#This ask hit me like a freight train (affectionate)
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hyliascommonwealth · 2 years ago
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Would it be a bad thing to simp for Viri?
//I want to study you in a lab.
Viri’s ego has never been more inflated.
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skunkox · 4 months ago
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Redacted Kisses pt 3
Where the characters and their Listeners prefer to give them.
♡♡♡
Gavin: Lips
As sexualy attuned as Gavin is, he's learning that even kisses on the lips can have different meanings. "I missed you." "Welcome home." "Im happy." "Relax, I've got it." "Thank you." As well spoken he may be, Gavin desires to communicate with his full physical being.
Deviant: Everywhere
What is Freelancer if not an equal opertunist? Not wanting Gavin to ever feel doubt of how they feel about him, they tend to act on compulsion in the terms of loving on him. Kisses big or small are frequent and at random. Gavin was definitely confused as to why these kisses occurred outside of extra curriculars before they officially started dating, but now cherishes each one.
Damien: Back
Damien still struggles to ask for affection or comfort. He knows Huxley would happily stop whatever he was doing to love on him. There are days where Damien just can't find the words to ask. Sometimes, he'll wrap his arms around Huxley from behind and slowly press a kiss on his spine. This always results in Huxley turning around for a proper kiss and hug.
Huxley: Top of Head
It's not a secret that Huxley is a hugger. It's not a secret that Damien is a bit of a busy body either. Huxley knows that there are times that getting Damien to slow down is like grabbing hold the end car of a freight train. Some days, however, Hux is able to latch on at just the right moment. He'd hold Damien close and tightly before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The first time it happened, Hux could have sworn steam came from his ears.
Lasko: Face
It took some work and encouragement from Dear for Lasko to start initiating kisses. They were a little half hazard , shaky, and unsure. One thing was certain. Lasko couldn't get enough of the goofy ass cheese on Dear's face when he did. Peppered kisses became a tool of comfort when he realized that they weren't as sure of themselves as they liked to pretend.
Dear: Earlobe
Zero shame when it comes to PDA or making Lasko flustered. Often enough, they feel the need to be affectionate in the workplace. Within the confinds of the campus grounds, it's easier to lean into Lasko's side as if telling a secret and give a small kiss to his ear. He still gets red, but it's the most discreet they are willing to be.
I am so sorry this took so long. Finally hit a break early this morning but was just too tired to finish it. It's been sitting in drafts for 3 months 😭
Anyways, if you guys have any other redacted characters you want for part 4, let me know. Pretty sure I promised a Guy x Honey.
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epithet-beloved · 1 year ago
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some Giovanni headcanons would be great. romantic, platonic, or something in between is up to you! He’s just a very caring guy and seems like a great friend to have
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DATING GIOVANNI POTAGE HEADCANONS
synopsis… Headcanons on what it’s like to date Giovanni Potage!
ft. Giovanni Potage, the Boys™, Bellatrix “Trixie” Roughhouse (mentioned), Moxie Roughhouse (mentioned), Molly Blyndeff (mentioned)
tags… relationship study, fluff, hurt/comfort, giovanni is an idiot (affectionate), reader is one of Giovanni’s minions, boy used as gender neutrally, epithet erased spoilers, just for moxie’s inclusion cause i love her
word count… 1101
a/n… GIOVANNI POTAGE THE PERFECT MAN too perfect actually give this man more narrative driven flaws ✧ 🦝
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 What’s it like having literally everyone be jealous of you
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 No I’m completely serious???? Giovanni treats you like ROYALTY. 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He’s down HORRENDOUSLY and it shows!!! He doesn’t care for time he’ll profess his undying love for you within a MINUTE of admitting his feelings for you.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite that… the wait for him actually realising his feelings… Agony.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 For so long, he’s convinced you’re just His Favourite Boy (totally platonic) and he does so many wonderful things for you (totally platonic), and he thinks you’re TOTALLY attractive but anyone would think that about someone as lovable as you! (totally absolutely platonic)
“Heh-heh-heeeyyy!!”  Giovanni calls when he sees you approaching.  He meets you halfway, arm swinging around your shoulder and nuzzling into you.  “How’s my favourite boy, huh?!”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Without even noticing, he’s affectionate with you. He calls it “practising platonic intimacy” and that you two shouldn’t be afraid of kissing each other’s cheeks or hugging. He does it with the Boys too, but you even more so.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Crusher and Spike are giving you such glaring side eyes.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You have to be perceptive to notice his growing feelings, because he’s totally convinced that what he feels for you is just intense Bromance. 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Hear me out thoooo, one day you’re hanging out just the two of you, and Giovanni asks out of the blue if you ever kissed anyone before.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’re of course going WHAT. What could possibly be going through his mind asking that?!
When your eyes widen and jaw drops, it clicks in Giovanni’s head what you’re thinking.  “Agh– Wait!  I meant like… just a quick one on the lips, y’know?  Like… y’ever kissed a friend, just ‘cause?”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Oh you know where this is going.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He admits to you that he never kissed anyone on the lips before.  He just wants to see what it’s like – and he trusts you!  You’re his favourite boy after all.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 So you kissed.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 And oh boy it’s like a freight train hits him.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You pull away and he’s beet red, staring up at you, nearly curling in on himself as he just makes a face of awe.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He tells you then and there he thinks he’s in love with you.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ugh he’s everything.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He loves taking you to family events!  You’re dating now, so you’re practically family!! They’re all important to him, so it’s pretty much law for you to get along before things continue.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 His moms are shocked he has a partner, even informing you to your face that they never thought it would happen. They approve of you though, and you’re welcome around anytime as long no funny business occurs! 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Trixie nearly went to join the ghosts when they found out their cousin has a partner. Like that just doesn’t compute in their head.  Later, they pull you aside and asks you if you’ve been tricked, if it’s just so people think Giovanni has game, basically confirming with you that you and Giovanni are a thing. Passed away peacefully when you say it’s all true.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Moxie is also a protective one.  Makes a beeline to you when you’re alone and starts interrogating.
“Whaddya want with Giovanni!?”  The girl hisses with crossed arms.  You don’t know what you did to set her off…  “Ya better not hurt him!  Dude’s sensitive!” You shake your head, put off by her aggression.  “I don’t want to hurt him!  Promise!” Moxie squints, and does the ‘I’m watching you’ action before turning on her heel and rejoining the group.  You heave a sigh of relief.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’d ask about Moxie later to Giovanni, and to your surprise, he seems to dance around the topic.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It’s only later in your relationship does he admit to you this is his first time dating someone for real.  He relays a story that he got asked out to a high school dance just as a joke, and got ditched.  Moxie was the one to spend the night with him in their stuffy suit and dress their parents forced them into at some local gas station.  That’s why she’s so protective. 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He tells you that it’s probably the first time that he wondered if something is wrong with him, if he’s too focused on being his most authentic self that people just don’t like it – like him. 
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Promise the guy that you love him for who he is.  He’ll be devoted to you indelibly from then on.
“Y-Yo,” Giovanni nervously laughs as you embrace him gently after his story.  You hear him sniff, as if trying his hardest to look cool and unaffected by the past event.  “I’m over it now, y’know?  It’s been years.” You pull him closer to you and pet his hair, Giovanni almost melts.  “No.  No one should treat my favourite boy like that.” Giovanni honestly believes he fell in love all over again.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 It’s after that point that Giovanni truly feels like he’s loved, and you’re not just taking pity on him by being with him.  He knows you love him, and he knows he loves you too.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ENOUGH RELATIONSHIP PROGRESSION LET’S GET INTO THE GOOD STUFF
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You and him are basically Molly’s surrogate parents.  Don’t be surprised if she accidentally refers to you with a parental title.  She’ll be mortified, but laugh it off and pet her head and she breathes a sigh of relief.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Call him Vonni.  Gio is the nickname his friends normally use for him, but Vonni just feels so much fuzzier in his insides.  Melts him every time.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 He’s also weak when you call him ‘boss’; do that and he’ll be at your beck and call, like a good boss should be!
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 LOVES taking you out to the mall just to try on cute clothes, get your nails done, or doing cool guy things like loitering in front of a truck.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Listen to me.  I am speaking directly in your ear.  The biggest of all the great Giovanni Potage’s weaknesses?  Play with his little scruff of beard when you kiss.  Do that and you’ll send him straight to Epithet Jesus.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Dates include finding a snail on the path and just staring at it as it travels along and also you’re holding hands so it’s intimate.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I KNOW this man has a wikipedia addiction.  He’s your best bet for trivia night because he just has knowledge in the weirdest places because he keeps going on wikipedia dives.  You’re a dynamic duo of useless knowledge.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Overall, your relationship is just the sweetest thing.  Don’t tell anyone, but he secretly fantasises about opening a bistro and restaurant with you someday in the future.  When he’s committed, trust and believe he commits.  
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haveihitanerve · 5 months ago
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The League would admit they knew very little about Batman. They didn't know his age, his identity, hell they didn't even know his favorite food. But they did, however, know he had kids. How many was still unclear, but the Bat had used the plural form while comforting a civilian once, so thats what they based it off of. And while he was certainly tight lipped about many things, talking about his kids, or bragging really, wasn't one of them. "Bats really loves his kids huh?" Barry murmured to Hal as they watched Batman inform Wonder Woman about one of his children. "I mean they're babies, wait till they hit the angsty teens and I'm sure we'll be hearing the opposite." Hal muttered back. Barry snorted. "maybe if he's raising you. If his kids are anything like me he'll keep talking like this." Hal couldn't hold back a laugh at that. "Batman." Superman entered the room. Hal and Barry looked over at him in interest, and Batman stopped talking, turning to face him. "yes?" "You have a visitor." The alien said, and Hal could see his lips twitch, though he tried to hide it. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Who?" "Why me of course!" Twittered a voice and a black and blue blur cartwheeled into the room, landing confidently with hands on his hips long enough for them to take in his wide easy smile and his dark black hair before he was moving again, slamming into Batman with the force of a freight train. Batman didn't even twitch, didn't even take one step back to balance himself, just grunted lightly as the man wrapped himself around him like an affectionate leech. "Did you miss me?" The newcomer murmured, face pressed into Batman's chest. Batman grunted, which must have been the right sound to make because the man lit up, pressing a kiss to Batman's cheek. "aww i knew you did." Batman grunted again and the man unfurled himself from his side, landing on his feet instead. "Um, uh, hey there. Batsy, who is this?" Hal stuttered out. Batman glanced over at them, opening his mouth to respond, but the newcomer beat him to it. "I'm Nightwing! It's a pleasure to meet you." "nice to meet you too." Barry smiled, almost as enthusiastic, shaking his hand. "Why are you here?" Batman asked bluntly, but Nightwing didn't seem at all perturbed by his less than friendly question. "Well uh, Little Wing locked himself in his room and try as we might we can't get him out, you know he hasn't slept." Batman sighed. "Alright. I'll be home just as soon as I finish today okay? Try to feed him at least." Nightwing nodded. "Will do." "Wait- hang on, sorry." Hal interrupted. "You- you'll be home? Who- are you his-?" Nightwing's entire body spasmed with delight. "You mean B hasn't told you about me?" he gasped in outrage, spinning to look at the other man. Batman raised an eyebrow. "I did. Hal, Barry, this is Nightwing. My son." If Hal's jaw could have dislocated from his body it would have been back on Earth. "THIS?" Barry sputtered. They looked at each other. "That- that is a grown ass adult!" Hal exclaimed. Nightwing looked at him in amusement. "has dear old dad been giving you the wrong impression?" He asked. "You are not a precious little thing! You are not a baby!" Barry half cried. "You could snap me half!" "Like a twig." Wonder Woman agreed. "I won't." Nightwing assured him, far too confident and unbothered. "But you could." Hal stressed. Nightwing laughed. "Perhaps. I am Bat-trained after all." He winked backwards at his father. "anyway, I gotta get back. It was nice meeting you." And just as fast as he had come he was gone again, a blur of black and blue. Hal and Barry stared at Batman.
It was about a week later, when they had still not recovered from the shock of Nightwing being Batman's son, when they ran into Red Hood. The Red Hood. Leather jacket, signature red hood, multitudes of guns strapped to his body. Hal readied his ring. But the man just draped himself across Batman's with all the confidence in the world, releasing a sigh. "The brat broke into my safe house again." He whined, voice pitched surprisingly high for a man with his size and stature. "to steal my dog." Hal almost dropped his ring. And Batman, Batman, Mr. I hate guns and won't use them and they're bad, just looked at him, a soft smile on his face even as Red Hood waved at least two guns around his nose, and said calmly. "He just wants to spend time with his big brother. Maybe take him to the zoo next time." Barry was looking between them in confusion. "It can't be." He muttered. Superman coughed into his fist. "It is." He confirmed. "H-how?" Hal whimpered. "That is also not a baby! He's almost bigger than Bats! He could break Bats in half!" Superman chuckled. "But he won't." "But he could!" Both Hal and Barry half shouted. Batman and Red Hood glanced over. "Alright Old man I gotta go." "Alright. Drive safe kiddo." Red Hood rolled his eyes. "Its Gotham." Batman leveled him with a look and the Red Hood, the Red Hood, crime lord and gang boss, raised his hands in surrender, sticking his guns in his pockets. "Yeah alright whatever. See you at home." Hal was gaping like a fish.
"Did you have a good weekend Batman?" Superman asked, leaning against the Bats desk with a cup of coffee in his hands. Batman nodded, smiling faintly. "yeah. My babies went for a walk in the park yesterday. Red brought the dog. It was good." Hal and Barry collapsed and had a mental breakdown.
A year later, when they finally met Robin, the one who was, in fact, a child, they only had a moment of relief before the kid pulled out a katana. Batman smiled.
Love the slight AUs where Bruce as Batman has been a member of the league for ages, but he's somehow managed to keep his assortment of children under the radar.
Because it sets up the wildest misunderstandings within the league. He routinely talks about his babies, his children who are all so sweet and kind and occasionally assholes yes but only because they are young (and traumatized) hell I don't think the league would even be aware that they're adopted. So they're all thinking literal children
Barry: Bats really loves his kids.
Hal: I mean they're babies, wait till they hit the angsty teens and I'm sure we'll be hearing the opposite
Which means the day they finally meet Nightwing they don't know wtf to think. For one thing, how old would he have been when he had this kid???? Should they be worried about that???? And for the other, that is not a baby, that is not a precious little thing.
He could break someone in half. Like a twig.
He won't, but he could. And they can see that. (He's bat trained, they have seen what the bat can do they are not fools)
And they're like, okay. Okay maybe he isn't the baby (he is). He's got younger kids right? He's never said how many, they have 0 clues. They've been expecting 1 child, maybe 2 because he'd said kid in the plural exactly once when comforting an older woman while they were searching for her children in the aftermath of a rough battle.
And then a week later they run into Red Hood. In his leather, with his guns. And he drapes himself across Batmans back with all the self confidence in the world and starts whining about the "Brat" breaking into his safe house.
To steal his dog.
And yet again. He is not baby. He is bigger than Batman. He could probably break Batman in half given the bat didn't put up a fight. But Batman looks at him with probably the softest expression they've ever seen on that mans face and tells him very earnestly that the kid just wants to spend time with his older brother, next time they should try a walk. Maybe go to the zoo.
But probably not one of the babies. They're kind, and gentle, and at least one just loves reading and Bats has been trying to encourage that!!!
And then a day later he mentions his "babies" going for a walk in the park and they all instantaneously lose their minds at the confirmation.
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comphy-and-cozy · 3 years ago
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NHL!Michael Blurb // "Let's have a baby."
For the anon who requested #49 ("Let's have a baby"). I took the liberty of making this deliciously filthy and smutty.
NSFW/Smut under the cut. ~3.5K words. Breeding/pregnancy kink. Some daddy kink, too.
Unofficial part 2 here.
#49: “Let’s have a baby.”
You’re in the kitchen when he says it, unbuckling your heels from the team function you just came back from. Facing the counter, one hand supports you as you slip your feet out of the shoes.
“Let’s have a baby, or let’s make a baby?” you ask, brow quirked to yourself. “There’s a big difference.”
You feel the warmth of Michael’s body approach behind you, hands resting on your hips. He presses his lips against your shoulder in an affectionate gesture that you know has more meaning behind it. He hums, lips sliding toward your neck. “Both?”
You turn in his arms, stopping his movements as you look him in the eyes, trying to gauge how serious he is. “Michael —“
“If we start trying now, there’s a better chance that they can be born in the offseason,” he explains, voice logical.
You raise your eyebrows, surprised at his thought out rationale. “Oh, so you’ve thought about this.”
“I always think about knocking you up.”
You roll your eyes, and he grins. Michael’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, and he adds, “I’m serious, though. I want to start a family with you.”
“Babies are a lot of work,” you point out, not convinced that he really understands the magnitude of bringing life into the world; you assume he’s just trying a new tactic of getting you naked. “It’s different from Gus.”
“I know.”
“We have to feed it and bathe it and teach it life skills and lessons and —“
“Y/N, I know.”
You pause, biting your lip as your arms circle around his neck. You’d wanted to be a mom for as long as you could remember, that feeling only becoming more prominent as your relationship with Michael blossomed. Now, the ring on your left ring finger holds a different weight, symbolizing the security and stability you didn’t realize you had been waiting for.
His eyes watch you, as if he’s trying to hear the train of thoughts chugging through your mind; he gauges how long he should let you ponder.
“Angel,” he presses on after a moment. “I want to be a dad. I want to be a parent with you. I’m ready. If you still are.”
Your eyes slide back up to his, and you see the sincerity in his gaze. Suddenly shy, you shrink in his arms as the realization hits you that this is real.
“What if you think I’m ugly when I’m all bloated and pregnant?”
Michael’s large hands flex slightly on your hips and his gaze becomes more intense, but his smile is the opposite, full of love and adoration as he looks at you. “I could never think that, baby.”
You’re not convinced, but then his hips press into yours, letting you know exactly how much he likes the image, and suddenly the mood in the kitchen has drastically changed. His hands move to grip your hips tighter, and he leans in to kiss you; it’s sweet, but you can feel the heat behind it that he’s trying to contain, waiting for your ‘official’ approval.
You’re ready; you know you are, and it really isn’t much of a decision — the source of your hesitation is more that you sort of can’t believe you’re really going to do this. With just a simple nod, you let him know that the light is green. You feel his lips curl into a grin against yours before he’s kissing you with full force, letting the hunger inside of him take over.
Michael’s tongue meets yours, carving out a space in your mouth as his hands pull you against him. His mouth is quick to move to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin before he murmurs in your ear, “You’re going to look so fucking sexy carrying my baby.”
A shiver runs down your spine, going straight to your core at his words. Michael walks you backwards until your bottom hits the edge of the counter, and he effortlessly lifts you up until you’re sitting on it. He pulls his mouth away from yours to smirk at you for a moment, then spreads your legs and steps between them, pulling you close once again before seeking out the skin on your neck.
You hum with pleasure, each kiss earning more goosebumps along your skin as you feel the wetness between your legs growing.
“Michael,” you whine. “Please.”
“Needy already, are we?” he teases. “Have patience, angel. Gotta get you nice and ready for me, yeah?”
Michael follows through on his statement by tugging your hips forward, placing a hand behind your back to gently lay you down against the granite countertop. It’s cold against your skin, but you’re distracted quickly when he kisses your calf, trailing his lips up your leg as he bunches the skirt of your dress up your thighs. Your back arches when his mouth presses against your core through the fabric of your panties, his tongue licking the material barrier.
Soon, but not soon enough, his fingers curl into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. Your eyes watch him as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, and you wish that you could see into his mind and hear all of his filthy thoughts.
“She’s so gorgeous,” he murmurs, settling between your legs and allowing them to drape over his shoulders. He’s speaking to you, but his eyes haven’t left your core. “Such a pretty pussy.”
You shiver under his praise, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a kiss to your lower lips, slowly and sensually dipping his tongue in your entrance. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”
Michael’s tongue explores your pussy as if it’s his first time, taking his time even though he knows each and every spot. He’s always been the kind of guy who genuinely enjoys eating pussy, treating it like an art rather than a chore. He kisses your clit before flicking it gently with the tip of his tongue, drawing delicate circles around it that have your head spinning in no time.
Large hands hold your hips in place as he all but makes love to your pussy, tongue delving inside you and through each fold. His nose nudges your clit, and you stifle a moan when his tongue flattens against you. One hand trails to meet his mouth, dipping a finger inside you to work in tandem with his lips wrapping around your clit.
Your mind is blank, empty save for relishing the heated euphoria Michael is providing you, working you with his practiced rhythm in the way that always leaves you breathless. He said he wanted to get you ready, but with the cadence he’s set, you know he wants to make you come, and hard. By the way the heat is flooding your belly, it seems like he’ll achieve his goal quicker than expected.
“That’s it, baby,” he mouths against you, his voice muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. “Can feel you.”
Fingers curling upward, he all but grins at the cry you let out as he strikes your g-spot, probing it while his tongue continues it’s assault on your clit. The pressure inside you snaps, hitting you like a freight train, and your body goes rigid as your release rips through you. Michael doesn’t relent, his fingers and tongue working to drag out the waves of your orgasm that have now dulled to an intense ripple.
Once he’s satisfied with your weak whimpers, he slows his movements before gingerly removing his hand, inserting the same fingers into his mouth to suck off the remaining excess.
“Michael,” you moan, the sight nearly too much to handle in combination with your climax. “Need you.”
He chuckles softly, standing to lean over you. His mouth is coated in a layer of your slick, but you reach up to kiss him anyways, tasting yourself as he wastes no time in plunging his tongue in your mouth the same way he had done to your pussy just moments prior. In an instant, the action has your orgasmic haze clearing, making way for a fresh, and strong, wave of desire.
“I don’t think the kitchen counter is the right spot to make a baby, do you?” he asks, hands sliding under your ass to lift you into his arms. Wouldn’t be the worst spot, you think to yourself, but you tuck your arms around his neck anyways.
“Nah,” he says. “Want to do it properly, in bed.”
If your lips weren’t so busy seeking out his, you might be embarrassed that you said that out loud, but instead you’re focused on wrapping your legs around him as he begins to carry you through the house. Eventually he makes his way to the bedroom, gently dropping you on the mattress, crawling over you in an instant.
Michael’s hands slide up your sides, helping you to remove your dress, then your bra, and he pauses to take in the sight of you naked beneath him.
“Never gets old,” he comments, eyes staring at your breasts.
“Michael, you saw them this morning,” you laugh, and he shakes his head.
“Doesn’t matter. They’re still perfect.”
You respond by tugging at his shirt until he pulls it over his head, and as your eyes trail over the cut muscles of his body, you suddenly understand his sentiment — you will never grow tired of this view. You’re distracted, though, when he unzips his pants and kicks them down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs with a sizable tent in them.
Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, you do your best to quell the moan that bubbles in your throat, anticipation thrumming through your veins. Michael knows, and he gives a cocky smirk. “You want it, don’t you, angel?”
You drag your eyes up to his, giving your best sultry ‘fuck me’ eyes as you nod, refusing to give into the temptation to yell, “Yes, please, please, please.”
Your feet slide up his legs and make their best attempt at pushing his boxer briefs down his legs, half succeeding before he’s smirking again, leaning back to help you remove them completely. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, finally naked and bare for you, just as you are for him.
He’s in a teasing mood, you can tell, and instead of letting him, you take matters into your own hands by reaching out to fist his length. He’s hard in your hand, skin soft as velvet, as you pump your hand while maintaining solid eye contact with him.
Michael isn’t pleased with your act of defiance, but your hand feels too damn good to ignore, and a groan of pleasure sounds from his chest as you give him a squeeze. His eyes watch you, glittering, while you shift onto your knees on the bed to take him into your mouth.
He groans out at the feeling, hand moving to tangle loosely in your hair as you work your lips around him. He’s heavy, and big, and you have always enjoyed the challenge of fitting as much of him into your throat as you can. Steeling yourself, you relax enough to take him deeper, tongue flattening against the underside of his dick.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunts out. “Such a perfect, pretty mouth you have, baby.”
You bob your head, finding a rhythm, tongue working sinfully in tandem with your lips and the suction of your mouth. Even after all these years, he is still in awe that he married the world’s best dick sucker, and that he’s going to get blowjobs like this for the rest of his life.
Slowly, your rhythm melds into his as he begins to gently move his hips, thrusting into your mouth cautiously. Once he’s sure you’re ready by the telltale sign of your fingers flexing on his thighs, he takes over the movement, fucking your mouth as he hits the back of your throat each time.
“Mmm,” he hums, fingers gripping your hair a bit tighter. “So good for me.”
Each thrust and groan from his mouth draws more arousal to your own core, thoroughly enjoying how much pleasure you are providing to him. With one hand bracing yourself on the bed, holding yourself steady, you move your other hand between your legs, rubbing circles over your clit. Michael, of course, takes note of this quickly, chuckling darkly. He knows how much you enjoy this, and it turns him on wildly to know that getting him off also gets you off.
Pulling away from your mouth, Michael bites his lip at the sight of his dick emerging from your lips, swollen and covered in saliva, as a string connects your mouth to his tip even as he pulls away.
“As much as I love to fuck your pretty little throat, I’m afraid I won’t be cumming there anymore. Have to save all of this cum for your pretty little pussy, yeah?”
You let out an unabashed moan at his words, feeling yourself clench down onto nothing at the thought. Michael presses forward, leaning down to kiss you as he gently pushes you backward, tangling your legs around his hips while he crawls on top of you.
He settles between your legs, his hard cock resting so close to where you need him most, but instead of giving you what you want, he cages your head between his muscular arms, gazing down at you.
“You like that, angel?” his voice is low as he weaves his hand down your body, toying teasingly at your entrance; he smirks upon feeling just how drenched you are for him, welcoming his fingers greedily. “Oh, yeah, you fucking love it, huh? You can’t wait for me to fuck a baby into you, can you?”
If his grade-A pussy eating skills don’t have you soaked, his words certainly do, and you feel your muscles clench weakly around nothing, aching for him to be inside you.
Michael kisses you deeply, and you can’t help the whimper that he swallows down as he grinds himself against you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers clutching onto him as you try to focus on anything but the throbbing between your legs. You’re desperate for him, needing to feel some sort of friction and the delicious stretch of him inside of you.
“Michael, please,” you whimper, “Please.”
“Please, what, angel?” he asks, teasing you as he leans back to rub the head of his cock along your dripping slit.
“Please, fuck me,” you moan, and Michael hums in approval.
“That’s my girl,” he praises you, enjoying the effect he clearly has on you.
He adjusts, bracing his arms on your sides before he slides into you slowly, eyes glued to your face as your mouth opens in a silent moan. The sex was always good with him, but there was nothing quite like the first stretch around his thick length as your bodies connect into one.
Your nerves tingle as he works himself into you, leaning forward to touch his forehead to yours in a sweet gesture that you’d normally appreciate more if you weren’t desperately in need of more. His hot breath fans over your face, but you’re too busy focusing on the way he feels moving in and out of you, igniting the fire in your core with each thrust of his hips. Breath is caught in your throat, hips rising to meet each push, and Michael kisses you as if to suck the air out of your lungs for you.
For a brief while, all that can be heard in the privacy of your bedroom are your heavy breaths and the gentle sound of Michael’s hips hitting yours. He feels so fucking good, and you are perfectly fine to enjoy the sensation rather than rushing to reach your peak. Somehow, it feels different — and even better — knowing that this act is more than just passionate lovers, but making love — and making life.
Your hands graze over the skin of his shoulders, accepting the heat of his flesh into your fingertips, and, likewise, transferring the thrum of your chest until your hearts beat in tandem as one.
Michael, though, has a different idea in mind, and soon, the pace of his hips speeds up as he begins to thrust into you harder. His lips find your jaw, sucking into the spot just below your ear, muffling the sound of his groans as he feels you clench tightly around him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs. “Can’t wait to fill this pretty little cunt up with my cum.”
All you can do is whimper in response, the arousal you feel at his words and his matching actions almost overwhelming. Your fingers tremble along his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh as you hold on for dear life.
“Yeah? You like that, baby? You want to make me a daddy?”
“Fuck,” you cry out, both from the way he presses the head of his cock right against your g-spot, as well as his erotic words. “Yes, Michael, yes, please.”
“Yeah? You gonna take all of my cum, aren’t you? Not gonna waste a single drop, huh?”
You shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out, and he rewards you by moving his hand to circle at your clit. He knows you’re close, hanging on by just a thread, your cunt clenching desperately around him.
“That’s it, angel,” he praises, eyes glassy as he watches the bounce of your tits. “Take it so good, don’t you? Fuck, it’s like you were made to take my dick, baby.”
Between his hot praise, forceful thrusts, and calculated rub of your clit, you’re spiraling over the edge before you even have a chance to cry out, the euphoria washing over you in overwhelming waves. Your head falls back and legs tremble with the strength of your orgasm, clenching tightly around him as he groans at the feeling.
“Good girl,” he purrs, removing his hand from your clit to take its place back on your hip, gripping it tightly as he seeks out his own release.
He pumps into you, losing himself to his own rhythm as his eyes close. A deep groan rumbles in his chest, almost animalistic, and it has you clenching tightly around him.
“Fuck,” he exclaims. “Gonna come, angel. Gonna fill you up with a fucking baby.”
“Give it to me, daddy,” you moan, encouraging him. “Come inside me.”
The sight of him coming is always something — head thrown back, eyes closed, muscles flexed — but it’s even more beautiful knowing the intimacy of the act. It’s more than a release, it’s the start of a family with the man you’re hopelessly and deeply in love with, souls connected in more ways than one.
You feel the hot spurts shooting into you, and it’s almost enough to send you into another orgasm, your cunt greedily taking every drop from his cock. His hips stutter against yours, hands loosening their grip as he comes down from his high.
Michael looks down at you, panting, and smirks at you before pulling out halfway, only to push back in and make you clench weakly around him.
“Gotta keep it all in this pretty little cunt, don’t we? Don’t wanna waste a single drop,” he says.
He takes his time, lightly fucking you, gently sliding in and out of you. Between your two orgasms and the feeling of his warmth deep inside your womb, your core is on fire in the best way, and your fumbling hand reaches quickly for your clit. One, two, three circles later, you’re crying out in your final orgasm of the night, legs trembling weakly as your insides contract tightly.
Michael watches in awe, cursing under his breath as he lets you work through it, keeping his gentle rhythm steady. He eyes the swollen, wet lips of your pussy with a deep appreciation. “Look so fucking pretty taking my cum. All filled up with our baby, yeah?”
He presses kisses to your hairline as you come down slowly, as if to tell you to take your time. When he finally pulls out, you whimper slightly at the loss, feeling the emptiness, but you know you’re not really empty.
With his release, the darkness in Michael’s eyes has disappeared, and now he’s looking at you softly, eyes full of love and adoration. His lips curl into a smile, leaning down to kiss you gently as one hand trails over your belly. No words are needed; you know what he’s thinking, as you imagine the little seed growing inside of you.
He shifts so that he’s laying next to you, pulling you into his arms, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.
“Have to say,” he murmurs after a moment. “I think I like being daddy already.”
“A daddy, or just daddy?”
Michael hums, hand trailing over your stomach again, as if there’s already something there, invisible to everyone but him.
“Both.”
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infinite-beginnings · 2 years ago
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So...I just watched HSMTMTS (I'm behind the times I know) and Portwell hit me like a freight train and I actually was inspired to write!! For the first time in monthssss.
I started a series of Portwell One-Shots on AO3 and you can read it here!!
Four chapters are up so far:
Chapter 1- 5+1- Five times Gina sees EJ being affectionate with people and wishes it was her +1 time it is with her (Set after 2x07)
Chapter 2- Sick EJ- EJ gets sick while his parents are out of town so Gina and Ashlyn go over to take care of him. (Set in between seasons 2 and 3)
Chapter 3- EJ, Ashlyn, and Gina all spend the week leading up to New Year's together at Ashlyn's house. EJ and Gina tentatively move from ex-conspirators to friends territory. (Set during 2x01)
Chapter 4- Slow Dancing- EJ asks Val for help with slow dancing so he can dance with Gina at the camp dance. Featuring EJ and Val as siblings and Jealous!Gina (Set during season 3 written after 3x02)
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There will definitely be more to come but please feel free send me any ideas or requests that you night have. (Or even just come talk about the show with me) I'm always looking for inspiration!!
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cafecourage · 3 years ago
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The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 2
If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!
Sky:
- It started slow and very sweet.
- He took a long time realizing who you were. But he still believed in the others when they started to recognize you.
- When your behind him cheering you on, he feels invincible. Since during his adventure Impa tore into him pretty badly when he was late to save Zelda.
- Your presence is comforting to him. It feels like home despite being on the ground.
___________________________________
Being back in Skyloft was a small blessing for the chain. The tight knit community had already welcomed the travelers with little to no questions about their origins. It was a stroke of luck that they landed in front of the bazaar in the early morning when no one else was up yet. Their first day there was a resting day in attempt to gather information on the black blood monsters and inventory checks.
Sky took his time catching up with everyone. Letting the Headmaster and Sun know about the situation that had the hero hopping around in the timeline. Then he needed to go down to the small settlement on the surface to check on them. Sun did already tell him that things where still safe down there and that he should take a break. But he still would rather check it out himself just in case something did happen it better to be safe than sorry.
Despite being able to jump off from any of the decks in Skyloft. He automatically went towards the plaza near the tower of light. During his adventure it was the quickest way to the opening above Faron Woods. Sky was just turning the bend when he saw his Loftwing was already there on the docks and under its wing was You. You were trying to put a small amount of distance between you and the bird but the creature kept bring you closer to hold.
“(Y/n)!” Sky was baffled at his Loftwings reactions to you. He dashes to your side. “I’m so sorry. He isn’t normally like this.”
“It’s fine.” Your uncontrollable laughter the was full with childlike glee finally reached him. “In fact, I think he recognizes me!” You whispered smiling. The Crimson Loftwing cooed now leaning into his masters touch as Sky softly pet the side of his necks. Sky wondered if what you said was the truth. Since a Loftwing and its rider do share a special connection, it’s fully possible that his also felt and heard you. “Hey Link?” Suddenly your demeanor changed. “Can I ask something?”
Your bashful and embarrassed expression made Sky feel soft inside. “Of course.”
“One of these days can you show me around the sky or the surface?” You shifted awkwardly from him. He actually forgot that you haven’t physically been to his era before. That for the longest time you only saw things from his point of view without the ability to truly explore anything. “You don’t need to- “
“Are you free now?” He quickly cut you off. “I was actually heading down there now to check on the settlement.”
“Really?” Your face seems to brighten but then you remembered something and leaned closer to him whispering again “I don’t have a Loftwing though.”
He gently takes your hand “my Loftwing is strong enough for both of us.” He guided you to his side. You eyed the bird with uncertainty but you let him help you up onto the harness. Sky got on behind you reaching around you to get the reins. “Hold on to me if you get scared.” He teasingly warned and before you could question him. His Loftwing took off nose diving off of the deck.
You let out a small squeak as you latched onto his tunic. Sky almost felt bad that he actually scared you. But once in the air and on a steady path you finally opened your eyes again. “Woah!” The sight was nothing special but it was still just as beautiful. The clouds below them created an endless sea of white. “It’s so pretty.” Pride bubbled up as Sky watch you taken in the beauty of his home. This was just the start of what he wanted to show you as different locations came into his mind. “Hey.” You looking over your shoulder with hope in your eyes. ”Next time can we go to the Lumpy Pumpkin? I remember you singing high praises about their pumpkin soup.”
Sky tried to think of what he wanted to do tomorrow, right now there wasn’t anything that needed his attention. “If we have time tomorrow, I can take you there for lunch or dinner.” Maybe he could take a break from being a hero for a bit.
“Great! It’s a date then.” You sent a wink his way that sent his brain into a haywire before looking back into the endless sky. He was lucky his Loftwing is able to steer himself. As dot’s where finally connecting in Sky’s head. Pure love and affection bubble up as he embraces his new found feelings.
- He will be the one to uno reverse card on you. All love and affection will drown you instead. There was so much he wanted to tell you before to thank you for being by his side and encouraging him.
- Cuddle time will start here because of his need to make sure you know your loved too.
- He would be the one to confess first, but it would probably be played off as friends telling each other that they love each other.
- You’re not dense but overly affectionate. He might just need to spell out how you make him feel on a daily basis. Maybe then you’ll understand what you’re doing to him.
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Legend:
- It hit him like a freight train.
- He isn’t mad at you. He is mad at himself. He had made his dues with what the people he had lost. Yet here he is. Already going too far.
- Your ability to make the situation brighter slowly eroded the walls he put up years ago.
- It might be all in his head, but he swears that you always make sure his needs are met even if he is trying to hide them.
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“Link!!!” You barreled towards him ignoring the questioning stares the people of Windfall Island. “Link! Link! Link! LOOK!!!” You hold up a pink rabbit stuffed animal that you bought. “It you!”
The veteran in question huffed, “seriously of all things.” He turned on his heels “I’m going back on the ship.” He didn’t know why he was still entertaining your antics at that point.
“Wha- Hey! I was joking!” They were stocking up in Windfall and Legend was not happy to be on a boat nor in the ocean again. He wouldn’t say that he afraid.
Just… cautious…
You on the other hand looked like you were having the time of your life on the ship talking the it’s Captain and crew member’s. Yet most of the time you would stay by his side. The reason was obvious but nether wanted to talk about it.
Which is why you dragged him out to the port island. ‘An easy distraction.’ You told him, ‘I can show you around so we won’t get lost!’ He wasn’t worried about that. Legend trusted you. A fact he will never say out loud. However, he would rather hole up somewhere and escape the world then be here.
A soft hand took his when Legend reached the docks. He already knew who it was since you’ve been following him like a lost puppy all day. “One more place please?” You looked at him expectingly. “Then you can go back.”
“What are you a child? Why can’t you just go alone?” Legend snapped back, “you don’t have to be around me.”
“Legend I like being with you.” You pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “However.” You let go of his hand. “I also understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore and want to go rest.” There was no fighting back. No offense to his words. Nothing. Just a warm smile that filled him with warmth, that was accompanied by words fueled by unlimited care and understanding which made his heart beat faster. The silence between you two seemed to give you an answer. You turned around. A panicked feeling shot through. Legend was surprised with himself when he almost reached out to you when you walked away.
Instead, he watched you go. In the wake of his own emotions, he realized what had been happening. How he has been acting around you was starting to get familiar. “Not again.” He whispered disappointed in himself.
___________________________________
- Legend is going to be bitter about it. He isn’t going to take it out on you, but his mannerisms are going to be different after this.
- Not quite closed off, but it’s almost like he is mourning another loss.
- You would need to drown him in love and affection before he realizes you like him back. But like Twilight, he is going to be heartbroken if you decide to leave him to go back home.
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Wild:
- Its progression was as natural as breathing.
- He just got off of his adventure so he always had you by his side. Just being near you is second nature.
- If anything, he was more than excited to actually have you physically be here alongside him.
- It rare to see ether of you not near each other when traveling together you two are inseparable.
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The only upside of being in Wild’s Era is that the champion knew what to expect, it’s chaotic was normal for him and actually brought him a bit of peace. You came with that peace of mind. Having you join the chain to him was almost like you never left his side in the first place. From the moment he woke up after being told his name and what he needed to from Zelda, he was aware of your presence. You were the one to encourage him to explore the ruin kingdom. You were the one to recognize structures that the people in his world didn’t know about. The weird part was that you didn’t know how he was before the calamity, but he didn’t question that fact too much. He was more than happy to have someone treat him as a different person from before.
Now having you physically with him. Wild wanted to bring you to all of your favorite locations that you vocally told him about.
But that had to wait for now, because the downside to Wild’s Hyrule was the amount of things that wanted him dead. Moblins? Bokablins? Those guys are fine to fight they were push overs unless infected with the black blood. Actually, most of Wild’s monsters were like that. Once you get a hang of fighting them and recognize their patterns. They are a breeze.
A common threat that was annoy to deal with however, was the Yiga Clan. Which leads to the situation Wild and the others found themselves getting in while on the road to Hateno. He should of figured that they were going to strike when he got back to his Era. But he honestly didn’t think it would be in this quantity they were out number but thanks to Warriors taking control of the situation where managing. He was trying to make sure everyone was accounted for and was alive when he heard a string of curses coming from his right.
You had been knocked on the ground by a Blade Master. Your sword was near the clan member. Wild felt his world freeze in that moment as he bolted towards your body. With a falcon bow in hand. Wild side jumped. Locked in an ancient arrow and let it go.
The arrow sped towards the Blade Master. Hitting him directly. Turning the Yiga member into a bunch of Sheikah blue ribbons before collapsing into an orb where the arrow hit.
Wild slide towards your body. A pulse he needed to feel a pulse. Placing the tips of his index and middle finger on the base of your thumb and wrist. He pressed lightly to feel the blood pulsing beneath his fingers. A sigh of relief escaped him. Wild was lucky that the battle had come to an end. As the other Yiga members ether retreated in horror of what happened to one of their own or cut down quickly.
Hyrule join him soon after shooing him out of the way gently. Wild didn’t move from your side all that much. He didn’t want to. Just in case you left him too. He doesn’t know a life without you in it. A world like that just doesn’t exist.
Wild knows the name of the cause of his feelings. It’s the same thing that drives him to share his experience with you. He wants to be by your side and to make you happy.
___________________________________
- He is protective but not controlling. If anything, he wants to spar with you more. So, you can get better at fighting.
- You can bet he is going to start making you taste the different foods he had discovered, or sneak out to visit areas in his world more often. He doesn’t want you to miss a thing.
- There is so much he wants to do with you. So much he wants to share. So many things to say. That he just wants to do it all at once so there can be new things you both can discover together.
(Part 1)
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sweetberrysmooch · 4 years ago
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HC: And There Was Only One Bed (Affectionate) [pt. 2]
(Zzzzzzz…..)
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(Alright, second part done :V Not much to say here for now, but I hope you’re excited for the upcoming part to come out next ^^ And my ask box is always open, so feel free to drop in and chat any time! I’ll be seeing you :D)
Basic sleeping hcs with ya boys, and for a part two, outside home life? You’ll see what I mean lol 
Characters: Quackity, George, Badboyhalo.
Warnings: Nightmares in Quackity’s part, but besides that we’re clean <3
Song Recommendation: Metamodernity- Vansire
Up Next- Sapnap, Philza, Fundy, Schlatt. 
Enjoy your day guys! I do hope it be rockin :]
Quackity:
Quackity is one floppy motherfucker. You fall asleep with him spooning you, head nestled between your shoulder blades, hands holding yours in front of your middle, legs entangled, the whole shi-bang, but wake up with him starfishing half on the mattress at a weird angle that makes his neck sore for the rest of the day.
Each day is a new position for you to add to your ammunition of teasing against him, but he takes it in stride. He totally doesn’t wake you up halfway through the night by flinging himself over your middle, ‘asleep’ and snoring like a freight train. When you give up halfway through trying to stop him breathing and just fall asleep lying on his chest, he turns to mush and gets distracted playing with your hair. You don’t know why he seems so exhausted the next morning, and he only giggles dreamily at you when you ask.
While he’ll be the big spoon for as long as you want him to, there’s a special soft place in his heart for being the little spoon. Hold him, please. Pull him to your chest and gently run your fingers through his hair, rub his back and kiss every inch of his face until he’s down for the count. The easiest way to make him feel better after a bad day or an argument is to let him know you want him and love him. Just holding him at night guarantees that he’ll bring you a present the next day (like the inner stardew valley house husband he sometimes longs to be lmao).
It’s a 50/50 chance of waking up with Quackity or after him, seeing as he prefers to get up early to enjoy the quiet mornings before the rest of the smp wakes up. He gets ready, makes the both of you coffee (or tea, something to help wake you up), and watches the sky change color while he waits for you to come sit with him in the kitchen. The two of you try your best to assure a moment together before you go about your separate ways, sitting together and talking about what you have planned or what you might have for dinner later. It’s his favorite part of the day, aside from coming back home to your awaiting arms.
Another citrus-y smelling fellow. More orange than lemon, he bathes in the morning after he wakes up. You typically wake up right after he gets finished washing up, walking into the bathroom to hear him quietly humming while drying off his hair and wings. He’ll give you a small guilty grin and a good smooch on your forehead as an apology.
Another poor fellow with nightmares;; They’re a lot less frequent than they used to be now that you’ve gotten together (having someone to talk to and work through each others issues does WONDERS apparently) but when they hit, they hit him hard. You wake up from him twisting and turning right before he wakes up in tears. He doesn’t like to be touched afterwards, drawn in on himself and facing away from you, hiding his crying. When you leave to get him a glass of water and come back, he’s more grounded, crawling into your arms and accepting the drink gratefully. With his forehead pressed to your throat, taking small sips from his cup, he’ll tell you what his dream was about. Sometimes it’s Technoblade, sometimes Dream, mostly Schlatt though. His ex lingers on his mind more than he likes to admit, a deep sense of abandonment showing through his nightmares. Quackity struggles with sleeping for a few days after, afraid of what he might see when he closes his eyes again.
(You’ve fallen back asleep by now, hand paused in its ministrations and resting snugly in his hair. Things are warm and quiet and soft, and he feels safe again. 
The nightmare still hovers fuzzily in the back of his mind, but for now he can ignore it, focusing on your slow breathing as it lulls him back to sleep. 
His last thought before finally letting himself rest is how much he loves you, giving you one last squeeze in his tight embrace before relaxing into a much more stable slumber. ‘Gracias por todo mi amor.’)
George:
Impeccable skill of just falling asleep wherever and whenever. Before the two of you got close and started sharing a bed together, he really left his sleep schedule up to fate. He’d find a comfy spot and crash there for a few hours till he was awoken and would just repeat that a few hours later. Now that he has you, he makes more of an effort to stay awake during the day so he can sleep through the night next to your side. It more or less works, but occasionally he’ll have slept during the day and he wakes up in the middle of the night. As “punishment”, he sentences himself to waiting it out instead of getting up to do something because he truly wants to keep going to bed with you.
Not big on contact, likes having his space when he’s sleeping. Cuddling is nice every once in a while, but he prefers being able to breathe a little bit when falling asleep. He does, however, actively make the choice to hold your hand while he slips into slumberville. His grip isn’t too strong, nor is it very light, but a gentle mix between the two to try and remind you how much he loves you. You’ll wake up before him and his hand will still be holding yours, pulled to his chin as he sleeps. His breath fans your knuckles slowly, face eased of any stress, absolutely content.
George bathes…… probably. I’m just kidding, he fluctuates between bathing at night or in the morning because he just goes through phases of forgetting to when the time comes. His little mushroom home doesn’t come with a bathroom, seeing as its wholly empty (please if anyone has housing information on George or like. Any character at all please inform me please i beg-), so he’s limited to getting clean at a friend’s or your house. Typically yours. He keeps all of his valuables at your place once you start letting him sleep over there, tucking his clothes into your closet or in your dresser when he thinks you aren’t looking, leaving a toothbrush and his soap in your bathroom, hanging his armor up on an empty armor stand you have tucked away, all due to his inability to straight out ask if he can live with you.
It’s not like he doesn’t want to live with you, he practically does anyways, but there’s something in him that worries that you won’t like him if you’re forced to live with him permanently. He knows it can become… a bit much when you have to be around someone 24/7, but doesn’t realize that you pretty much already are around each other 24/7 lmao.
It takes a while but eventually he settles down and over dinner suggest that maybe you two should take it to the next level. His face is flushed pink and he keeps switching which leg he has crossed, but he takes your hand and quietly asks if he could start living with you. It’s a surprisingly sweet moment, even with your confusion (thinking you already DID live together), and of course you say yes.
He looks so relieved when you accept, and is kinda like, “I know this will be a difficult process but I’m very excited to become closer with you.” and then nothing changes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(It’s on the walk home when George finally processes that he now lives with you. It feels heavy on his heart, a mix of nervousness and excitement that makes him swallow hard and tighten his fingers around yours. 
This isn’t the first time he’s spent the night at your place, nor is it the first time he’s crawled into bed with you and slept next to just because you let him, but it is his first night actually living with you. The moment feels brand new, as if it’s his first time visiting your house all over again. 
He begins to wonder if maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s moved too fast and maybe your regretting letting him live with you already and- He takes a hurried look at your face. You look… unbothered. Happy, even. 
There’s this half hidden smile on your face that soothes his anxieties, drawing out his own fragile smile. He can’t wait to live with you.)
Bad:
Mmmmm, big man warm. A natural heat machine, no need for lots of blankets or heavier pajamas, Bad will take care of all your cold problems. Every night after you finish your shared nightly routine, you curl up in his arms, immediately becoming over come with his toasty embrace. It like when you get clothes out of the drier and just hug them to your chest, the warm, clean, smell good experience that Bad also delivers.
He’s got a pretty ingrained nightly schedule that he sticks to, and he always invites you to join him after you finish up dinner. It starts by cleaning up the house a little, washing the dishes, setting aside clothes for the next day, taking a quick bath, brushing his teeth, reading a few chapters from a new book he’s picked up, and then settling down to go to bed. He won’t push you to do it with him, but he does try to incorporate you into his routine when he can. Usually it’s just by doing something small, like reading together or massaging your shoulders, but sometimes he’ll ask you to join him when he bathes.
Bad bathes pretty often, always at night, and using a nice smelling soap that he makes himself. Like what was said above, he’ll sometimes ask you to join him when bathing. It’s not ever for any naughty means, but because he sees bathing as a very intimate and vulnerable activity for you to share. He won’t push it, understanding that it can be overwhelming to be so open, but if you do choose to join him, he’s so gentle with you. His hands are worked and calloused, but they’re soft when they run soap through your hair, his nails lightly scratching your scalp and running down the back of your neck. He practically purrs when you return the favor, giggling as your hands brush sensitive spots around his sides. Afterwards he becomes so cuddly and attached to your side, you fall asleep with him curled up on YOUR chest, trapped under him.
That being said, most nights he takes to being the big spoon. It’s more for convenience sake, seeing as he’s a good few feet taller than you are, but he also can appreciate being held and loved on after harsher days. He’s a lot like a weighted blanket, a nice heavy weight that keeps you warm and makes you feel loved <3 love this guy.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), you sometimes have.... Visitors. Bad is a hub for the homeless, bored, and nutty members of the smp. They flock to him like birds to the elderly, which means you have “children” to take care of for a day or two at a time :/. Dream and George aren’t regulars, per say, but Bad has a room set aside for either of them when they come over. To their credit, they do try to be polite when they come over, and will help in cooking dinner or cleaning up. Skeppy, however, is unlike Dream or George, in that he’s more of a third partner in your and Bad’s relationship.
Skeppy up and appears at random, no announcement, and makes himself comfortable any place where Bad is. Be it at your home or his, Skeppy eats your food, lounges on your furniture, hell, he even sleeps with you and Bad at night. You two share Bad’s chest whenever Skeppy is over. It’s so jarring at first, having to deal with having another boyfriend (because Skeppy will consider you to be apart of the thrupple after introductions), but he usually only stays for like 3 days before leaving to do whatever else he has planned. You don’t know if you should be worried or upset or what, but after a while it becomes kinda nice to have him around.
All in all Bad is great to sleep with <3
(Bad blows the lantern out on his bedside counter, shuffling under the cover beside you once the room was fully dark. You slung an arm over his chest instinctively, cuddling up into his side when his arm pulled up around your back and held you even closer. 
You shivered pleasantly when he gently pressed a kiss into your hair, becoming sleepier and sleepier with each rise and fall of his wide chest. He sighs quietly and squeezes you, murmuring softly to you as you both fell asleep. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.”)
Have a good evening! Do something nice for yourself tonight. You deserve it.
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soldrawss · 4 years ago
Note
Could you please post more of your lovely wholesome Rottmnt content? Your AUs are golden and I’m sure all of us would appreciate, love and cherish anything you give us.
I’m ALWAYS down for posting some ROTTMNT AU content, thank you so much for your sweet words and the chance to bombard you with more of my au stories. (You didn’t specify which rottmnt content so I’m taking artistic liberty and answering with BBM content) He’s another little story I wrote for my Big Brother Mikey AU.  (Zach had asked if Raph ever outgrows Mikey because he’s genetically built like a freaking tank and I not only said yes, but Leo and Donnie eventually outgrow him too, and then this short was born)
So Mikey's not like, TALL by any means. At around 20 he reached his peak height of 5'7, and that was that. But for a good portion of their childhoods, he was the tallest. Only naturally so, since he was the oldest. 
But then the twins turned 16 and hit a goddamn growth spurt and shot up like vines from a fairy tale and effectively outgrew Mikey. Which Mikey saw coming... sorta...
The twins had been around his height for a while, so it wasn't too surprising when the day finally came that Mikey, as he was standing in the kitchen making some scrambled egg tacos, noticed Leo walk up beside him and reach for the stash of chocolate peppermint bark that Mikey had to use a stepstool to stash up on the top shelf, (He hid them up there from their Christmas holiday party because Raph and Donnie had kept eating them to the point of getting sick) and Mikey finally thought, "oh my god, there goes my best treat hiding place". And sure enough, when he forced the twins to stand by the hallway wall, (where they had all their heights measured with color-coded crayon lines, something they used to do as kids with their dad that Mikey didn't really grow out of continuing despite all the times they've moved) the blue and purple lines had overtaken the orange line as the tallest height.
And it was a little bittersweet, Mikey DEFINITELY teared up about it despite Leo and Donnie giving him hugs and teasing him good-naturedly about it, but it was a good bittersweet. Leo and Donnie were growing up. They weren't the fierce and protective kids they used to be, guarded with nervous and untrusting anger that kept cultivating in their unstable childhoods. An anger that was almost seemed second hand, there without them having to reach for it, and Mikey used to lose sleep over hoping that they wouldn't feel like the world was against them forever. He hoped they could be kids for a long as they could be, much longer than he ever had the chance to be. 
They were so small, they'd always been so small. Born a month and a half premature, and tiny in Mikey's already small 7-year-old arms. He figured they'd always be that small, always fit right there, perfectly in the circle of his arms.
They still do, but not in the fearful and sheltered and scared way they used to. Not in the perfect way that made Mikey seem bigger than life, and able to shelter them from the worst of the world’s hurt and pain and cold. 
Now it's with a bounce in their step and a wry smile on their lips and a contented sigh in the mornings on their way to school, and Mikey lifts his arms up because how DARE they think they can just sneak off to do cool teenager things and not give their embarrassingly affectionate big brother a hug goodbye. And they sorta crouch now, bending over so that Mikey can wrap his arms around them, but they do it, and it feels right, and they hug back just as hard and Mikey is thankful they didn't outgrow this. Mikey isn't upset when the twins grew taller than him. But it's a completely different story with Raph. Because Raph was always a big kid. He was a brick as a baby. Round with baby fat and soft cheeks that Mikey used to blow fat raspberries into to make him giggle and no matter how big he got, he was never too big for Mikey to carry around and hold in his arms forever. At least, that's what Mikey thought, anyway. He didn't notice when Raph stopped jumping into his open arms whenever he got home, not at first. Racing like he had something to prove from wherever he was in their little apartment complex to meet Mikey at the door with a tackling hug to Mikey's middle with all the force of a runaway freight train. Mikey never stumbles or falls back from the familiar weight, because he knows, like he knows all the freckles on Raph's nose and all the curls in his baby brother's hair, that he'll always be there to catch him no matter what, so it was never something Mikey was consciously aware of. And sure, maybe he's a little aware of Raph's growth, but again, Raph was always a big kid. Mikey was always buying him new clothes and shoes, because he either ripped or outgrew his old ones, and he never quite fit into Leo's or Donnie’s or Mikey's quite right. It isn't until Raph's in 8th grade, and he's coming home with a note for Mikey to read about him joining the football team as a freshman come the next school year, and the coach want's Raph to do summer training with the rest of the team, that Mikey has to take a step back because WHAT? Raph is a baby, no WAY is he ready to play football what on EARTH is the coach thinking. It isn't until LH, after hearing Mikey complain about it to him later that night, "Because I don't know El. Raph was pretty excited about it, but Football is whole worlds dangerous. Weren't you just telling me last week about the statistics on brain damage and the correlation it has with contact sports like football? And how that damage is permanent? Raph could get hurt, like SERIOUSLY hurt. I don't know WHAT the coach is thinking putting a Freshman on a varsity team," tells Mikey, "Well, I mean, look at him, Mike. Kid's built like a brick wall. He could probably take a few hits better than some of the seniors can," that Mikey finally looks at Raph and REALLY looks at him. Because,,, yeah ok, Raph IS built like a brick wall. 13 years old and suddenly he's a whole head taller than Mikey and about as big as 4 of him and WOAH when did Mikey's baby brother, this kid, HIS kid, the only one Mikey will ever have, the one he raised since he was 12 year's old, and holding to his chest, shielding from a pot of boiling water, get too big to hold to his chest anymore. Too big to shield. And Mikey has to sit down and not have a panic attack because oh no oh god oh no. All his brothers, all his little brothers, that Mikey put his EVERYTHING into raising, providing, protecting, are suddenly not so little anymore. Not so in need of protection anymore. 
Donnie was off in grad school, getting a billion degrees and doctorates because he was smart enough to do everything and anything, and Leo was on a basketball scholarship at NYU, full ride, and he's skating through life on charm and smarts and innate talent to turn everything he touches into gold and Raph is 13, but he's already getting offers to be a centerline guard on a football team at a high school he doesn't even attend yet, and coming home shining bright and brilliant because of it, the same way he comes home after acing a bio test or landing another lead role in his theatre club and suddenly they don't NEED Mikey anymore.  
They don't need him like they used to, and certainly not in a way Mikey needs them. Because they're growing up. Growing into their own people, with their own lives, and it's exactly what Mikey wanted, of COURSE, it is. Mikey used to kill himself, working days and nights and holidays and THEN some, working on borrowed time he didn't give to himself, to make sure that his brothers GOT the opportunity to grow like this. To be the magnificent and amazing people they were always meant to be, despite the situation the world put them in. But Mikey has only ever lived, really, for his brothers. Mikey never let himself have anything. He always gave it to his brothers, freely and willingly. But now that his brothers don't need him anymore, what's there left of Mikey? What was Mikey supposed to do now? Mikey stopped growing at 20, but his brothers kept growing and getting bigger and brighter and outshining the universe, and when Mikey wasn't looking, he thinks they got too big from little him anymore. (Cue an existential crisis from Mikey at age 28, where LH and Raph call Leo and Donnie at college, to come down and have an intervention with Mikey because OF FUCKING COURSE THEY DIDN'T OUT GROW HIM ARE YOU KIDDING??? Mikey will always be their big brother and they'll ALWAYS need him. Maybe not need him the same way they did when they were kids. But they'll still need his weekend phone calls, and daily cat videos sent in the group chat, and kisses to their temples and pillow fights on the nights Leo and Donnie spend a weekend home and warm hugs and warm breakfast casserole and the constant "I love you"’s that wouldn't fill their hearts the same way if it came from anyone other than their big brother. And Leo and Donnie are 21 and are tall enough to be trees, and Raph is 16 and can bench press all of them if he tried, and Mikey will never be taller than his little brothers again. But they'll never be too big for Mikey's hugs or love. They'll never be big enough where they won't need their big brother. Mikey is the only thing that they’ll never outgrow.) 
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bangtann-bangdamn · 4 years ago
Text
Lightning: Part 2
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Warnings: Unhappy relationship mentioned, but other than that you should be good to go.
Word Count: 4165
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
AN: I originally wrote Lighting in June 2019. It’s March 2021. Also, I feel like my writing style has changed slightly. If it has - whoops. My bad.
< Part 1
Master list
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“Can you get me another beer?” Mark called from the living room.
“Why don’t you get off your ass and go get it yourself?” You yelled back, rolling your eyes as you plunged the plate you were washing back beneath the water. It wasn’t like he was doing anything important.
“I’m in the middle of a – die you motherfucker!” 
You grit your teeth, holding back your retort. As much as you enjoyed Mark’s company, there were days where everything he did, everything he said, frustrated you. Okay, maybe not days. Lately, it has been all the time.
Sure, he was sweet and affectionate when he wanted to be, but ever since you agreed to move in with him a few weeks ago, you felt less like his partner and more like his mother.
‘For all his faults, Yoongi wouldn’t have done this,’ you found yourself thinking. Immediately, you felt guilty. Yoongi was your past. He had broken up with you. He had made that decision, and you had grown to accept it. 
But he also said he missed you. And, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, a small part of you missed him too.
Over and over your encounter with Yoongi replayed in your head. It felt like fate seeing him that day. With the storm raging outside, you had stayed longer than you normally would. All those feelings you thought were gone suddenly resurfaced. You forgot all about the way he would ignore you when he worked, or how he never answered his phone. You forgot all the nights where his side of the bed remained empty. All you could think about was the time you had spent together. Never did he make you feel so small, so insignificant in his life. 
The plate you were scrubbing shattered in your hand. You screamed in frustration as blood began to trickle from your palm. You sighed as you picked up the shards from the washing-up bowl, throwing them in the bin with more force than necessary before grabbing a towel from the side and putting pressure onto the cut. You were trying not to cry but tears still found its way down your cheeks. 
Mark made no effort to call out and check to see if you were okay. He yelled in frustration as he continued to play whatever game he was currently obsessed with, continuing on as if nothing had happened. Most likely, he hadn’t heard your scream. 
It was a sign from the universe, seeing Yoongi that day. A sign that you had made a mistake.
Mark had asked you to move in and you stupidly thought that seeing Yoongi was a sign for you to say yes. But now you knew. You knew that your heart wasn’t in it. Perhaps it never was. 
Mark walked into the kitchen. “Fine, I’ll get the beer myself,” he scoffed, barely noting the red tainted towel wrapped around your hand.
“I can’t do this anymore.” You closed your eyes as you held your breath. 
“Sorry, I won’t ask you to get me one in the future.” Mark walked out of the kitchen without a second glance.
You followed him. “No, you don’t get it. I’m done.” 
Mark sat down on the sofa. “Okay,” he said as he picked up the controller and resumed his game.
You stared at the back of his head as he took a sip of his beer, waiting for him to ask you. But you knew it was futile. Mark would assume you were joking and would give you a few hours to calm down before he would talk to you. Then he would brush away any concern you had with a laugh and tell you you were overreacting again.
You shook your head, deciding that you didn’t want to have this fight. You didn’t want to be told that you were crazy, your feelings unjustified. You didn’t want to feel tired anymore.
You inspected the cut on your hand, quickly determining that it was not deep enough to require stitches. You grabbed the first aid kit from beneath the sink and quickly set to bandaging your hand before walking back into your bedroom. You grabbed your suitcase from under the bed and began packing your things. 
Déjà vu hit you like a freight train. But, unlike with Yoongi, you found that your tears had stopped the moment you had decided to leave. It was a relief not to deal with Mark anymore, as bad as you knew that sounded. But ever since you ran into Yoongi all those weeks ago, things had changed. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but compare Mark to Yoongi. How Mark didn’t know you as well as Yoongi had, or how he couldn’t make you smile as easily as Yoongi had. 
Seeing him again reminded you of how hard it was to leave. How much you missed him, despite everything.
And when it came to Yoongi, Mark never really stood a chance. It sounded horrible to admit, but Mark was only ever a distraction. A reason for you to stop thinking about Yoongi.
You rolled your suitcase out of the bedroom and down the hall. At the sound of the wheels rolling across the wooden floor, Mark paused his game to look at you.
“Where are you going?” he asked, looking between the suitcase and you.  
For this, he paused his game, you couldn’t help but think.
“I told you, I’m done.”
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By the time you sat down on the bus, you were sweating slightly. It was a little from the humidity that still clung to the early evening air that had made the walk almost impossible. But mostly it was because of the panic that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 
What if you had made an impulsive decision? What if Mark was the one and you just left him? 
You were leaving him on what your heart wanted: Yoongi. But now that your mind had a chance to catch up, it screamed at you. Yoongi might have moved on, or he might not have changed. Sure Mark wasn’t the easiest to get along with, but he was there. He came to bed every evening. He ate dinner with you every evening. He replied to texts an-
Your phone started ringing. Mark. You stared down at the screen for a moment, wondering what he could possibly have to say to you before you declined the call. Almost immediately, Mark called again. So you switched it off.
It took you almost an hour to get to Hwasa’s house. You could feel your nose burning with unshed tears as you knocked on her door. She answered the door on your fourth knock. She had her phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, accessing you before she spoke.
“Haven’t seen her, Mark,” she said, nodding her head at you to follow. She moved back into the house as you let yourself in, closing the door behind you. You left your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs as you kicked off your shoes and followed Hwasa into the living room. She was sprawled out on the sofa rolling her eyes at whatever Mark was saying on the other end of the phone. You took a seat on the armchair beside her.
“I’m telling you, Mark, I don’t know where she is. Now if you excuse me, my pizza is here.” She hung up, rolling her eyes. “You broke up with Mark?” She raised her brow at you as she tossed her phone down beside her.
“Yeah?” You played with your hands in your lap, avoiding Hwasa’s gaze.
“About time,” Hwasa muttered, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the TV on.
“Wait, I thought you liked Mark?”
“I do. But anyone with eyes could see that you weren’t happy.”
You frowned. “I thought I was happy.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t say anything.” Hwasa leant forward, placing her hand on your knee. “It’s the duty of a best friend to know when to say something. And when to bite her tongue. I knew you were unhappy, but I also knew you were heartbroken. You needed to date Mark to heal, to get over Yoongi.”
“Oh.” You tucked your feet beneath you as you turned your attention to the TV. The news was playing, detailing some study a university was doing into attraction.  
“Oh? Oh god, don’t tell me that you broke up with Mark to go back to Yoongi?”
“Not exactly...”
“Are you stupid? He broke you. Or did you conveniently forget the month and a half you spent locked up in here barely eating and crying your eyes out because he didn’t even call? Even Mark called.”
“Yoongi works differently, you know that. He won’t tell you how he feels, he’ll-”
“Write you a song. I remember your anniversary present.”
You smiled at the thought. For your first anniversary, Yoongi made you a CD. He wouldn’t tell you what songs he had put on there, but when you had listened you knew. He had asked a friend to sing the chorus, whilst he had rapped the verses. There was something about the way he rapped, so confident and quick in his deep voice, that had you downloading it onto your phone and listening to it whenever you could.
“I miss him,” you admitted softly. 
“I know. But does he miss you? He might say he does, but…” She left her words hanging in the air.
As much as you hated to admit it, you knew she was right. Yoongi made his feelings known through music. If he wanted you, there would be a song. 
And in the year since you left, there was none. It was hard to argue against the concrete facts.
So why did it feel like you had just broken up all over again?
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Yoongi was nervous. Well, maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. 
Terrified. He was terrified.
After writing his song, he had asked Namjoon for his opinion. Namjoon had been lost for words – literally and metaphorically. He had thought the song was perfect, yet Yoongi felt like something was missing. Only, no matter how many times he listened to the song, he couldn’t put a finger on what it was. He had managed to persuade his company to give him a few extra weeks to work on it, to make it perfect. But no matter how many times he tinkered with it; the song just didn’t seem right.
He shook his head to clear his mind. It was a little too late for that now. In the end, he had to hand it over; he had wasted enough time. Now, nearly three months after he had written it, he sat in the green room of the radio station. 
“Yoongi, are you ready?” The producer beckoned him to follow. 
Yoongi nodded, rising to his feet slowly.
It wasn’t his first radio interview, nor would it be his last. But it was the first time a radio station was debuting one of his songs live on air. 
You might be listening to this. You might hear this song. You might hear him. 
He wasn’t sure if the idea of you hearing his song made him want to jump off a cliff or jump for joy. All he knew for certain was that he was out of time.
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Every day since you left, Mark had made the point of visiting you at work.
“I can’t talk to you right now.” You continued to fill the dishwasher, not bothering to look back at Mark as you spoke. “What part of ‘I’m at work’ do you not understand?”
“You won’t answer my calls.” 
You placed the last cup in the dishwasher. “We broke up. I don’t need to answer your calls.” You closed the dishwasher, grabbing a cloth and began wiping down the counters. The counters didn’t need to be wiped down - Hwasa had taken care of them just before Mark had walked in. But Mark didn’t know that. And you were determined to do anything to make it look like you were busy.
“No. You decided that we had to break up and haven’t listened to a word I’ve tried to say.” 
You grit your teeth as you continued to wipe down the counter. You were pretty sure you gave him several reasons why you didn’t want to be with him anymore – namely that he treated you like some glorified slave.
“You’re still here?” Hwasa raised her brow at you as she walked back behind the counter and pointedly stared at Mark. “Can you seriously not take a hint?”
“This is none of your business, Hwasa.”
“You are scaring off my customers, which makes it my business. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want to be with you, so why don’t you listen to her for once and fuck off.” 
Mark stared at Hwasa, eyes boring into her intensely. Then, without another word, he left. The sound of the bell ringing filled the shop, only the murmur of the radio and the few patrons who weren’t scared off by Mark left to fill the silence.
“I have changed my mind about him. He’s a dick.” Hwasa shook her head as she watched Mark storm away from the shop.
“Finally.” You rolled your eyes dramatically with a giggle. 
“How can a bloke come across so nice and then be an absolute twat?”
“Maybe you should ask Mark.” You leant against the counter, watching as Hwasa walked over to the radio.
“If I ever have to talk to that child again, it will be too soon.” She played with the dial as she searched for a station. Hwasa moved through the stations quickly, only waiting long enough to hear what music was playing before skipping to the next. You turned to clean the counter, mind already tuning out the sound until-
“Now, Yoongi-” a voice crooned out before Hwasa was onto the next station. 
You dropped the rag you were using and turned to Hwasa. “Wait, go back!”
Hwasa looked at you for a second, contemplating your words, before reluctantly dialling the station backwards.
“It’s an impressive feat, I must say. To write about such heartbreak with such love,” the female radio presenter was saying.
“I don’t know if I would describe it as love,” The male presenter said with a chuckle. “Isn’t the whole point of the song to tell this girl that the last time you saw her was your lightning strike, your realisation that it was over. That you weren’t in love with her?” 
“Not at all. Seeing her again… It’s like we were never apart. Lightning coursed through my body and told me that I made a mistake. Truly, I did. I thought I was doing her a favour, breaking it off. I thought I was holding her back. That she was holding me back… But she made me better.”
“Wow, Yoongi. That’s quite the sentiment. What would you say if she was here, right now?” The female presenter asked.
“I… I would probably tell her how stupid I am. But none of that matters now. She’s moved on. I can’t go back to the past and change things. I just have to move on.”
Hwasa placed a hand on your arm, jolting you back to reality. You stared at her blankly as Yoongi and the two presenters continued to talk on the radio behind you. You couldn’t take in a word they were saying, only what he had said. 
He publicly admitted he was - had - dated someone. Live on air. Either he had just admitted something he shouldn’t have and thus would be in massive trouble with the company or...
She’s moved on.
Your heart squeezed in your chest. 
“Hey.” Hwasa tapped your arm, mouth open as if to continue her sentence but quickly closed when the radio presenter suddenly announced over the opening chords-
“And now, the song that we know will be at the top of the charts in no time, Lightning by Min Yoongi.”
The opening chords were slow; sweetly interlocked together on the piano. Yoongi’s deep sultry voice began to lazily rap. Slowly it built until a loud clap of thunder and silence filled the room for a beat, Yoongi’s breath consuming the airwaves. Then the music kicked back in; faster and more urgent than before and Yoongi’s rapping about you. 
You.
His panic over watching you leave.
His pain at not calling you, not telling you he didn’t want you to leave.
And his love.
For you.
By the time the song ends, and the presenters were speaking and thanking Yoongi for his time, you had tears in your eyes.
Hwasa pulled you into a hug, murmuring, ‘I know’ as she rubbed your back. 
Because there it was, clear as day. Yoongi had wanted you; he just couldn’t find the words. But now he was prepared to let you go, let a better man have you. 
Except there was no better man. 
You only wanted Yoongi.
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Yoongi all but collapsed as he sat down in the car. He didn’t know how to feel anymore. He just felt empty. 
He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he had dreamt of you calling him after the song played. Of seeing your face flash once more on his phone screen; hearing your voice as you told him what you loved about the song. 
But his phone remained quiet in his pocket. 
Namjoon had warned him of this. Of letting himself hope.
After he played the song for Namjoon, after the initial excitement had waned, Namjoon had turned to Yoongi with a sombre expression. 
“Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon said softly as he placed a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re really ready to let her go?”
“Of course.”
Namjoon frowned. “Are you sure about that?”
“Namjoon, what are you trying to say? Just say it already.”
“I don’t think you’re as ready to let her go as you think you are.” He leant back in his seat. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Yoongi had promised him that he expected nothing from you, but clearly, he had been lying. 
By the time the car returned him to the dorm, Yoongi had schooled his features to remain stoic. He knew he needed to hide his disappointment from the rest of his group, especially as he had overheard Jimin’s plans to surprise him upon his return. He didn’t feel like celebrating, but he also didn’t want to explain why he had a sudden desire to retreat to his bed and not come out for a few days. 
He opened the door slowly, expecting Taehyung or Jungkook to blast him with confetti the moment he stepped through the door. 
He was met with silence.
“Hello?” Yoongi called out as he took off his shoes. He was shrugging off his jacket when you appeared from the door.
“Hi.”
Yoongi froze, one arm still in his jacket. “What are you doing here?” He continued taking his jacket off, more to avoid your gaze than anything else. 
“I heard you on the radio.” You tentatively stepped towards him. “It was beautiful, Yoongi.”
He heard the crack in your voice as you said his name. He wanted to tell you he didn’t mean it; he still loved you. Always had, always would. But, just like that god awful night, the words wouldn’t come to him. He stood in the entry of the dorm, unable to look at you; unable to say a word and it hit him. He was doing it again.
You laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I came. I just wanted to tell you that.” You made to grab your shoes, but Yoongi stepped in front of you.
“What did Mark think?”
“Mark?” 
“Yeah.”
“I... don’t know…” you admitted softly. Yoongi stepped to the side, allowing you to grab your shoes. 
He still refused to look at you, so you took the moment to observe his profile, noting the sharp, tense line of his jaw. 
“You probably shouldn’t come here again.” Yoongi finally looked at you, searching your face for something. Anything that could help him finally get over you. “I doubt Mark would appreciate you turning up at your ex’s.” Yoongi stepped further into the dorm, all but telling you that he was done with the conversation.
It wasn’t what he wanted to say. It was a reminder to himself that you were taken. That he couldn’t just lean down and capture your lips like he so desperately wanted. So he needed to remove himself from your presence.
“We broke up.”
Yoongi stopped walking, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“Mark and I… I left him.” You took a shaky breath to settle your nerves. You hadn’t planned on him. Then again, you had never planned to leave him in the first place. You closed your eyes and turned towards the door. “I’m sorry for bothering you.” You opened the door and stepped out into the hall. 
Yoongi was frozen as his mind raced to comprehend your words. 
We broke up… I left him…
It couldn’t be a coincidence. Turning up after hearing his song, after hearing him tell the world he was still in love with you. And that he was ready to move on. 
The click of the door closing brought him back to the present. He hurried to follow you.
You were halfway down the hall. 
“I didn’t mean it.” He called after you. “I’m not ready to move on. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” He slowly made his way towards you. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said we should go on a break in the first place. I was just feeling… inadequate. Like you didn’t need me around.” He stopped a little bit behind you and swallowed down his fear. You needed to hear this. “When I told you the agency wouldn’t let you come on tour with us and you didn’t react, I felt like I didn’t matter to you as much as you mean to me. Because I fought for you to come on tour for… I don’t even know how long. Then I come home to break the news to you and… nothing. I thought you were going to leave me so I thought taking a break would help but…” Yoongi took a deep breath. “I have never regretted something as much as that night.”
You blinked away the tears that were forming. “Do you want to know why I didn’t react, Yoongi?” You turned to face him. “Because I was used to it. Used to coming home to an empty apartment, waking up to an empty bed. Spending weeks alone because you had some project going on that you had to work on. It was going to be hard, but I was used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Yoongi shook his head. “Shit, I hadn’t…”
“Considered that?” You nodded slowly.
“Yeah. I thought about calling you every single day.”
“Why didn’t you?” You stepped forward once more. “Why didn’t you call me, Yoongi?” A tear slipped down your cheek. 
“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted softly. 
“I didn’t need to hear you say anything, Yoongi. I just needed to know you cared.” Your phone chimed in your pocket. You stepped away from Yoongi. “I should go.”
You turned, but Yoongi caught your hand. “I can’t watch you walk away from me again.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “I love you. Always have, always will. If you don’t feel the same way… If after everything that’s happened is too much or… or you don’t…” He closed his eyes. “Then I’ll learn to love you less. It’ll take time, but I’d try.”
“You could have said that.”
“What?”
You smiled, lacing your fingers with him. “That you love me. That would have been enough.” You leant up and placed a kiss on his lips. He relaxed in your embrace, leaning his forehead against yours when you pulled away. 
“Then let me say it loud and clear.” He pulled away from you slightly and kissed your forehead. “I.” Then your cheek. “Love.” Then the other. “you.” Finally, he kissed you with some force pulling your body up against his as he deepened the embrace. You wove your fingers through his hair as you lost yourself in him, in the familiarity of it all. 
Despite the time you had lost, the time you had spent apart, the feeling that flooded your body was like coming home. It was sharp and sparked through your body like lightning lighting up the night sky and you knew, in that moment, there was truly no other man in the world who could make you feel like this.
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seancekitsch · 4 years ago
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pizzatarian: a Diego Hargreeves x reader fic
Warnings: a lil toxic if you squint but not really, mentions of violence, no smut actually, self deprecating shit, high key based on ‘your honor’ by regina spektor, david even called diego a sobby fuckboy and thats what he is
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You don't exactly flinch when you hear the jingling of keys, or the struggling noises on the other side of your front door at two in the morning. It’s just Diego. Diego who had a key to your apartment but didn't call you his girlfriend by the light of day. Diego that basically lived here but you have never seen where he actually lives. Diego who once he finally has the key in the door and is turning the lock comes stumbling in. You can hear the thudding of his boots grow louder down the hall as he reaches your bedroom, where you've been up reading, a cardigan draped over you as you fight insomnia. You try to beat him to the door, putting your book aside and jumping up, but before your hand can reach the handle, he’s pushing it open, quickly guiding his way through to your form, cutting off any questions you might have. You sink into the kiss, plump lips warm and inviting as always, kissing you with force that makes your brain fuzzy. Your arms instinctively come up around his shoulders, but you don't miss the way he flinches at your touch. Somethings off, but you push the thought from your mind as your tongue darts out of your mouth, ready to be welcomed into Diego’s mouth. But then you taste copper. Warm, slick copper. Blood.
“Diego,” you try to get his attention, but he’s adamant to keep his lips on you. So you push, hands coming to find his chest and push against him, at least enough to get an answer out of him. You fight his grasp, pulling your face away from his as his lips chase yours.
“Diego, wait, Diego stop,” you push him away, at arm's length when you finally get a good look at him. He’s got a split lip, the beginnings of a black eye which bloomed near his cheek bone and ended near his brow.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“There was… a fight,” he offers, way more nonchalant than you want him to be right now. He lets you go, but stays close. He’s caught and he knows it.
“A fight about goddamn what, Diego?” your voice comes out strained, exasperated.
“I’ve been fighting for your honor, babe,” he offers to you, almost slurring from a hit to the mouth, but then adds, “You wouldn’t understand.” when he sees your puzzled face. Babe. That’s funny. Not the first time he’s called you babe, but it feels facetious coming from his lips. You would understand if it was just another boxing match, you would understand if it was bullshit having to do with that family he’s never introduced you to. But to somehow be fighting for your honor was alien, dishonest of him to say. Now, you know Diego is a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them. He’s holding out on you, holding back. So if he didn't want to tell you, why was he even here?
“I don't understand? You’re right, I don't,” and then, fuck. You realise what this is. He’s asking for help, showing vulnerability in his own little messed up way.
You sigh, deeply, crossing the floor in front of him.
“Hold on, your honor,” you snort, the ghost of an affectionate smile on your face, “I’ll get ice for your hands.”
If he was going to come up with some bullshit line like your honor, you were going to at least patch him up and give him the couch treatment. He doesn’t get bed privileges for bullshit excuses of kissing you with bloody mouth, you decide.
The walk to your kitchen in the dark is something you have memorized, the fuzzy blacks and greys of your apartment shaping into the furniture and corners you know by daylight. How different they are, shapes and their familiarity based on your perception of them. Your sock clad feet trace steps ghosted over by months of bumping around for midnight water, for candles during storms, for late night snacking. Your hands reach out, and meet the handle of the freezer mechanically, wrenching it open and fumbling for an ice pack or something frozen to help him. Your hands find a box that will do, just before you hear heavy steps following your path.
Diego grabs you by the hips from behind, but not harshly. You feel him wrap his body around you, molding to your form as his head dips and nuzzles against your hair, sighing as he lets himself enjoy the feeling of you.
“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, almost a moan, “Let’s just make love. Let's make love and go to bed. It’s the only thing that’ll make me feel better right now.”
Like hell it is. For someone who won't call you his girlfriend, Diego is a hopeless romantic, and has been the entire time you’ve been doing whatever it is you'd describe this arrangement as.
“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ as you continue, “I don’t kiss people that lose fights.”
He scoffs, sounding legitimately offended.
“Lose fights? Baby, I won the fight. C’mon let’s just get you out of that sweater.”
He pulls the cardigan off of one of your shoulders, exposing you to the chill and his warm hand, immediately making you try to shrug it back up to its original location. This isn’t how tonight is going to go.
“Well, I don't kiss winners either,” you pull the box out of the freezer and close it, still not turning around to face him, “Instead you're making me play nurse.”
“I- I can leave. If y-you dont want me to be here.” he deflates, playful tone leaving, but he doesn't back away. You sigh, deeply.
“No, Diego that's not what I mean. But I’m not rewarding you for this. I don't fight for honor.”
You don't, and you wouldn't; and he shouldn't fight for yours. He shouldn't waste his energy on just a fling.
“So, nurse,” he’s back to joking, “What’s my charge? Gargle with peroxide? A steak for my eye?”
You laugh, actually laugh, and turn to face him, finally. You hold up the box in your hand, and he takes it.
“I’m a vegetarian, remember? It’s a frozen pizza pie.”
He laughs, and accepts it gratefully, looking like an idiot holding the pizza up to his face. You tell him to follow you, and lead him in the darkness to the couch, letting him sit and spread out, legs wide. You opt to perch on the cushion farthest from him, letting him own the space as it’s about to be his bed for the night. His hand that isn’t holding the pizza to his black eye brushes the back of the couch, reaching for you in the darkness. You pick at the fleece of your cardigan, white as snow. You’re lucky he didn’t manage to taint it with his blood, you think, but then dismiss the thought. Staining the cardigan and letting him ruin it would be fitting at this point.
“It’s because I care,” his voice comes out in little more than a whisper. You don’t say anything, hoping he’ll continue.
“It’s because I care about you. I don’t want anyone to get that twisted.”
You really hope his good eye can’t see how wide your eyes are right now, your eyebrows finding a new home in your hairline.
“Diego you— You don’t have to,” fuck, how do you say this? Your hands run through your hair, lip trembling in a way you don’t understand, “You don’t have to defend me, or anything like that.”
He turns to face you, whole body turning with the movement as he hikes a knee up onto the couch.
“You got me, or… whatever this shit is,” you sigh again, the weight of these words hard to pronounce on your tired tongue, “but it’s not like you've asked me to be your girlfriend or anything special. I’m like a common ho, a bootycall that you sometimes get brunch with, Diego.”
His hand along the back of the couch reaches for your hand, and your instincts tell you to rip your hand away from him, but you don’t. You let him hold your hand, let his fingers cage your own and hold them tight. Let your palms fit against each other.
“Just…” your mouth is trembling again, and you wish it fucking wasn’t. “Don’t get cut or anything for me, because it’s not going to change anything. I still won’t be a saint. Don’t be out there fighting for my honor when you haven’t made it yours to defend.”
Even in the dark you can see your words hit him like a freight train, and you wish you hadn’t opened your stupid fucking mouth. You wish you hadn’t been angry at Diego. You wish you had something better than a stupid fucking pizza for him to be holding against his face right now. He moves closer to where you’re sat curled in the corner, makes sure his thigh is brushed up and nestled under your calves. If you want to, you can rest on him. If you want to, you can be sitting in his lap.
“Y-you wanna know why I was fighting, baby?” he's deadly serious. “Because you’re worth it. You don’t need to be a saint. You’re my little pizzatarian that makes me hold deep dish against a black eye.”
You laugh, watery and trembling, and you let your legs relax against his.
“I w-want you to be my g-girlfriend. I want to fight everyone in the city with my bare hands if it means I get to be y-yours.” his voice sounds just as shaky as yours now. “Y-you know I love you, R-right?”
He loves you. You believe him. Diego Hargreeves is a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. You nod, not bothering to ask for clarity, or why he thinks you’re worth it. You just nod. He releases your hand, and uses it to pull you in against his chest. He lets you re-adjust to curl up and fit into his lap. Like it was made for you. You stay like that in the dark, resolving to reinstate his bed privileges.
“Let’s go to bed, Diego.”
You can feel him nod against you. He waits for you to get up, your hand outstretched and waiting for him as he rises to his feet with a groan. You walk by his side until you reach the threshold, and then stop.
“What is it?”
“You get comfy, your honor, I’ll be in there in a minute.”
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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years ago
Note
Hi! I love your writing! Can you maybe write companions reacting to Shaun calling them mom/dad, maybe when theyre in trouble (like raiders attacking their settlement/home)? Have a good day!
Cait:
“Yeah! Get them mama!”
Had she not been any better with her reflexes, the little boy’s words may have ended up landing her missing a few teeth. There just so happened to be a raider dumb enough to try to break into your little home, so naturally..Cait goes in for the swinging once she made sure they didn’t have a gun on them.
With one final swift punch to the invaders head, Cait seized victory once again- and yet..all she could think about was the way that the child calling her that made her feel. She probably wouldn’t even outwardly acknowledge it- but once it was just the two of you in your own privacy, she’d confess that she was terrified.
Curie:
“Hey mom, do you need any help with the labs today? It looks really neat- I bet you could teach me all kinds of stuff.”
The second she heard what the little boy said, her heart swelled 10x in size just from pure joy. “Well of course you can, just make sure to wear the proper safety equipment, sweetheart.” She’d respond, giving Shaun a pair of safety glasses and wearing one of the sweetest, most proudest grins ever imaginable upon her face.
Danse:
Even though he wasn’t really a light sleeper, Danse had the ability to wake up as soon as someone entered the room. This was of course true when your son nudged the door open, his blanket slung messily over his shoulder and his eyes wide.
Once he realized who it was, Danse relaxed the slightest bit. “What’s wrong, Shaun?” He’d ask with a voice ladened with a hefty sleepiness.
“I-I’m scared, Dad. I had a nightmare and it- it just seemed..*sniffle*..it seemed so real.”
Suddenly the sleep would be knocked right of Paladin when his mind caught on to what the small child just said. Him? Dad?
Blinking away the shock, Danse tilted his head toward your peacefully sleeping body. “Here, come see son.” He’d urge with a yawn, waiting for the little boy to climb between you and him. Once snug, he’d then wrap his arm around the both of you.
Just when had he become so lucky?
Deacon:
“You’re really the best, Dad.”
Upon hearing such a bold assertion from the child, Deacon would stand in pause for just a mere moment. Chills would race up and down his spine as he stared down at the wondrously kind eyes lovingly peering back up at him. As much as he desired to keep looking back, a smirk would ghost his lips- thankfully he was able to concoct a little bullshit response on the fly.
“Yeah, ya ain’t too bad yourself either kiddo. You take after your dad.” He’d affectionately tease back, patting the child on the shoulder.
Gage:
If there was one thing that kids were, Gage learned that they were inquisitive little shits. Your own child was a testament to that statement. Just when Gage thought he could relax, up comes Shaun with an array of questions ready to shoot.
“Pa, why do you wear an eyepatch? Did something happen or are you just saving that eye’s strength?”
Gage coughed whenever he realized what Shaun used as his opener. Nuka-cola spurted from the raider’s nose, causing him to sputter as he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“Come again?” He’d ask with one huge green eye, trying not to cough a lung up in the process.
He was happy though, even if he might’ve killed himself choking on nuka-cola.
Hancock:
It was honestly alerting to see how shocked he was that this happened. He knew goodneighbor was no place for his son but..he never expected this to happen. While down at the third rail, some deranged man came down demanding money- pulling out a gun as he spoke.
“Papa, please...are we going to be okay?” Shaun’s terrified eyes bore straight into the ghoul’s very soul, making his heart break despite how happy he should’ve felt after hearing those words.
Putting a hand atop the boy’s shoulder, Hancock made sure to keep both of their bodies below the table. “Of course we are kiddo, you just sit here and don’t make a sound.”
And with that, Hancock would spring up and shoot his way to safety- he had to. His son was there after all.
Macready:
Having two little boys in the house was already bad enough. Having two of them similar in age and just as troublesome as each other? Whew, it was an understatement to say that you and Mac had your plates full.
Luckily with his experience, things weren’t entirely hectic. Just like now..
You had managed to come home right on time to catch Mac mid-scolding. His hat nearly falling from his head as he cashed his gaze down at the pouting children in front of him .
“I don’t care how much fun it is, you two can’t go around spooking the neighbors. That’s the best way to get shot, for fu-..for Pete’s sake.” You couldn’t barely hold in your chuckle at your lover’s choice of words, since when had he become so dramatic?
“Sheesh, chill dad..” Shaun spoke, dismissing his adoptive father with a wave of his hand before he and Duncan promptly ran off- leaving a completely dumbfounded Mac to sit and process what just happened.
Did his two sons really just dismiss him like that? Did Shaun...did Shaun just call him dad?
Maxson:
It was all Maxson had wanted. This feeling of belonging..it was amazing. It was something that even the brotherhood and all it’s devoted members couldn’t provide him.
“Hey Dad, you alright?” Shaun’s little voice pierced through Arthur in a way that wasn’t at all painful, yet somehow hit him like a freight train.
It was then that Maxson realized he had been staring, jaw hanging. “W-what? No, I mean..yes, yes I’m alright Shaun. Is everything okay?” Real smooth, don’t worry, Arthur promptly begins to beat himself up over it.
Though confused, Arthur was so, so very happy.
Nick:
“Da, are you coming or what?”
Immediately, Nick assumed he had overheated. Surely there was no possible way Shaun was calling him...no. Blinking a few times, one could even hear the low whir of his servos fire up as he tried to process what just happened. Once he finally realized that yes, that was indeed reality- a huge smile would grace the synth’s face in response. In an attempt not to “lose his cool”, Nick would just simply nod and follow along- replaying the entire thing in his head over and over again.
Old Longfellow:
He had expected “Grandpa” before he got a “dad” out of the little boy, if he even got that! Honestly he didn’t expect much, he loved the kid but..come on, he’s some old man kissing up on the child’s mama/papa. With that being said, for the first time in quite a while, joy like sparklers- erupted all throughout the old man’s body whenever Shaun tugged his coat one rainy day and-
“Can I please come with you, pa? I’ll need to learn how to fix those condensers up one day anyways!”
Piper:
Piper, of all people, didn’t really think she’d be so happy being so..so domestic. Not a single article written, not a single story hunted down for the day or anything- just family time. Just you, her, Nat, and Shaun.
Much like your day, the night also consisted of this calmness. Only coming to an end whenever it was officially bed time.
“I love you ma, good night.” Shaun sleepily muttered, turning around in the process so he could get comfortable and ready to sleep.
That was probably for the best, for as soon as she heard those magical little words, Piper’s eyes welled with tears without warning- only spilling whenever she was back in the comfort of her own room with you at her side.
Preston:
“Pa, are you sure you and mom won’t be gone for too long?”
The words stopped Preston dead in his tracks. Yes, it was his duty as your lieutenant- and your own as General, to respond to distress calls whenever they were made..so that unfortunately left your poor son in the care of your other companions more often than you’d like- more so, more than Preston would care for.
It was things like this that made him consider retiring all together.
Turning around, Preston would kneel down in front of the child, happiness shining in a luminous way within his dark eyes. “I..I promise you that we’ll be back before you even miss us, son.”
“Impossible, I miss you and mama already.”
Sturges:
“Dad, I’m scared..”
The very second he heard the little boy trembling in his arms whisper, the synth man felt cold fear flow through his veins. Raiders, always fucking raiders.
It was normal at this point for them to show up every now and then, usually you’d just chase them off with your flashy guns and whatnot- and you were doing that- but while you were out being the hero, it was Sturges prime duty to ensure shaun’s safety. As such, he’d take the little boy to their usual hiding spot and try to get him to be quiet...but that? That was enough to make him want to personally go out there and rip a raiders head off. How dare they scare his..his son?
“Shhh, I’ve gotcha little buddy..you just hang in tight.”
X6-88:
(I honestly don’t see how this could happen with Shaun in particular- even with the whole au I use with Maxson and Shaun dynamics- Shaun would still know X6 as that cool dude that teleported him back and forth.)
-sorry this took so long, hope you liked it.
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my-proof-is-you · 4 years ago
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Secretly Broken - Pt. 4 (Final)
Jared x Reader
Summary: When your best friend asked you to be a nanny for his kids, you jumped at the opportunity. You didn’t have much going on in your career, so it seemed like the perfect way to keep making money while you looked for your next job. Things take a turn, though, when you realize that keeping your feelings for Jared at bay isn’t as easy as you thought. Not only that, you would never want to come between him and his wife. While you are doing your best to keep your feelings secret, Jared has a secret of his own.
Warnings: fluff, angst
A/N: So because I think Gen is awesome, for the sake of what is happening in this fic, Jared married someone else. Kids names are the same, though :)
Honestly, this is based on a dream I had. So…idk. Apparently I love Jared.
Masterlist | Tag Yourself!
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You
You taped the note to the Padalecki’s door, stepping back to make sure it stuck before you turned to leave. 
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you hopped in the cab, directing the driver to the airport. 
You thought over the words you’d written, sniffling to yourself as the car began to move. 
Jare,
I can’t be your nanny anymore. I love the kids—God I love them—but I can’t stay and mess up your life and your family any more. 
You all mean the world to me. I’ve added the phone number to a trusted friend who can nanny for you until you find my replacement. 
Y/N
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Jared
Jared folded the piece of paper he was holding, letting out a sigh. He shoved it in his pocket, pushing down his disappointment as Tom came into the room.
“Daddy, when will Y/N be here?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, bud,” he responded, ruffling his son’s hair. It was unusual for you to be late, and Jensen was coming over soon to go out with him.
“Hey, Paddles,” Jensen called as he let himself in. 
“Hey, man,” he replied as he saw the man coming into the living room.
“Someone left a note on your door,” he said, holding out an envelope. Jared took it, tearing it open with a curious look. Jensen continued into the house, sitting down on the couch while Jared began to read. 
He felt his heart drop into his stomach. 
“No…” he said quietly. 
“What?” Jensen asked with concern. 
“Boys, go get ready for bed,” he said, thankful that Odette was already down for the night. “I’ll be up to tuck you in soon.”
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His sons listened, telling their uncle Jensen goodnight before racing up the stairs.
“Jare, what is it? You’re scaring me,” Jensen said, pulling Jared to sit next to him on the couch. Jared let him, plopping down on the couch since his legs didn’t seem to want to hold him up anyway.
“S-She’s gone,” he said finally, his eyes scanning the note over and over.
“Who? Natalie?” Jensen asked, taking the letter from him.
“No...well, yes, but no…” Jared trailed off, letting Jensen read the note for himself. 
“Y/N? But why?” he asked as he finished reading.
“I really don’t know,” Jared replied, running his hands through his hair. 
“Well did you guys have a fight? Is something going on with the kids?” Jensen prodded.
“I don’t think so, man. I mean, Natalie came home the other night, and I was trying to comfort Y/N. She seemed like she was having a bad day. I was hugging her, and after I went to talk to Natalie I came downstairs and Y/N was gone.”
“Oh,” Jensen replied as if he understood now why you left.
“What?” Jared asked, still confused.
“Well based one what she wrote, she didn’t want to get in the way of your marriage.”
“What? How?” Jared asked, shocked.
“Dude, c’mon,” Jensen replied. 
“What?”
“The chemistry between you and Y/N is obvious. And with what you told me...hugging her? The way you always flirt? I’m guessing it was hard for her not to read into it.”
“Fuck,” Jared said, realization hitting him like a freight train.
“Yeah. You screwed up,” Jensen said. “And Y/N is kinda right, man. You really shouldn’t have been like that with her. You’re married.”
“No, I’m not,” Jared said, standing up and pacing the room.
“What?” Jensen asked, confused.
“I’m not married. Natalie and I have been divorced for months,” he explained. Jensen stared at him with an open mouth. “Things have been bad between us for a long time. But she didn’t want any bad publicity for her movie.”
“That’s selfish,” Jensen remarked.
“No shit. I learned a lot about her after she got this role,” Jared said, shaking his head. “And to top it all off, just before you got here I was reading something I got in the mail,” he said, fishing the folded paper out of his pocket. He handed it to his best friend.
“She’s giving up custody?” Jensen said, looking up from the paper with wide eyes.
“Yeah. Not only was she a shitty wife, she also doesn’t seem to care about the kids.”
“Wow, Jare. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Jensen asked. 
“I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want it to accidentally get out to the kids before I could properly tell them.” He chuckled dryly. “I have no idea how I’m going to tell them this now.”
Jensen sighed. “Okay, regardless of all this shit with Natalie...what about Y/N?”
Jared closed his eyes, sighing. “I can’t lose her, Jay. Not after everything.”
Jensen nodded solemnly. “Do you love her?”
“To be honest, I hadn’t let myself think about it,” he responded, sitting down on the couch again. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears he could feel stinging his eyes. “But if how I’m feeling now is any indication...yes. I love her.”
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You
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“Hi, Danneel,” you said into the phone as you pulled the speaker away from your ear. 
“What the fuck, Y/N? You leave town without telling any of us, just a lame note stuck to Jared’s door?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to try to stop me.”
“Yeah, and I would’ve! You are being stupid!” she said, exasperated. 
“Danneel, you know that I appreciate you being blunt with me usually, but this is not fun.”
“Why did you leave? Because of your crush?”
“Yes! He just...he’s affectionate. And for him, it just being friendly. For me, though, it means more. And Natalie fucking walked in while he was hugging me and I’m sure I’m just causing problems for their marriage. I am not going to do that.”
She sighed. “Natalie is never fucking there,” she said slowly. “You are. And by the way, he is heartbroken that you left.”
“H-He is?”
“You really need to talk to him, Y/N,” she said. You felt like there was something she wasn’t telling you.
“What’s going on, Danneel?” you asked.
“Just...talk to him. Please.”
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Your finger hovered over the call button, Jared’s contact information shining from your phone. 
You were terrified. You’d left like a coward, and you knew he was probably furious that you’d left him with just a note.
You sighed, leaning back into the couch at your parent’s house. You’d gone there after leaving Austin, needing to clear your head and get out of town for a while. 
You finally tapped your phone, the line ringing as you held your breath.
“Y/N?” Jared answered, sounding almost breathless.
“Hi,” you said weakly. 
“Hi,” he responded. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded sad.
“I’m sorry I left. I just...couldn’t be there anymore.” you said after a silence. 
“You could’ve talked to me,” he responded.
“No, I couldn’t. It would have ruined everything.” 
“Y/N, Natalie and I are divorced.”
Your eyes widened as you took in the information. “W-What?”
“It’s been a few months. We were keeping it a secret so the press didn’t find out,” he said, almost scoffing. 
“B-But what about the kids?” you asked, immediately concerned for how they were taking it. 
He chuckled a little bit, which confused you. 
“They’re okay,” he said quietly. “I explained it the best I could, and they seemed to understand. They weren’t exactly close with her.”
“Jared, if I did anything to—“
“Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. Natalie was what was wrong. We were wrong from the beginning. She...she gave up custody of the kids.”
You gasped. You couldn’t understand how anyone could do that. They were the three most perfect children you’d ever met.
“You see?” he said resolutely. “Your first thought was to worry about the kids. I can tell, even without seeing your face that you’re horrified that she gave them up.” He paused. “I should have told you a long time ago, Y/N.”
“I get it, Jare. You didn’t want it getting out.”
“No, Y/N. I should have told you a long time ago...I’m in love with you. I have been for years.”
Your mouth dropped open. “Y-You love me?”
“Yes. What I felt for Natalie always paled in comparison to what I feel for you. I love you.”
“I...I love you, too,” you said. “So, so much.”
“Good,” he replied. You could almost hear his smile. “Then come outside.”
You felt a smile spread across your face. You rushed to the front door, wrenching it open. You saw Jared standing at the end of the driveway, his car a few feet behind him.
“I guess Danneel told you where I was,” you said, still talking into the phone.
“I may have had to threaten her,” he said, a smirk on his face. You threw your phone on the grass in front of you, rushing down the sidewalk. You leapt as soon as you got to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. You hugged him as tight as you could, his hand cradling the back of your neck. 
You pulled back, his lips crashing into yours. It was everything you’d been wanting for years. His lips melded perfectly to yours, your tongues dancing as you slowly slid down until you were standing in front of him. 
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When you pulled apart he reached a hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear. 
“Will you come home to our family?” he asked.
You nodded, unable to stop your smile. “Do the boys hate me?” you asked, knowing you should never have left them.
“They could never hate you. They have been asking about you nonstop, though.” He cupped your cheek. “They haven’t asked about Natalie once. You know why?”
You shook your head.
“Because you have been more of a mother to them than she is even capable of.”
“I love them, Jare. All three of them. You are my family.”
“Let’s go home,” he said, smiling. You kissed him again, standing on your toes to reach his lips. 
Later, as you walked in the door to his house, the boys ran to hug you. 
“Y/N! You’re back! We missed you!” Tom yelled, practically jumping up and down. 
“I missed you too, Tom,” you responded, your heart nearly breaking. Jensen had been watching the kids and gave you a big smile as he carried Odette in from the living room.
“Are you staying?” he asked.
You looked to Jared, who had taken Odette from Jensen.
“As long as you’ll have me,” you replied, your eyes never leaving Jared’s.
THE END
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Forevers:
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Secretly Broken
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giraffe-lesbian · 4 years ago
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darksparks hcs ahoy. Wraith and Nat loves to leave small post it notes all over their apartment. Love notes, jokes, puns, drawings, etc and Wattson keeps every notes in her journal. Secretly, Wraith's a cuddler but is afraid and shy to initiate them. Wattson gladly showers Wraith with hugs and kisses to make Wraith more comfortable especially when they're alone. One of Wraith's favorite thing to do is to trace Wattson's face (freckles, scars, eyebrows, nose) and try her best to commit them in her memory in case she has amnesia again. Wattson loves to play with Wraith's smooth and silky hair and her scars across her abdomen (and abs). They're a touchy feely and very affectionate couple.
Anon, you KILLED me with this. First off, they’re great headcanons, and I loved them.
But also! “One of Wraith’s favorite things to do is to trace Wattson’s face (freckles, scars, eyebrows, nose) and try her best to commit them in her memory in case she has amnesia again?” ANON, that hit me like a FREIGHT TRAIN. Also big agree that they’re a very affectionate couple; wraith would have to warm up to it, but I think in the end she’d end up loving it.
So I wrote a little something for it, it’ll be below the cut! I’ve also got an AO3 link for ya if ya ain’t fond of reading it on here. I did that headcanon alongside just the idea of them generally being affectionate! It does have a sprinkle of angst though, I think...
I hope you enjoy :^D
Commit It To Memory 
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029503
Bright blue eyes, small nose, a few freckles spread across her face, contagious big smile, bright pink scar that ran underneath-
“You’re being observant, aren’t you?” Natalie croons, a giggle rising out of her chest. Those bright blue eyes are shining with a special kind of fondness, reserved only for Renee. There’s that smile there too, pearly and bright. She’s been watching her as Renee studies her face, and the skirmisher had been too focused to even know it.
Renee meets the expectant gaze, and she playfully rolls her eyes. Oh, she loves this woman. Maybe too much for her own good. She cups the other girl’s cheek, stroking lovingly, and leans over to press a kiss to her temple.
Natalie’s eyes flutter closed, and she lets out a pleasant sigh.
“What are you thinking about, ma chérie?” she quietly asks, slowly reopening her eyes. She’s now taken one of Renee’s hands from her face, instead holding it in between them now, rubbing soft circles across skin. Sometimes, Natalie can read her like a book.
Words sit on the skirmisher’s tongue. The ones she wants to say are too heavy to get out. Instead she lets out a low hum and mumbles, “Nothing.”
Bright pink scar that runs underneath her right eye, dances and branches off along her skin, runs from her freckled cheek to her neck, down all along her right arm, nothing short of her own personal lightning bolt.
This must be committed to memory, Renee has decided. She doesn’t want to forget.
Please, don’t let her forget.
Natalie has shifted closer now, curling up against the other woman. She lets their legs become entangled beneath the sheets, and an arm goes lazily across the other’s torso. A finger traces along Renee’s collarbone with a quiet hum, and a chaste kiss is pressed to her jawline before Natalie is satisfied. Natalie knows when to press and when to not.
This is Natalie’s way of getting Renee’s attention, silently reminding her that she is here in the present moment, and the closest she’ll be to being truly safe. A reminder that she’s made the right choices so far and will hopefully continue to make them. Most important of all, it’s a reminder that Natalie is there if Renee needs her.
Renee, in turn, draws Natalie closer. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and presses her nose to Natalie’s hair, being greeted by the familiar smell of the blonde’s shampoo.
Her study is done for the night, she has decided. She has tomorrow night, the night after that, the night after that, and so on. It’s not a promise, nothing ever is, but Renee wants so desperately to believe it is.
She just can’t forget. Not this time, not now. It’s too good, too loving to lose, and Renee doesn’t have any of that in her life to begin with. It’s just not a risk she’s willing to take. So she will continue to observe, catch the bigger picture and the details.
Until it’s committed to memory, so strong that it can’t be erased.
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fabulaee · 3 years ago
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COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE
// A 🐺 fic based on my Stay journey’s aesthetics which was a coffee shop au bc they remind me of those times when I used to go to the café to draw and would see fellow regulars but unlike y/n and Chan, I never interact with them. We all just share a table 😂😂😂
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*
*
*
Monday. Wednesday. Friday
That was the set schedule for your coffee run. MWF from 9 am to 10, then coming back with your study supplies from 1 to 4 in the afternoon. It was routine; the small college café a safe haven from the slight messy floor of your dorm and the formal vibe of the library. Here you were focused and at peace of mind. The aroma of the coffee beans and soft sounds of the coffeeshop’s playlist serving as background noise.
There wasn’t much students at this time of the day compared to the much later prime of the evenings. The café then filled with college youths grabbing a drink after a long day’s worth of lectures and test reminders or staying to cram a night’s worth of information. There was something about cafés that seemed inviting and less suffocating yet at the same time a place where you can find the nursing students with their big thick books opened with streaks of neon yellow running across them.
“Vanilla Bean Cold Brew for y/n!”
Standing up, you went to grab your drink leaving behind the pastel rainbow set of highlighters and gel pens on top of your notes. You quickly thanked the barista as he handed you a straw before plopping back down on your seat continuing where you last went off. Something about the history of impressionistic art. You sighed as you lifted your eyes across the room, it was currently 2:30 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. A good time to take a break before your mind starts to commit brain fart.
*
Chris Bang. Affectionally called Bang Chan by his friends. Music major with golden hands, a good candidate for the honor roll, member of the varsity swim team, and resident social butterfly. An all rounder any college is proud to have.
You heard about him once or twice from your common friend, Yang Hongseok. They met at the gym apparently and became quick friends through the Japanese exchange student, Adachi Yuto, and their shared love for fitness.
You see him sit at the same spot everyday since the middle of sophomore year. His laptop with the cute decal of Deadpool open and his AirPods snugly tucked in his ears. He's always has his blonde head bopping to a song he's playing on either his phone or his laptop. Always seemed so engrossed in this little world he made for himself across the room, ignorant to the bustling crowd of students that come and go.
He looks up catching you off guard. His lips curled slightly upwards, chuckling to himself as he watches your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. Great, he must think I'm a weirdo!
With a quick exchange of nods you both went back to doing your own thing. Just a regular day at the coffee shop.
*
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
It's the Friday following Monday's slightly embarrassing incident. You looked up to find the same Chris Bang, laptop in hand, smiling at you like a friendly yet lost puppy. Warm brown orbs looking back at yours.
“My laptop's about to die and this is the only table with an outlet.” He explains himself, a tiny awkward giggle making up as the period.
“O-oh, of course!” You stuttered, hastily making room for him despite the large space as you swiped for the stray pastel highlighters and napkins closer. “No one's sitting here so go ahead.”
He whispered a small thanks before setting down his laptop to grab his bag from his usual spot while you went back to your notes. It was silent for awhile, only the sounds of pen against paper and the soft tick tack of the keys. At some point you hit a mind block, eyes glazing in boredom as you stared at the blank space of your notebook. You felt your table mate leave his stationary position too. he stretched in his seat before turning his attention to you.
Sensing his sudden gaze on you, you flashed him a small smile. You were never one to start a conversation, often keeping to yourself and minding your own business. A bit of a complete opposite towards the friendly Australian who somehow knows at least three students from each program.
He smiles back at you showing off his cute dimples and an outstretched hand. “Hey, I'm Chan. I never caught your name.”
Again with the cute giggle. It seems to be like a signature to him but it's cute still the same. You grasped his hand giving it a soft shake. “Y/n,” you answered curtly.
*
The following days you find yourself hanging around Chan more. Afternoon study sessions were no longer a date between you and the textbook or the small watercolor set you laid out on the table. Chan was there to fill the space making the long table that was a party of one to a party of two and maybe some on certain busy hours but mostly it was the both of you in your own tiny world.
You got to know him, his likes and dislikes. His major and passion for music, sometimes slipping in a few complaints about certain homework here and there; What else he likes to do. Apparently mr. Chris Bang was gifted in so many areas you often wondered what good he must've done in his previous life to be this gifted. Not only was he a jack of all trades, he's also the master of all.
You even had a small debate between Deadpool and Spider-Man. God, he's such a nerd it's adorable!
In return he knew these things about you. How you're taking up art as your major hoping to make it out as an illustrator one day—
“it would be so cool if you drew a variant cover for Deadpool!”
“Ha! We'll see about that, Chris Reynolds.”
He knows how you like to collect stickers and are quite passionate about making sure your notes are beautiful. He knows how you loved your drinks iced despite it being the middle of winter.
“Isn’t the weather too cold for that?” He’d ask with a quirk of his brow, amused brown eyes glancing at the iced hazelnut latte you have in your hands.
“Nope!” you replied, taking a sip as you did so. “It’s always the perfect weather for an iced coffee, Bang.”
He only chuckled at that.
*
It hit you like a freight train. You didn’t mean to fall for him. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You and Chan? No way, it was just supposed to be just friends. The kind where you hang out and have fun, no feelings attached. He was just supposed to be that regular from the café, right?
That was the plan, right?
But you can’t deny the small flutters from your heart much like those newly emerged butterflies. How you can feel that giddy feeling of excitement when you spot his mop of chocolate curly locks outside the café’s window. How you mirror his smile when you get together to talk about anything and everything under the sun. Bang Chan in all his cute dimpled glory, soft curls and hearty giggles was just too much to adore.
Yet it wasn’t that what pulled you in to the Music major. You felt love blossom when you both stayed up late, when the café was quiet after a busy day. The only people around being a couple medical students, some late night goers, and the employees. You felt the tiny flower buds start to bloom when he stayed with you then; keeping you company under the dimly warm fluorescent lights, laptop tucked away and a hand playing with yours.
You felt it bloom when you cuddled on the booth’s sofa one rainy November day. He scoots over next to you when he saw you shiver from the corner of his eyes. He’s naturally warm —you’d often tease him how he made the room hot. Why? well it’s because he’s from Australia! which earned the loud chorus of laughter from his friends and Chan’s ears turning into the color of the fire hydrant.
“Babygirl, you’re shivering.” He mutters as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently towards him. You accepted the subtle invitation, sides sticking together as you both went through forgotten notes and half finished coffees.
You felt it when you caught yourself staring at him a little longer than intended. Eyes drifting from Jisung’s expressive face to glance at the older one. You watched him look at the former with such adoration in his eyes; how he looked like a proud dad. You watched him nod along and laugh to Jisung’s animated story about how he and Hyunjin would fight back in the day, a fact that still seemed to shock you seeing how they are the best of friends.
Your eyes would linger on him while he worked on his music; focused and determined, hiding the exhaustion and sleepless nights prominent on the dark circles under his eyes. He was handsome even if he looked like shit. Hell, he was handsome even when he sported the infamous broccoli colored hair. You’d find yourself in a trance, like it was a dream. The world didn’t matter as much anymore when it was only you and Chan in the small dimly table, surrounded by the aroma of coffee beans at the small quaint cafe at the corner of the street.
*
You loved him. You loved him in the most beautiful of ways; you loved him in the most perfect highs and in all those crevices full of flaws.
You loved him in those bright moments, when the lights were shining on him during a 3RACHA gig. How they made him more beautiful, how they made him stand out from the 2 younger members. You loved watching him do what he loves; how he immersed himself in a world that was different from yours. How his version of colors and dried paint were beats and melodies, rhythm and tempos.
You loved him in the lowest moments; when the tide was high enough to cover you. You loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, how he became a shoulder to lean on when you felt the world was against you and you to him. When he would open up to you about his worst fears and his grandiose ambitions; when he spilled his heart out at the underlaying insecurity that’s been biting him due to his perfectionist attitude. You became his confidante; the one he can trust his heart to.
You loved him in the times he was vulnerable. You loved him when he would bask in glory and shining lights. You loved him like those cheesy lines in love songs. You loved him like how the tides would look at the moon in awe and yearning; gravitating with every push and pull.
You loved him in ways words can never describe. How the seeds he planted in your heart bloomed to the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.
You love him simply because he’s Chan.
You promised yourself you’d be just friends. It was safer that way but then again, what is love when she’s not one without twists and turns?
What is love when she comes to you, sneaky and sly like a weed disguised as a flower, whispering into your ear that it’s him.
It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.
It was always him, it just took you some time to figure that out.
*
When you first met Chan, he was simply a friend of a friend. Someone you knew because your brothers are his friends. He was the guy you’d hear about in passing, the popular cool guy with a heart bigger than a massive sized teddy bear and a smile that could cure the most depressing of days. Someone who, in probability, would just be an acquaintance to you.
He was that guy you regularly saw at the coffee shop you visited every week. He was just some guy from the music department who would flash you a friendly smile because you were a familiar face.
Funny how fate made him more than what you originally expected him to be.
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mylordshesacactus · 5 years ago
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In that case how about commentary on Deadlift ('yeet the sheep')
YEET THE SHEEP
the 5+1 format, even if it’s a very loose 5+1 (Robyn carrying Fiona was neither the first angsty life-or-death lift nor the first time it was Robyn, but it WAS the only thing that officially happened in canon and marked a significant shift in terms of their life trajectories) is one of my favorites. It lets me take a bunch of vignettes and string them together, in a way that feels a lot more natural and satisfying than just a bunch of unconnected scenes.
A lot of the time, doing a 5+1, you find yourself finding thematic/plot threads you didn’t anticipate when you started! I remember when writing Take Five, the line “Velvet, you risk your life for these people” hit me like a fucking freight train when I hadn’t even planned that line until I started writing the scene.
In Deadlift one thing that leapt out unexpectedly was Robyn wordlessly enforcing a check-in for consent during some of the roughhousing. It’s in the election night bit, the one where May and Joanna are ganging up on her. Fiona’s laughing, she’s obviously not being hurt, and she’s the one who very intentionally started the whole thing–but she’s also not in a position where she could physically free herself without hurting the others if she wanted to, and she’s verbally telling them to put her down even though every indication is that she doesn’t mean it. So Robyn quietly reminding Joanna to check in with her and make sure everyone is still just playing a game–and Joanna instantly understanding, and asking in a way that makes it clear that they’ve done this kind of thing before–was unexpected but very sweet.
Side note, cutting from Robyn affectionately saying “I’m going to KILL you” straight to Fiona bleeding out in her arms after the election night massacre was not only unintentional but I actually tried to find another way to arrange the fic to avoid it, but it just didn’t flow properly any other way >_
And honestly my favorite thing in this fic is the second to last scene, where Fiona is lounging in her girlfriend’s fluffy bathrobe–listen, Fiona wearing Robyn’s clothes is TRANSCENDENT all right?–with a mug of spiced wine, BLATANTLY eating the eye candy.
She deserved that, all right? She earned it.
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