three

The holidays arrived faster than she wanted them to. She still had a ton of shopping to do for her family but at least her flight is scheduled. Ashton is accompanying her on the trip and she’s so excited for him to meet her family.

“Make sure you aren’t doing anything the weekend before the holiday,” he tells her unravelling lights from her box of Christmas decorations.

“How come?” she asks searching through the tv for the claymation movies she loves to watch.

“That’s when I’m going to give you my present.”

“You need a whole weekend to do that?” she laughs.

“I won’t say anything more than that,” he smirks at her.

“I can help with that--”

“I got it sorted,” he waves her off, “you enjoy your movies.”

“Have I told you you’re the most amazing boyfriend?” she wraps her arms around his waist. Ashton shifts the lights into one hand so he can hold her against him with his free hand.

“You’ve never told me that,” he grins and kisses her.

“I’m sure I have,” she mumbles between kisses. Her hands slip under his shirt, thumbs grazing over his warm skin causing Ashton to grunt at the contact.

His hand rubs up her back and into her hair, he breaks the kiss with a shaky breath. “Let me finish putting these lights up and we can get back to this, baby.”

“We could get to this faster if you let me help,” she stresses, pinching his skin. “You never let me do anything.”

“You do plenty, baby,” he smiles, kissing her forehead.

She sighs and retreats to the couch curling up to watch the movie and Ashton wrap and weave the lights around her tree. Two and a half movies later he was finally finished and turned the lights on. The white light reflected on her wooden floor and she beamed at his job well done.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!” she throws her arms around his neck in a big hug.

“My pleasure,” he chuckles and kisses her temple. She starts to give small kisses to his neck, featherlight and ticklish on his skin. “Get outta here, you know I’m ticklish.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” she teases continuing her small attack of affection.

Ashton shifts her in his arms making his way to her couch and drops onto the cushions. She situated herself so she’s straddling his waist. His hands smooth over the curve of her ass while his lips suction kisses along her jaw and to her neck. She shivers at the contact, tugging at his curls when he sucks a mark.

“This is what I’m gonna do about it,” he says gruffly and rocks her against his hips.

“Okay,” she sighs, enjoying his mouth on her neck and the bulge in his pants rubbing against her core with each rock he makes her do. She moans when his hands move to her thighs and gives her a squeeze.

Needing more of him, she drags his head away from her neck so she can feel his lips on her own again. She rolls her hips against his without his help and his hands slip under her shirt, moaning when he feels she’s not wearing a bra.

“Damn, baby,” he growls cupping her breasts together. He tweaks her nipples and she squeaks in his mouth. “You like that?”

“Feels good,” she nods nipping at his lip. His phone rings and buzzes in his pocket, the vibration adds another element to her arousal.

“Leave it, they can leave a message,” he pants, sucking another kiss from her.

His phone stops ringing only for hers to start on the coffee table behind them. She breaks the kiss and turns around trying to see the caller ID.

“Leave it,” he repeats, squeezing her breasts again.

“It could be an emergency,” she reaches for her phone to see it’s Sarah calling. “Hello?” She picks it up staring at Ashton and he smirks, lifting her shirt up. He takes her nipple between his lips and she scowls at him. “Oh, that was tonight? Um, yeah he’s with me. We’ll be right over. Okay, yeah…” she sighs when his teeth tug on her nipple. “See you soon.”

She tosses the phone to the couch and tosses her head back relishing in his mouth on her sensitive bud for a moment longer. Their physical relationship is progressing slowly, they’ve almost had sex three times (now four if Sarah hadn’t called) but she likes the pace they’re going at.

“We need to go to Andy and Sarah’s,” she strokes his cheek curling his hair around his ear.

“Why? I’d rather stay here,” he shifts his mouth to her other breast, his tongue rolling over her nipple salaciously.

“Mm, me too but it’s their Christmas party tonight. And we’re late by two hours,” she snickers, fingers still tangled in his hair. She has goosebumps from what his mouth is doing to her.

“I’m sick, can’t go.”

“Ashton!” she laughs pushing his head away from her chest. “We won’t see them until after the holiday. Come on, let’s go.”

She crawls off him, turns her tv off and changes her top, and puts on a bra. When she comes back Ashton is still sitting on the couch. She leans over the back of it next to his head.

“Do I have to drag you off this couch?” she murmurs in his ear.

“I need a few moments,” he huffs, shifting his legs.

“Oh,” she giggles, seeing exactly why because he still has a prominent bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry. Can I help?” she kisses down his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

“You helped make this problem,” he laughs, turning his head to kiss her lips.

The Christmas party was a hit and it’s the weekend before Christmas. Y/N was awakened by Ashton petting her hair and kissing her cheek, he used the spare key she gave him for emergencies.

“What a way to wake up,” she smiles, pulling him on top of her. His strong arms are caged around her head and his body weight makes her feel protected.

“Your coffee is all ready, now you just have to pack and we’ll be on our way.”

“No breakfast in bed?” She traces his eyebrows.

“I can make you breakfast in bed tomorrow*,” he nuzzles his nose against hers. “There’s a present by your coffee mug if that will help you get your cute ass outta bed.”

Then his weight is off her and she’s left scrambling out of bed to follow him into the kitchen where her coffee is already in her to-go mug with a card and a bouquet of red roses and cranberries inside to make it more of a holiday special. He’s standing next to the small gifts with a grin on his face.

“I love these, they’re so pretty,” she gushes, lifting the bouquet to her nose. She loves the sweet smell of a rose.

“You’re so pretty when I give you flowers,” he comments, lifting up the red envelope.

She holds the flowers against her chest and unfolds the envelope. Inside is a white card with writing formed in the shape of a Christmas tree, a star placed on top. The words read:

“TO A

KIND

STRONG

BRILLIANT

SO BEAUTIFUL

AND TRULY AMAZING

GIRLFRIEND”

Ashton wrote his own inscription inside in his nice loopy script:

‘The past year with you has been one of the best of my life. Our friendship was the perfect foundation for a relationship and I can’t imagine what my world would be like now if you weren’t in it. So this weekend, it will just be me and you in our own little cabin, no interruptions. xx Ash’

“A cabin?”

After the 2 hour and 40 minute flight to Seattle, she and Ashton arrived at the cabin where a dusting of snow covered the ground and a wreath was on the door. Y/N was floored at how beautiful it was and Ashton took her hand leading her up the wooden steps. He took a key out and unlocked the door.

It smelled like cinnamon and Ashton with cozy couches and armchairs, a large rug in front of a stone fireplace and a massive kitchen with a grill attached to a chimney. A Christmas tree was set up with presents scattered underneath and there was a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table.

“Ash…” she begins and then can’t find more words.

“There’s more, c’mon,” he smiles, leading her up the winding staircase and into a loft area where a futon was and empty bookshelves. There were a few guitars on stands placed in the corner and some incense sticks. “What do you think?” He leans against the railing and Y/N ventures into the room.

“I think it’s wonderful, but there aren’t any books. Is this someone’s cabin and you’re renting it? I can chip in--”

“No, no. It is someone’s cabin...mine.”

She whips around from looking out the half circle window overlooking the backyard where she saw another grill and some chairs.

“This place is yours?”

“Yep. I come here when I need to get away and just let my creative ideas flow. You can fill the bookshelves if you’d like.”

“Ash this is…” she shakes her head then launches herself into his arms for a hug. “This is incredible. And we’re here the whole weekend? Just us?”

“Just us, angel,” he nods, rubbing at her back. “There’s also a hot tub.”

His voice changed at the mention of the hot tub because she didn’t bring a suit.

***

Ashton’s plan for Friday evening was to unpack and go into town for a nice meal. After dinner, they changed into their sleep clothes and snuggled on the couch with hot chocolate watching the first Home Alone movie because they’re her favorite movies. Her mind was on that hot tub and her stomach twisted with excited nerves at the thought of using it. She wanted to use it now but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth each time she tried to bring it up.

She was also thinking of how this would be their first time sleeping together. Ashton never stayed the night because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. She found it sweet but it also increased her infatuation for him even more.

When she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, he had her lean on him while they walked to the bedroom. The bed was huge with a large comforter and even fluffier looking pillows. It looked heavenly and she slipped inside willingly. She rolled over and became awake again at the look on Ashton’s face.

She tossed over the blanket on his side of the bed and patted the space below the pillow inviting him in. He crawled in carefully and shut the lights off and they were in darkness. Ashton remained sitting against the headboard and Y/N reached out for him in the dark. His forearm was warm and soft.

“Are you going to sleep like that the whole night?” she whispers, giving his arm a squeeze.

“No,” he whispers back, sliding further down the bed. Her hand now rested on his chest, she could feel his heart beating. He turns on his side clutching her hand in his. “Is it weird I’m nervous? I feel like I’m fifteen.”

“You first slept with a girl at fifteen?” she laughs.

“No, I meant--being around girls at that age made me nervous,” he chuckles.

“I’m nervous, too. But in a good way. Just warning you, I’m a kicker so I apologize in advance.”

“Why are we still whispering, we’re the only ones here,” he says, raising his voice to a normal level. That only makes her giggle more.

“I don’t know, it fits the mood with you regressing back to fifteen years old. Our parents could walk in at any moment.” She scoots closer to him, so close that she can feel his breath fan on her face.

“I hope they don’t,” he murmurs, inching closer in the dark until he finds her lips. It’s a tender kiss, the kind of kiss that took her breath away slowly and made her heart smile.

She keeps him close with her hand pressed to his cheek. They kiss and talk in hushed tones until she falls asleep and Ashton tickles up her back until sleep finally finds him, too.

Saturday morning did indeed include breakfast in bed. Ashton made pancakes, bacon, coffee and a small bowl of fruit. His itinerary for the day consisted of lounging around the cabin watching holiday movies and then he was going to make her a steak dinner. She insisted on helping him in the kitchen amidst his protests.

“I’m not a good cook but I’m a very good listener. I’m your sous chef.”

“What does ‘sous chef 'even mean?” he asks getting the ingredients out of the fridge.

“It means ‘under.’”

“Ah, so you’re under me, huh?” he winks.

“Let me help you cook and I just might be,” she challenged with a smile. Ashton shakes his head, a slight blush rising on his cheeks.

She followed his instructions with the garlic and mashed potatoes. The dinner was exquisite paired with a delicious white wine. They each had a full glass, their bellies full and face warm from the wine, they were extra giggly and extra flirty.

“How about that hot tub?” he asks, circling the rim of the wine glass with his finger.

“Did you pack a suit?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Nope.”

“I didn’t pack a suit either,” she points to her chest.

“Must have slipped my mind,” he gulps the last swallow of his wine, eyes on her.

“What a shame.”

He sets his glass on the table and takes her hands in his, his eyes looking almost apologetic. “You can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He kisses both of her hands.

“Go get the water ready.”

Twenty minutes later, she walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Ashton is already in the water. His arms are resting on the sides of the tub, his face even redder from the steam, his eyes hold hers steadily.

The confidence she had in the bathroom is gone. She wanted to come out here and just get in the water completely naked, but now she’s nervous because what if she was reading the signs wrong? What if he doesn’t really want to have sex with her?

“Um, can you close your eyes while I get in?” she asks.

“‘Course,” he closes his eyes.

She takes a deep breath dropping the towel. The air kisses her skin and she climbs up the steps carefully. The water is hot as she descends into the tub, she bends down so only her head is exposed above the water. Ashton remains still and she inches closer to him until their knees touch.

“Hi there,” he smiles softly.

“Hi.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

First she nods then realizes he can’t see her so she clears her throat. “Yes.”

He opens his eyes slowly, and they look so pretty in the nighttime sky. He’s looking at her like he’s staring into the full face of the moon, his eyes are full of wonder and adoration and her confidence starts to rise within her.

The longer he looks at her, the more bold she becomes and she rises up from the water. Her breasts are completely exposed. Ashton licks his lips, his eyes lowering over her wet chest. She doesn’t want to break the spell that’s cast between them so she moves towards him slowly, her hands rest on his shoulders. His arms remain on the sides of the tub.

“Ashton.”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me.”

In a flash, his lips are on hers and she’s pressed to his chest. His large hands cover her back, one dips over her ass and she gasps when she feels his hard-on against her thigh. He lifts her effortlessly in the water so she’s straddling him.

Instinctively, she rubs herself against him groaning at how he rubs against her most sensitive area perfectly.

“Need you,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Bed,” he gasps.

They exit the tub excitedly, drying off as quickly as they can and she presses herself against him in front of the bed. Their bodies are warm from the tub and he lifts her in his arms again. She loves feeling his muscles wrapped taut around her, he knees onto the bed and stays there. Their arms are wrapped around each other and they remain kissing.

“Do you have something?” she asks, pulling away to catch her breath. She twists his chest hair in her fingers.

“Um, yeah. Shit, hang on,” he sighs, slipping her back onto the bed. She watches him appreciatively as he skimpers to the kitchen pulling his coat off the hook.

“You have a really nice butt,” she compliments when he returns with a condom in hand.

“Thanks, babe,” he laughs then stops at the foot of the bed staring at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing. You’re perfect.”

She smiles and pulls him on the bed with her again, connecting their lips. He rips open the condom and rolls it on his length. He kneels on the bed again and she’s quick to climb on top, moaning at his shaft rubbing between her folds.

“Such a pretty moan,” he praises, grasping his cock in his hand. He teases her hole with his tip, nudging it inside a few times. Her lower body meets his in a desperate way, small gasps coming from her each inch he goes in deeper.

“Please, Ash...want all of you,” she knocks her forehead against his.

He takes a deep breath and pushes all the way in, his eyes watching her as her mouth opens and her eyes close at being filled. Their bodies tremble together and they remain still, experiencing being connected for the first time.

“Good?” he asks, rubbing her nose affectionately.

“Mhm,” she nods and starts to roll her hips against him. “Ohhh…” she lets out a shuddering breath.

He follows her rhythm easily, arms wrapped around her, enjoying the way she rides on top of him. He kneads her ass as she moves, her breath picking up and when he can’t take it anymore, he rises on his knees, her legs fall on either side of him and she gasps.

He rests her on her back gently, resting his chest against hers so that they’re still touching and rocks his hips in even thrusts. He slips his tongue in her mouth just as her legs wrap around his waist. She moans when he picks up the pace, her lower half meeting his thrusts perfectly.

“Are you close baby?” he pants feeling her walls start to flutter around him. “So good for me...so perfect...taking me so well.”

“Don’t stop,” she moans tilting her head back. Ashton pounds into her faster, each time he thrusts in she clenches around him a bit more tightly.

“Fuck…” he hisses when she clenches and stays that way. Her moans are loud in his ear and he always wants to be the one that makes her sound like that. He can’t hold his climax off with her sounding like that and he’s coming with her. “I love you,” he groans loudly in her neck.

When they recollect their breathing she holds his face in her hands.

“What did you say?” she gasps out, eyes wide with lust and surprise.

“I love you,” he breathes, stroking her temple with his thumb. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted to tell you that this weekend, too. It’s hard for me to say out loud and with just us--”

She kisses him fiercely.

“I love you, too.”

Four

When she went to work there was a flower arrangement at her desk with a note from Ashton wishing her a great last day before her vacation for her birthday and his birthday. Hers was the day before his and everyone wanted them to do a joint party when they found that out.

“No, that’s weird,” she scrunched her nose at the suggestion.

“Yeah, we aren’t siblings. That’s gross,” he agreed.

She took the week off for their birthdays so they could maybe go to the cabin or even rent a house on the beach. She loved her birthday but whenever she made plans, they always fell through or people never showed up.

She texted him that the flowers were beautiful and she couldn’t wait to spend the day with him the next day. When she got home, he was already there wearing an all black outfit with his shirt open. He knows how much she likes seeing his chest.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she holds up the vase of pink peonies showcasing them. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Kiss me first,” he puckers his lips at her.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggles and steps on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. They always kiss each other hello.

“Now, go get changed. We’ve got plans,” he grins.

“What kind of plans?”

“Look on your bed and see,” he nods to her room down the hall. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.”

She shakes her head and does what he says. On her bed is a dress she always ogled when they were at the mall, Ashton clearly bought it for her. He spoils her too much. Next to the dress is a black satin blindfold. She narrows her eyes at the blindfold but quickly changes into the dress.

“What is this for?” she asks, stepping out into the living room with the blindfold in her hands.

“For your eyes. Turn around.”

“Are we roleplaying?” she asks, turning her back to him.

“No,” he laughs, placing the fabric over her eyes.

He helps her walk to his car and she’s asking him so many questions. He refuses to answer them and laughs at her outlandish predictions of taking her away to a private island.

His hand is firm in hers when they’re walking to wherever they’re going. She stumbles a little because she doesn’t know the terrain but it feels like pavement under her feet.

“Are we there yet?” she asks.

“Almost. Okay, there’s a few steps. Up, up, up, up, and last one. Good. Okay, I’m going to take it off you now.”

She feels him move behind her. He unties the blindfold slowly and it drops from her eyes. She blinks slowly to get used to the light and is met with all of their friends and family before her. There’s flower arches behind them and they’re all wearing flower crowns on their heads.

“SURPRISE!” They shout and she gasps when they start to sing Happy Birthday.

Sarah wheels in a cake with flowers sprawled over it and her name in the middle. Y/N grasps Ashton’s hand in her own, tears forming in her eyes. His other arm wraps around her waist, his chin rests on her shoulder as he sings softly in her ear.

“...dear Y/N...Happy Birthday to you…”

She wipes at her eyes overcome with emotion from the surprise and that Ashton went through all this trouble.

“Make a wish, angel,” he murmurs in her ear.

She closes her eyes, thinks of a wish, and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers and she twists around to give Ashton a big kiss. There’s even more cheers for that and then she’s whisked away for hellos and hugs. Flowers are hanging from the ceiling like vines and she’s never been surrounded by so many flowers.

“Were you surprised?” Sarah asks as a waiter starts to cut the cake.

“Totally surprised. But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” she gives Ashton a side eye.

“You told me you wanted to spend it with me, so your party with everyone else is today,” he smiles.

“And all these flowers? I love it all so much, thank you.”

“Your eyes will have that shine all night,” he grins, kissing her nose.

One

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Ashton laughs behind her as they trek through the woods by the cabin.

After her surprise party, on her actual birthday they spent the first half watching movies and the second swimming at the beach. They had a late flight to go to the cabin. Upon arrival, Ashton spent the last hour of her birthday pleasuring her with his mouth and fingers. When the clock struck midnight, she flipped him over with a smirk.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she whispered and slid down his body so she could please him.

She loves hearing his moans just as much as he loves hearing hers. She loves how one hand is fisted in her hair and the other rests behind his head watching her go down on him.

“Yes, I know where I’m going. Come on birthday boy.” She ducks under a branch then sees the clearing ahead.

“I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a boy,” he grunts.

“Sorry, old man,” she teases and he smacks her ass playfully.

When they come into the clearing, there’s a red and white checkered blanket in the grass with a large basket in the center. Wildflowers surround it in purples, yellows, oranges and a few reds. It’s a magical place.

“Did you do all this?” he asks seeing the set up.

“I did. Come on, there’s more.”

They kick off their shoes and sit on the blanket. She opens the basket taking out his favorite foods and a wrapped gift.

“I told you, you don’t have to get me anything,” he sighs while taking the gift. “You’re more than enough.”

“I know, but it’s part of my love language. And it’s homemade anyway,” she shrugs. “Open it up.”

He unwraps the corners before tearing the paper all the way off. He stares at it in his hands for a long time. She made him a shadow box frame with a picture of them when they were at the beach during sunset. It was their favorite picture and surrounding it were dried flowers.

“Do you know what these are?” she asks, pointing to the flowers.

“Flowers?” he chuckles touching the glass.

“This one is from the first flowers you brought me when you helped me move in, these are from our first date, this is from Christmas and the small cranberry. These are from work and my birthday, and these are from Valentine’s Day. These are all the flowers you’ve given me,” she smiles and he looks at her stunned.

“You kept them all?”

“You’re the only one who ever bought me flowers and I loved them all so now you have them, too.”

“This is incredible, I love it. Thank you,” he reaches over to give her a kiss.

“Wait, there’s more,” she grins and reaches into the basket again. She pulls out live flowers arranged in a pretty bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Baby,” he stressed in astonishment and set the picture frame next to him.

He pushes her back on the blanket kissing her with all he’s got. The flowers get crushed and some stick in her hair but they’re surrounded by love and the sweet smell of flowers and kiss with passion.

“Happy Birthday my love,” she gazes up at him and sticks a flower behind his ear.

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#ashton irwin oneshot #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton oneshot #ashton 5sos writing #5sos writing

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messymessyml · 3 years

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Breaking and Entering

I'll be moving this one over to AO3 at some point (done, available here), but I'll start this off on Tumblr. This is a lighthearted, multi-chapter Jasonette story.

Summary:

Marinette is away from home when a curious visitor drops in. The kwami don't see any problem letting the man in; the question is: what will the guardian think when she realizes an intruder was in her house while she was gone?

Chapter 1 is below the cut.

Chapter 1: What did I come back to now?

Marinette felt a wave of relief hit her as her key turned smoothly in the lock. She was more than ready to unload her bags and take a well-deserved night in after a whirlwind week of consulting with clients in Metropolis. She’d decided to take Tikki and Sass with her and rent a hotel for the week as most of her clients were only available for early morning consultations, and while it was the most effective way to make sure she didn’t miss a meeting, she was glad to be back home.

Gotham may not be as glitzy or have as many potential clients as Metropolis, but it more than made up for that with the anonymity that Gotham allowed her. The local mentality of ‘take no shit’ and ‘mind your own damn business and I’ll mind mine’ allowed the kwami and her freedom that they wouldn’t get in Metropolis, a city crawling with news stations and a baffling love of all things mundane. Half the time when she visited Metropolis it felt like she had a target on her back; the paparazzi were worse in Metropolis than they ever were in her Parisian hero days and that held for her professional pseudonym as well as plain Marinette. It was a wonder that with so many news outlets (and Superman to report on for crying out loud) that she was still the topic of a news piece twice in the past week: once as MDC and once as plain old Marinette. In all seriousness was helping with a local tree planting event for Earth Day that newsworthy?

‘Enough of that’, she thought, realizing that although her door was now unlocked, she’d thought so much about arriving home that she hadn’t even fully opened her door. A slight twinge of embarrassment hit her. Carrying her tiny friends everywhere was always a blessing, but sometimes, she mused, it might be nice not to have an audience for every action she took—no matter how embarrassing.

Letting go of that train of thought, Marinette stepped through and closed her door behind her, feeling tension bleed out of her shoulders. The underlying scent of vanilla and blossom honey hit her nose as she strode over to the kitchen island. She set her bags to the side and took a hold of one of her swinging barstools with the intention to sit for a bit before making any attempt at dinner for the kwami and herself. Absently tracking the path Sass and Tikki took as they flew in the direction of the room where she kept the Miracle Box, she hesitated to sit as she noticed a slowly building feeling of unease hit her. Something, she thought, was off.

Sharpening her gaze and gripping the barstool a little tighter, Marinette scanned her apartment. At first glance, the living space looked unchanged from how she left it; the furniture was where it belonged, and her shelves and wall art were unmoved. As she looked closer though, she saw items around the house that were shifted a bit more than they would be if the kwami had decided to explore while she was away: the living room rug was centered, the dishes she had left to dry right before leaving the house a week ago were put away, and the barstool she was currently grasping was a bit more level than it had ever been, thrifted as it were. The kwami were a joy to interact with and an honor to serve as their guardian, but cleaners and tinkers they were not.

Marinette released her grip on the stool, rounding the kitchen island to open the cabinets. Like she thought, the dishes she had washed a week ago were put away and the towers of plates and bowls looked straighter than they were normally. Her gut churned as the beginning stages of worry started to fill her.

A chorus of greetings from behind her met her ears, disrupting her thoughts. Turning, Marinette saw the kwami flying towards her from the hallway.

“Marinette, did you have a nice trip?” Mullo squeaked.

“Guardian, I hope all went well on your trip. It is wonderful to have you back home.” Wayzz said.

The other kwami threw in their own noises and words of agreement, mirroring Wayzz’s welcome.

Marinette couldn’t help her small smile, replying, “My trip went well, and I am happy to be back here with you all.” She paused, hesitating before she asked, “Did anything happen while we were away?”

“Not much, Pigtails.” Plagg swam leisurely into view, tailed closely by Tikki, both twirling as they approached. “Some fighting outside, and a bit of a showdown on rooftops at the end of the block, but no damage to our building.”

Wayzz intercepted Plagg’s path, floating into the center of her vision to say, “That may be true, Plagg; however, one of the combatants took a breather on our balcony by using the garden for cover. He didn’t seem injured, but he was breathing heavier than was wise. Most of us hid in the box while I continued to strengthen the wards on the outer walls and windows.”

Marinette interrupted, “No one entered the apartment?”

Wayzz hesitated, then said “The man stayed hidden as best he could, but he was quite large, and I could feel the shifting balance; if he stayed on the balcony, he would have drawn fire here. I strengthened the barrier outwards then loosened the barrier on the balcony doors, undid the latch for him, and asked Trixx to hide us from view. He had a protector’s spirit and none of us could feel an intent to harm any but the ones he’d been fighting outside. I am sorry, Guardian, for making this decision without your input.”

Marinette took a deep breath to fend off the impending tension headache, unclenching the hand she had used to subconsciously gripped her other wrist. She loosened the muscles around her eyes to soften her gaze. “It’s alright, Wayzz. I wasn’t there, and I trust your intuition. What did he do?”

“He seemed distrustful of the open door at first but ended up entering almost silently and quickly moved to scan the apartment.”

Trixx added, “I made sure he could not see the Miracle Box and that he was not visible from the outside at any point, but he stayed away from the windows for the most part.”

Roarr piped in, “He has a fierce spirit, and I agree with Wayzz that he has a strong protective streak.”

She heard some murmurs of agreement from the other kwami, some of them breaking out into small discussion pertaining to the man’s character. “If so many of you saw him, did you leave the Miracle Box then? What did you see?” Desperately, Marinette wished that the immortal beings she called friends could get to the points.

“Some of us came out to see, but most of us stayed in the box. Trixx’s illusions held; he didn’t see or hear any of us.” Barkk confirmed.

“Yes, he mostly stayed in the living room. He sat right here for a while!” Saying this, Pollen surged towards the end of the couch, landing with their back to the armrest in a bored sprawl. “Like this!”

Plagg, swaying upside down near the ceiling, lazily added, “He wasn’t much fun. All he did was check his guns then started cleaning the place. Boring.”

“Guns?! Cleaning? Why?” Alarmed, Marinette’s heartbeat started to pound at the picture painted by the kwami. They had let a large combatant enter her apartment and all he did was inspect his guns and clean??? ‘This can’t be real’, she thought. ‘Was I caught up in one of Scarecrow’s attacks on the way home?’

“He had good manners at the least.” Kaalki sniffed. “His gear smelled of money and he fixed that stool of yours that never would have entered the premises if you had listened to me from the start. At least now it isn’t horrendously squeaky.”

“Hey!” Mullo protested.

Kaalki just turned away.

“He needed the protection.” Wayzz apologetically said. “He didn’t seem interested in your workroom and he wouldn’t have been able to find the box, so we observed. He cleaned a bit and left after checking that the coast was clear outside.”

Marinette allowed her shoulders to sag. “Alright. If you’re sure.” Glancing around, she gave the kwami a smile, eyes hesitating on the glass doors leading to the balcony, she absently added, “Thank you for keeping an eye on things while I was gone.”

Striding over to the doors leading out to the balcony, she peered out. Nothing seemed out of place out here, but she couldn’t be certain. Checking the door handles, she noticed that one of the kwami or her mystery visitor must have relatched the lock. Unlocking it, she stepped out and went to sit at her patio table. Leaning back in her chair, she let her head tip back to view the sunset, partially obscured by the balcony two floors above her own. Her apartment building had mostly staggered the balconies to allow more light to reach its inhabitants, a must in Gotham’s dreary weather.

After a few moments, she let her head droop forward to land in her hands. As much as she loved them, the kwami’s survival instincts always seemed at odds with hers. She couldn’t tell whether that was due to her anxiety amplifying everything past the point of reason or that the kwami’s inherent existence rendering most danger obsolete, but while some intruder might not be a danger to beings that could turn intangible and invisible at will, she was definitely a bit more breakable (‘Mortal’, her brain whispered) than them. If she had been here? Who knows how that visit might have gone?

Taking a few more minutes to calm her body’s response, a few deep breaths, and a moment or two of gratitude that nothing bad had happened, she straightened a bit as the evening wind started to pick up and a splash of white started to flutter at the edge of her vision. Glancing up, her eye caught on a piece of paper at the other end of the table that was weighted down with a rock she had decorated a while back with paintings of ladybugs and cats playfully chasing each other across a meadow. That particular rock usually spent time in the catnip bed Plagg had insisted on and Tikki had seconded as a nod to both kwami. Curious, she reached out and grabbed the sheet of paper underneath. Opening it, she read:

Dear Stranger,

I was in a bit of a tight spot and hanging around your balcony when your door swung open. Haunted house, much? Hope you don’t mind, but I ended up using your house as a temporary safe house while you were gone. Don’t worry, I made sure no one saw me entering or exiting, so you shouldn’t have any problems from the type of shit that follows me.

On the topic of haunted houses, are you sure yours isn’t haunted? Your house is unnervingly the calmest- and safest-feeling place I’ve been in a while, but I kept seeing blurs out of the corner of my eye and I was NOT concussed. Might want to talk to someone about that.

I ended up tidying a bit while you were gone, hope you don’t mind. Fairs fair, you (unknowingly, I know) lent me a place to stay, I tidied up a bit. Stay out of trouble, alright?

Cheers,

- Red Hood

The Red Hood? The RED HOOD is who they let into the house? For kwami’s sake, what were they thinking?!?

#jasonette #Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng #dc x mlb #ml x dc #maribat #meet cute #fluff #my writing #multichapter #Jasonette Breaking and Entering #kwami as immortal beings

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

Interrupted Road Trip

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader x Loki Summary: You and Sam are on a road trip. Your car breaks down and you find a hotel in the middle of the forest. The receptionist doesn’t seem surprised you’re stumbling upon the hotel and a room has already been prepared for you. Will you enter? Warnings: smut (vaginal and anal, oral from and to m and f), dom/sub tendencies, restraints, one spank, choking Word count: 2532 A/N: This is my entry for @ambrosiase Hotel Indigo writing challenge. Congratulations on everything you achieved and thank you for hosting this challenge. I chose the characters Sam Wilson and Loki with the room "Darkest Desires" and a vacation, namely a road trip.

You were upset at your car breaking down but after a little trek you and Sam saw a Gothic manor in the middle of a clearing of the windswept and rainy forest. The gravel in front was devoid of cars or any other vehicles. Honestly, you would have expected carriages drawn by at least four horses each. Nowhere was any sign of what this building was or who inhabited it. Someone was probably there, because light shone through the windows left and right of the carved double door. A few windows in the upper stories were illuminated.

The double doors opened on their own as you and Sam approached. You entered the hotel lobby. Light came from a black chandelier, small lamps on side tables between velvet chairs and loveseats and black and dark red candles on the walls. The color pattern was accompanied by dark wooden furniture. No one seemed to be there but as soon as you stood in front of it, there stood a person. They didn’t seem to have moved from somewhere in the back or came from under the reception desk.

“Please follow me. Your room has been prepared for you” They said and walked up the stairs with a candleholder.

Sam looked at you and shrugged his shoulders.

After three flights of stairs the person stopped in front of a double door. It was carved wood, as dark as the rest of the wooden furniture of the manor. Carved in it were things like vines and leaves, berries, apples and snakes. Peculiarly (or deliberately), the snakes were always near the apples. Above eye level were two carved and painted golden letters.

“D. D.” You read aloud. “What does that stand for?”

“Darkest Desires” The person said and went down the hallway and the stairs again.

“What do you think about this? Should we go in?” Sam looked at you and squeezed your hand.

“Why not? The car will still be broken down when we get out of this forest and besides, this feels weirdly homey.”

“Homey. Right” Sam chuckled.

“Let’s do this?”

“Yeah.”

You walked in the room, the doors once again opened by themselves. The room obviously focused on the big four poster king size bed with a canopy. The canopy was made of thick fabric, almost as thick as the floor length curtains to the windows showing the rain picking up even more. Light came once again from tall dark candles in candleholders on the wall. To the left and right of the bed were bedside tables and besides each stood a velvet armchair. On the left side was an oriel with two chaise lounges of the same material and on the right side a door led into a dark luxurious bath. You couldn’t see much of it but somehow you knew it had floor heating, a whirlpool and a big shower with special settings. It was like intuition.

Sam walked ahead to the bed and pulled the canopy away. “Would you look at the bedding and all the cushions! Now I’m, feeling very lucky to have broken down near here.” Sam pulled you down to sit on the bed. He kissed your lips softly.

“So you are the two Midgardians who broke down” Someone said calmly from the direction of the arm chair.

“My fucking God!” Sam jerked away from you.

“While people still do worship me in Norway, I did not think you were one of them. The American” The same voice continued.

“This can’t be normal” You looked over to the person. The person who looked like Loki. Who spoke like Loki.

“Come now, you didn’t think this place was normal, did you?”

“Not exactly, but this is not what I expected. Can’t say what I expected though” Sam, now sitting upright and pulling you to him, said.

“Why exactly are you here? And how did you get here? Into this room?” You blurted out.

“I am here because I have been involved with this manor for some short time. If someone who enters tickles my fancy, I come down myself and today I am glad I did. As to how, constraints you humans have, I don’t have.”

“Wait. What do you mean ‘short time’?” Sam thought out loud. “What even is ‘short’ for you?”

“Decades, one or two centuries” Loki mused. “You saw the gravel path. Big enough for carriages.”

“O- kay.”

“When thoughts about time and space constraints are out of the question, I expect you two can think of why I’m here?”

“Sure we can” Sam said. “And you are…?”

“Yes.”

Loki rose from the armchair and stood in front of the short side of the bed. With a flick of his wrist the canopies on the sides facing the room flew open. Sam looked at you. You looked at Sam.

“We did talk about this. You’re sure you want to do this with him?” Sam looked from you to Loki.

“Yeah. Are you?” You looked between the two.

“Yes.”

“I thank you for the trust, Midgardians. Come here, pet” Loki beckoned you over to stand in front of the bed.

With deliberate slowness you walked over to him.

“I wouldn’t test myself, if I were you” He smirked.

“And what are you gonna do?” You challenged him.

Loki ignored you and spoke to Sam: “Is she always bratty?”

“Sometimes. She likes to test me. And, apparently, you. I can get her to behave. I’ll look forward to seeing how you’ll deal with her.”

You looked over at Sam in mock betrayal but couldn’t keep your grin full of memories of you and him and full with anticipation at what Loki would or could do completely off your face. You walked the last steps to stand directly before Loki. From behind, you felt Sam looking at you.

Loki took of your clothes one by one. Shirt, pants, socks, bra, at last your panties. He pushed you back until you laid flat on the bed. After another flick of his wrist, Sam and Loki were both naked. Both were already hard and standing proud. The contrast of Sam’s warmth to your left and Loki being colder than the average human sent a tingle down your spine.

“And now?” You grinned at them both.

Loki didn’t answer. Instead, he bent down and brushed his lips over yours. He sucked on your bottom lip and licked over your lips. You opened them and let Loki play with you further. Sam moved behind you and laid you between his legs.

Loki kissed his way down your body. You felt his lips on your body like they were everywhere. Everywhere except your neck. There, you felt Sam’s hand. He massaged and squeezed it. After a tighter squeeze you whimpered.

The God who seemed to have several pairs of lips looked up at you and smirked. “Look at you. Already whimpering and I didn’t even use seidr…”

Sam chuckled and stroked your cheek. “You wanted this. About that seidr of yours. Never saw you use it. What can you do with it?” He looked at Loki.

“I’m glad you asked, Samuel.”

After a glimmer, you were turned on your belly and felt your arms being pulled together behind your back. Your legs were spread and your mouth opened in an ‘O’ shape. You wriggled and tested your restraints.

Something cracked down on your butt. You hadn’t seen anything to do that with anywhere. And neither Loki’s nor Sam’s hands were near your butt. Loki had migrated to the head of the bed and stood near your head. Now and again he stroked your hair.

“Seeing her ass jiggle without anything in the way is incredible” Sam moaned.

You felt the familiar sting but with each second you still felt it, seemingly elongated by something or someone, you felt something else wrap around your legs, arms and torso.

“This is more than what would just achieve the goal” The tone of Sam’s voice told you, even while still locking eyes with Loki, that he was squeezing his cock.

“This is as much art as much as it is arousal.” Loki looked Sam up and down. His eyes stayed a little below Sam’s navel.

“I’ll take this as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is.”

With that, you heard a whoosh and there stood three duplicates of the Loki currently stroking your hair and spanking you but at the same time not. If that made sense. Then again, sense should be out the windows with the velvet curtains.

You turned your head and saw Sam being passionately kissed by the two Lokis that had just appeared. But you couldn’t enjoy the sight of Sam being pleasured, four hands caressing him and Sam seemingly not knowing where and who to touch and kiss, although technically they were the same person. Just double and that without any alcohol.

The Loki behind you pulled you to stand with your back to his chest. His colder lips traveled down your spine. He stood up again and pulled you closer to him. There was a smaller whoosh sound and two of the Lokis disappeared. One on your side and one on Sam’s side. The remaining God softly kissed down Sam’s back to America’s ass.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.

“That it is” Loki spread the cheeks and asked Sam: “Wanna experience something new?”

“Not like I don’t already.”

“I’ll take that as a yes” Loki started to sink into Sam slowly.

“I’m not pre-“ Sam said.

“Do not worry. I know a way” He whispered into his ear. Sam closed his eyes with a moan when he was entered from behind.

Sam seemed to need no time to adjust, despite being allegedly not prepared, and was immediately lost to pleasure. Loki wrapped his arms around him, pressing his chest to Sam’s back. The Loki behind you mirrored his twin or whatever he was in his position. He nudged your back entrance with his cock.

“Do not forget your lady” The Loki behind you addressed Sam.

His eyes snapped open and he chuckled breathlessly. “Sorry. It’s just so good.”

“Thank you” Both Lokis said in unison. “Now, enter her.”

Sam nodded and put his cock to your pussy. He filled you slowly. Agonizingly so. But at the same time you felt Loki entering you from behind.

“H- how is this possible?” You wanted to know.

“God” He whispered simply into your ear.

“Uh-hu.”

Loki grabbed your hair and bent your head backwards to kiss you passionately. You felt Sam’s wet lips and tongue licking and sucking on your neck. You could hear Sam being kissed as well and opened your eyes to see only sleek black hair just above Sam’s shoulder.

Fairly quickly, the men had found a rhythm that didn’t allow you any reprieve from stimulation. When Loki pulled back, Sam and ‘his’ Loki pushed in. Sam kissed you messily and started rubbing your clit softly. He spread your juices on his fingers and pushed them into your mouth, all the way to your throat. Your whimper morphed into a gag. Loki squeezed the base of your neck and at the same time Sam pulled his fingers from your mouth and slapped your clit.

You saw stars behind your eyes. You mouth opened in a silent scream and you felt yourself clenching both on Sam and Loki. Both didn’t cease or falter in their movements, they just stroked you even more and whispered sweet nothings to you.

“Such a good, pretty girl” Sam whispered when you went lax in their arms.

“Samuel, pull out of your lady” Loki ordered.

“Do I have to? She’s so warm and wet…”

“Obey me. You won’t regret it. And you’ll still have me behind you.”

“How?” Sam asked and looked back at the Loki behind him who was identical to the one behind you.

“Wait. You can feel that?” You asked.

“Excuse me?” The Loki behind you, the original one, responded and applied a little pressure on the sides of your neck.

“That came out wrong. I meant, can you feel what your illusion is doing?”

“Yes, pet. Before any of you ask, it would be too hard to explain. And I’d rather use my mouth for something else.”

“No shit, Sherlock” You deadpanned.

Sam’s eyes went wide at what you’d just said.

Loki’s voice became dangerously quiet. “Talk back to me once more and see what happens.”

You nodded. Sam smiled at you. “My, aren’t you a good girl for him?” He kissed you messily until moans of him and you broke the kiss, because the Loki behind Sam had thrust into him.

Loki laid down on the bed and pulled Sam with him. ‘Your’ Loki pulled out of you as well but before you could do much more than pout, he pushed you to your knees and pressed your head to Sam’s cock.

He pushed your head down until you gagged on Sam. He whimpered at the feeling.

“You feel so good…” He moaned.

He was pushed into you, just as Loki kissed his way up your thighs. Loki licked across your lips before he spread them and suckled on the inner sides of them, now and again poking his tongue a little into you. Then He stopped.

“Samuel.”

Sam just whimpered and continued to thrust into your mouth, like he was possessed.

“Samuel, you will not come before your lady. You will come at the exact moment she comes. Understood?” Loki said sternly.

“Y- yes” He moaned.

As reward for that, the Loki behind Sam quickened his pace. You hollowed your cheeks and licked him. Loki started sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers in you. He found your G spot almost immediately. You were already moaning around Sam because of how Loki pleasured your clit. But apparently that wasn’t enough for Loki.

He went to town on your G spot and you could do nothing but take it, the almost overwhelming pleasure transforming into muffled whimpers around Sam. Sam in turn whimpered because of the added vibrations and the thrusts he received from his Loki.

“I want you to cum, my darling” Loki whispered into your ear and thrust into you.

You felt like you ascended to the heavens and stayed there. Faintly, probably down on Earth, you heard a mix of whimpers, moans and even fainter gulps.

When you were able to open your eyes again, you looked into Sam’s big brown, and dazed, eyes.

“There you two are” Loki chuckled.

You looked around and saw the last Loki illusion having vanished.

“When you can move, let us take advantage of the whirlpool.”

In the bathroom, that had indeed floor heating, so your intuition like feeling had been right, you stepped into the whirlpool with Sam. Loki sat down between you and pulled you both close to him.

“Stay as long as you like” Loki offered.

Your car would still be broken down if you didn’t get a mechanic to come all the way out here. And you didn’t have anywhere else to be. After all, you were on a road trip with Sam.

What were a few more days?

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honey-boyyoongi · 3 years

Text

Pairing ➪ Y/n x Yoongi | Y/n x Jungkook

Word count ➪ 3.1k

Warning ➪ not beta read; angst; I am sorry in advance

Previous Fic Masterlist

Jungkook has been laying on your lap for what seems, hours. You haven’t spoken to him in a year, maybe a little more. A ‘hi’ here and there when Mrs. Jeon invites you, and Yoongi to events. You can never say no to her. Slowly, you start noticing Sooyoung showed up less, and less. Jungkook always gave the excuses, ‘She’s not feeling well’, ‘Sooyoung has a work project she has to get done’, ‘Her friend is having a baby, and she’s the birthing partner’, ‘She’s housesitting for her brother’. They never seemed to stop. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon were understanding, but visibly disappointed. As far as everyone knew, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t. Your mother told you it was about children. Jungkook wanted children, but Sooyoung was not sure if she ever wanted to be a mother. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting children, and not wanting the commitment of it. But they wanted different things.

What Jungkook never told his parents was how messy it was. The harsh words, the long nights, large amounts of tears shed on both ends, and the feelings of failure. Jungkook wanted to make it work. He wants to believe Sooyoung wanted to make it work. Within the week Sooyoung had moved into her co-worker’s place, at the end of the month the papers were signed, by four months the divorce was final, and Sooyoung had accepted a transfer to a sister location across the country. It was fine for a while, at least Jungkook tried to convince himself it was fine. The days felt long, dreary.

He tried to get back into painting, boxing, and other hobbies he had pre-Sooyoung. He started hanging out with friends more, Namjoon was more than happy to catch up over some beers from his favorite brewery. He even started talking to Yoongi more. They were work partners, regardless of that, their chatter never went past the needed communication to complete the necessary work. Jungkook started slowly, asking Yoongi if he wanted a coffee while he got his own. Inviting him to lunch with Namjoon. Even making jokes here, and there. It’s not what it was before, but they’re getting there.

He moved out of the apartment that him, and Sooyoung shared. It was difficult, but he’ll make this new space home. It’s definitely smaller than his previous apartment. Cozier, he wants to say. Jungkook fills it up with art that had been put in storage, his salvaged knick knacks, pictures with his friends and family. His parents gift him new kitchenware. His older brother helps paint. Namjoon gives him some new plants to care for, and Yoongi comes over to assemble some furniture because ‘you need the help kid’. A few weeks post-divorce, he feels good, normal. He’s out with his mom at the mall when he finally sees her.

He wants to say she’s more beautiful than he remembers, but all he can focus on is the bump she has. His mom catches his line of sight, “Oh, look at my Yn-ie. She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He nods in response. “She’s eight months now, Mrs. Min says it’s a girl. They’re so excited, Hyeri says Yoonie has been talking non-stop about the baby,” his mother chatters. She talks his ear off about the Min baby. The name, the nursery, heck even the baby shower the moms threw as a surprise. He’s happy for her, for them. He ignores the ache in his chest the rest of the outing.

His mother, bless her heart, goes up to Y/n. Asks how she’s doing, how baby min is doing. “Surprisingly energetic,” she jokes, “Yoongi says she gets it from him, but this is the same man that knocks out if he gets comfortable enough on anything.”

While his mom is chatting Y/n up, he takes her in. She cut her hair to a lob, waves a little more defined. Her smile lines are a little more prevalent. Eyes sparkling, a bit tired looking, the baby must be giving her a hard time if it’s kicking up a storm in there. She rubs her belly in comforting motions, as she talks with his mom. He can’t help admiring her features.

“What do you think, kookie?”

Jungkook stared at his mother, and Y/n, “I’m sorry what?”

His mother sighed, “He’s been like this for a bit, sweetie. Nothing sweetheart.”

They keep chatting about the baby. He tells his mom he has to finish his errands. She waves him away with a ‘be careful’ and ‘love you’. Y/n waves goodbye with a shy look. They walk slowly to the nearest bench, his mother’s hands waving around as she speaks.

He doesn’t know how he gets to Y/n’s house. One drink turned into three then six and a half. All doubles, of course. The bartender could tell he was drowning his sorrows, and promptly cut him off as he was ordering his seventh drink, but instead of a double a triple. His angel of a bartender helped him order an Uber to the nearest place he could remember. Once he arrived at the apartment complex, he made the very unsteady way to Yoongi’s and Y/n’s apartment. He knocked on the door heavily. It felt like a long time until Y/n answered.

She looked so pretty. In her cute little pj’s, belly accentuated by the soft material. Her cheeks a little rosy from the effort of walking at this point in her pregnancy.

Surprise filled her face, “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

He pouts, swaying a bit as he tries to find his footing, “I.. I miss you. It’s been hard these last few months without you.”

“Are you drunk,” Y/n asks worried.

Jungkook hiccups in response, “In my defense, the nice bartender lady cut me off.” Y/n sighs, she could call Mrs. Jeon to come get Jungkook. But she doesn’t want her to see him this inebriated. The feelings of the divorce probably caught up with him and were too overwhelming. Y/n doesn’t know what to do, but decides to take care of Jungkook like she used to.

Y/n takes his hand, and gently guides him to the large side of the L-shape couch. She avoids putting any of Jungkook’s weight on herself while gently, as gently as she can place a drunk man, sitting him. She coaxes Jungkook to slowly drink a full glass of water to sober up, with little difficulty thank goodness. After a moment or two of adjustment on the couch that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, Y/n settles next to Jungkook. It would be better to be closer to him, as to avoid the unavoidable struggle that movement seems to have these days.

Jungkook must be finding it difficult to sit upright, as he ends up laying down. Feet dangling on the edge, head on the available part of your lap, his face looking away from your belly. He starts to hum quietly, nothing specific really, it’s calming.

“Can you pet my hair, please,” Jungkook mumbles. Y/n nods, “Sure. Your hair has gotten long, I like it. It suits you.”

Jungkook slurs, “Thanks, Sooyoung hated it long. Said it made me look messy.” She hummed in distaste, “She also hated anything that wasn’t to her liking. I’ve missed you too Kook. It’s been weird not having you around.”

He snuggles deeper into her lap finding comfort in her warmth, “I know. You don't know how much I’ve been wanting to call you, and just tell you all the things that happened.”

Y/n nudges Jungkook up, she settles more comfortably into her spot and nudges Jungkook back down. He decides he’s no longer satisfied with looking at the wall in front of him, and with the most grace he can muster he turns to face Y/n’s belly. If he was sober enough he could’ve seen the pink rising in her ears. He grabs her hand and places it back on his head to keep receiving his favorite head scratches. Maybe it’s the whiskey, but he feels like he’s having a staring contest with Y/n’s belly. He’s strangely okay with that, until he feels the (surprisingly) hard kick of baby min on his cheek.

Jungkook lets out a groan, and follows it up with an antagonistic soft poke at the spot the kick came from. “Your kid isn’t even here yet and it’s already bullying me,” he sighs. “You’re supposed to be nice to your elders,” he tells her. Y/n giggles, “She’s a kicker. Sometimes she’ll wake me up in the middle of the night. I don’t know where she got this energy from. My mother in law says her boys weren’t too rowdy, and mom says I wasn't a kicker, but more of a crier. So that’s something to look forward to.”

Jungkook laughs, he wants to say she still is. He looks up at her, “Is it okay if I touch your belly?” Y/n is a little shocked. The few times he’s seen her, he’s never mentioned anything about her pregnancy. She wants to question him, but decides against it. She gives him a soft nod, and guides his hand to her belly. “Be gentle,” Y/n tells him.

Jungkook moves his hand in small, soft circles. Making quiet noises of contentment. A few minutes of silence pass by with no words exchanged. It feels comfortable, even a little nostalgic to how things were pre-marriages. “Kids,” Jungkook says.

“What?” Y/n asks.

“We divorced over kids,” he says more firmly, “Sooyoung wasn’t sure if she wanted kids. You already know I wanted them. We couldn’t come to an agreement of when we would start trying. She wanted to wait because she was up for a promotion at work, and she didn’t want to pass it up by staying home with the kids. I told her I was okay being at home with them, the good thing about my job is that I can work from home, if needed. I could be the stay at home dad, be part time until we were comfortable enough to put them in daycare and go back to full time. She said she’d think about it.”

He sniffles, and buries his face into Y/n’s belly. She starts to caress his hair to comfort him, “It’s okay, take your time.”

Jungkook sniffled a bit more, rubbing little circles on her belly with his thumb, “She said we would talk more about it. A little before you got married we talked about it again, but she kept saying she can’t do her job and be pregnant. I told her she wouldn’t do it herself, I would help her. We were a unit. She refused to talk about it after that. Any time I wanted to have a talk about it, it turned into something bigger and ugly. A few months ago I mentioned that mom had told me you were pregnant.” He paused for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to go on. Y/n kept playing with his hair, encouraging him to speak when he’s comfortable.

“I made a comment..,” Jungkook mumbles, “I made a comment about how I couldn’t wait for our kids to be running around together. Sooyoung got angry. She said that would never happen. I asked her why, you were still my friend, so is Yoongi. Why wouldn’t I want our kids to be friends too?”

Y/n hummed, not sure how to react to Sooyoung’s statement. “Is that what started the argument?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I got upset, I told her that she can’t keep avoiding my friends, I missed you guys and wanted to be how we were. I wanted you to, at least, be amicable. I didn’t expect her to be best friends with you guys.” Jungkook got quiet once again. He could feel baby Min moving. He wanted to feel what he’s missing these past several months.

“So, clearly she didn’t like us,” Y/n jokes.

Jungkook chuckled dryly, “Clearly. She said how do I expect her to be friends with the person she’ll always be second best to. As well as the people that blamed her for us not being together.”

“I told her Joon and Yoongi don’t blame her for anything,” he said, “She wasn’t second best to anyone, and you’ve been my friend for years. Sooyoung didn’t believe it. I asked her if we all somehow got along, why wouldn’t our kids be friends. She said there wasn’t going to be any kids for yours to be friends with. I asked her what she meant.” Jungkook choked up at the memory, “Sooyoung said after some thinking, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted kids. She doesn’t know if she can commit herself to that role. She says she has her career ahead of her and I can’t make her be a mom.”

Jungkook started to tear up, “I told her I’m not expecting her to be a stay at home mom. I repeated that I would be a stay at home parent… She… She said she’s not sure if she wants to have kids at all. Sooyoung said it’s too much responsibility.”

He started to sob, his body shaking from the increased intensity. “I couldn’t believe it. When we were dating she said she wanted kids. I’m not upset that she doesn’t want any, it’s her choice. I’m upset that she lied to me about it.”

Y/n’s heart aches for her friend, she knows how much Jungkook wanted kids. Namjoon might be the one buying baby shoes because he finds them cute, but Jungkook has always talked about being a dad. Always talked about how he wanted to be the type of parent his were, that encouraged him to thrive in his likes and talents. He was passionate about it.

“We talked all night. We couldn’t come to any type of resolution. So we decided to separate. This was something that was non-negotiable.”

“Is that what led to the divorce,” Y/n asked.

Jungkook nodded, “She stayed at a coworker’s place that she’s friends with. We didn’t talk for a couple weeks. Sooyoung reached out first. She said this is something she won’t change her mind on. She’s sorry for not being truthful about her stance on kids. We decided to divorce. We settled pretty quickly. It’s signed and official as of last month.”

“I’m sorry kook,” Y/n whispered.

You were sorry, he knew you were. He keeps rubbing your belly, feeling baby Min follow around. Wanting to feel the comfort of having you around.

Jungkook ends up falling in and out of sleep. He doesn’t know how long he lays there for.

“No, I’m fine.”

“He’s asleep right now.”

Who were you talking to?

“No, Yoonie, it's fine. He’s sleeping and he didn’t do anything. I think the divorce finally got to him.”

He heard you pause, but didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment. You must be speaking with Yoongi on the phone.

“No, we just talked about it. He was pretty upset, obviously.”

You continued to play with his hair, brushing out the knots with your fingers. He hummed lowly, snuggling closer to your belly. Baby Min must’ve had the same idea because she was still squirming around. Yoongi assured you he would be home soon with Namjoon to get Jungkook home.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Kook,” You answered.

He sits up, eyes puffy, and cheeks stained with tears. “Do you ever think about us?”

“Like? Our friendship? Of course, all the time,” you answer.

He scoots closer facing you, and reaches out to hold your hand. “No, I’m talking about us. What we could’ve been.”

“I did, but not anymore,” you answered honestly, “You chose Sooyoung, kook. I wasn’t going to wait forever. I deserved, and still deserve to be happy. And I am happy. You shouldn’t think about the what if’s.”

Jungkook sniffled. “I do,” he whispered, “All the time. I think about what if, I had worked up the courage to confess to you on one of our last movie nights? Things would’ve been different. We would’ve been happy. We would’ve gotten married, and had the wedding you always talked about.” He paused, he’s trying so hard not to cry about it. “We would’ve had those cats you wanted, and we would’ve finally adopted the dog that hangs around the convenience store. We would’ve had a baby. We would’ve been a family. I should’ve said something, shown you how much I loved you. How much I still love you.”

You pulled your hand away from him, “But you didn’t, you chose Sooyoung kook. I loved you, I still love you, but not how you want me to. Maybe things would’ve been different, but it’s too late.”

Jungkook starts to sob, he knows it’s too late. It felt bittersweet to hear that she still loves him.

Namjoon takes Jungkook home. He feels everything, yet nothing. Maybe he can start fresh with no what if’s to cling on to.

Joon helps him get cleaned up, and lays him down in his cold bed. He lets himself dream of what could’ve been.

“How are my girls doing?” Jungkook asked, while caressing your growing tummy. “SHE,” you pointed, “is giving mommy a hard time. S’been kicking all morning. She’s definitely YOUR daughter.” Jungkook lets out a sympathetic giggle. Your baby has been a pain in your butt, more like your bladder, since she could move. Mrs. Jeon says her youngest was the exact same, and to expect an energetic baby once she’s out. She’ll be all smiles, and sweet giggles, as well as a pain to put to sleep. Maybe she’ll take after her father and sleep like a log your mother in law jokes. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, birthing classes, nesting, nesting, and more nesting. The nursery has changed colors three times, Jungkook was insistent on doing art on the walls to give it a personal touch. Took a whole weekend, but now your baby girl will be slumbering under the stars.

Both of you have gone through the recommended parenting books, gotten advice from the grandmothers and aunties, Jungkook might’ve panicked a little at the repeated visual of you giving birth. But, it’s all part of the process. He’s been enjoying giving little facts he’s been learning from the shared pregnancy tracker.

“Babe, did you know our baby is the size of a cherry today?”

“Hey, by now they grew all their toes.”

“Did you know our baby can pee? In the womb?”

“Jungkook, what the fuck dude?”

Other than the obvious pregnancy issues, things have been smooth sailing. His favorite thing to do these days has been laying his head on your lap caressing your belly. If it was up to him he’d stay there for hours drawing patterns with his fingers, singing to his baby, feeling her movements.

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy~~~ originally I wasn’t gonna do an epilogue, but I got the idea after talking about a headcanon I had with my sister. Happy (super) late birthday to Jungkookie ❤️ hopefully in my next fic involving you, you get to be happy lol. Feedback is appreciated ❤️

Masterlist

#bts #bts angst #bts fics #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts non idol au #fic: all i want #yoongi #jungkook #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #reader x bts #bangtan fics #bangtan angst #bangtan #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan non idol au

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

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I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort?

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

"I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language.

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

#sebastian zöllner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zollner x y/n #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zollner #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #ich und kaminski #ich und Kaminski fanfiction #tw: depression #tw: self deprecation

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