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sluttywonwoo · 2 months ago

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heat stroke

pairing: song mingi x f!reader

summary: they say laughter is the best medicine… but dick is pretty good too. (insp by ye hao in gq china’s heat stroke bc mingi’s wearing the same shirt 😵‍💫)

warnings: swearing, reader is sick, smut 18+ ; mdni (warnings under the cut)

word count: 1.8k

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie

“how’s that feel?” mingi asks as he lays the damp washcloth across your forehead.

"feels good, thank you," you sigh, smiling softly.

"of course, my love," he responds. your eyes are still closed but you can hear him smiling too. "i'm sorry you aren't feeling well."

"s'okay," you mumble.

your boyfriend makes a sound of disagreement. "you work too hard. it's run you ragged."

"no, it's just this time of year," you argue.

"what, the middle of the summer? don't people usually get sick in the fall and the winter?"

you shrug noncommittally. "i dunno."

"mmmm, i think it's what i said," he continues, knowing you're too weak to put up much of a fight. "you have to promise me you won't jump right back into work once you start feeling better, okay? you've gotta take it slow."

"yeah, yeah."

mingi sighs but he doesn't push any further. you're already feeling crummy, you don't need his badgering on top of that.

"is there anything else i can get you, baby? anything else you need?"

you seem to think about it for a moment before answering. " will you hold me?"

he softens and cups your cheek with his palm, thumb tracing your cupid's bow. "always."

mingi rounds the bed and crawls under the covers behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle as he spoons you. he can feel your fever radiating from your body, manifested into heat that engulfs the entire bed.

"god, you're warm," he murmurs.

"i know, i'm sorry."

"no, no, baby don't apologize. i know you can't help it. feels good, to be honest."

"you don't have to lie," you grumble.

"i like it! i promise!"

he does like it. just like he likes being close to you like this. he hates that you're sick but he enjoys getting to take care of you- something he doesn't often get the chance to do because of how stubbornly independent you are. you're barely letting him look after you now. you only relented and allowed him to when the doctor told you that you weren't contagious, and even so, you're still hesitant to accept his help.

mingi sighs contentedly and pulls you further into him, resting his chin on your shoulder. he expects you to fall back to sleep since you've been drifting in and out of it for most of the afternoon and you always sleep better when he's holding you, but after a few minutes of laying there, you start to shift in his grasp, twisting around like you're uncomfortable.

"what is it?" mingi asks, kissing your neck softly. "is something wrong?"

you shake your head but you don't stop moving against him either and it suddenly dawns on him why you asked him to 'hold you' in the first place. "babe, what are you doing?"

"nothing..."

"it doesn't feel like nothing."

you whine quietly, knowing you've been caught. "touch me?"

your boyfriend clicks his tongue. “baby, i don’t think that’s a good idea. you're sick!"

"i'm feeling better," you insist.

"you’re still burning up. we don’t want to make your fever worse with any strenuous activity. not to mention, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i rested all day!”

“yeah, that’s how being sick works, dork. you gotta give your body time to heal itself.”

mingi thinks he hears you grumble something about how it’s had plenty of time already but he doesn’t quite catch it.

“we can have all the sex you want when you’re back to a hundred percent, okay?” he offers.

you don’t seem pleased with his proposal but it’s not like you have another choice.

“will you kiss me at least?” you ask pitifully.

you’ve craned your neck back to look at him, using the pout you know he can’t resist to your advantage. predictably, mingi folds like a lawn chair.

“of course, baby.” he softens as he places a hand on your neck to pull you close and leans in.

it’s just a chaste peck at first but it’s searing nonetheless. your poor lips are cracked and dry even though mingi’s been trying his best to keep you hydrated. they feel like they’re on fire, burning an imprint that mingi can l feel on his own lips once he pulls away.

you don’t let him off that easily though, and chase the kiss until he finally relents and kisses you back so you don’t strain yourself. by that point you’re practically on top of him, straddling one of his thighs as you moan into his mouth.

“you’re hard,” you point out once you finally come up for air this time.

“you were pushing your ass back into me and now you’re trying to make out with me, obviously i’m going to be hard,” your boyfriend mutters.

it also doesn’t help that you’re grinding on his thigh and he can feel the wet heat of you through your panties.

he knows you’re aching for him and he feels guilty having to turn you down but the last thing he wants is for you to feel worse because of him.

“we could do something about that,” you suggest.

“i can do something about that later,” he amends. “try to sleep.”

"what if i just lay there and let you do all the work?"

"oh, so you mean normal sex for us?"

"i would smack you if i had the strength to."

"it was a joke! you know it was a joke!"

you cough weakly. "i'm sick, you're supposed to be nice to me."

"i am being nice to you," he insists, "i'm taking such good care of my girl, aren't i?"

"you could be taking care of her in other ways too," you point out.

mingi groans. "you're insufferable."

"your fault for having a perfect cock."

"oh, it's my fault?"

"yeah, that's what i just said."

mingi tongues his cheek. "still feeling well enough to be a brat, huh?"

"always."

"and you're sure you're feeling well enough for sex?"

you nod against him. "yes, baby. please?"

"what if i just touch you down here," he asks lowly, shifting his weight to lay you back on your back so that he can slip a hand beneath the waistband of your panties.

you suck in a breath as his fingers find your clit and start to circle it with practiced ease. he keeps the pressure of his fingertips light, touching you the way he does when he's trying to get you worked up, knowing you're already way past that point. he can't help teasing you a little, wanting to get back at you for being such a menace.

"mingi," you whine, pushing your hips up to meet his hand.

"you're not supposed to move, remember?" mingi chides.

"you're making it hard on purpose," you protest.

"you're one to talk," he mutters. "you don't want me to get you off with my fingers?"

"i want your dick."

mingi pretends not to hear you at first but he only plays with you a few moments longer before he relents, sliding his hand back out from your underwear and sucking his fingers clean.

"fine, but we're going slow," he says. "and if you start feeling any worse you have to tell me, okay?"

"i will," you promise.

"atta girl."

he pushes back the covers just a little and removes the washcloth from your forehead, folding it before placing it on the nightstand. you watch him yank down his sweats and spit into his palm, stroking himself a couple of times before positioning his body over yours.

"aren't you going to take them off?" you ask, glancing down at your own underwear.

"nah," your boyfriend answers. "just gonna pull 'em to the side. this won't take long."

you don't get the chance to tell him off for his smug comment because he kisses you as soon as the words leave his lips, pulling your panties to the side just like he said he would and slipping the tip of his cock inside of you. you're so wet that there's barely any resistance when he pushes in further but you still gasp at the feeling of being stretched around him.

mingi checks in with you as soon as he bottoms out, panting only slightly as he asks, "feel okay, baby?"

"better than okay," you moan. "h-how does it feel for you?"

he doesn't know how to put it into words. it's incandescent, the heat of you, engulfing him entirely.

"different," is what he manages to choke out.

"bad different?"

"no... fuck no. it's- your pussy is so hot. your fever..."

your eyes seem to widen with the realization.

"does it hurt?'

"no, baby, it feels good," he assures you, "feels fucking really good."

you whine and try to push your hips up into his again, desperate for him to fuck you harder, but he's quick to stop you with a hand to your chest.

"we had an agreement," mingi mutters. "you're supposed to just lay there and take it like a good girl, or i'll stop."

you mumble out a half-assed apology and mingi chuckles. "it's okay, i know it feels good. but we don't want you to end up feeling worse later on."

"i know, you're right."

"let me make it up to you," he murmurs, snaking one of his hands down in between your bodies so that he can rub your clit again.

your reaction is immediate. you get even tighter around him and let out a gasp that turns into a whimper.

"gonna cum?" he asks, grinning when you nod. “told you it wouldn’t take long.”

his confidence is honestly unmatched for someone who’s also hanging on by a thread. but how could he not be confident when he has you dripping onto the sheets, when he has you begging him to fuck you even when you’re achy and fever-ridden.

“cum on me, cum all over my cock,” he urges, willing himself to last long enough to fuck you through it.

somehow he finds the strength and staves off his own orgasm until you're crying his name and gushing around him. he's careful not to crush you when he cums, holding himself up on shaky arms as he fills you.

as soon as the room has (mostly) stopped spinning, mingi's badgering you with questions. the post-nut clarity has him rethinking everything. he shouldn't have let you convince him to fuck you. he should have had more self-control.

"how are you feeling? was that okay? was it too much?”

“it was perfect,” you promise him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "thank you for taking care of me."

he breathes a sigh of relief and lets his head drop back on the pillow. "anything for you, baby. i'll get a towel to clean you up, and another one for your head. you get some sl-" he's interrupted by a soft snore before he can finish his sentence. you'd beaten him to the punch and fallen asleep almost immediately after he had taken your hand. you were one step ahead, like always.

#heat stroke #ateez smut #atz smut #mingi smut #song mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi x female reader #ateez x reader

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korkorali · 2 months ago

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The Misogyny of It All

So a lot of Della Duck Discourse is rehashed all the time, points are made again and again, but one thing that I almost never see people defend -and conversely, see people attack all the time- is The Line.

You know what I'm talking about. The Line from Glomtales.

"Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you want to be a part of this family, you've gotta stop."

That one.

Now, what exactly Della was trying to get across with that line is a whole other can of worms that deserves its own post (basically she -and also the writers- horribly failed her Speech check).

What we're going over here is how that mimics a certain line from the last season, said by a parental figure to a child, that gets so much less flack. That, in fact, often gets paraded around as 'an interesting twist on a character.'

"You are not family!"

I have never seen people attack this line with the same amount of vitriol as they attack Della's, which is funny when they're the exact same line.

Actually, not even that- Scrooge's is worse.

It's more direct, it's literally yelled at Webby, it doesn't even attempt to address the issue Scrooge had (Webby blaming him for what happened to Della) and instead just straight-up attacks her as a person.

Now, to be fully honest- I like this line! I do genuinely think it's an interesting route for Scrooge to take, and is quite realistic to the grumpy old bastard. It's just funny that nobody ever comes to Webby's defense the same way they do for Louie.

Because the thing is- between Webby and Louie, one of these two has genuine, canonical issues with feeling like they're not a part of the family, like they're an outsider amongst those they love the most, like they don't belong.

And it's not Louie.

It is a consistent part of Webby's characterization that she feels like she doesn't belong. This gets touched on in all three seasons (and honestly, it could be argued that it gets worse after this moment).

Conversely, that just is not a part of Louie's canonical characterization. Even in the first episode of season 2, the one where Louie gets the closest to an 'I don't belong in this family' moment, it's less 'I don't belong here' and more 'fuck me I am terrible at adventuring'. And! It gets resolved in that episode!

(Of course, there is absolutely something to be said for how it's resolved- specifically by Scrooge encouraging him to be a scheming little bastard, which then thusly becomes the thing that threatens his family the most. Which would, logically, be a pretty big blow to his self-esteem. This isn't what I'm here to discuss right now but it is genuinely interesting.)

Louie never really shows an issue with feeling like he doesn't belong in his family. He shows a disconnect with his family at times, but in canon that never really evolves into a full-blown feeling of displacement. It does get close in Glomtales, but never quite reaches it.

So it's 'interesting' (read: not interesting) that Scrooge's fuckup here gets brushed away pretty easily. A lot of the time the line just straight-up isn't addressed, and when it is, often times it's about how "Oh he apologized to Webby offscreen, obviously."

Which.

Not he did not.

I mean, let me be clear: I don't mind it when that's the answer. It works for me to just brush it away if it's not meant to be the focus...

But Scrooge almost certainly didn't apologize for it.

As 'New Gods on the Block!' Showed us, Scrooge is downright awful at realizing when his actions have hurt people.

More likely than not, Scrooge would just assume that everything is fine and would avoid bringing it up at all costs because he'd feel awkward about it. Because he is, very importantly, not good at talking about things he doesn't want to talk about.

So why is it that Louie is always the one feeling like he doesn't belong? Why is it Della who is always a terrible parent for what she's said? Why are Webby's feelings of disconnect never really given the same gravity as Louie's? Why is Scrooge's blunder let off the hook super easily?

It just feels silly to me.

And, well.

Kinda like the fact that, since Scrooge is a guy and Webby's a girl, and Della is a woman and Louie's a boy, has something to do with it.

I'll happily give the benefit of the doubt and assume it's not deliberate, but quite frankly it is a double standard.

I think that people would be less upset with the Della Duck Discourse if Scrooge was held in a similarly critical position over what he's said and done. If it was acknowledged that Della isn't uniquely awful in what she says and does, and that a lot of the others have fucked up in extremely similar ways.

(I mean for fuck's sake, everybody goes on and on about how Della left her kids for ten years -which, for the record, wasn't what she wanted to do- but nobody ever criticizes Donald for taking the kids away from their family and never talking to them about Della- which is something he actively and deliberately chose to do)

TL;DR: The fact that Della gets intensely criticized for what she's said and done, but Donald and Scrooge are conversely celebrated as 'interesting' and 'complex' for what they've said and done, even when it brings harm to the kids, is a blatant double-standard. And if you don't think that this double-standard is bad or wrong for existing (or even that it Doesn't Actually Exist), instead of immediately claiming that it's a non-issue, maybe try to look inward and figure out why you really think that is.

#ducktales #dt17 #della duck #honestly if any of the triplets have a 'I don't belong here' complex it's dewey #like that's his whole season 1 arc #the fact that he feels like he doesn't quite belong in his family #and isn't sure if he WANTS to belong #which everyone instead makes Louie's arc #which is actually more 'I want to be rich because being poor sucked ass'#there's more depth to it than that but that's the gist of it

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wystericwoes · 1 year ago

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“Pretty boy”

Inumaki Toge x reader

Fluff

Warnings: slight cursing

"You just don't understand Maki!"

You dramatically entered your room, putting your belongings on the floor and tossing yourself on the bed as she rested her weapon against the wall, crossing her arms and raising a suspicious brow at you.

You stared up at your dismal ceiling. Letting out a long sigh.

"He's just so pretty."

She observed you curiously as you thrashed around your bed.

"Maybe if you finally talked to him rather than hoping he'll magically become a mind reader-"

You tossed a pillow at her which she easily caught.

"I don't want him to become a mind reader, I just want him to like me and tell me!"

"But without him knowing you like him first? Yeah, because expecting him to make the first move is always the best thing to do.”

she adjusted her glasses and tossed the pillow back to you which you roughly caught and placed back.

You leaned against the wall and pulled your legs up to yourself, resting your chin on your knees.

"You don't get it, if I confess and he doesn't like me, I lose him."

"You're not going to 'lose him' from a confession. It takes more than that to scare him away sadly. We're all stuck together after all."

"Exactly!" You sat upright.

Maki rolled her eyes as you rambled.

"He'll get sick of me, having to see my face in class every day, every mission, all the time."

"You're so dramatic."

You pulled your phone, zooming in on a picture you snuck of him during training. He was looking off, his long eyelashes and smooth locks gracing his face like a goddamn angel.

"Its not fair!"

You set your phone aside so you could slam your face into your pillows and let out a muffled scream.

"Why can someone be so damn pretty? It shouldn’t be allowed!”

You huffed as you recalled his smooth skin and sharp features. Soft hair and gentle smiles.

You put your hands on your face and rolled over to your side facing the wall on your bed.

“You’re obsessed with him.. get a grip.”

Maki rolled her eyes placing a sassy hand on her hip with an annoyed expression.

“You wouldn’t get it. You’ve never had boy problems.”

Her jaw ticked.

“Id hardly call it boy problems if it’s just you sitting in bed thinking about him.”

You threw a pillow again, which she threw back again.

You caught the pillow and pulled it into yourself, hugging it tightly.

“You don’t gotta say it like that!”

You sat upright and whined.

“I just wanna hold his face and kiss it!”

You roughly imitated the motions of what you were saying and made a dramatic kissy face.

“And he kept smiling at me all day, with those big stupid pretty eyes! It’s like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah you don’t sound creepy at allll.”

She said sarcastically.

“It’s not creepy! It’s honest. It’s not like it’s my fault he’s got those stupid pretty lashes and that stupid silky hair and that stupid smooth skin!!”

“If you’re just gonna talk about Inumaki then I’m leaving.”

She turned around and began making paces out the door before you yelled at her to come back.

“Okay sorry!”

“Thank you.”

She made her way through your room and sat in your chair legs crossed facing the bed. You two sat in silence as she began pulling out her books and setting them on your desk to begin your nightly ritual of studying next to eachother. But she abruptly stopped her movements when you let out a long and hearty sigh, making her let a sigh of her own.

“Do you just want me to talk to him?”

“No! Thats 100 times worse.”

“Then get it over with yourself so he can at least reject you and you can move on already.”

“It’s different with him!”

“You’re absolutely delusional. We’re not in elementary school anymore, we communicate our issues like adults.”

You hated to admit that she was right. At this rate with your feelings, you would either drive yourself mad not knowing If he felt the same or if he didn’t. But Is it really better to be rejected than to never know at all? You silently weighed your options.

Maki opened a pencil case and pulled out a ballpoint pen, clicking the end as she started to write. The rhythmic sounds of it began to lull you into a daydream as you fantasized about him again.

Closing your eyes and succumbing to your own fantasies maki took it upon herself to take action. Because as much as she valued you as a friend, if she had to what about your fanatical little crush one more time- she’d lose it.

A few minutes had passed as you remained unmoving.

“Y/n?”

She whispered.

Asleep.

She chuckled to herself as she carefully grabbed your phone Off the bed typed in your passcode, opening up recent messages.

>Toge Inumaki 🩵

>Nobara Kugisaki

>Gojo-Sensei

She cringed to herself as she clicked on Inumakis name and the heart.

Y/n: Hey Inumaki, sorry to bother you. Are you free to hang out soon?

Maki set down the phone content with her text. Not expecting the phone to ding seconds later.

Inumaki: Hang out?

Y/n: Yeah, is that okay?”

Inumaki: ofc it’s okay lol I just don’t know you wanted to hang out with me

Y/n: well ofc! I really like being with you.

She watched as the three dots popped up, anticipating his response.

Inumaki: As long as you’re sure you wanna. Just us?

Maki cringed as her fingers hit the keypad and typed the response.

Y/n: Yeah. I wanna be alone with you :) If you’re okay with that.

Maki looked up from the screen to check that you were still asleep, confident you were since you were even drooling a little- she went back to work.

Inumaki: sounds good, what about the movies tonight?

Tonight?? Maki bit her nail as she looked back from the phone to you back to the phone.

Y/n: sounds great! Text me the deets and I’ll be there.

She got up and tapped your shoulder until you stirred awake.

“Hey! Wake up.”

You pushed her hand away as your eyes slowly rose. Maki shoved your phone in your face.

“I got you a date.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsukaisen fanfiction #inumaki fluff #jjk inumaki #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki #inumaki x reader #inumaki x y/n

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

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Part 1

Silently, they swap seats. It feels ridiculous, how perfectly the whole exchange goes, how no-one else stirs, how the RV glides smoothly with Eddie's hands on the wheel.

“What about, uh, the walkman?” he asks, tries to sound matter-of-fact. Time for a new plan, time to think.

“No,” Steve says. There's a finality to his tone. “Max should keep it.”

Eddie exhales. “Okay, okay. There's—here, there's a radio.” He doesn't mention the fact that he's closer; knows that his hand would shake if he tried to reach for it. “Be great if you'd develop an emotional attachment to, like, all of the Top 40 right now, Harrington.”

There's a soft sound that might almost be a laugh. Eddie listens to Steve quietly moving around then returning to his seat, hears the static of the radio being turned on—volume low, as if Steve doesn't want to wake anyone up. The thoughtfulness, even now, makes something in Eddie's chest hurt.

But there's nothing, not even a whisper of a song, and then even the static stops. Steve has turned the radio off.

One second.

“No signal,” Steve says, and even though he's not looking at him, Eddie knows he's shrugging again, like it is what it is.

The panic Eddie had briefly kept at bay while trying to strategize comes flooding back. “Jesus Christ, this—this can't be happening.” There's another long pause, and Eddie inhales shakily, remembers how he hadn't noticed when Chrissy fell silent. “Hey, man, you've gotta—keep talking to me, okay, or I'm gonna lose it.” Let me know you're still here. Please.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Talking. Um.”

“Um,” Eddie parrots. “Wow. Didn't finishing school teach you conversation skills?”

Steve laughs again—hushed but real. “Fuck off.” He sighs, then says, “God, this might be a weird thing to say—”

“Colour me intrigued.”

“—but I'm so relieved, dude, you have no idea.”

“You're right. That's an extremely fucking weird thing to say.”

“I didn't want it to be Max,” Steve says, so heartfelt that Eddie tightens his grip on the wheel. “Didn't want it to be... anyone, you know? It's—yeah, it's better like this.”

“‘Better’ is a strong word for it.”

“Mm. Like, come on, what's the worst he could have in store for me? The summer our AC broke, that was pretty rough—”

“Don't,” Eddie says sharply, and all at once the joking tone they'd built up evaporates. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don't...” Eddie swallows. Recalls when he'd cut through the gym to get to Drama Club, how he'd glance over at Cheer Practice and think, They've all got it made, haven't they? Shiny fucking picture-perfect lives. “Don't bullshit me, all right?”

“...Okay.”

Eddie scoffs weakly, tries to regain the banter they were sharing. “Hey, if you can't be honest now, when can you?”

“Sure, that's—that's fair.” Steve shifts in his seat. “I was talking to Max, about the... when it happened to her. And she said she thought of happy memories, so. Got an idea of what to expect, at least.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, the mild tone only barely covering his anxiety. “Know what you're thinking about, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He's smiling; Eddie can hear it. “Got a few things in mind.”

“Good, that's... that's good.”

The road is getting more familiar: it won't be long until they're nearing the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

“Kinda impressed with you, Munson. Was expecting you to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“Ha, ha. Special occasion, and all—”

A pained gasp cuts through the air, and Eddie's stomach lurches. “Shit, shit, Steve—”

“I'm fine,” Steve says quickly, “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Tell me the fucking truth. Please.”

“It's just my head. Hurts a bit. Not a big deal, I've had worse.”

From the clipped way Steve is speaking, Eddie knows it's more painful than he's letting on.

He slows and brakes at a stop light before taking the chance to, finally, look over.

Steve is staring straight ahead, eyes in focus, and Eddie suppresses a sigh of relief at the sight. But then he sees how Steve's jaw is clenched.

“How's the clock?” he says cautiously. Prays for a miracle.

“Still there. It's closer. And, um...” Steve's mouth opens, closes, opens again. “I'm guessing the black widows on the dashboard aren’t actually...?”

God, he says it so easily. Eddie can't comprehend the bravery of it. “No, there’s nothing there,” he says.

“S'okay,” Steve says, “I'll just look at you.”

“I've been told I'm a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie says dryly.

“Oh, I’d believe that,” Steve returns, somehow both matching Eddie’s tone and sounding completely sincere. He turns to Eddie and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie,” Steve says gently. “Just some spooky pictures, really. That’s kids’ stuff. And you’re—you’re good company.” The light changes. Eddie looks away with reluctance, starts up the engine again. “I try my best,” he says lightly, and wonders how someone can be so close to… to… (he can’t say it; he won’t say it). So close to that, and still smile about it.

You’re incredible, Steve Harrington.

“Home sweet home,” Eddie murmurs as they pass the Welcome sign. “Hey, we made pretty good time, too.”

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Steve says nonsensically.

“What the—?”

“I didn’t, Dad, I didn’t. I’m not lying.”

There’s ice in Eddie’s veins. “No, no, no, stop—stay with me Steve,” he says, which is so fucking stupid, what, did he think he could solve this through sheer force of will? No matter how many times he begged, Chrissy never woke up.

But then Steve gasps, and it sounds like he did at Lover’s Lake, just before he got dragged back under. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Jesus. We’re—we’re here.” “We’re…? Right, yeah.” A deep breath. “Okay. New plan. My place first,” Steve says firmly. “We'll drop the kids off.” There's an unshakable resolve in his voice.

Eddie takes the next turning, doesn’t even enjoy the double take that Steve does at that, the fact that Eddie already knows his address. When he glances over, he sees beads of sweat on Steve’s face. Eddie speeds up.

Please, please. Just hold on.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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chiisana-sukima · 2 months ago

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nine people i want to get to know better

Thank you for the tag, @slutsons-blog! Starting a new post because I'm autistic and therefore mostly only care about the "Current Obsession" question, and want to ramble excessively as usual in that one.

Last song: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team: Pokemon Square because I'm currently playing Pokemon Mystery Dungeon with my daughter. Otherwise I honestly couldn't tell you. Whatever was on in my car.

Fave color: Purple

Currently watching: Star Trek Discovery

Last movie: Knives Out

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet, tart, salty

Relationship: married x 27 years

Last thing I googled: the word "dependent", for spelling assistance. which is a good thing because I spelled it "dependant".

Current Obsession: it's been spn since 2016. Truly we are the Hotel California of media franchises. I did recently play Disco Elysium twice in a row in quick succession, and I follow the DE tag. I can't recommend the game highly enough.... but I can feel my Special Interest-level obsession with it fading already. Spn has never faded even a tiny bit and I wonder if it ever will.

@slutsons-blog I feel after reading that you're watching spn for the first time, that I did you a bit of a disservice with my Sam takes to you before in that I mostly talked about Sam's evolution as a character as the show goes on and very little about him from the first five seasons.

Gotta be honest and tell you that although I liked both brothers all along, I was a Dean girl until the end of s6/beginning of s7, when the balance of who gets whumped the most started shifting and my subconscious suddenly decided to switch allegiances. It's not that I liked Dean any less; my id just loves a sopping wet pathetic kitten of a man who has been sexually abused, and Sam got suddenly way more kitteny and pathetic after the Cage. So I don't actually have a ton of takes on "what to love about Sam in the early seasons". I do love early seasons Sam too--she is my beautiful baby princess--but my early seasons takes are a lot more inchoate.

I count myself lucky about my id's sudden defection though, because I think we have limited control of who our blorbos are, and having Dean as a blorbo is a tough row to hoe as the later seasons go along. You know how you noticed that in s6, Dean suddenly gets a lot more assholey without apparent reason? Unfortunately he never gets better again, and in fact keeps getting worse and worse as the years go by, until by the last seasons he is openly far more abusive to their joint child(-in-an-adult body) than John was to him and Sam. It's a realistic picture of what can happen when trauma keeps piling up on people, but it's also honestly pretty distressing, especially if he's your blorbo.

If one is in it for the ship, there's some good destiel content in the later seasons, but if you're in it for Dean, you're left either 1) dealing with the fact he's got extremely significant interpersonal problems that he never gets much of anywhere on solving and that negatively impact his chosen family in profound ways, or 2) pretending he's the same character he was in s1 and Sam is the same Sam from s1, only more boring, and Dean is just trying to put up with him because he was brainwashed by John (or ig 3- something in the middle between those two. But that seldom seems to happen in practice for whatever reason). These two versions of the show are poorly compatible, and that's how the Sam girls and the Dean girls end up in isolated silos. A few people manage to live in both, but not many.

Anyway, I feel like without the context of how Sam and Dean change in the mid to late seasons, the two fics I recc'd as Sam character studies are going to seem insanely Dean-critical, so if you haven't read them yet, you might want to wait until s10. In the meantime, the general recs are fun reads and hopefully do a good job of showcasing both characters earlier on.

Tagging (but I would be a huge hypocrite if I didn't specify there's no pressure to respond, since I almost always fail at responding to tag games myself): @adihildilid @aliusfrater @quietwingsinthesky @sammygender @ardentpoop

@peanutbutterandbananasandwichs @schizosamwincester @normalbrothershow @jellybracelet.

#tag games

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lushrue · 5 months ago

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I don't know if this is good but maybe, you can write something about maybe ice skater! reader being unfairly graded (i don't know how the point system works) or maybe ice hockey! 141 getting in a fight during a game and it gets kinda serious? Just a suggestion ofcourse, no pressure!❤ (Sorry if i'm akward, this is my first time sendinag and ask.)

thanks for the request, anon! your ask is great, no sweat! i’m gonna expand more on the second part of your request cause i’ll be honest, i’m not sure how scoring works for figure skating either lol!

but if reader gets a score that’s anything less than what they were expecting, no one’s gonna be happy. johnny’s raising a stink and probably cursing at the judges under his breath with words only he can understand. price is trying to rationalize it, cause he was sure you deserved higher than that. ghost seethes quietly, but he lets it go because these things happen sometimes. and kyle is just there for you, there to provide comfort or reassurance, whatever you need.

OKAY SO if the 141 got into a serious fight on the ice, for sure someone’s walking away bloody. whether it’s them or the other guy, it’s gotta be bad if all four of them are dog-piling on the opposing team. it probably starts with some cocksure rookie mouthing off, chirping about someone’s mother or sister or worse, you. they just can’t let that stand, someone insulting your honor like that! they’re gentlemen above all!

it’s probably ghost who throws the first punch. he’s the defenseman after all, his position is naturally a bit more physical than the rest of them. he doesn’t need words to fight back, he’s got fists that work just fine. that’s where johnny comes in, our favorite resident hothead. he’s swearing up a storm, hurling insults just to keep tensions high. he’s not done with a fight until someone’s on the ground. and he hasn’t gotten the chance to knock someone out yet this season.

price initially comes in as the peacemaker, trying to call off his attack dogs. “always on a hair trigger, those two,” he’d mumble under his breath. but the minute he hears what they’re saying or gets a punch thrown his way, he’s right there in the fray with everyone else. he tells himself it’s in defense of his boys, but he can’t deny the fire that burns hot in his belly when someone insults you. kyle is the last to join, but that doesn’t mean he’s not as passionate as the rest of them. he’s been chirping across the ice the whole time, choosing to fight at arm’s length rather than engage in contact. after all, someone has to remain penalty-free in this whole mess. he’s easily provoked to lashing out, though. call his pretty thing a rude name one more time, he dares you.

you’re torn as you watch in the stands, the refs skating in and trying to break everyone up. you can see that someone’s injured; there’s drops of blood on the ice, so play isn’t resuming for at least another 10 minutes. you know this needs to stop, that they need to cool off. but something stirs in you, watching your men fight fisticuffs on the ice. you think you catch johnny look back to make sure you’re watching before throwing a particularly bruising right hook. but of course, it ends eventually. you’re there in the locker room while the rink staff scrapes the ice to clean it, nursing johnny’s split lip while checking in with the rest. they’re all fine, thank goodness, just a couple bruised jaws and egos. "y'should see th'other guy," johnny mutters around the paper towel you're holding against his lip.

cheeky bastards, you think to yourself. always getting into trouble.

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milksuu · 1 year ago

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…the poly sett/reader/aphelios… ur insane for that one… i need a follow up🤭

-🎧

❥ prompt: Sharing is caring. And so is getting along. When it comes to you, Sett and Aphelios are working on it. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, cuddling, possessive boyfriend behavior ❥ characters/pairings: poly!heartsteel!settphel x f!reader

"This one is so cute, Sett. Your mama really knows which ones to get you," you smiled, rubbing your face against a PoroKing plushie.

"Oh, yeah. When it comes to Ma', I got lucky and ended up with the best," Sett said with a grin, "but, let's be honest here. You're the cutest thing on my bed right now."

Aphelios narrowed his eyes against his computer screen. Clicking and typing away. He was working on a sample Yone had sent him to dabble with for their next song. He would need to ensemble some lyrics to go along with it at some point. Except...he slapped his hands against his desk, turning a sharp chin towards you and Sett.

"Uh-oh," you said, wrapping your arms around Sett's neck. "I don't think Phelly likes us being all lovey-dovey without him."

"Looks like it," Sett agreed with a snaggle tooth smile. "I mean, he's free to come on over when he's done being glued to his computer. He's been ignoring us for hours. What did he expect?"

Aphelios popped the cap off a marker, took up his notepad, and scribbled:

I'm actually working. Unlike someone I know. I wOndEr wHo?

You gasped, covering your mouth. "Phelly's extra sassy today."

"Extra? Nah, he can be worse than this. Believe it or not, he's in one of his better moods today." Sett chuckled, lowering his head and planting a kiss to your collarbone. "Probably because you're here. But it's got me thinkin'. Wonder how his mood will change when I take you all for myself. Right in front of him."

You shuddered at the tingling feeling. "Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"The boss can't be nice all the time. Sometimes, he's gotta play the big bad wolf," he grumbled a purr, carefully nipping at your chest with his canines. You couldn't help the fluttering of your eyelids and hitched moans.

Aphelios almost snapped the marker in half. He jumped out of his desk chair. And launched a calculated attack while Sett had his arms filled with you.

"Woah! Buddy. What're you doing—?" Aphelios snatched Sett's chin, and planted the black marker against his nose and cheeks. With quick strokes, he painted the look of an actual dog on his face. Whiskers, snout and all. "Wait, isn't this permanent marker!?" Sett released you from his hold, jumping out of the bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Aphelios released a 'hmph' with a satisfied glean in his eyes. He sat down next to you, laced his arms around you, and plopped you both against the bed.

"Maybe Phelly's the real villain," you commented, snuggling his bed of hair. "But you two need to play nice. Okay? That was a mean thing to do to Setty. You should both apologize."

There was a twitch in his brow. He was the mean one!? He needed to apologize!? He brought you closer, placing his face between your neck and shoulder. He shook his head back and forth.

"Yes. Phelly. It's the nice thing to do," you said softly. "I know you two won't always get along. But I know you both love each other very much. And I love you both very much, too. And we can show that when we apologize after we hurt one another. Right?"

Aphelios buried himself deeper into the crook of your neck. Muffling his whines and groans into the heat of your skin. He didn't like admitting fault. He'd rather throw a written apology into the nearest burning trash can than give it to the actual person. It wasn't his fault he tended to hold onto grudges. It was always the other person's fault for not taking his personality into consideration. If they cared enough, they would know that about him. And in that case, they were making the conscious decision to be put on his shit list. He was the reasonable one. As far as he could tell.

"Please, Phelly," you asked sweetly, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

He exhaled one last breath of resistance. Somehow, you always had an unfair advantage over him. Slowly, he left the warmth of your body. That was a painful in itself. He almost cowered back into your arms. Needing a bit more strength, he slipped his mask down, and took your lips. Applying just enough pressure to make you both moan. Alright. That's all he needed. He could do this. He took up his notebook and marker.

Just as Aphelios was about to leave the room, Sett appeared from the door. His cheeks bruised red from all the scrubbing he had to do. Aphelios shifted his gaze away. A silent grip ensnared the two. Sett rubbed the guilty knot at the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, Phel—"

Aphelios flipped his notebook around:

Sorry.

Sett stumbled against his words. He hadn't expected Aphelios to be the one to apologize first. Or honestly, apologize in the first place. Technically, it was Sett's own fault for egging him on the way he did. Sett's trouble was evident in the frown lines against his face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Phel." Sett sighed, ears drooped. "I shouldn't have teased ya'h like that. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted you to take a break and cuddle with us. That's all. Hope you can forgive me."

Aphelios paused. The marker squeaked against the paper. He tossed his chin away, cheeks stained pink. He flipped the notepad:

I'll forgive you. On one condition. I'm middle.

Sett's ears perked-up. Grinning like a panting pup, he swooped Aphelio's into his love-crushing arms. You laughed when Sett dove onto the bed, causing you to bounce from the weight. Unraveling Aphelios like a long awaited package, you and Sett planted kisses against his flushed cheeks. The both of you then secured your legs across him, took up his upper-body, and rubbed against his figure in every way possible. Aphelios whined and groaned. He wanted to be cuddled—not suffocated. Of course, with his luck, things had to turn out this way.

an: poly!settphel x reader is my new crack. give me all the fics pls. also, maybe the next part will be nsfw. hmmmm! thank you for the follow req. anon!

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #aphelios x reader #sett x reader #settphel #settphel x reader #league of legends #league x reader #poly!settphel x reader

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wtftarot · 8 months ago

Text

PAC: Judgment

This one is going to be fucking intense, y'all. The Judgement card calls shit the fuck out. The Judgement card isn't judgemental though. It's all about self-reflection, taking a good, hard look in the mirror, and suspending your self-criticism so you can see yourself honestly. It can talk about a reckoning of biblical proportions, things being brought to the surface and nothing will ever be the same.

That being said this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick The Flag, The Angel, or because some of y’all’s guides have a sense of humor The Ass. And head on to your reading.

THIS IS THE JUDGMENT CARD. IT IS A TOUGH LOVE READING. IF THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU FEEL YOU NEED OR ARE IN GOOD HEADSPACE FOR, THIS ISN'T THE READING FOR YOU. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The Horn

Ten of wands, Five of Cups, The Hanged Man, Five of Swords, Death Rx, Nine of Swords, Ace of Cups Rx, Eight of Cups Rx, Seven of Cups Rx, The Fool, and The Six of Wands.

Is it loud where y'all are at? Or is there usually a lot of noise going on where you're at? I don't think that has anything to do with the reading, just something I'm picking up on. Y'all know the Judgment card is not gonna pull any punches right? And you're ready for that? Alright then, y'all are stuck in the past and it's fuckin you over. I'm getting specifically that y'all replay embarrassing memories or replay times you fucked up over and over in your head and beat yourself up over them. Now most people do that to a degree, y'all though? Y'all do it a fuck ton. You need to stop beating yourself up for past shit. You don't have to start singing your own praises or whatever, just learning to stop that train of thought when it comes up would do wonders for you. I kept pulling cards for y'all because they felt empty, that's the only way I can describe it. Y'all are so fucking drained. It's like y'all are hanging around a well that's been dry for a while, but you won't leave cause what if you go looking and never find another one? THE WELL IS FUCKIN DRY SWEETIE. You refuse to let go of the past because what if the future is worse? Or what if you never find that again? Honey, I'm gonna give it to you straight (or bi?) By holding onto the past you are guaranteeing that the future will be worse. Hanging around a dusty ass well is worse than going looking for another one, full stop. I gotta be honest, it doesn't even look like you were happy with what you're holding on to. None of the cards talk about a happy past. I keep getting this imagery of ghosts haunting an abandoned house, but it feels like you're the ghost haunting your past. There's a vibe here too, that y'all are waiting for something to rush in and change things. Like some sorta lightning strike, epiphany, huge catalyst event that's like NOW, my life can start. Sweetie, that's you. You are the change maker in your life. I understand there's a fuck ton in life that's outside of our control, I get that. That's not what this reading is talking about. It's talking about how the choices you are making are keeping you stuck. How YOU are the catalyst for change in your life. Even small steps in the right direction will make a huge difference Your reading started with the Ten of Wands and ended with the Six. The imagery on them is really beautiful for this reading. In the deck I'm using, the Ten/Wands is depicted as ten sticks all tangled together, it feels like being stuck in a dark underbrush. The Six/Wands shows a blue butterfly flying out of a dark underbrush. You have the power to move toward a brighter future. You just need to take that power into your hands and stop trying to go back to the past. I believe in y'all.

Random ass vibes: enchiladas, butterflies, 888, pop-punk, 21, pink, pastel goth

Like this reading? Tell me what you like in the comments or leave a tip in the tip jar at the bottom of the post.

Angel

Seven/Cups, Knight/Cups Rx, Queen/Wands Rx, Eight/Swords Rx, Six/Swords, Wheel of Fortune Rx, Ace of Cups.

I'm seeing a watercolor painting of mountains. Someone painting scenery on a road-trip. This energy feels very soft, not gentle though. Like a cat that's cuddly but will tear you to shreds the second the mood strikes them. I feel like if you picked this group, you are one tough nut to crack. You've either had a rough life so far, are a rough person or both. Probably both. There's a softness that's calling you. A softer life coming your way, you probably feel it or have seen signs about it. It's freaking you the fuck out though ain't it? This life that you're being called to embrace, "being welcomed into" I'm hearing, is so soft and free and you've never felt that have you? It's terrifying. Honey. I fucking get y'all, I get this group wholefuckinheartedly. Y'all may be scared that this softer life will make you lose your instincts, that you will go soft and helpless. I think that's why the cat analogy came up, you won't lose it, babe don't worry. You won't be de-clawed just because you find a safe lap to curl up in. I'm feeling that the people that will come in with this softer life will love your edges and teeth. Knowing you will have their back when shit hits the fan will make them feel so safe with you and vis versa. Cause believe me they will have your back just as you do theirs. This energy is dark and intense and soft and warm all at once. It's so fuckin beautiful. Here's the catch, cause you knew it was coming: You have to start creating room for this softer energy. You have to start being softer with yourself, not judging yourself for wanting that softness. Stop ridiculing soft things, open things. I know you can take the hard times in stride but stop making yourself. Just because you can handle the hard shit doesn't mean you have to all the time. There is so much ease with this energy, it's just like a whisper in my ear. This is a time of rest coming to you but you have to kinda train yourself a bit for it, teach yourself that these things are okay. Otherwise, you may just lose your shit cause it's so fuckin foreign to you. (I keep seeing a flash of a long caption on instagram?? I don't know what that means at all, I hope it clicks for one of y'all. ) I keep getting the sense that y'all are worried about losing who you are if you embrace this energy, you won't. That intensity? The claws? The smartass mouth and edge? All yours to keep. We don't lose the night and storms when spring comes now do we? The only difference now is that you'll have a shoulder to lean on and will have moments of peace. BUT you have to stop judging yourself for even thinking about a softer way, seriously. How the hell are you going to be ready to embrace this fuckin awesome new chapter if you can't even THINK about it without mentally berating yourself? You don't have to do a complete 180 immediately, just stop yourself when you catch yourself repeating those thoughts. Just change the subject, do not engage. You can argue with those self-berating thoughts if you want, ngl this group seems like take no shit types. And let's be honest, we all know that you can't mentally beat yourself into the person you want to be, anymore than you could repeatedly neglect and destroy a seedling and have it grow into a huge ass tree. Things don't get stronger by being repeatedly broken down and destroyed. Y'all have had enough of the tough-love, hustle, push harder to do better. It's your turn for ease.

random ass vibes: art, Hozier, rainy forests, two-lane highways, candy, hammocks, fresh laundry, fire.

Like this reading? Tell me what you like in the comments or leave a tip in the tip jar at the bottom of the post.

Ass

Four/Swords Rx, The High Priestess, Three/Pentacles, Queen/Swords Rx, The Tower Rx, Seven/Pentacles Rx, Ace/Wands and Ace/Swords Rx on the back of the deck.

Y'all's guides think they're fuckin hilarious. Not only did they keep pushing me to pick the person's ass as the picture for your group. When I was writing up the lil intro at the top, I wrote something about a good, hard look in the mirror and I heard giggling and "yea look at the dick in the mirror". (jokingly calling you a dick, not in a really mean way, more like the way you call a friend a dick) They're giggling again as I'm writing this. This energy is very youthful and light. I think y'all tend to be very hard on your past self, very critical. I keep hearing "should've known better". You need to give yourself a break, especially from past mistakes. (Do y'all have trouble focusing? I cannot seem to focus on this group, so I'm sorry if it's coming across as very jumbled. )There's a deep need to go inward and explore your inner self. I think y'all actively avoid going inward, dealing with your own emotions. It's like y'all are running away from your inner child. Some of you may have had a rough childhood but I'm getting that it's more that y'all kinda bully your past self/ inner child, as they are one and the same. It's interesting, it feels like a few of y'all are demanding yourselves to be a way that you're not naturally and it's alienating your inner child. Now, I can't say who you are naturally, not my place. I can say judging by the cards, some of y'all are pushing yourselves to be more of a logical hardass than you are and for others of you it's the opposite, you're pushing yourselves to be more intuitive, touchy-feely than you are naturally. No Judgements for either side, I do want to say whether you figure out you're more or less logical/intuitive, you can still be into tarot and everything. All are welcome. All of y'all are punishing yourselves for not being how you think you "should" be though. I do mean punishing, too. Y'all can be downright cruel to yourselves when you try to be. Pay attention to what you're saying to yourself in those moments, as I'm getting that you may be parroting something cruel that was said to you as a kid. I mean, do you even truly believe what you're saying to yourself? Cause, honestly it looks like you do and value different skill sets and understand that everyone is different and does embarrassing shit sometimes, but you have a different standard for yourself. I'm hearing something like "Yeah but everyone' beats themselves up over embarrassing shit, everyone does this, and everyone hates themselves for past mistakes. Sweetie, everyone cringes at their past, not everyone is cruel to themselves the way you are. I don't think you realize how incredibly harsh your thoughts toward your past self can be. You wonder why you can never seem to connect with your inner child when you've become their biggest bully. I mean no offense and I'm not judging you, I'm just your guide's lil messenger. I didn't intend for this to be an inner child reading, that is what it needs to be, though. The Judgment card talks about calling things to the surface, and facing the truth of you head on. Your self-judgments are leaving your inner child feeling abandoned by you. You're picking apart the foundation of yourself and wondering why you never feel like you're on solid ground. This reading is calling you to go back to basics for yourself. I'm seeing for those of you who never really had a time when you could be a child, not only is this more relevant for you, it'll have more of an impact. Think back to what made you feel safe as a kid, or what you wanted to do to make yourself feel safe that you couldn't for whatever reason. Shows you watched or wanted to watch. The food you wanted. Buy yourself a toy, playdough is cheap as hell. If you're still pretty young and you're reading this, let yourself BE young. The world is so fuckin demanding and puts so much pressure on everyone to be "mature" and grow up as fast as possible and it's bullshit. Being easier on your past self/inner child will give you that spark and energy you've felt was missing. You're never too old to let yourself feel like a kid.

random ass vibes: spinning around til you fall, gardening, 222, birthday candles, art, blanket forts,

Like this reading? Tell me what you like in the comments or leave a tip in the tip jar at the bottom of the post.

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #wtftarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pac reading

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finniestoncrane · 9 months ago

Note

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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suzukiblu · 11 months ago

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Thank-you Ko-fi sentences for @beatrice-otter; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

“Um, can we maybe sit for a bit?” Billy suggests, gesturing towards the bean bag chairs. They look comfier than the couch to him. Which is saying something, because the couch looks really comfy. “I wanna tell you something before you decide if you wanna stay here. Well, there’s a few things we should talk about before you decide that, probably? But this one’s kinda the weirdest one.”

“. . . fine,” Superboy says warily, and they both sit on the bean bags. Superboy looks a little bewildered by them; Billy represses another wince. Maybe Cadmus didn’t teach him about bean bag chairs?

That sucks, if they didn’t.

Well, at least Superboy didn't say “no” this time. Although Billy hopes Superboy saying “fine” doesn't actually mean “no”, now that he's thinking of it, because that'd be–

Yeah, okay, Billy needs to not second-guess literally everything Superboy says, so they're definitely gonna have to have the “no” talk ASAP.

“Okay, cool,” Billy says as he settles in carefully on his own bean bag, which is a little awkward because he’s about twice the size he was the last time he sat on one, but he figures it out eventually. This is a weird conversation to have, definitely, but it’s not really . . . like, it’d be bad to lie to Superboy about this, even if he’s gonna keep lying to the Justice League, so . . . well, lying to his co-workers isn’t like lying to his kid, he thinks. Like–it’s definitely not. “Okay, so the thing is, uh, to be totally honest here I'm actually only like twelve years older than you, so I know this whole situation is a liiiiittle weird, but I think it'll be great! And I've really only been doing the superhero thing for a couple of years myself but I can definitely still help you with your powers and with learning how to get along with normal humans and that kind of stuff!”

Superboy stares at him in bemusement. Billy has to repress a wince again. Bemused staring is . . . not great. Though it could be worse, really.

“. . . wait, are you human?” Superboy asks with a slow frown. “You don't look human. You don't have pores or any variation in skin pigmentation and your face is perfectly symmetrical. And your irises don't have spokes.”

“Uh, well, technically I'm human but, uh, please don't tell anybody cuz I reaaaaally don't wanna explain that to the Justice League,” Billy says, wincing after all, and then adds in a mutter, “At least not any time in the next six years, anyway.”

“Okay,” Superboy says, sounding skeptical. But he doesn’t sound mad or weirded out, so . . . that’s a good sign, right? Billy thinks that’s a good sign. So–good! That’s good, that Superboy isn’t immediately freaked out by him only being twelve or walking straight out the door. Like, that’s a relief. So this is going great so far!

“. . . you’re really only twelve years older than me?” Superboy asks, his frown deepening a little as he looks Billy over. Billy grins sheepishly. He’d show him, obviously, but he’s pretty sure Batman’s surveilling the apartment at least a little bit while they settle in and he doesn’t want him seeing the lightning hit, sooooo . . . yeah, not right now.

Anyway, if he’s being a dad he should be dad-shaped, right? Being dad-shaped is better! And like this he’s big enough to hug Superboy really good and maybe carry him around and stuff like that, and he knows most little kids like being carried, and . . . well, his dad always did that kind of stuff for him, so . . .

He just wants to be a good dad. His was . . . his was really great, and Superboy should get to have a great dad too.

“Um, yeah, but please don't tell anyone that either, the League would be so freaking weird about it,” Billy says, still sheepish.

“. . . sure,” Superboy says, still frowning a little. Billy beams at him. This is going really good, yeah! Well, Superboy’s gotta be used to weird age-related stuff, considering he’s technically a baby himself but also “old” enough to understand a lot more than a regular baby would be able to. So yeah, that’s pretty helpful.

Awesome.

#beatrice-otter #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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lowkeychenle · 1 year ago

Text

Irrevocably [ZCL] (2)

Description: His decision has been made, but sometimes even Zhong Chenle can question his choices...

A/N: Thanks to popular demand, we have part two! I'm thinking this will be a three-parter. Do let me know if you would like a new one.

Genre: Angst, smut (no real sex but like smutty enough ig)

Content Warnings: Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! This has gone into infidelity territory. Chenle is a bad dude in here, but the reader becomes a lil manipulative too. it's dramatic okay?

Word Count: 4,677

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader | Mark Lee x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Not hearing from Chenle for a while hurt, but you expected after he left. You knew better than to assume your spot in his life anymore, and when you heard from Mark that Chenle and his girlfriend had gotten back together, it stung more than you thought it would.

You had nowhere to direct your anger. After all, you had no real reason to be angry in the first place. Chenle never promised you anything. He never once said he wanted to be with you in any other way besides what you already had.

Embarrassingly enough, you’d tried to reach out to him. None of your messages went through, not even making it to the ‘delivered’ status.

“So, he came over to see you, screwed you, and then left you in the morning after she called?” Mark raises his eyebrows, blinking in surprise. He sits on the floor between your couch and the coffee table.

“So eloquently put.” You roll your eyes. Sighing, you lean back against the cushion. “But yeah, that’s what happened. And now he has me blocked on everything.”

“I guess I’m just confused,” Mark says. “Why would he do that?”

You grab a decorative throw pillow and cover your face with it. “This is Chenle we’re talking about. I stopped asking about motives a long time ago.”

“Was he like this before?”

“No.” Your chest deflates. “Honestly, he used to be a really good friend, even when we were…you know. Are you mad that I slept with him?”

“Why would I be mad?” He frowns. “I mean, you know I like you. But I’m not gonna tell you what you can and cannot do with your body just because of that. If we were exclusive, it’d be different.”

“I almost stopped him. He’s just…familiar, if that makes sense.” Your cheeks heat up as you bite your tongue to stop yourself from continuing. The last thing you need to do is make any of this worse.

“I think we all have that person we’re weak for.” Mark gives you a half smile. “I get it.”

You cradle your pillow in your lap and rest your head in your palms. “This is probably the last thing you want to talk about.”

“I’ve had more favorable conversations,” he agrees. “And…if you don’t want something with me, that’s fine, you know? You just gotta be honest with me.”

The stark contrast between him and Chenle almost makes you question everything. Mark treats you the way you’re meant to be treated—kindly, with respect, like you matter. Chenle, on the other hand? He was nice to you when sex wasn’t involved…for the most part.

Back before he’d met his girlfriend, he was as close to perfect as he could get. He was respectful of you, he didn’t push your boundaries, he took care of you. Now it was manipulation and heartache and lies. Chenle lied to you. He said he missed you, that all he thought about when he was with her was you, and you couldn’t even try to believe that anymore. It made no sense.

Actions speak louder than words.

But if Mark is perfect, why the hell are you still thinking about Chenle?

“I can do that.” You sit there for a moment, contemplating what you’re even going to say to make any of this better. “I…I like you, but I like him, too.”

“So it wasn’t just sex.” Mark tries to understand, confusion plastered across his face.

“It was. But when he was here the other night, I kind of realized I didn’t think that way anymore. Everything he said to me…It just doesn’t feel fake, I guess.” You fidget with your fingers, unsure of why you’re giving so much detail to him.

“That changes things a little bit.” He shifts, resting one of his arms on his knee. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not mad. But I think you need to figure things out. I’m not okay with being a second choice, (Y/N). And I hope you know you deserve better than the bullshit he’s been putting you through.”

“I’m trying,” you tell him.

“Right.” He stands, brushing his jeans off. “Do me a favor and call me when you figure things out, okay?”

“I–”

“It’s alright. I’ll talk to you later.”

You can’t even get another word out before Mark is out of the door. Shock courses through you, and you wonder if you made a mistake by telling him about your feelings for Chenle. Yes, his actions have been questionable lately, but that’s not the Chenle you knew. The Chenle you knew is the sort of guy who falls on the floor laughing, the over competitive to a fault sort, and whoever the hell left your apartment that night was not him.

Fantastic. Now you don’t have Mark, either.

The rest of the day is spent sitting in the exact same spot. You try to find something to keep you occupied, but without hearing from Mark, your phone is drier than the Sahara desert. Not to mention nothing seems interesting to you anymore. Staring at the ceiling has become quite the hobby.

You didn’t realize how often you spoke with Chenle until he was gone from your life completely. The two of you used to text constantly, not about anything in particular. Feeling the lack of his company hurts deep in your soul, in a way that shakes you to your core.

When you head into your kitchen to throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, you don’t even get the bag out of the plastic before you hear a knock. Frowning, you check around to see if Mark had left anything, and maybe it was him coming back for it.

You don’t find anything, but you walk over and throw the door open. Everything inside you shifts, the blood apparently draining from your body at the sight of Chenle standing in your doorframe.

You barely even have a second to think before he’s lunging forward, a hand grasping the small of your back as he leads you back into your apartment and kisses you like his life depends on it. Shock courses through you, and by the time he’s pulling away, you’re at a loss for words.

You should be mad at him. You should push him away and ask him why the fuck he’s suddenly back.

Except that’s no longer on your mind when you catch the look in his eyes. You quickly realize Mark was right—everyone has someone they’re weak for, and for you? It’s Chenle. His chest heaves from the abruptness of the kiss, his tongue darting out to wet his full lips.

“God, I need you so fucking bad right now,” he groans, pulling you flush against him.

You don’t question it. In your mind, this means his girlfriend must’ve left again. She no longer exists in your mind. Chenle would never do that to someone.

“I saw him leave,” Chenle whispers, trailing his lips down your neck to where it meets your shoulder. “Every time I see him with you, I want to kill him.”

“Chenle, I—”

“You like getting me strung up like this, huh?” He nips your skin. “I hate thinking about anyone else fucking you.”

Your world spins around you, and you’re half-convinced this is a dream, but you feed into it regardless. You’ve craved him the entirety of his absence, so if this is all in your head, you’ll thank yourself when you wake up.

“You can’t leave again,” you say, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I won’t, baby,” he hums, resting his forehead on yours. “Can’t stay away from you.”

You tug him back to you, mouths smashing together. Every logical thought you’ve ever had has quickly exited, leaving you alone with a next to primal desire for the man before you. When you pull on his hair, he moans into your kiss, sending excited chills up and down your spine.

Remembering Mark briefly, you push Chenle away, turning toward your kitchen and aching for oxygen. You hate the way you want to forget the past two weeks. Like everything he’s done to you doesn’t matter anymore because he suddenly wants you again.

It’s not okay. You know it’s not, but somehow, it’s not enough to change your mind. You have to distance yourself from him, or every ounce of self-respect you’ve ever had gets flushed down the drain.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” Irritation tinges his voice.

“Better question,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Where the hell have you been?”

His eyebrows pinch, creasing his forehead. You swear you see a hint of guilt, but it disappears from your view when he turns his head.

“You think you can disappear for weeks and then when you show up at my door, I’ll just drop my pants for you?”

“That’s not what I said,” he replies with a scoff. “I don’t know what I was thinking, okay? I saw you and it just…I need you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Chenle’s voice raises. “You were never like this before.”

You freeze, a laugh of disbelief escaping your lips as you slap a hand over your mouth. “I’m the one that’s different?”

A shaky breath follows, and then you break into a psychotic laughing fit, gripping onto the counter as actual tears well in your eyes as you try to regain your composure.

“Your girlfriend broke up with you because you left pictures of me in your phone,” you remind him. “And then your first response was to come to my house and tell me how much you missed me and how much you need me, but then you went running back to her the second she was willing to talk about it.”

“That’s—”

“I’m not done,” you snap. Your fury grows, and red clouds your vision. “I warned you. I warned you she would make you choose, and you left without any hesitation. And I haven’t heard from you this whole time, so what the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Are you done now?” He narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You run your tongue over your teeth, nodding slowly. “You know what? Yeah. I am. Get out, Chenle.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant—” He takes a step forward, and you take a matching one backward.

“Does she know you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows. “If I texted you right now, would I still be blocked?”

Chenle glances up at the ceiling. He doesn’t even need to tell you the answer—you already know.

“Oh, my God.” You stumble a little further back. “You just barged into my apartment, tried to get with me, and you’re still with her?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh, then please do enlighten me. How is it?”

“Why do you have to do this right now?” he asks, tugging his fingers through his hair as he turns away.

You don’t know him anymore. That much is clear to you—you will never be his, he will never be yours. Nothing about this situation is going to work, not that you ever truly thought it would in the first place. Could you really even be mad at him? You knew what you were getting yourself into when everything started.

“What do you feel about me?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he shoots back, recoiling.

“Am I even your friend anymore?” You scoff. “Be fucking serious right now, do you see me as anything other than an easy fuck?”

“There’s nothing exactly easy about you, (Y/N).” He narrows his eyes at you. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Your girlfriend doesn’t want you here, Chenle.” You try to stay as cool as possible, letting your anger dissipate. “If you’re not going to leave her, you need to leave me. She made you pick, and now I am, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Clearly.”

“Not really sure where this fucking ego came from, but I don’t even know you anymore.” He shakes his head, turning away from you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “You’re too busy saving face in a relationship you’re clearly not too attached to. Does she not fuck you good enough?”

His silence is all you need. You imagine the way he closes his eyes, like his emotions are becoming too much for him.

“Or, I bet she hasn’t touched you at all since you got back together. Poor Chenle, can’t stand not getting his dick wet for a fucking month. You realize you’re doing exactly what she expects you not to do?”

“Yeah, because you’re such a saint, right?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Hanging out with Mark and leading him on when I’m clearly the one you want.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m calling your girlfriend to come get you,” you threaten him, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he says.

“I don’t think I will.”

He leaves you alone, and all you can do is crumble to the floor when he shuts the door behind him. You trace over your lips, guilt sinking in at the thought of kissing Chenle when his girlfriend already thinks so low of you. How could you do this to her? She never did anything wrong to you.

As much as you know it’ll hurt, you steel your resolve. You deserve better, and this is exactly what you needed to catapult you toward Mark. He’ll be good to you, and eventually, you’ll get over Chenle. Hopefully, it’s not at Mark’s expense.

Jaemin was throwing a party. He invited Mark, who obviously decided he would take you. It’d been almost a month since Chenle burst into your apartment, so you figured you would be mostly over him in case he decided to show up at the same place.

Jaemin’s place was huge—hence why he’s always the host of these parties. The three story home is like a mansion, complete with dozens of empty rooms upstairs and vast space on the downstairs level for hundreds of people.

By the time you and Mark arrive, it’s already full. There are a few separate living rooms with giant couches, and random chairs strewn about for extra seating arrangements. Jaemin’s group usually sticks together. Years ago, when Chenle originally met them, he was the one who introduced you to the group. Everyone understood the dire situation between the two of you, but no one except Mark knew the full truth.

Since Chenle’s not there when you and Mark sit down, you hope that means he’s not coming at all.

Your relationship with Mark has gone well. You agreed to make it official, and the two of you proceeded to do normal relationship things. Even though you still have yet to sleep with him, you’ve done other things, and you were enjoying the slow pace you were taking. It was a nice contrast to the way things were with Chenle.

You sit on Mark’s lap, dropping your head into his neck while you laugh at something Jaemin said from across the room. His hands are latched around you firmly.

“No, that’s not even how that happened, dude.” Mark shakes his head, excitedly pointing at Jeno. “That motherfucker is just faster than me, okay? How was I supposed to know that?”

“You can just say you suck at sports,” Jeno retorts, grinning as he sips his drink.

Jisung stands from the other end of the couch. “Chenle’s here, gonna go grab him.”

You tense, and even though Mark feels it, you hope it’s not obvious to everyone else. Your boyfriend’s grip tightens on you, and he rubs his thumb on your hip in an attempt to comfort you. This’ll be the first time you’ve seen Chenle in a while, and you have no doubt in your mind that his girlfriend will be here too. You’ve met her plenty of times, but now it was different. She won. And she knows it, too.

“Are you okay?” Mark whispers in your ear. “We can do something else if you don’t want to be around him.”

“I’ll be fine.” You run your fingers through his hair and smile at him. “Thank you, though.”

“You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You know I don’t want him anymore.” You cup his cheeks and press a quick kiss to his lips. “You’re all I need and more.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He squeezes you once, and then the two of you return to your conversation with Jaemin and Jeno.

Renjun brings drinks for everyone, and you gratefully accept yours. As you tip the cup to your lips, three figures make their way through the darkness and into their spots on the couch. Jisung, Chenle, and his girlfriend.

She sits between him and Jisung, leaving Chenle only a few feet away from you. You make brief eye contact, and the only acknowledgement he gives you is a quick raise of his brows. His gaze sweeps over how you’re positioned on Mark, and you’re almost certain you see a scowl on his face right before he sits.

He rests against the cushion, crossing his legs before he puts his arm around his girlfriend and tugs her close to him. She doesn’t even seem to notice your existence, and you feel hate bubble in your gut at the thought of them being happy together.

Mark pokes your side, making you laugh as you curl further into him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, grabbing his hand. “You know I’m ticklish.”

“I just like touching you.” He winks and takes a large sip of his drink.

“You’re pretty good at it, too.” You watch the smile on his face widen, and only when Jaemin says your name, are you shaken away from Mark.

“(Y/N), last time I had a party, didn’t you and Chenle get so drunk that you convinced him to dance on top of the pool table?” Jaemin’s voice is filled with laughter at the memory. “Guys, he wouldn’t get down. She had to go up there and try to get him down. They’re fucking crazy together. Makes a party.”

“Ah, yes, too bad you got rid of the pool table.” You set your drink down and shuffle on Mark’s lap.

Jaemin frowns. “No, I didn’t—”

“I’m sure you’ve got better stories than that trainwreck,” Chenle joins in.

You’ve been doing relatively well. Honestly, you thought you were making decent progress in getting over Chenle, but his words still sink into your gut and churn there until it turns into anger.

How can you make him hurt the same way he’s hurt you?

A plan forms in your mind, and you hide your smirk with your drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the way his girlfriend is staring at you. Her gaze drags over you as if she’s assessing which parts of you Chenle ever liked.

Well, it’s not like she hasn’t seen them. He only kept them saved for a year.

Time for you to put on a show. You want to piss them both off, and you know exactly how you can do just that.

You lean in to whisper in Mark’s ear. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not.” He pulls away to look at your face. “You know it doesn’t.”

“Good. Then you know that I want you.”

He smirks. “Keep squirming this much, and you’ll know how much I want you, too.”

Mark gets a little more confident when he drinks, and you enjoy it. He reaches down and squeezes your ass quickly, but all that does is make you move more. The two of you laugh together, and he leans forward like he’s going to kiss you.

“Yo, if you two are gonna fuck, can you at least take it upstairs?” Jaemin throws his empty cup at the two of you, but since it’s a red solo cup, it ends up barely making it half the distance.

Mark’s lips brush your ear. “Kinda like the sound of that.”

You can’t even hide the shiver that runs down your spine. Instead of answering, you slide off his lap and hold your hand out to him. He gets up quickly and wraps his arm around your waist and tugs your back to his front before placing a kiss on your neck. The other boys whoop and holler as he guides you toward the stairs, both of you giggling the entire way.

You look over your shoulder, giggles fading when you catch the glare on Chenle’s face. If looks could kill, you’re sure both you and Mark would be eviscerated by now. He’s almost taunting you, daring you to move forward and go upstairs with Mark. Chenle’s girlfriend is scowling for a different reason, irritation plastered on her face while her arms are crossed over her chest.

After a few seconds like that, Chenle disappears from your view as Mark hand dips to squeeze your ass again. You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him all the way to the end of the hall. The door is unlocked, and the room is empty, so you close it behind you.

Mark smiles as you wrap your arms over his shoulders. You barely take time to appreciate it before you press your lips to his. He hums against your mouth. He walks you backwards, hands on your butt, until the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he mutters, gently kissing down your neck. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

Your breath shudders, and you nod. “It’s more than okay.” You refuse to waste anymore time. Reaching beneath his shirt, you nudge it up his body.

He pulls it off in a swift motion, allowing you time to trace your fingers along his muscles. You push him onto the bed, and he backs up until he’s sitting against the headboard. Without hesitation, you join him in taking your shirt off. The lace of your bra is practically non-existent, but he gulps as you climb on top of him.

You guide his hands to your breasts, sighing when he squeezes them. Grinding down on him, you hold onto his shoulders. You feel his hardness through his shorts, and you lunge forward to kiss him. His tongue battles with yours, and you start to slowly lift yourself from his lap and sink back down as if you were riding his cock. Groaning, he kisses you harder, grasping your hips and helping you grind down on him, back and forth in rhythm with the way his mouth clashes with yours.

The straps of your bra fall down your arms and you tilt your head back at the deliciousness of the friction. Mark nips your collarbone, thrusting up to gain more friction.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Want you on my cock so bad.”

“God, me too.” You move faster, your body shaking and heat infiltrating every inch of you. It’s about time you took this step with Mark, and despite the way the glare on Chenle’s face as you went up the stairs with Mark excited you, you know Mark is everything you want.

He unbuttons your shorts, and you lift up to allow him to pull them down. Before his fingers can even latch onto the belt loops, the door slams open. Mark reacts quickly, flipping you over so he covers you with his body until he can get the throw blanket at the edge of it over you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mark hisses, quickly grabbing his shirt from the floor.

You clutch the blanket to your chest as you let your gaze travel to the door, and when you make eye contact with Chenle, your stomach twists.

“I…” Chenle pauses, glancing between Mark and you. “I don’t know.”

Tears well, but you refuse to let them fall in front of Chenle. You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping this is what would happen, but now that it’s here, you have two men looking at you for answers.

“You’re a shitty person, you know that?” Mark says to Chenle. “What is she to you? A fucking toy? You think it makes you fucking cool to ditch her and then not want her to be with someone else?”

“What, and you treat her better? You were about to fuck her at a party—”

“Better than fucking her while I still have a girlfriend,” Mark snaps.

“What?” A soft voice sounds from behind Chenle, and he grimaces.

“No, that never happened, I—” Chenle frantically looks to you for support, fear in his eyes as he silently begs you to help him.

But you refuse to. It’s his own fault he’s in this situation.

Footsteps retreat, but Chenle stays put, panic rising as he tries to figure out whether or not he should stay or if he should go after his girlfriend.

“You’ll never fucking be anything to her,” Chenle spits at Mark. “You think she’ll ever think of you the way she thinks of me? She’s mine, and you’re an idiot if you think you stand a chance—”

Mark’s fist connects with Chenle’s jaw, and you scream. Launching up from the bed, you push yourself between them before Chenle can retaliate. You pant as you pull the straps of your bra back up and face Mark, putting your hand up.

“Mark, I—”

“Oh, fucking forget this.” He laughs, slapping his palm to his forehead. “He’s right, isn’t he? No matter what I do, it’ll always be him?”

You take a step forward. “It’s not like that—”

“He just insulted you, and you stood in front of him. You stood in front of him.” The anger on Mark’s face is new to you, and you feel shame prickle in your gut.

“Please, let me—”

“I wasn’t the one throwing punches,” Chenle says. “So it’s not like she had anything to protect you from—”

“Fuck this. I’m done.” Mark pushes past both of you, stopping to turn back and point. “You two are both fucked up. I don’t want to hear from either of you ever again.”

“Mark—” You start to follow him, but Chenle grabs your wrist. Glaring at him, you try to jerk away from him. “You’ve done enough, leave me alone.”

“It’s not…not like that. You’re half-naked, (Y/N), at least get dressed before you follow him.”

You curse loudly, running back into the room to grab your shirt from the floor. Tears blur your vision as you tug on the fabric back on and button your shorts. You try to ignore Chenle’s presence—considering that’s how you got here in the first place—but the emotions become too much.

You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed, Chenle’s form a blur as he moves toward you. Your fists clench into the bedding, and your body shakes as you truly realize what you’ve done.

Chenle’s embrace feels natural, easy to melt into, but you push him away with such force, he sits down on the floor next to you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss at him. “This is all your fault. Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

“It’s okay,” he replies, nodding. “You should be mad at me. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what just happened.”

You grip his shoulders and start shaking him. “What’s wrong with you? What happened to you? Where did Chenle go?”

For the first time in months, you see the old him. The one who actually cared for you. Guilt and shame cover his face as he takes in the state you’re in. You eventually become so weak, you crumble. He catches you, stroking the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry.” Chenle squeezes you tightly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #lowkeyjaemle #nct dream angst #zhong chenle #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle smut #nct smut #nct angst

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itsgrimeytime · 8 months ago

Text

drunk on you (part four) || Rick Grimes (TWD) × gn!reader (no apocalypse!AU)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

series taglist: @ryoujoking

Part 1, 2, 3

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: You'd known Rick forever, as far back as freshman year. He was a guy you (if you were honest) had a crush on; there was just something in his stance and the low drawl of his voice. You'd say that feeling only got worse from there. Before you could blink, he was married and had a kid; and suddenly, despite your best efforts, you felt very out of place. You faded out of his life, and he yours. So when Rick shows up at your door (drunk out of his mind) about 5 years after the last time you spoke to him, you have a lot of questions.

TWs: exes, mention of cheating (not Rick don't worry babes), talk of marriage, vague allusion to sex, and a teeny bit of jealousy.

[[A/N: This is just some domestic fluff. Okay but like what if 5 is just an epilogue? Many thoughts to be thunk. Also, can you tell I'm a child of divorce🧍‍♀️. Enjoy :))]]

It was early morning, and you were tight to Rick's side -probably so much that he couldn't even move. But that wasn't your problem, and he never said anything about it. So, you kept doing it.

He must've felt you shift, because he spoke then.

"Ya awake?" He asked -voice gruff and slurred. It still sent a shiver down your spine, his accent much stronger -tone so low and scratchy. There was just something about his voice in the mornings (or in general, really).

You mumbled into his skin, shifting your head further onto his chest, "No."

He laughed, arm wrapped around your back -squeezing you closer. You hummed at the contact.

"Baby," he urged -still smiling, you could tell in his voice, "-I can't feel my legs, we gotta get up."

You frowned, with ease sliding your right leg in between his -interlocking them, "Not anymore."

"Hate to break it to ya," he hummed, brushing his fingers up and down your spine -if he wanted you up, he should stop being so soothing, "-but I still can't feel 'em."

You sighed out, big and long -pressing a kiss to his chest (right over his heart) and sitting up. Rubbing at your eyes and fixing your shirt, you leaned against the bed frame.

Rick looked at you for a moment, before smiling, "You're so cute, ya know 'at?"

You yawned, stretching out your arms, stating -frankly, "You tell me a lot."

"Yeah, well," he pursed his lips, "-Imma keep doin' it."

"I know," you responded -leaning over and kissing him solidly.

You'd initially just wanted one, but Rick held you there a moment -hands cupping your face. Lips darting forward a few times, he chased them. It was routine for him -almost like brushing your teeth. You realized he really liked to kiss you, and probably, realistically, had a quota -the thought nearly made you laugh.

"You keep doing that and we won't make it out of the bed," you teased -landing one more on his lips.

Rick laughed, you loved that sound.

Flicking to your phone, you scanned the date and time -frowning. It was a workday.

"Ugh," you groaned, throwing yourself back into the bed, "-I work today. Save me, Grimes."

He was on his side now, looking down at you - that gaze you knew very well. He had so many stares that said the same thing -it was nice; he didn't have to say a word but he still did. All the time.

Complimented you like he couldn't help it, like it was always on his tongue.

He offered, half-serious you could tell, "What if ya quit, and I got a job again? Took care of you and Carl."

"Rick, as much as that sounds like heaven, and it does-" you hummed, hands moving up to cup his face -thumbs saying back and forth over his cheekbones, "-I love my job, I'm not quitting."

He turned to kiss your palm, gently.

"Plus," you added on, "-you make a great housewife."

Rick rolled his eyes, the smile spread across his lips much more telling, "Ya are too much, sometimes, you know 'at?"

"I think," you smiled, sitting up and rubbing your hands over his shoulders, "-I'm just right."

"For me," he added, "-Just right for me."

You smiled, holding his face in your hands and leaning forward to kiss his forehead. You almost couldn't stop yourself with him, you wanted to hold him or kiss him nearly everywhere. Maybe because you spent all those years not and wanted to make up for lost time, but you didn't really know for sure.

"Sap," you hummed, patting his cheek -a little patronizingly.

And then, Rick laughed again.

Before you could do much else, you heard some shuffling in the living room -footsteps pattering along the floor. Straight to your room. You moved in preparation, as you did every morning.

Just on cue, Carl barreled through the doorway -jumping his Dad into a tackle.

"'Ere's my guy," Rick laughed out -breathless (you imagined the hit made him a little breathless), squeezing his son against his chest.

When Carl finally let go, you brushed some of his hair down -it was far too mussed for it to do anything but you just wanted to, "Did you sleep good, Carl?"

"Great," he smiled -big and toothy, "-I had a dream about evil dinosaurs taking over, I saved the world-"

"Betcha did, buddy," Rick commented, shifting his son further down the bed, "-let's go get some breakfast."

"Get?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Rick hummed, "-'ere's a place a friend recommended a few weeks ago, been meaning to try it. If ya want to."

"A friend?" You questioned now fully facing him, "-tell me more."

"Yeah, Dad," Carl affirmed, "-since when do you have friends?"

You snorted at that.

Rick huffed out, a little in defense, but answered anyway, "'Went when ya were workin' and you were at your Mom's to some local park. Guy had a dog, thin' tackled me to the ground."

"And you became friends with him?" Carl asked, confused.

"Adults are weird like that, sweetie," you patted his shoulder, "-we take what friends we can get. And you-"

You turned toward Rick, pecking him on his cheek, "-I'm very proud."

He smiled that twinkly one again, eyes so blue and so... in love. You were sure that you looked about the same.

"You guys are gross," Carl stuck his tongue out in disgust, running out of the room without another breath. Kids.

"No, but seriously," you turned to him -one last time, "-I'm really proud of you."

He smiled, a softer one then, like the praise meant the world to him -and you wondered briefly if it did, "I know."

It was a few days after that now -the weekend, where you found yourself, and Rick, shopping. It wasn't like you dragged him everywhere you went, he just always wanted to follow you around.

Bonnie said it was like he was a 'lil' lovesick puppy' and you were really starting to agree with her.

He was looking at you now, eyes twinkling as he pushed the cart -slow and sure steps following each one you took.

"What kind does Carl like again?" You asked absent-mindedly, hands darting between a few packages, "-I could've sworn it was blueberry, but these don't-"

"'S blueberry," he hummed, and you spun to him -eyes flickered over his (he was looking at you way too in love to be at a grocery store).

"Are you sure-" you asked, motioning to the box, "-is this just new packaging, or-"

"Baby," he laughed, walking away from the front of the cart and taking the box into his hands, "-stop stressin' yourself out, 's the right one-"

He paused for a minute, looking it over.

"Yeah," you snatched the box out of his hands -with a teasing smile, "-What were you saying exactly?"

Rick laughed, leaning forward to kiss you -quickly, "'M sorry, you were right. Doesn't look right. Is 'ere any with blueberry in-"

"Y/N," a voice rang out, "-is that you?"

You stalled in place, you knew that voice from forever ago. Was that-

You turned around, your ex-boyfriend from your senior year. It really was. He was older now, obviously, taller, his hair still cut the same way and his fashion sense somehow worse. Which you didn't know how that could happen, because he was a teenager. How did it get worse?

"Hey," you offered -awkwardly, "-crazy seeing you here."

Rick spun around at your tone, eyes settling very quickly on the guy -he knew him too. The smile on his face flattened.

Your breakup hadn't been the best, he'd cheated on you and asked the person to prom instead of you. Shane and Rick ended up taking you, but it hurt all the same. He'd never even formally broken up with you, now that you think about it-

"Rick!" He exclaimed, but you could tell it was a little for show, "-What are the chances? It's like we're holding our own little reunion here."

Rick was silent, he did hold grudges for pretty long, so you wouldn't be surprised if he still had one. You peeked over at him, and saw an unfamiliar face -straight lined mouth, and blue eyes steely.

"What are you," you started -politely, "-doing here?"

"I work around here," he clarified, and you relaxed slightly -normal, "-I'd heard you were in the area though and wanted to catch up!"

There it was.

"I didn't-" he started, "-I wasn't looking in grocery stores, I was going to try and talk to you through socials-"

His eyes landed on Rick for a moment, and he seemed to think for a moment, "Didn't expect you here though, buddy! Last I heard you were still in town. Are you visiting or something-"

Rick was deathly quiet.

"Actually," you laughed, sort of awkwardly, "-we live together."

"Oh, cool!" The guy hummed, "-That's always-"

"I'm 'eir boyfriend," Rick interrupted, hand shooting out to find yours -which he did fairly quickly. His tone was low, his accent strong, and your ex seemed to notice it -eyes darting to your connected hands.

Something fluttered along your mind -boyfriend. Have you said that yet? Was that the first time?

"Oh, shit," he stressed out -genuine surprise in his tone, "-You finally got the memo, Grimes?"

Rick's jaw tightened, and you squeezed your connected hands once. Trying to calm him down, you'd forgotten how protective he was -even when you were friends.

You remember him physically shielding you from exes, showing up to your house when you called and said they wouldn't leave you alone. Shane was always more physical, offering to punch them in the face or even doing it without warning -Rick was more of a presence. Something commanding in how he held himself.

"Yeah," he answered, shortly, "-got together aboutta year an' a half ago."

You hadn't even realized it had been that long, Rick was so ingrained into your day. It was like you couldn't picture life before him, even though you knew it was happy. It just shied in comparison to what you lived now.

"Wow, that's incredible," he smiled -somewhat genuinely, "-I know you've had a thing for him for a while, so I'm happy for you. Glad you guys could figure it out."

You shifted, uncomfortably -had he known when you were dating too?

"Thanks," you offered -simply. The grudge that had been instilled in you long ago was long gone, labeled as 'high school stuff'. Felt like the end of the world then, but in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential.

Your relationship with him was special though, helped distract you and you even thought maybe your feelings for Rick had shifted. Later, you knew they hadn't but the heartbreak of what you did have with your ex didn't help any either.

"And, just to get it off my chest," he added -a little more serious, "-I'm sorry for how we ended things, wasn't fair to you."

Huh, you thought.

"No need," you assured, "-it was high school, we were young, didn't know any better."

He smiled then, seemingly happy with the exchange, "Well, I've gotta go, but I wish you guys the best, really. Remember me when the wedding comes, yeah?"

You stilled.

Rick laughed though, something in him lightening up, "I'll try."

"All I can ask for."

After that, Rick continued sorting through the snacks -trying to find the right one. ("Maybe 'ey just don't 'ave it, baby, we can try the next store if ya want.") You'd said something about it not being worth it, you could ask him later next week -see exactly which one he liked.

You were there, physically, for the rest of the trip, but something in your mind was running at 100 miles an hour.

Rick had thought about marriage? With you?

It didn't come up until you got home, you and Rick carrying bags in and sorting through them in the kitchen. As a pair, you were a well-oiled machine, and something in your chest warmed at seeing him so comfortable. He was so used to it now.

It was his home too, after all. You just still couldn't wrap your head around that.

"Baby?" He interrupted your train of thought, shaking a box of macaroni in front of your face -asking where to put it, you realized.

"Far cabinet on the right," you answered, but his eyes didn't move from you -he could tell something was off. Always could.

He set the box on the counter, pulling you from the bag you were working on -tilting your head to face him. You followed without hesitation, somewhat on instinct.

"Ya alright?" He echoed -concerned, you could tell by the pull of his brow, "-'ve been so spacy since the grocery store."

"What, yeah," you hummed, blinking away the thought process -or trying to, anyway.

Rick raised an eyebrow. He could always see right through you. You didn't know how he did that-

"You," you bit your lip -eyes darting to the bags on the floor, noting how much you had left, "-Have you really thought about marrying me?"

He laughed a little then, pulling you forward and kissing you solidly -you let him, "Ya had me worried 'ere, baby."

"Rick," you said -pointedly.

"I know, I know," he hummed, smoothing his thumb along your cheek, "'s just an easy answer."

You paused, heart on your tongue -maybe even a little pathetically, "Really?"

"'Course," he stressed -grin spread across his lips, "-I love ya, don't I? Why wouldn't I think 'bout our future?"

"Well, our future is one thing," you echoed, "-but marriage... You've thought about it. That's... That's a big deal."

"Is it?" He teased.

"Rick."

"Okay, yeah," he exhaled, getting serious, hands staying cupped on your cheeks, "-I've thought 'bout it. A lot. I got this picture of a white house with a big ol' yard and a garden. Two rockin' chairs on the front porch, the works."

"Really?" Your heart felt like it was in your throat, and it was the only word you could come up with.

"Yeah," he smiled, warm, something softer in his eyes now -affectionate, "-'s just a dream though, gotta work out some kinks."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one," he hummed, "-your job. Ya love it 'ere, I don't wanna take 'at away from ya. Two, location, 'M not too sure 'ey got any white houses for sale out 'ere-"

It slipped out before you could think about it, "'Could always build one."

Rick paused, smiling at you in a certain type of way, before deciding, "I'd build ya a house."

You laughed.

"Ya want one?" He asked -somewhat genuinely, "-I'll build you a house, if ya want one, baby."

"Rick," you laughed, "-be serious."

"I am," he spoke -voice certain, serious, "-I'll give ya anythin' you want."

"Rick, come on, that's-"

You looked at him, really looked at him. His blue eyes said all they needed to.

"Come on," you echoed out -in disbelief, "-you cannot just build a house for me. Do you even know how to do that?"

"Sure I do," he clarified, "-my Dad taught me a lot."

"Not about building houses," you laughed -a bit in shock.

He seemed so serious. you'd been in committed relationships before, but a house? Someone building you a house?

He really couldn't be serious.

"Taught me about buildin'," he offered -tone so stable, unshakeable, "-and whose to say I can't get any help?"

"You are not building me a house, Rick," you laughed out -still reeling, "-we're not even engaged-"

Rick looked at you, solidly, all of his attention -it made the laughter cut short from your lips. There was intention there, in his eyes -something so vulnerable, so open. It was like he was saying everything at once and nothing at all.

You don't know what about it told you, but something did.

He had a ring.

"You... You don't-" you spoke -disbelief coating your words. It felt like nothing was coming to your lips, or everything was. You couldn't decide, "-Rick."

"'Was just instinct," he replied honestly, "-saw it and it just... it was yours."

"Rick," you stressed again but it was weak -something bubbling up your throat, "-we've... we've only been dating a year and a half."

"'Ve known each other a lot longer," he reasoned, "-'supposed to really know someone ya marry. And I really know you."

You fell silent.

"And, as much as I hate it sometimes," he let out a long breath, "-you really know me too."

"Rick," you muttered out -it was all you could say.

"If ya want more time, I get it," he quickly said, making sure you were looking at him -tilting your chin up with his hand, "-I can wait. But I'm ready, 'ave been."

Your eyes were teary now, as you stared at him. Taking him in. Not only had he thought about marrying you, but he had a ring and a plan and a dream with you in it.

You just said all you could think of.

"You better not be proposing to me over grocery bags in our kitchen right now."

Rick laughed then, a rumble through his chest, "Don't 'ave to be. Unless you want it."

You tried to wipe at your eyes, but his thumbs swiped the tears away instead, "What the hell are we supposed to tell people? 'He just offered to build me a house in our kitchen'?"

"You 'aven't even seen the ring yet," he laughed, but something in him different -excited, happy, beyond happy.

"God," you suddenly startled, somewhat ignoring his words, "-what are we going to tell Bonnie?"

Rick stared at you again -telling.

"She knows?"

"Told her when I found it," he hummed -pulling your face forward to kiss your forehead, "-asked her 'at I should do. 'If it feels right, it feels right.'"

"You are such a momma's boy, Grimes."

"'Ey," he spoke -defensive, with no bite. He was smiling too big for you to take him seriously.

"You know I'm right," you gloated, before settling into another thought, "-Shane's going to be so pissed he wasn't involved."

"In what?"

"The proposal," you answered -as if it was obvious.

"So, this is the proposal?" He asked, smiling biting through his lips, "-Ya want me to be proposin'?"

You pursed your lips, trying to hold back the creeping smile, "I haven't even seen the ring yet."

"I said 'at," he laughed -just so very delighted, "-you weren't listenin' to me."

"Show it to me," you grinned, bouncing on your toes, "-I wanna see."

"I don't 'ave it on me," he laughed at your insistence, "-I hid it away."

"So?" You asked, something in your stomach swirling, "-Go get it then."

"Bossy," he hummed, throwing up his hands in surrender -roaming down past the living room. It was the opposite way of your bedroom.

Where did he-

He abruptly turned into a doorway.

Carl's room.

It was smart, you never would have looked there. Not that you'd be looking anyway, a few minutes ago you didn't even know he'd thought about marrying you-

A lot was happening, but you somehow weren't scared. Not really. You knew Rick, like the back of your hand, and living with him had been so natural, so easy. So much so, that he almost didn't even have to ask to move in. It felt right, even when you argued, you knew it was for a purpose -never letting it further than it needed to be. You had both learned what a mature solution was and knew how to handle it all. He'd never stormed out angry and neither had you. Ever.

You'd thought before that maybe if you had been together when you were younger, it might not have worked. You might have broken up, but the time and the experience, you got it right. With Rick, this was... right.

You'd never felt more stable with somebody. And you weren't sure what your life would be like without him in it. Wasn't that what marriage was about? Adapting, learning, knowing, loving.

Your relationship with Rick was the most serious you'd ever been in, even before the marriage topic. You'd just known, if this went anywhere it would go far.

And maybe you hadn't hoped as far as marriage, but you had pictured years at least.

You heard his footsteps before you saw him, the slow drag of his feet -you knew it well, could recognize him by his footsteps. ("You really know me too.")

And there was a pounding in your chest then, but you weren't scared. It was anticipation, excitement.

Rick wandered up to you, the little box held tightly in his hand -something in him nervous, you could tell. It made your head spin, you couldn't stand still. It felt like your heart was running at 100 miles an hour, as you stared at his hand.

It was a tiny wooden box, nothing too special. But still, your heart clamored into your throat -darting between him and the box, back and forth, back and forth-

"Ya want me on one knee?" He asked -playfully, but something was biting at him. Nerves.

You laughed, fidgeting with your hands, "Yeah, of course. Aren't you going to do it properly? Aren't you a gentleman?"

"'S 'at mean you want this? Now?"

You pursed your lips, hiding a smile, "Isn't that the whole point of asking?"

Rick shook his head -smiling, and as promised -got on one knee.

It was suddenly very real. You'd always imagined this moment, in a fairytale sort of way. Where the music swells, and maybe you're in front of a national monument, or maybe he had just saved your life, or maybe he'd just given you this big speech about how he can't live without you-

But this, this was very simple.

It was just Rick, still in his pajama pants and with a little bit of a bedhead, knelt down in-between plastic grocery bags. There was no lavish dinners, no beautiful sunset. You hadn't even actually eaten breakfast yet-

But even still, your heart leap in your throat and your eyes got all misty.

"Shit," you mumbled out, tears ready to pour, "-you were... this is real."

Rick laughed, something so affectionate in his eyes, "I 'aven't even opened the box yet, baby, and you're already cryin'."

"Shut up, Grimes," you groaned out -laughing, even if it sounded a little like sobs.

"Ain't I supposed to be talkin'?"

"You know what I mean," you rolled your eyes, sniffling.

Rick smiled again, and it was bright and bubbly -your whole chest felt like it was about to explode. You never could imagine how this felt, how your life would lead to this -the person you love, offering themselves up forever. Forever.

"I love you," he started, and you could feel the waterworks, "-even tho' I'm a little late, I love ya so fully 'at I think I can't move forward anymore without you. You're not in my life, you're a piece of me. A piece of me 'at I can't lose, ever, and I don't want to."

Your took a shaky breath in.

"I want ya forever," he continued, and you could see the shine of tears in his eyes, "-I want all of this forever. I want you wakin' up beside me in the mornin' and the last face I see at night until we're old and gray. I'll build ya a fuckin' house, and we'll rock on the front porch together until the sun goes down-"

You laughed, a little wet and teary but a laugh all the same.

Rick was slower now, tone heavy with intent, "And I never imagined me and you like this all those years ago, but I... I can't think of anythin' more perfect now."

"Rick," you whispered out, the breaths in your chest hollow.

"Marry me," he echoed out, almost pleading, "-We were a few years too late, and I don't want ya waitin' on me anymore. So, marry me."

"Yes," you nearly spilled out before he could finish, "-holy shit, yes. I'll marry you."

Rick grinned, big and wide.

"Even if you just proposed to me over some grocery bags-"

"Oh, shut up," he laughed, standing up and pulling the ring from its box.

Your laughter was cut short, in all this commotion, you hadn't even noticed the ring. All you could look at was Rick, and you just loved him so much your eyes wouldn't move.

And now it was pinched between his fingers -shiny, beautiful. Nothing too big, something simple.

You hadn't thought about a ring, but it was somehow everything you wanted.

"You like it?"

His blue eyes were trained on you -just looking. Hopeful, nervous, maybe? Like he'd really wanted you to like it. Something in you warmed.

"Yeah," you whispered -eyes still a little misty.

He smiled, big and bright -so very happy, "Yeah?"

"You did a good job, Grimes," you wiped at your eyes -extending your hand out.

Rick smiled, you don't know if he ever stopped, carefully taking your hand and pushing the ring onto your finger. His calloused fingertips held you so gently that it made your head spin -always did.

"You just called yourself my boyfriend for the first time," you mumbled out -gently.

"Hmm, baby?" Rick asked, eyes looking at your hand -the ring, "-Didn't hear ya."

"At the grocery store," you hummed, sniffling, "-you said you were my boyfriend for the first time."

Rick paused a moment, before laughing, gently moving his hands to cradle your face, "'At's cute."

"What?" You offered, "-I'm serious, Rick."

"Baby, I tell everyone," he contradicted, rubbing his thumbs over your skin, "-it'd be the first thin' out my mouth if I wasn't introducin' myself."

"When?" You asked -genuinely, "-Because you never-"

"All the time," he reiterated, "-called my Momma the day I moved in, told 'er. Some guy starts approachin' ya? Boyfriend. An old friend from high school? Oh, we're together now. 'At-"

He cupped your face, gently -like he thought you were the cutest thing in the world, "-must've been the first time you were listenin'."

"Well," you hummed, hands coming up to intertwine behind his neck -fingers twisting into his curls, "-you were about to jump the guy, so I was pretty hyperaware-"

"I was not aboutta jump 'im," Rick laughed, moving his hands to your waist in response -instinctively.

"You were," you echoed, twirling his hair in between your fingers, "-I know you. When he said you 'got the memo'? You were going to kick his ass, right there in the grocery store."

"'Was kinda fucked up for 'im to say," he conceded -barely muttering it.

You rolled your eyes, just looking at him -smiling big and wide, "What am I going to do with you, Grimes?"

"Marry me," he answered, smiling big like he won some sort of prize, "-You're gonna marry me."

"You're such a sap, Grimes," you swatted his shoulders, playfully.

"Can't keep callin' me 'at," he hummed, eyes a little hooded -you knew the look.

"Why?"

"You're gonna be a Grimes," he explained -a simple little smile smoothed across his mouth, "-What are ya goin' to do then?"

"First off," you started, "-whose to say you're not taking my name-"

Rick hummed, a grin bright on his face like you talking about it made him deliriously happy. And the way he was looking at you right now, you would bet he was.

"Secondly, doesn't mean I can't still call you Grimes. You're still the original one."

"I'd take your name," he said -absentmindedly, fingers gently pressed into the skin of your waist -making you sway, "-ya want me to take your name?"

"Rick," you laughed, "-we can't do that to Bonnie."

"Just sayin'."

"And," you interrupted, flicking your eyes down to your hands -a little embarrassed, "-I've been doodling 'Y/N Grimes' into notebook margins since I was 16 so-"

Rick grinned, bright -something in him nearly giddy, "Really? 'S 'at why I could never use your notes?"

You frowned -embarrassed, "No."

"Oh my god," he gushed, all smiley and so excited, "-do ya still 'ave some of 'em? Please tell me ya do-"

"Rick, seriously? You want me to dig up old notebooks-"

"'S just so cute, baby," he teased, genuine, "-I gotta see it."

You huffed out a breath like you didn't know exactly where they were. Or like you didn't know you'd kept them in the closet, just to hopefully laugh at someday when you did move on-

Or maybe like you didn't keep them to read when you missed him.

"Did ya doodle lil' hearts too?"

"You're not funny, Grimes," you shot back but there was no bite.

"Not jokin'," he drawled, eyes so intently on yours, "-I wanna see 'em in my head. Maybe I'll get one tattooed on my heart-"

"Rick-" you shoved him but not far enough for you to completely let go.

Your steps fumbled forward, and the crinkle of the bags -brought your attention back to the floor. Right, you had just gone grocery shopping.

"Shit," you huffed, "-we need to put this stuff up, can't let anything thaw-"

"'S not gonna thaw," Rick countered.

"I'm being serious," you stressed, "-we can't just leave this all here."

"We could," he neatly replied.

"Rick-" and then you looked at him. He was looking at you in a certain type of way, you knew exactly the type of way.

"We should celebrate," he hummed, eyes low to match your lips, "-just got engaged."

"Rick," you chided, "-seriously."

"I'm perfectly serious, baby," he said it the way he always did. The way he did the first time, and even still you felt a jump in your pulse.

You weren't faltering, not this time. If he wanted to play dirty, so would you.

You stood ever-so-slightly on your tippy-toes -holding his eyes, you trailed your fingers along his shoulders. His eyes held onto you like he was lost at shore and you were the lighthouse -like you held everything in your hands. Maybe a little like you were the everything.

You stood a breath away from him, a smooth sort of smirk ran across your lips -his breaths were hollow in his chest. Payback.

"What's a few more minutes, baby?"

You saw his eyes flicker with a few different things then, and with a breath, you abruptly pulled back.

Rick blinked, the hazy out of his eyes -watching you start gathering up the bags, "Really? Usin' my own words against me?"

"Hey," you shoved his shoulder, teasing, "-at least you know how I felt, baby."

He grinned too big to be mad, hands coming up to cup your face. You knew exactly where that was going-

You sidestepped out of his grip, "Help me with the bags, Grimes."

He frowned, leaning against the counter -time for a different tactic.

"Okay, fine-" you huffed out, putting your hands on your hips, "-if we can at least get the frozen things put-"

Rick scooped the bags (with the frozen foods) up with a grace unknown to you, and a speed you could hardly follow. Carelessly tossing them into the freezer, still in the bags, he slammed the top shut with the flick of a wrist.

He looked back up at you -blue, blue eyes.

"-up," you finished a little breathlessly -a bit in amazement, "-How did you do that?"

"'S a powerful motivator," he offered up -accent low.

Without so much as a breath, he beelined toward you. And before you could even blink, he had gathered you up in his arms -carrying you toward your room.

"Rick-" you laughed.

He kissed the rest of your words out of your mouth.

Eh, they weren't that important anyway.

#drunk on you #its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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cosmal · 2 years ago

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leith ross — send me a headcanon or a prompt + a character and i’ll write you a blurb.

ok so. I just know when remus lupin is sleepy he gets clingy. usually he’s not overly clingy but when he’s tired it gets bad. do what u will with that gf <3

lovely hair

summary remus won't let you shower when you get home.

content remus lupin x fem!afab!reader

note um yes this is him <3

You finish work and there are about three things on your mind. Dinner, taking your horrible shoes off, and your boyfriend who you know is about somewhere. You suspect his bedroom.

You sit down at his ottoman and slip your mary jane's off. You leave them on the rug and decide to deal with them later. You can hear Remus's heavy footsteps across his flat.

You head to where you know he is and crack the door open. He sits on his bed with a towel around his waist and another in his hair. "Rem," you say quietly, not to disturb the blanket of quiet. He drags the towel over his face and looks at you. Smiling.

"Baby," he says. He never calls you baby.

"Hello," you chirp. Moving over to him, you unzip your skirt for more relief. You stand between his legs and sigh.

"Missed you," he mumbles as you throw your arms over his shoulders, linked behind his neck. The towel guards you against the water on his skin.

"Yeah?" you ask. You can't help it when you take the hair at the nape of his neck between gentle fingers. You twist and twist until water beads between your pointer and thumb and drags down your palm.

"Had a long day," he admits and sounds more tired than he seems. He looks fresh and dewy from his shower, cheeks a tinge of pink, eyelashes sparkling with drops of water. Still, he blinks slowly and you can see his breaths becoming more shallow.

You take his towel from his shoulders before his back can get any worse, and pout on his behalf. "I'm sorry, honey," you say gently. With even worse hands, you start to dry his hair.

You're much more gentle than you know he would've been. You can see it's started to frizz where it falls around his eyes where he's been rough with it. You work the excess water from his hair, slow where you squeeze and ruffle his soft locks.

"Feels nice," he says. Voice quiet and thick when he speaks. You watch him close his eyes and lean back into your arms. He's adorable.

"Yeah, you're mean to your hair," you say just as quietly.

"Am not."

"You're too quick, you gotta do it slowly," you tell him and throw his damp towel through the open door of his bathroom. "You have such lovely hair."

He leans back in and pushes his face into your abdomen. Nose pressing into the fat of your belly, he sighs. He wraps his arms around your legs and the barrier of your work tights feels horrible. You need to feel his skin some more if you're honest about it.

"Wanna take off your skirt?" he says into your shirt.

"Yeah," you say back.

He lets you go with a touch of excitement. You giggle and bend down to tug it down your legs and step out of it. He's back on you before you know it.

"Can I get changed?" you ask, holding his face in your hands. You tug his cheeks back gently and brush your thumbs over their highest point.

He shakes his head and mumbles a no.

"Remus, I'm all smelly," you say with a wrinkled face. You'd push him off if you had it in you.

"No, you're not," he says firmly. "You smell like you."

"I've been at work all day, I wanna have a shower," you tell him through a laugh.

"But, I've already showered," he says, mildly put out.

It's a treasure, really, to see him like this. It's rare, he's never this touchy, this wanting. You're used to his silent pleas, the grabs and searching hands that he tries to keep minimal. Though, when he's tired like this he hasn't an ounce of resolve. He's much more pliable, you think.

"Remus," you say as firmly as you can manage. Not very, if you're honest.

"Just lay down with me for a little bit." It's not really a question and you don't blame him for it. You've felt the same way several times - most of the time - and he's never denied you. He sleeps in later than he should with you in the mornings, he lets you sit in his lap when you ask him, and he never says no when you ask to cuddle on his sofa. It's not in his nature.

You look at him, the last sparkles of dampness, the towel that's started to slip off his waist, and his soft tummy, and you suddenly don't think it's in your nature to say no to him either.

"Okay," you say much to his delight. His droopy eyes brighten more than you thought was possible. "Okay, we can do that."

He doesn't say anything intelligible, just tugs you down with him into his bed. You curl in on yourself, tucked into his side with his arm behind your head. You lay your arm over his naked torso and realise this is much better.

“Not long, though,” you say but you don’t want to. You’d hoped this wouldn’t happen. “Gotta have a shower and make dinner.”

“Can I shower with you?” he asks, hand smoothing a pattern up your arm and into the rumpled sleeve of your blouse.

“You’re not serious, are you?” you laugh and look at him through the crush of your eyelashes.

He looks like you’ve slapped him. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Your hair’s just dried, baby.” You twist another selfish finger through his damp hair in front of his face. He keens.

“I’ll sit on the toilet.” You think he actually Is being serious.

"C'mon, Remus. You're tired." You kiss his cheek. "I'll shower and then make us some soup or something." Then his other cheek and his top lip. He chases you blindly when you pull back.

"You've just finished work. You shower and I'll make dinner, yeah?"

You sigh. You don't think you'll win with him. "You sure? It won't take me long."

"I don't mind." He kisses like you wished you would've. Slow and warm against your mouth until you're hiccuping a gaspy sound that makes Remus want to cry.

"You're unbelievable," you sigh.

"I know."

It takes you an hour before you convince Remus to let you shower.

hoping this fixes the readmore

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x female reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader

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