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#God's like I've been thinking bout this all day
static-blue050 · 7 months
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What if, just throwing it out there...
Mirage and Noah accidentally end up in a car meet while cruising out and catch the eyes of all the people there. Noah's left to do all the talking and mirage silently loves all the attention that he gets from all the car enthusiasts. Noah gets asked to drift and at first he's like,
"Uh no idk about it"
But Mirage was feeling like a star and signals to Noah that he wanted to. So Mirage starts going crazy with drifting in a circle of cheering people and Noah's in the seat being scared out of his mind.
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i could draw anything but i decided to draw this. carlo and rocco in 1932 aka my headache
#^ this isnt real ofc but its what happening inside their heads (well in carlo's at least)#mfs when their old friend doesn't break under manipulation#“Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer” punching the wall with fist#rocco was the underboss not eddie can u hear me!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!! (capo henry situation in terms of complexity)#no m2 did smth to my brain and now im incapable of writing normal relationship between people#anyway. things that makes sense only to me rn unfortunately:#“AND YET ALAS I WELCOME YOU KNOWING ABOUT YOU” its carlo @ rocco but works both ways i think. RAHHHHHHHHH#YET YOU THINK WE'RE THE SAME RAHHHHHHHHH#youre not who u are to anyone these days im not who i am to anyone no not me at all these days not at all RAHHHHHHHHH#carlo who was afraid of rocco (for a reason) when he started to run the family rahhhhhhhhh#“That son of a bitch!.. I fuckin’ knew it!” <-watch me put a lot more meaning into a phrase that shouldn't make so much sense#2kczech need to pay me for developing rocco's character btw if u even care . and for writing this fucking falcone family backstory#“Холодный и острый осколок гранита; Смерть Голиафа в руке Давида”#<- “A cold and sharp shard of granite; Goliath's death in David's hand”#i've listened to this song too much it became certifed rocco song to me#let's say rocco helped carlo a lot w preparing moretti family for a new don. just bc i don't think it was this simple#“your capo killed your don lets all pretend that its cool and normal and it doesn't matter that he ran the family for 23 years😋😘”#avart#m2#i wont tag this w fandom tags dear god this shit is so delusional#dear god rocco been a gap and a blank spot in this story for so long but now i genuinely like him#tho i'm still not done with his character yet but there's enough for me to like him#sorry. not normal bout them. not at all .#rocco & carlo
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mcondance · 11 months
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come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
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sugurusbabygirl · 4 months
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how they eat you out
cw: somnophilia (Satoru), degradation (Toji)
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Choso:
He aims to please. Will lay between your legs until you're a crying begging mess. He doesn't believe in using his fingers when eating you out. No, no, he knows how to use that tongue. And he makes sure you know that. He's a chronic people pleaser, putting your pleasure first....every single time. He'll guide you through your second orgasm, holding your thighs open with a vice grip. All the while he's still fully clothed and painfully hard. But he doesn't care. Your cries and moans are like a symphony to his ears, and he never wants it to end.
"God, you're so beautiful like this." "Think you can do another one for me, baby? C'mon, yes you can. Mmm, there's a good girl."
Kento:
Oh boy. After a long hard day of work, Kento wants nothing more than to take care of his girl. You'd want to treat him, having dinner ready for him when he gets home, but he has an entirely different meal in mind. With no more than a grunted greeting, he'd be tossing you up onto the counter and down on his knees before the front door even closes. Strong hands shoving your panties aside, gripping your thighs to translate his fiery passion to you.
"Fuck....m'sorry, darling. Just-mm-need you." "Been thinking 'bout you all day, darling. Maybe I'll call in sick tomorrow, hm? Spend all day with you. How does that sound? Ah, ah, use your words."
Megumi:
He wants it to be perfect. Every. Goddamn. Time. He'll look up at you with those alluring eyes, tongue nestled between your folds, and have the audacity to ask if he's doing okay. Won't add any fingers unless you explicitly ask him to. You just sound so sexy when you're desperate, who can blame him? Lord help you if you ask him to stop, because unless you say the safe word, he won't do any such thing.
"Want me to what? Sorry, couldn't hear you, baby. Gotta speak up." "Another finger? But you're already shaking. You really think you can handle it?" "You sound beautiful. That's it, say my name again."
Satoru:
He's literally obsessed with you. The way your back arches when he flicks his tongue over your clit. How you whisper-scream his name as he slides his fingers through your wet folds. The gentle tug you give his hair, getting tighter as you get closer and closer to the edge. But he's especially obsessed with having you first thing in the morning, before your eyes even open.
"Shit, y/n. So wet f'me even when you're sleeping? Dirty girl." "Hm? Oh, awake already? Mm, don't worry, baby. Just relax."
Suguru:
He's ready to pounce at a moment's notice. If you do so much as swing your hips a little too much as you walk by him, he's tying up his hair and you know you're in trouble. He doesn't even want full on sex all the time, just some time between your legs and he's good for another couple hours. Like a starved man, he'll twist and slide his tongue in ways that have you breathless in a matter of seconds. He'll spew obscenities until you're shaking and crying, then go back to whatever he was doing like nothing happened.
"So fucking sweet, love." "Thought you could prance around in that new skirt and I wouldn't wanna tear it off you?" "God, you're gonna be the death of me." "Need this pussy like fucking oxygen."
Sukuna:
Obviously uses it to get himself off, I mean, come on. Loves to make a night out of it. Ties you up, spread eagle to the corners of the mattress. Blindfolds you, gags you with your own soaking panties. You know the safe word, so he doesn't dare stop. Not after the first orgasm....or the second....or the third. Plowing you through wave after wave of endless ecstasy. Begging doesn't work. Crying for sure doesn't work. Everything seems to spur him on.....
"Such a needy baby, asking for more when I've already given you three." "Oh, you want me to stop? I just don't think that's true, princess. Look at how wet you still are. Go ahead, taste yourself on my fingers. Suck."
Toji:
Mean, mean MEAN. But so very loving at the same time. Knows that his insults only get you off faster. He loves nothing more than to have you sprawled out on the couch, naked, just because he asked you. Your fingers gripping his hair like your life depended on it, pushing him deeper into your needy, pulsing cunt. There's not a feeling quite like it in the whole world.
"All this just for me? Oh, darling you're spoiling me." "Such a good fucking slut, hm? Love it when I hold you down like this, don't you?" "Good sluts get three fingers. You wanna be a good slut, right, darling?"
Yuji:
Baby boy just wants you to be happy. Studied you like a final exam the first couple times, learned what you liked and what you really liked. He loves the way your eyes roll back when he rubs circles over your hardened nipples. How your legs start to shake right before you cum. How speechless he can make you after just a few gentle licks.
"Yeah? That feel good, baby?" "God, I love you like this." "No, no, please don't pull away. Let me give you another one, please?"
masterlist <3
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dixons-sunshine · 1 month
Note
Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au
Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything
A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”
Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”
“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.
You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.
“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”
You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”
“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”
“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.
Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”
You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”
Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”
“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”
Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.
You were amazing to him like that.
“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”
A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.
“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”
You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”
You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.
A ring.
“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”
You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”
“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”
You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”
Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.
“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”
Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.
“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”
Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”
You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”
Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”
Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.
“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”
Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”
“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”
Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.
Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”
“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”
“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”
“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.
“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”
“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”
“I love you too.”
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fooled-around-and-fell · 10 months
Note
Can you do a shy reader who is not very good with social cues and agent Whiskey please 
oh boy, with agent whiskey who's a serial flirt? this reminds me of that scene from grey's anatomy of mark sloan and cristina yang lol. anyway, hope you enjoy! ❣️
Social Cues
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warnings: flirting. fluff.
pairing: agent whiskey (jack daniels) x female reader
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when jack was informed that there will be a new recruit, he wasn't expecting you. you, in all your glory, and jack can't help but stare as you introduce yourself to the others.
like a moth to a flame, jack volunteers every time there's an opening on your case, has lunch with you, offers you a ride home, everything he could think of just so that he can get a (longer) whiff of you.
but jack is slowly losing his mind. he knows he's got game-- he's jack daniels, for god's sake. jack was just poking fun at first, but now he's actually interested in you and wondering why in hell aren't you?
there's a number of times when jack's trying to flirt with you but you just don't get it. it frustrates and intrigues him.
"hey sugar, why don't you join me for dinner tonight and afterwards i can show you just how my whip works, yeah?" jack smirks. "thanks jack, but ginger already showed me the mechanics. maybe just dinner?"
another time;
"oh, jack, you look like a tomato." jack chuckles, he just returned from a mission that had him stand in the sun for hours. he's sunburnt. "yeah? was hopin' you like tomatoes." "yeah! they're good as a sauce or soup."
"maybe try just telling her you're interested?" ginger suggests.
jack looks at her like she's crazy. "now where's the fun in that?"
"well you're clearly not going anywhere with your current approach." she says. "doesn't seem like your regular charm is working."
"it works. usually." he presses. "i just need to figure out what she likes."
jack spends the next few days coming up with the perfect way to approach you and impress you. he now knows what you like and dislike, what you can't tolerate, and what you absolutely love.
it's not until he sees tequila flirting with you, and you blushing that it gets him mad.
"what's going on here?" he casually asks.
"oh, tequila's just telling me a funny story." you giggle.
jack raises his brow. "oh really? 'bout what?"
tequila shrugs. "had to be there for it to be funny, you know? i'll see you later." he sends a wink your way before leaving.
you shake your head with a smile and look at jack. "so, what can i do for you, jack?"
jack's lips are still pursed. he can't believe tequila would stab him in the back like that.
"jack?"
"huh? oh, nothin-" jack clicks his tongue. enough is enough. "no, actually, i do have a question for you."
"shoot." you nod.
jack looks at you deeply and takes a breath. "what is wrong with you?"
"huh??"
"i- i've been trying to flirt with you all week, and you ignore me. you shoot me down, but you're all smiles and sweetness when you do it." he says. "sugar, i don't know if i should be insulted or what."
your eyes are wide as you stare at him. "you've been flirting with me?"
"yeah." jack replies, stating the obvious. "wait, you don't know?"
you shake your head. "i'm.. okay, it's probably my bad," you grimace, "i've been told that i don't pickup social cues very well."
jack groans and sighs. "no kidding."
you can't help the small chuckle escaping you at jack's obvious struggle. "why don't you ask me directly?"
"what?"
"ask me. directly."
jack blinks a few times and straightens himself. "can- no. will you give me the honor of taking you out on a date?"
you smile. "of course, jack. see, that was easy, right?"
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itwasthereaminuteago · 7 months
Text
|| When You Come Home ||
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Frank Castle x female reader
I wrote a lil thing to go with my gorgeous commission by @bunnelbie ! 😍
The sound of an engine pulling up outside has you dropping the knife and vegetables you had been preparing down on the counter. He had sent you a text earlier in the day telling you that he'd be back today and you had been buzzing, almost unable to concentrate on anything other than just waiting for him to walk through that front door.
When he'd left, the first couple of days had been fine. He'd send you updates, just checking in to let you know he was alive. Then it would go quiet for a while and of course during those times your head was full of worry, but then he'd always get in touch again to let you know he was safe.
One time he had called you, late at night just as you were settling down in bed. He had filled your ears with sweet promises of everything he was going to do to you when he came home, and the memory of it now dances just underneath your skin.
You go to the door ripping it open just as he's getting out of his truck, seeing him standing there with his bag slung over one shoulder. Then you're running the short distance across the drive barefoot, throwing your arms around him.
"Frankie!"
He grins so wide, dropping the bag and returning your tight hug. You're never letting him leave for so long ever again, you think to yourself. The sound of his chuckle as you frantically pepper kisses all over his face fills you with a syrupy warmth that you've been missing for almost a month. Your Frank is finally back in your arms and you're so grateful.
"Hey you," his grizzled, out-of-use voice meets your ears and only makes you squeeze him more before pulling back and kissing him properly.
"Goddamn baby I've missed you." He lifts you off the ground and you squeal with delight as he spins you around. When he lets you down you don't fail to notice the slight groan he makes.
"You're alright? You're not hurt?" You hurriedly inquire, your hands touching almost every bit of him as you scan for anything more serious than the scrape on his cheek. He looks tired and you're sure you'll find some bruises later on, but other than that you're satisfied that there's nothing concerning.
He starts to walk you backwards into the house. "Nah I'm not hurt, don't you worry. You gonna let me come in huh?" He kids, and you laugh, pulling him inside and closing the door as he puts his bag down on the floor. As he shrugs off his jacket your eyes catch a glint of silver on his wrist. "Oh my god, you're actually wearing it?"
Frank glances at the bracelet around his right wrist, surprised that you thought he wouldn't. "'Course I'm wearin' it, you got me it!"
"I know I- I just thought you might think it was silly."
You had one too, a silver chain with a charm. A heart with a tiny skull etched on it.
Frank steps up closer to you, nudging his nose against yours before kissing the tip of it. "Ain't silly, every time I see it I'm reminded of you, sweetheart. That's all that kept me goin' some days."
He smiles softly as your eyes go Bambi-wide at his admission and you look like you're about to burst into tears but when he strokes his fingers through your hair and thumbs over your cheek it tempers the strength of your emotion. "I love it baby."
He looks over to the countertop distracting you from getting overwhelmed. "You cookin'?"
You nod. "Yeah, just making some dinner. Wasn't sure when you'd be back exactly or if you'd even be hungry, but I thought I'd get it started anyways."
"Oh yeah I'm hungry alright. Let me wash up real quick and we can finish it together, how 'bout that, hm?"
You grasp at him, scrunching your fingers in his shirt like he's going to disappear again but he just smooches you over and over promising he'll be right back in just a minute. You go back to the chopping board in the meantime and when he returns he slinks his hands around your waist, his chin settled in the crook of your shoulder and neck.
"Oh, is this what you call helping?" You tease, but you're full of love at the easy contact between you. It was like he'd never been gone.
"Mhm," he hums, kissing into your hair again as he continues shadowing you.
You giggle, trying to get stuff done with him hanging on to you, but he does eventually chip in to get everything prepared and in the oven. It was usually Frank who did the cooking when he was home, and he was really damn good at it. He kept you fed in a multitude of ways.
After dinner the washing up is left as tomorrow's problem, because right now you just want to spend quality time with your man. He's back from battles he's not quite ready to share, and even when he is ready to open up about it you doubt you'll get the full story, but that's alright.
Frank sits down on the couch, spreading his legs wide and beckoning you to join him. When you climb right on him making yourself comfortable in your favourite place, on his lap, he quietly chuckles, taking you in his arms.
You kiss him.
Yeah you had kissed earlier but this was different. Now, you knew he was safe, he wasn't going anywhere, you could slow down, revel in the feel of each other, his soft, warm lips on your mouth like you'd always dream of when he was away. Tonight, you wouldn't be alone in your bed, he'd wrap you up in his arms and be yours, and you would be his. But for now the taste of him is your focus, and the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your skin is so welcome as he seeks gentle, tentative permission to deepen the kiss. You open for him, always looking for and finding ways to be closer. As your tongue dances against his, your fingers card through his hair. It's grown out a little and you smile against his teeth when his familiar grunt meets your ears as you give a sharp little tug on it and he bites your bottom lip in flirty retaliation.
His fingers hook around the back of your knee anchoring you to him. As if you're going anywhere. He drinks you in as the sun is setting, calloused fingertips trailing your bare arm and raising goosebumps in their wake as you make out like teenagers behind the bleachers.
"I love you," He says softly after a while when you part to catch a breath, forehead leaning against yours, "so goddamn much, baby."
"I love you too, Frank." You close your eyes, feeling his heartbeat under your fingers and trying to press the words in there, rebrand them deep and fresh.
"Can I take my woman to bed?" He asks you with a sly smile. "Because if I recall a certain conversation correctly, I promised her a whole lot of lovin' when I got home…"
"Mm I haven't forgotten. You've got it coming too y'know, Frankie." You trace your lips along his jaw causing him to let his head fall back and grant you the space to lightly nip and kiss at his neck. An appetizer of what's yet to come. He makes a low sound from deep in his chest and can't wait any longer, scooping you up and carrying you bridal style to the bedroom.
"I'm all yours."
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wonuwrites · 21 days
Text
ot13 Seventeen's Espresso Song Reaction
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Anyone else also OBSESSED with Sabrina Carpenter's "Espresso?" Literally so cunty and song of the summer <3 I thought this would be fun to write because I've been writing a lot of angst lately. I hope you enjoy. xo - @wonuwrites
Warning: Some are more suggestive than others: Wonwoo, Dino, Joshua, Woozi, and Mingyu's got pretty sexual especially so MDNI xo, Cursing as usually bc that's the person I am lmao.
A/N: Just like my 'We Can't Be Friends' reactions, I will be writing the scenarios x members from when lyrics come in. Hope that makes sense :)
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♡ DK: "Now he's thinkin' 'bout me, every night oh, Is it that sweet? I guess so."
Seokmin in general is so boyfriend coded but not even he predicted how down bad he got because of you. You never left his mind especially after your first kiss. You were his first and last thought every day. He vowed that he would do everything in his power to not fuck up anything with you. One evening while you were getting ready for bed your phone lit up and you saw your lovely boyfriends face. You couldn't help but giggle before picking up. "Hello Jagi~" "Hello Beautiful, I was just thinking about you." "Right before bed? That's so dirty, Seokminnie." This made him get flustered because he was trying to be cute but now he was horny and ahhhhh. You both then continued to try to out flirt the other which ended up having both of you giggly and blushed messes.
♡ Wonwoo: "Move it up, down, left, right, oh. Switch it up like like Nintendo."
Normally gaming sessions with Wonwoo would be fairly PG however tonight it got a bit more intense. There was something about the way his fingers were fingering his xbox controller's joystick you so aroused. You tried to hide how turned on you were getting but Wonwoo knew you all too well which is why he decided to tease you a little bit. He bit his lip and would groan when the game got a little "too difficult" and you swore you were about to come undone based off his fingers, his groans, his face, him, everything. After a bit it started to get a bit too much so you scooted closer to him and snuggled into him before giving a kiss to the base of his neck. He would chuckle before looking down at you. "Yes?" "Mmm, You know I love gaming with you but I kinda wanna play with a different kind of joystick now." "Say less," he would say before throwing the xbox controller to the side and pulling you into a kiss. It was going to be a fun night.
♡ Hoshi: "And I got this one boy, and he won't stop calling. When they act this way, I know I got them."
Your phone buzzed for what seemed like the fifth time that day but you couldn't help but smirk. Soonyoung and you had recently started talking about a week prior and last night you both had your first kiss and suddenly he just craved your lips and you. Some might find the clinginess to be a bit cringey but truth be told, you were ALSO craving him. The way his lips tasted last night was enough to get you love drunk and obsessed. When he admitted to you that he couldn't help but think about the kiss you both shared you wanted to do a little dance because you knew he felt the same way. "Hello?" You said after answering the phone. You could hear him smile as he said his greeting as well. "(Y/N), I know I just called a while ago but I was just wondering if you wanted to, I don't know hang out tonight after practice?" This made you giggle before agreeing to hang out. After you both hung up he did a cheesy ass fist pump which gave Minghao and Seungkwan second hand embarrassment. They were happy for their friend but oh my god.
♡ Dino: "Too bad your ex don't do it for ya."
Chan was not someone to compare people. Especially when it came to his relationships. However, when he noticed that you would do certain things his ex wouldn't do he would become speechless. Like for instance, when he had a horrible day and you offered to help him relax by giving him a massage or hell a blowjob he would stare at you as if you just told him you stole Saturn for him. His ex would usually just say "that sucks, Channie" but you were offering to do things for him? Oh my god. When he saw you start putting your hair into a makeshift ponytail while getting on your knees he swore he fell in love all over again. He would lean down and kiss your lips before letting you undo his jeans and let Chan Jr come out to play. (lmfaooo i'm so sorry)
♡ Minghao: "Walked in and dream came trued it for ya."
When Minghao would think about his future, he always wanted someone to be understanding, loving, and caring. When you came along you matched all those things and he was absolutely shocked. You were his dream come true and on nights like these where you were both sat at your favorite cafe in the corner he couldn't help but be so thankful that his He would kiss your knuckles and just stare at you with such love in his eyes. You would blush at his loving glare and he would be like "why why why?" He would just tease you a bit which would make you even more flustered. This would make him smile and giggle which would cause you to giggle as well. After leaving the cafe, he would have your hand in his and would casually be swinging it as you both were talking about random topics. When you got to the car, he pulled you in and pressed a kiss to your lips before whispering a "thank you" to you.
♡ Joshua: "Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya."
You just had gotten out of the shower and you had a million and three butterflies storming your stomach. You and Jisoo had made plans to have a sleepover after a long time and you didn't want to mess anything up. You decided to spray his favorite perfume of your on you with matching lotion. As you were finishing up getting ready you heard your front door open. "Baby, I'm home." you heard your handsome as hell boyfriend call out. This made you smile wide as you made your way out of the bathroom and saw he had a bouquet of flowers for you. Just that gesture made you want to jump his bones. He smiled at you and came over and gave you a hug and a kiss. He groaned in the kiss as he could smell how good you smelled. He looked down at you and it gave you butterflies. "You feel so soft." He whispered which made you feel giggle. "Thanks, I was in the middle of lotioning up." "oh?" "yeah, I couldn't reach one place though, can you help me?" He smirked as he led you to your room which made both of you break out into giggles.
(I had writers block for Joshua's :'(, I will rewrite it one day. ~)
♡ Vernon: "I know I Mountain Dew it for ya."
It was one of those days where both Hansol and you were trying to annoy the other but in a sexy way. Today's weapon? Really awful puns or pick up lines. The rules were easy, 1. You couldn't laugh at what the other person said, however you could laugh at your own pun. 2. You can't reuse the same pun. 3. You had 30 seconds to make the pun 3. You laugh, cringe, or take too long you strip an item of clothing. You both thought this was fun and would make a competition out of it. Today you were both not doing too well and were both down to your underwear. You both were a bit turned on but neither of you wanted to fold or lose that quickly. It was your turn and you honestly were struggling to think of anything. You had about 10 seconds left when you noticed an empty Mountain Dew bottle on the dresser. You giggled before pointing at it and shouting, "Just call me a soda pop because I really want to mountain dew it for ya." This made Hansol snort and cover his face. You put both your arms in the air to cheer your victory as Hansol took off his briefs and showed his member. "Well soda pop, I think it's time to mountain dew it." He didn't have to tell you twice.
♡ Seungkwan: "That morning coffee I brewed it for ya."
Acts of service was one of your main love languages. When Seungkwan stayed over one night, you decided to wake up a little earlier and made him an Iced Americano. You decided to brew a medium espresso and asked your Alexa to play Sabrina's new song "Espresso." You were so caught up in the song you didn't even notice him staring at you dancing and singing along to the song. He stared at you with admiration as you danced to your own choreography that was sliiiiightly off beat but he'd never tell you that. He loved how in your element you were. When you turned around while spinning you almost died of embarrassment which made him put a hand to his mouth to try to stop his laugh. "You are precious," he would whisper as you continued to die on the floor lmaooo.
♡ Woozi: "One touch and I brand newed it for ya."
Jihoon is very particular with who he is touchy with. Physical touch is not one of his favorite things in the world. However, that partially changed once you entered his life. Each touch whether sexual or casual made him feel like he was on fire and was just pure ecstacy when he was with you. One night, he was a bit more touchy than normal which made you raise an eyebrow. Normally it was you who would initiate any type of physical touch but this time it was a happy surprise. You kissed his nose while giggling before questioning if he wanted anything. The question made him blush and hide into the crook of your neck before admitting, "Can you touch me back? I need your hands." You smirked before wrapping your arms around him. "where do you need me, baby?" "Anywhere, I'm all yours."
♡ Jeonghan: "Say you can't sleep, baby I know, That's that me espresso."
Anyone who knows Jeonghan knows this man loves sleep. If he could he would sleep forever. Sleep is just so nice and he loves it so fucking much. That's why he along with everyone was shocked when you came along and he was a lot more alert and was just so addicted to you. He would playfully deny being as whipped when you were not around but when you were around and people would tease him he would just giggle nervously which would make you blush. Never in a thousand years would you think that you, (Y/F/N), would have this kind of effect on a man. Especially a man like Jeonghan. One night he was at your front door kissing you after a successful date. He kept smiling into the kisses which made you giggle. "I could do this forever," he would whisper which would make you giggle even more. "We need to go to sleep, baby," you would try before he kissed you again which would make both of you giggle. "I can't sleep when your lips taste this good though," he would tease before kissing you again. You pulled away before teasingly quoting Sabrina by saying "that's that me espresso." He would just laugh before pulling you back in again before saying, "you have no idea."
♡ Jun: "Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger."
The way you had Jun wrapped around your finger made his own members assume you did witchcraft. You were both so whipped for each other but he was a bit more obvious about it. If you needed a drink, he would be like "say less," and get up and get you your beverage of choice. If any of his members teased him, he'd just be like "I don't see you dating anyone," which would make everyone crack up and Jeonghan applauding him. You honestly loved the fact he loved you how he did. You found him so cute. When you told him that he would just giggle and blush which would make you fall for him even harder. It made you want to prove to him that the feelings he felt for you were also mutual. Which trust me, he knew. <3
♡ S. Coups: "My twisted humor make him laugh so often."
Due to the taboo that unfortunately plagues South Korea still with idols dating, you and Seungcheol had to play it cool if you were ever on variety shows together. Normally it was okay, however today everything you did just made him laugh and vise versa. To onlookers, it looked like you both were mutual friends because of the idol world but to both of your groups, they were worried that one of you would fuck up and belly flop into a scandal. When one of the MC's jokingly made a comment about Seungcheol acting whipped toward you, you would quip, "it won't last long. Don't worry." which would make everyone around you laugh. Seungcheol knew you were attempting to be self deprecating but regardless, off this variety show he was going to prove how long he was planning on staying.
♡ Mingyu: "My honey bee, come and get this pollen."
It only took one look for Mingyu to know what you wanted. He would be sitting at the table on a facetime call with one of the members and you would walk out into the hallway and stare at him. He would look up and smile at you before realizing you were wearing a fairly skimpy robe and raising an eyebrow. You would wink before walking back into your shared room. You would hear him curse before saying goodbye to whoever and literally run down the hall to the room. He'd practically tackle you because he was so excited to make love to his baby.
PS this took so long for me to write bc I kept dancing in my chair to the song instead of writing. I'm sorry to my besties who been waiting LOL I will edit tomorrow when I feel better about myself <3
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annwrites · 15 days
Text
i've wanted this for so long
— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: you & shane make love for the first time
— tags: angst, shane is desperately in love with you & has been waiting for this
— tw: depressive thoughts, sex
— word count: 2,229
— a/n: it's finally here! | find my other posts concerning shane, which take place before & after this, here
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It felt like since the world fell apart, that there wasn't a moment that you weren't filled with utter terror. Always waiting for the next tragedy to strike. But this? What you were about to ask of Shane?
It didn't matter if he'd already made you an offer...and mentioned it once more during target practice. You were petrified as you stood across the camp staring in his direction as he sorted through the duffle bag of firearms and ammo, trying to come up with the right way to say it.
You worry that perhaps he's now changed his mind. What if he doesn't want to anymore? And when you ask...is the camp really the best place to do it? What if someone overhears? What would they think?
And while he'd told you he'd moved past whatever he'd felt for Lori—whatever they'd had—you weren't so sure.
You suppose it doesn't matter either way. It'll be one thing: sex. No feelings attached. Just...just something you wanted to experience. To know what it felt like. A brief release.
You'd lied awake tossing and turning nearly all night, debating with yourself. You'd tried, in earnest, to talk yourself out of it. Told yourself you were being stupid. Selfish. You'd torn yourself apart until you were in tears.
He may've made it sound like—that night on the porch—it wouldn't just be 'getting laid' to him, but you knew otherwise. You were so...worthless and weak.
It doesn't matter that he told you he saw you as anything but. He was a leader. You, a follower. He'd kept everyone safe, had bothered to waste his time saving your life over and over. Meanwhile, you did meaningless chores all day.
Why had he ever bothered giving you the time of day in the first place? Why had he ever glanced twice in your direction? You can't wrap your head around it.
You could never mean something more to someone. Not that you want to to him. You know he's...beyond your grasp.
You shake your head, huffing, fighting back tears again. God, you were absolutely pathetic.
And it's the very reason you finally march over to him, ready for him to tell you no. That he had no idea what he was thinking making someone like you such an offer in the first place.
You want the rejection. You want him to hurt you. Badly. You want to be proven right: that you're nothing.
It'll make letting go of this idiotic idea that much easier.
Shane doesn't even see you standing across the picnic table at first.
You clasp your hands nervously in front of you. "Shane."
He looks up to you. "Was thinkin' 'bout gettin' these rifles cleaned up and sortin' through the ammo. Not sure how much we've got left in here. If you want to help, you can-"
"I want you to do it."
He stops, the pistol in his hand slipping from his grip back into the bag. He stares at you for a moment. "What?"
Please, be as harsh as possible, you think.
"I want you to take my virginity."
He blinks at you, dumbfounded. And then a slow smile spreads across his lips.
You hope he's about to mock you for ever taking his offer seriously in the first place. You know he's about to.
You don't blame him.
He comes around the table to stand in front of you. He gently takes your hand in his. "You do?"
You nod.
The look on his face softens and you suddenly feel confused.
Why isn't he being mean to you for this?
"When?" He asks in a hopeful whisper.
"N-now...?"
He reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "Where?"
Had...had he actually meant it, then?
"I...I don't know." You can't think.
"I know a place."
"Oh." Had he thought ahead? Been planning for it all this time?
He chuckles. "I uh...I need to grab somethin' from my tent real quick. Wait here for me?"
You nod.
You stand there taken completely aback. How...how could he actually want this with you? To be the one to do it? You saw it as more of a burden on him than anything.
A chore.
You're broken from spiraling thoughts of telling him to forget it, that you've changed your mind; made a mistake, by him taking your hand in his and leading you away from the farm, a blanket tucked under his other arm.
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Shane had led you well away from the house and into a clearing in the middle of the woods. And it was beautiful.
Vibrant green canopies of tree leaves were overhead, the sun shining through them, casting rays of light across the forest floor. Birds sung a melody all around you, and a cool breeze kissed your skin.
You look to him and watch as he fans out the blanket he'd brought, smoothing it across the grass.
Finally, he stands again.
Before he can speak, you do so first.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
He gives you a quizzical look. "I should be asking you that. Why're you askin' me, though, darlin'?"
"I don't understand you," you blurt out.
He raises a brow.
You continue. "Don't...don't you see this as more of a burdensome chore than anything else?"
Sadness for you flashes across his features. "How could I ever see makin' love you as that?" He cups your cheeks in his hands then.
"Making...love..." You struggle to wrap your head around him seeing it as that.
His voice becomes a mere whisper. "I've wanted this for so long. Have I not made my feelings for you clear yet?"
You blink up at him in response.
"Then let me show you. Right now."
Shane crushes his lips to yours, cupping the back of your head, holding you to him, terrified that if he lets go for even a moment, you'll run and this...this will be over. For good.
He'd waited for you for weeks, and months, and now—now—here you were. Finally.
You had finally come to him on your own. Had finally asked him for himself. Asked him to be the one man you gave this precious part of yourself to.
How could he not love you for that? How could he not otherwise?
He slides his other hand along your hip, until his palm is pressed firmly to the small of your back, bringing your body closer to his own. He flicks his tongue against your lips, asking you for entrance.
And you grant it.
He flicks his tongue again, against yours, silently encouraging you to enjoy this. To make the most of this—of all of it—of him.
He pulls away for a moment, reaching down to his belt, until your hands come to rest over his.
He looks at you, heart sinking. "Do you want to stop?"
You shake your head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, then back down.
He drops his hands and yours take over, gently unbuckling his belt.
Meanwhile, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you next unzip and unbutton his pants.
He toes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head, then stepping out of his pants next.
Once he's clad in nothing but his boxers, erection firmly present, he slides his hands up your hips, pulling your shirt off as well.
He reaches to the back of you, gently unclasping your bra and you cover yourself as it slips off of your arms.
He shakes his head, his eyes searching for yours. "You don't need to hide from me."
"What...what if you don't like how I look...once I'm naked?"
He hates that you're worried about such a thing in the first place, but understands.
"What're you worried about, babydoll? Some stretch marks? Do you want to know what a man thinks when a naked woman is in front of him?"
You shrug.
"Shit, she's naked."
You give a small laugh at that and he's glad to see you smile.
"A woman giving you her naked body is a gift. Any man who sees it otherwise never deserved you in the first place. At that," he says, unbuttoning your jeans. "He ain't a man if judging your body is the only thing on his mind when you're like that in front of him."
Finally, you toe off your shoes as well.
He gently tugs your jeans down past your hips, then your legs, until they've pooled around your feet.
You step out of them and Shane lays them to the side.
He stands again and you lower your arms.
He grips either of your hips, thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your sides as he studies your nearly-naked form, wanting desperately the unwrap the rest of his gift by removing your panties.
He looks you over, eyes dilating with lust.
"Sweetheart, I don't think you've got anythin' to be worried about."
He looks into your eyes and his lip twitches when he sees how flushed your face is.
He crushes his lips back to yours, sliding his hand down your stomach, past the waistline of your panties, his palm coming to rest against your sex, which is already pleasantly wet.
He runs two fingers between your folds and you whimper against his lips, your tongue slipping inside his mouth.
He does it again and your hips jerk, bringing you closer to him as you throw your arms around his neck, breasts pressed firmly to his chest.
He groans as he continues to tease that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until his palm is covered in you.
Shane then reaches down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around him as he sets both of you on the ground.
He lies you back as he rests on his haunches, studying every inch of you.
He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, looks at you, and when you give him a small nod, slips them down your legs, tossing them to the side, his hands spreading your legs further apart.
He licks his lips. "You're so damn perfect."
He leans down, kissing your lips fervently, but gently. He then presses hot kisses to your neck, then your shoulder, your breasts—he teases your nipples with the tip of his tongue until your hips are rising up to rub against his erection, desperate for any form of friction. He them moves to your stomach, spearing his tongue as he licks and teases, then moves lower until his face is between your thighs.
He throws your legs over his shoulders, and you gasp as he presses his open mouth against you, tasting you over and over, lapping at you like he can't get nearly enough. He spreads your soaked folds with his tongue, teasing against your tight entrance. He then flicks his tongue against your clit over and over, and your hips buck against him—his large calloused hands holding firmly against them—as you fuck yourself against his mouth.
He eventually begins to press wet hot kisses to your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of you spread open before him, pink and glistening. And the sounds mewling from your mouth... He doesn't know if he's ever been so fucking turned on before.
Finally, he stands quickly enough to remove his boxers, reaching to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his pants and your eyes widen as he rolls it onto his considerable length. All you can think is that much girth will be excruciating.
He lays back down on top of you, erection in his right hand, rubbing against your entrance as his other smooths hair away from your face as he kisses and kisses you. Finally, he begins to ease into you, inch by inch.
You do your utmost to relax, positioning one of your legs over his back and it helps with the pain, even minimally.
He stops halfway inside of you to allow you to adjust.
"You alright, angel?"
You nod, biting your lip. You wiggle your hips, trying to get more comfortable.
"Want me to keep goin'?"
He voice is husky, his words said between breaths.
You nod.
Once he's eased himself the rest of the way inside of you, he presses his forehead against your shoulder. "Jesus Christ," he whispers.
You wrap your arms around him, massaging the back of his head with your fingers.
He fights against his body jerking as he feels you clench around him once, twice...
He looks at you, and in that moment...something has changed. For both of you.
He kisses you. "This won't be enough for me. I can't just do this once and be expected to forget about it. To move on. Getting over her was one thing. But if I lose you? It'll damn-near kill me." He twines his fingers between yours as he begins to move inside of you. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me," he grunts, slipping out then back into you. "Tell me this is forever."
You wrap your other leg around him and he sinks even deeper. You sigh, gripping his chin gently in your hand, wanting nothing more than to look into his eyes as you give him this promise.
"I'm yours, Shane. Forever."
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wongyuuu · 8 months
Text
seventeen as song from lover (ts)
a/n: for this, i'll be giving songs and lyrics to each of the members, as well as small plots based on those lyrics. i don't plan to write all of these, but they are still my ideas (as basic as some of them might be). so if you are interested in writing one of them, you can message me about it. if you want to read one of them you can send in a request and i'll write for you
red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore | midnights
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• Seungcheol ➝ Cruel Summer Fever dream high in the quiet of the night You know that I caught it (Oh yeah, you're right, I want it) Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it (Oh yeah, you're right, I want it) ↳ Seungcheol was infamous, the bad boy like you see in the movie, and god you wanted him.
• Jeonghan ➝ Afterglow This ultraviolet morning light below Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh↳ Jeonghan was never one to lose his patience with people, least of all you. But one day a fight gets out of control and it leaves you wondering if your relationship has come to an end. ↣ read here
• Joshua ➝ Lover And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years? ↳ you’re scared you might be falling in love a little way quickly for Joshua
• Jun ➝ Cornelia Street And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again ↳ A year after the end of your relationship with Jun, you go back to the small apartment you used to share. To your surprise, Jun is next door to you.
• Hoshi ➝ Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince I counted days, I counted miles To see you there, to see you there It's been a long time coming, but ↳ one day you got a letter in the mail by mistake from someone named soonyoung. You spend years going back and forth with the letters until you finally meet each other.
• Wonwoo ➝ False God I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me, honey Hell is when I fight with you ↳ you and Wonwoo never fought before, at least not to the point where both of you were screaming at each other.
• Jihoon ➝ The Archer I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you ↳ for years you had a one-sided crush on Jihoon. You planned to confess your feelings many times but failed at every single opportunity.
• Minghao ➝ London Boy Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride Babes, don't threaten me with a good time ↳ Minghao is always one to see the beauty where most people see none, so when he drags you out of your apartment on a particularly rainy day you don’t complain, sure that whatever it is that he planned is a perfect date.
• Mingyu ➝ Paper Rings I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this ↳ Mingyu had always been your best friend and that line had never been crossed before, then, one day, you woke up naked in his bed with a vivid memory of the previous night. ↣ read here
• Seokmin ➝ I Think He Knows He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans It's like I'm 17, nobody understands No one understands ↳ there was nothing in the world you loved more than Seokmin’s smile.
• Vernon - You Need To Calm Down And I ain't tryna mess with your self-expression But I've learned a lesson that stressin' and obsessin' 'bout somebody else is no fun ↳ nothing can make Vernon mad but you’re adamant about proving him wrong
• Seungkwan ➝ Death By a Thousand Cuts I get drunk, but it's not enough ’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby ↳ in which Seungkwan drunk calls you, his ex, and finally tells you all the feelings he kept to himself for months.↣ read here
• Chan ➝ Daylight I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night And now I see daylight ↳ it was impossible not to compare Chan to a ray of sunshine, especially after he was the one who brought you back to life
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taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @ho34gojo, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @mhlsymlysn, @swinterr, @immabecreepin, @uniq-tastic, @miriamxsworld
if you were tagged, please consider reblogging
if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form
a/n: somehow three of these could become smut and i'm thinking of writing them that way
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adaptacy · 9 months
Note
Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲
hiiii anon! here you go :)
no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.
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It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.
"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."
"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.
"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.
Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.
You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.
With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."
"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.
"I have a family."
"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.
"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."
"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.
"So? We'll get to know each other again."
"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.
There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"
"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"
"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"
"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"
"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"
"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"
"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."
"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.
"That's all I am to you now, huh?"
"What?"
"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"
You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."
"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.
"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.
"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."
"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."
He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.
"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."
"Sweetpea, I-"
"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.
But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.
Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.
Why he didn't, you had no clue.
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ceilidho · 4 months
Note
tell me something nuclear winter ghoap NOW!! (bo)
BO!!!!! ok you wanna read what i've got so far?? it's not very much but here's what i have for my project that's tentatively titled "permafrost"
At first, it comes as a series of lights in the distance, a gentle rain like a cascade of falling stars. And then, it goes dark.
It happens over the course of several hours. By the time the dust settles—and it never settles, never really settles, always hangs in the air and renders it unbreathable, unlivable—and the sirens quiet and the last few screams die off, there’s hardly anything left. Hardly anything left living. 
The initial blast doesn’t reach up the country and, for that, Johnny lasts the months after the first nuclear bombs are dropped. Somedays, he can barely recollect the hours after the initial impact; they come back in foggy chunks, stumbling out of his house, boots crunching over the glass that had been blown clean out of the windows, covering his eyes against the flash of light and staring out into the distance at the mushrooming cloud of smoke just cresting the horizon. The bottom falling out of him at the sight.
More bombs hit other parts of the continent, several in Russia, throughout Asia and down into Africa, and across the pond as well. The world goes up in flames in an hour. In his cabin up in the Scottish Highlands, crutches jammed under his arms in his haste to limp his way outside, he sees the blast and then hears it a minute or so later. A roar rippling through the air. 
It shatters the world. 
In the present day, the boat sways where it’s roped to the wharf, the waters choppy. Johnny sits on the deck in a foldout chair, fastening a new head onto his ax, fixing the metal wedge over the eye to hold it in place. The blade is cleaner than the one that’d just cracked, sharp from being run over the whetstone. He pulls his scarf back over his nose when it slips down his face.
His cabin in the Highlands hadn’t been a viable choice for longer than a few months, not after the cold had finally begun to set in. Too far up north. He’d made his way down south over the course of weeks, bringing with him only as much as he could carry. A bittersweet goodbye to the summer home of his youth, a hand laid flat against the door before turning on his heel and starting the long trek south.
It’s not any warmer farther down south, particularly around the coast where the wind gets bitterly cold, sinking into the bone. He’d found the boat on a whim, the only structure still relatively intact and, most importantly, isolated.
Making his home on an old boat might not win him any awards for brightest idea, but the downside to traveling further into the country, away from the untenable glacial weather up north, is that it coincides with the areas where the bombs were dropped, leaving limited options for shelter.
Months pass. Years pass. 
His ankle healed funny all those years ago from prolonged bouts of starvation before desperation kicked in and from traveling miles on foot. He’d driven a portion of the way down north until the roads had outlived their usefulness—asphalt cracked, chunks of bedrock spiking up out of the ground. The rest he’d managed with his crutches and a single backpack, leaving the car to rot some three hundred or so miles up the country.
It's some strange occurrence, Johnny thinks at age thirty-something (he’s lost count), that his lot be murky, for death to miscount. He witnesses an apocalypse and comes out the other side. Happenstance. Coincidence, that he’s discharged from the military not a month before the first bomb hits London and leaves a crater that never fills, that never heals. A pockmark in the earth. 
His lips twist bitterly. The price of a long life is a barbed and slick soul. 
​​Immortality sometimes occurs to him, or godship, but neither option rests well with him and Johnny wonders if this is how gods are born: not of sea foam but of inevitability, of miscalculation, of death's err, of smallness, of acorns he carried as a child through pastures behind his summer house.
He sniffs. Cuts that memory off at the quick.
Johnny gives himself a couple more minutes to fiddle around with the ax before looping it into the gear loops on his backpack and buckling it in.
[MISSING STUFF HERE]
Much of the city has returned to nature, rubble encased in snow and ice; the stores have long been looted or reduced to ash from the blast. 
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featherandferns · 11 months
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hii ik this isn’t a prompt but i’ve been sick all night like throwing up and really bad stomach pains and i’ve been mostly alone so i was wondering if maybe you could write something ab jj being there for you and comforting you if not that’s totally fine🩷🩷🩷
aw no! hope you feel better soon! i totally get what you mean; i've had this awful cold for a few days and today is the first time i manged to sleep right through the night without fever dreams. hope this is okay <3
(content warnings: mentions of vomitting/sickness)
When you wake suddenly in the night, it feels as though God has chosen your head to play pin-ball in. Your brain rattles in your skull, swaying from side to side as if you’re at sea, and you blink awake with a wince. Something’s not right.
That’s when the stomach cramps kick in. Acid churning and burning like someone’s shaken a bottle of soda. It’s hot suddenly. Overwhelmingly so. You move to kick away the blankets but the force of it makes everything so much worse. The pain in your head and stomach. The dizziness and the—
You’re going to be sick.
Darting out of bed, you rush to the bathroom, barely making it to the porcelain of the toilet in time. The cringe-worthy echo of vomiting bounces off the walls. There wasn’t any time to even flick on the lights. It seems as if your body is hell-bent on churning up and out every single morsel of food and drink in your stomach, and then some. Vaguely you register someone scraping back your hair and rubbing your back.
“Sorry,” you mumble against the cool seat of the toilet, for some reason.
“Don’t apologise,” JJ shushes. “You good?”
There’s no time to even shake your head before the next bout of nausea hits. It’s answer enough – no, I’m not good – and JJ pets you through it. He flushes the toilet when you stop. Momentarily leaves you on the floor as he kneels to fill up a glass of water from the sink, handing it down to you.
“Take small sips, m’kay?”
You give a shaky nod. Your body is reacting like you’ve downed three cups of coffee in ten minutes. Shivering and jittery. Great - here comes the fever.
“Maybe it’s something I ate,” you think aloud in a slur.
“Dunno. There’s lots of bugs going round at the moment,” JJ says gently.
The ground seems nice despite it not having been cleaned in at least a year. You curl up on the cool tiles. JJ shrugs off the tee shirt he was wearing in bed, laying it over you as a make-shift blanket.
“I’m hot.”
“Damn straight you are.”
You don’t have the energy to laugh, but there’s a faint, quivering smile on your face. JJ strokes your shoulder as he sits beside you, watching you, eyes heavy with concern.
“You’re covered in goosebumps.”
“I feel like I’m boiling, though,” you tell him, shrugging off the tee-shirt.
JJ relents. He grabs a flannel from the sink side and dabs at your sweating forehead. It seems that even the risk that this might be viral isn’t of concern to him.
After about ten minutes of the two of you sat in the dark bathroom – you shaking on the floor and JJ stroking your shoulder, forearm and head – he manages to coax you back to the pull-out. Drenches the flannel with cold water and lays it across your head. Digs about in the cupboards for some (semi-out of date) anti-nausea pills. Helps you take sips of water from time to time. Once he’s done faffing around the house, doting on you, he climbs into bed and pulls you to lie against him. You gladly do so. There’s no complaints when your clammy skin hits his chest, or when your jitteriness keeps the two of you awake. JJ strokes your shoulders and back, pets your hair and softly scratches at your scalp. You’ve never seen him so mellow and calm. So focused on one thing: caring for you.
Somehow, you drift off. When you come to, JJ’s managed to sneak out of bed. He’s in the kitchen – you can make him out standing over the hob through your wave-like vision – and he’s stirring something in a pan.
“JayJ?”
He glances over at your raspy call.
“Hey,” he smiles. “Making you some soup. Drink more water for me, please.”
If you weren’t ill, you’d tell him to can it and to not tell you what to do. But it feels nice to be doted on sometimes, especially when you’re poorly. So, you oblige and sip at the water. It does help sooth your stinging throat, messed-up from the sickness. The stomach cramps are starting to ease and it makes you wonder if it was food-poisoning after all.
“I sent the others out whilst you get better, by the way,” JJ says. He’s pouring the soup into a bowl now.
“You kicked them out?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t use those words exactly, but yeah, pretty much,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes. There’s a faint, tired smile on your face.
JJ wanders over with the soup. He helps you sit up and takes perch next to you. You sip at the warm food, humming gratefully as your stomach sighs with gratitude for having something to focus on.
“What kinda soup is this?”
“Old Maybank family secret,” he says.
You quirk a brow at him, unconvinced.
“Campbell.”
That makes you smile. “Knew it.”
Once you’ve eaten as much as you can, you sigh and snuggle back into the covers. More painkillers and another wet flannel, and you fall asleep by JJ’s side. He doesn’t want to overheat you, so he just lets his feet tangle with yours. As you nap, he messes on his phone. No complaints that he’s missing a day of surfing, when the waves are meant to be the best today. No complaints that he’s sleep deprived from looking after you. No complaints that you’re a sweaty, slurring mess. Just you and him, and the unrestful rest that comes as you wait for the stomach bug to pass.
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CW: OC talk + Rambling / Blood / Gore / Censored Nudity (character sheet) / Mentions of Drugging
(idk why these warnings are so intense, but I swear it's all just silly OC talk T^T)
I’m kinda sorta working on more (comprehensible) TS OC stuff in between studying right now… I wanna hurry and talk about them but without info dumping (if given the opportunity I will without hesitation 😔…) because in terms of the best stories I have conjured up for OCs in general Naudedel and Noble are surprisingly good and I’m very excited to share how deranged they are together…
Right now it’s just about making Naudy readable and working on extra fun stuff… like monsters!
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I’m trying to work out his “monster” form…. The concept is there, but the execution is just not ticking the right boxes for me right now… also, the line art at the end is old and probably will go unused, but thought it was something to add here because like hehe look at my deranged son :)
When it comes to the writing I'm going to split it into two chapters. The first half will be a summary+ of his upbringing, and the second on how he fucked up his arm and why. Just enough info to get a read on what his deal is pretty much. I just need to edit the first chapter and rewrite some parts then it's ready to annoy the world!
I'm trying to think of a good design for his original mother... I'm thinking dark hair and milf (¬‿¬)・゚✧ ... honestly I need to start drawing out the designs for all the other TS OCs I've accumulated over the year (?) here's a fun list-
Hickery (bloodhound OC... dilf oc...I've already been made fun of for his name, but it stuck to me so I'm keeping it!)
Maya (another bloodhound OC)
Cove (Hound's ex-husband)
Cetcher's gf + informant, who still needs a good name...
and that one guy! (doesn't have a name yet... but is important in Hound's part of the story... she bashed some of his guys in the back of head with a hammer... it was a whole thing... Leander got involved... gang war stuff, don't worry about it...)
There are technically more OCs, like that Hightown lady Noble befriended during their first few weeks in town. However, I'm not sure if I'm including her in the final plot meeting. But yeah, anyway I'm rambling so on to Noble news!
For Noble, everything is plotted out in advance surprisingly…character playlist and all... just need to find the words to explain their story other than “parasite with a weird God complex feels guilty” I do have some old memes and art of them though!
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Noble curse stuff...
Childhood cult stuff...
Current reality...
Poor person masquerade dress censored for tumblr...
Noble folks!
I actually wrote out a whole little thing for the black dress in a what-if scenario of...
"Oh! ,,,What if there is a masquerade in Hightown and Noble sneaks in to get some information on a certain individual who might know a thing or two about curses, but turns out the whole event if devious and their all eating babies or some fucked up shit,,,, and what if while sneaking around they see Leander and are like 'what's he doing here?' and they lock eyes but he ignores them as he ducks into a closed off area with some important looking people,,, once he comes out he walks past them and they lock eyes again as he leaves,,, Noble chases after him and once they catch up they get to see his cold and detached side right before he hides them from the other guest,,, after they talk for a bit, or more like Leander talking over them and their worries as he slowly wipes their memories while they protest that it's not fair only to wake up the next day back in their room,,, thankfully their curse is good for more then just silly bouts of insanity so they have a hunch on what happened, everyone around them who knew where they went the night before were obviously worried and the general consensus is that they might have been drugged and should go check in with Kuras just in case (wow this is getting long...) but on their way to the clinic they run into Leander and of course discusses their current problem with him ,,, words are exchanged,,, a kabedon may occur,,, as he whispers in their ear,,, all fun till he erases their memories again, or at least tires before receiving a little gift that makes him look at this whole curse thing from a different angle." DEEP BREATH! ...Anyways... yeah.
But it was taking so long to write out that I ended up losing motivation so yeah... like everything else we will pray the motivation comes back so I can finish that... plus who knows, I might make an x reader version of it if I can. (don't hold your breath... I'm extremely slow)
Anyway, I'm gonna to shut up now because I've yapped enough. I'mma make some hibiscus tea (ironic) and head to bed... Night night, if you made it this far, thank you for listening to my craziness <3
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zvdvdlvr · 11 months
Text
- in which they watch you die
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☆ - featuring :: arthur morgan, john marston, dutch van der linde
☆ - warnings :: death, coarse language, death threats, smoking, murder, reader's gender is not specified, pov changes
☆ - k.j.'s diary says... this writing is both short and not my best work. sean maguire, javier escuella, charles smith will be in part two
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☆ - ARTHUR MORGAN
my fault, all my goddamn fault was all arthur could think when he watched your body fall in slow motion to the ground.
"arthur!" dutch called over the loud gunfire. arthur was unable to tear his gaze from the warm blood leaving the four bullet holes in your side dripping onto the ground.
he told you to come into the bank, to help him get up to the roof to snipe the guards. he told you to leave the relatively safe position you were in to come help arthur with a job he could do perfectly fine alone. he just wanted you out of there and quite unfortunately, you died because of that.
"get up to the roof, son!" dutch yelled, shoving arthur out to the alley of the saint denis bank.
"'m sorry, y/n. god i am sorry. i ain't- christ. . . i ain't mean to getcha killed. shit, i ain't even know where you were," arthur mumbled. he climbed three ladders before he got to the spot that would do him well.
he killed every guard he saw with a headshot, spilling the oily bastards' brains onto the ground and walls of the glorified 'city of the future'.
not five minutes later the man arthur called his brother was shot in front of him too.
ain't that just the way, arthur thought. the man's jaw was sore from how hard he was clenching it, and his eyes stung like nothing else.
"let's go, damnit!"
the gunslinger was pulled to his feet.
arthur was pushed forward. "we need to get out now so there aren't more dead later," dutch said.
and that was that. . . for now.
☆ - JOHN MARSTON
it was completely preventable, what happened to you. at least from what john heard.
of fucking course he had to be locked up the day you died.
he had looked around when he got back, a wry smile pulling his lips thin. past arthur's shoulders, past sadie's unsmiling face. "where's y/n?" he asked, smile faltering.
sadie swallowed, eying arthur. "uh. . . y/n-"
"is dead," arthur finished. "agent numbnuts, uh, ambushed us. we were all good up until the end, adrenaline. . . adrenaline wore off. y/n fell behind me," arthur explained, avoiding eye contact with john. "they showed me two bullet holes they'd been hidin'. . . y/n died in my arms. talkin' 'bout you." arthur clenched his jaw and sniffed.
sadie looked uncomfortable. she'd gotten close with y/n and she had been crying alongside arthur while y/n spent their last minutes just talking with the pair. it's been so long since i've just talked with someone. ain't know how much i missed it, they had said. miss you asshats already, was one of the last things that had bubbled up from y/n's bloody lips.
"we're sorry, john."
"did- did you bury them?" john's voice wavered dangerously.
sadie nodded. "we can, uh. . . show you."
the rest of the day was a blur. a mix of voices, the slur of a familiar voice. john didn't know what to do.
☆ - DUTCH VAN DER LINDE
"goddamn it, y/n!" dutch yelled. the man's voice was hoarse from lack of sleep and water. his irritation stemmed from plans going wrong, scores being set-ups, and his own gang showing slowly showing their distrust.
"what, dutch?" y/n asked tiredly. they massaged their temple.
their most recent argument was because of y/n tackling dutch to prevent him from being shot in the shoulder. because of this, dutch missfired his bullet and eventually their getaway stagecoach was blown up.
"you have nothing to say?! no apologies!? we could be halfway to tahiti right now, y/n! if it weren't for you-"
y/n scoffed in disbelief and ran a hand down their face. "if it weren't for me saving your life? how much do you even know about tahiti, dutch? i trust you, i have faith in you, i believe in the power of this gang but please. we need to take our time with these pla-"
"don't you tell me what to do!" dutch strode over to y/n who was shaking their head.
y/n- clearly done with the conversation- made their way to their horse. from the faint lamplight, y/n could make out javier and charles both watching the interaction. micah tipped his hat to y/n; micah didn't talk to y/n enough to hate them. john watched dutch and y/n from the fire, already sensing something in his gut.
the anger radiating off of dutch was downright murderous. y/n hadn't even done anything wrong! john gnawed on his lip, one hand unconsciously drifting to his holstered gun.
"we are not done talking about this!" dutch grabbed y/n's arm and yanked hard.
"fuck!" y/n cried, instinctively jerking away from dutch's touch. y/n tore their arm from dutch's hold and, because of all the power that y/n used to get away from dutch, fell forward. a loud snap followed right after y/n collided with the ground.
a morbid choking sound fell from y/n's lips as their head made sharp contact with a rock. y/n felt blood rush to their head because of the odd angle y/n landed in: their head was below their broken legs.
dutch stood, parayzed in his spot. blood flowed out of the side of y/n's head, sliding down the dirt in rivulets. "i'm sorry," he whispered.
"y/n!" javier called, running to where y/n lie. charles followed closely behind, along with john and arthur.
charles set both of their lookout lamps by y/n's head. "be calm, y/n, you're okay," charles soothed, clutching their hand.
javier grasped y/n's other flailing arm, tears springing into his eyes. "you're okay. por favor- please- keep your eyes open," he begged. "mrs. grimshaw will be here soon, yeah? she will get you all fixed up."
arthur shouted for the women to hurry up because he knew y/n probably wouldn't survive this.
charles kept mostly quiet, checking y/n's pulse at random. javier was telling a story, talking about all the beautiful sunsets and sunrises in mexico. john waited off to the side, watching tilly and mrs. grimshaw and abigail share a look before giving arthur a terrible look.
dutch fled. he got on his bright white horse and left. he didn't know how to deal with thaf. he just killed you. you are dead because of him. dutch felt tears roll down his face. he felt the softness of his horse's hair. and he also felt the burning two foot hole in his chest because of the hollow, fearful look in your eyes after hitting your head.
on and on he rode, never stopping and never stalling. with no destination in mind, dutch figured he'd ride till morning then go back to help bury you.
you. you are his new ghost.
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T_T
This is so touching!
I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this. But then I was like, I've already made them wait long enough, and what's the harm of posting two things in one day?
Felt it'd be nice to have Part 6 be a little less plot-driven. You'll see what I mean
-------
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
QPR, Part 6
“[Hero], come on!” the villain called, from where they laid sprawled on the couch. “You said it wouldn’t take that long!”
“Hold on just a sec.” The hero’s voice floated from the kitchen. “They’ll be done soon.”
The villain scowled and flopped back on the pillows. “You never see Do-yun making Ha-rin wait around forever.”
“That’s because tv shows have this magical trick called the jump cut.” There was the sound of an oven door closing. “We'll just let them bake, and then they’ll be so good you won’t even remember the wait.”
The villain groaned.
Then they heard the sound of running water, and burst up, rushing into the kitchen. “Are you doing my dishes?!”
The hero jerked their head up like they’d been caught vandalizing. “I was just going to do a few while we waited.”
“Okay, one, you do not need to do my chores on k-drama night. And two, how long is the baking going to take?!”
The hero glanced to their phone on the counter. “’Bout fifty more minutes.”
The villain gaped. “That’s most of an episode!”
“Well I didn’t want us to have to pause the show during a big scene. This way we can – Jesus your hands are freezing!”
The villain had come up behind the hero to hug them, pressing their hands on the hero’s stomach.
“Come watch tv dear,” they said into the hero’s shoulder. “I’m cold without you.”
The hero shook their head, but also cracked a small grin. “You’re evil.”
The villain matched their expression and pressed their hands more. “Of course I am. It’s the only way I can get you to cuddle me.”
In the end, the brownies were, in fact, good enough to make the villain forget why they were annoyed in the first place.
---
“Oh my god,” the hero said.
The villain fidgeted. “Do you like it?”
“Like it?” The hero looked up. “[Villain], it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The hero was holding a small fluffy teddy bear, its fur the black, grey, white, and purple of the asexual flag.
The villain beamed. “Really?”
The hero nodded gleefully. “He needs a name.”
“I think the tag says its name is ‘Fuzzy’ or something. You could – ”
“Ferdinand,” the hero decided, assessing the stuffed animal. “Ferdinand Bearnsby. The next Prince of Denmark.”
The villain wrapped the hero in a hug. “I’m so glad you like it.”
---
“So is [Villain], like, a law-abiding citizen now?” the hero’s friend asked.
“Uh, sort of?” The hero gazed around at the restaurant’s outdoor seating area. “They still break minor laws, but I think they’ve really toned it down to stress me out less.”
“Hey, that’s great.”
The hero swirled their iced tea with their straw. “Yeah, I guess.”
The friend quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t agree?”
The hero sighed. “Okay, so don’t ever tell [Villain] this, but I think their ‘devil may care’ attitude is maybe, kinda . . . a little bit cool?”
The friend grinned. “Oh really?”
In return, the hero’s smile was sheepish. “It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I secretly wish that they’d behave more like their old villainous self sometimes.”
“Hm, well I suppose that – ”
Something enormous crashed into the street, making all the dishes clatter. The hero and their friend both whipped their heads around to see the cause of the noise.
“[Villain]!”
“Oh hi [Hero]!” The fifty-foot tall mech waved at the two of them. “Fancy meeting you here. How did you know it was me?”
“[Villain], why are you in a giant robot?!”
“Isn’t it cool?” The villain spun around, their heavy feet cracking the pavement and the machine's hinges screeching with every movement. “I finally figured out how to get the power system working.”
“This is illegal.”
The villain laughed. “Ah okay, I see the issue. But, fear not my darling, for I have” – they pulled out a sheet of paper that looked miniscule in their enormous metal hands – “a permit!”
Soon after, the mech continued walking down the street, while the hero followed them, shouting at the top of their lungs.
The friend watched them go, and then chuckled. Those two maniacs were perfect for each other.
---
A-spec stories taglist:
@feline17ff , @piept , @doublericenobeans , @vioqueenofmushrooms , @pigeonwhumps , @thelazywitchphotographer , @taramacgay
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