#a couple weeks but i guess i just adjusted to it. i dunno!
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i need to get new crocs (generally, new shoes, but we'll see) because mine are losing traction while i walk on campus especially with how rainy its been this week. and the amount of times im having my life flash before my eyes because my foot slipped a little bit is not at all fun.
#its so scary lmfao#im like. one bad step away from having a bum knee for 6-8 weeks again. i need Traction#its so scary esp bc of how weird my knees are. theyve been doing alright suprisingly this week considering its been raining every day for#a couple weeks but i guess i just adjusted to it. i dunno!#can feel the tendons/ligaments but it doesnt actually hurt. like at all. i can just feel them
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gross freak
͟͟͞♡ jisung × fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
warning: sub!jisung, dom!reader, kinda gross jisung, established relationship, masturbation (m rec), cock/balls slapping, jisung is gross but they are so in love
=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!
“Honey, I'm home!"
Jisung is kicking off his white sneakers in front of the door. They're a bit stained with mud on the sides, and he knows he’s not allowed to step inside the house wearing those unless he wants to hear your voice reverberating through the apartment. He's still wearing his soccer gear, tiny red shorts with a white stripe down the side, cut just above the knee, and a white tank top that you're sure he wore for the training as well. It's 10 p.m., but it's still warm outside, and the white fabric sticks uncomfortably to Jisung's slim body, a few yellow sweat stains under his armpits.
His hair is still damp from the running, tied in a bun. A red hairband is pulling back his greasy locks from his forehead. He hasn't changed that in at least two weeks.
"Idiot," you chuckle in response, "how was it?"
"Uh, fine I guess" Jisung answers while kicking off his grayish, damp socks along with his shoes, "Changbin-hyung fell and ate a bunch of soil, I laughed so hard I peed my pants" he snorts.
"You all act just like children," you reply with a giggle, "I'm glad you had a good time. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner yet?"
"I ate a burger with the boys . It was huuuuge, baby. Can still feel it moving in my stomach," he replies as he finally enters in the living room delivering his signature goofy smile.
You smile as you see him patting his tummy. Jisung is very thin, almost borderline unhealthy, but a small layer of fat sits stubbornly below his belly button, and it doesn’t go away despite all of the physical exercise. Jisung says it’s okay, that he doesn't mind. But you, you love it.
"Good. You didn’t take a shower there, did you?" you ask stretching your legs on the couch and pausing the show you were watching.
"Nah, I didn't feel like it. I'll do it in a while." Jisung answers while opening the refrigerator and fishing out a can of sprite. He opens it with gnarled fingers and brings it to his lips, chugging half of it in one big gulp.
"Ew, Sungie"
Jisung widens his eyes in fake shock and leans against the peninsula of the kitchen. "Ew? To the love of your life? Your boyfriend, your future husband, the apple of your ey-"
"Enough of this," you laugh as you come closer him, leaning across the peninsula. "I could count the grease stains on your hands if I wanted to. You're dirty."
"Mean," Jisung whispers drinking the other half of the sprite and hiding a burp with one fist. "I thought I'd come home and get a better treatment than this."
You burst out laughing at his words. "Uh, did you have plans? What did you expect big boy, tell me."
Jisung chuckles again and you can see a bit of burger sauce pooled at the corner of his lips.
"Uhh, dunno. A massage, maybe? Showing your baby you love him?”
You laugh, "You want a massage? Come here, that can be arranged." You take a couple of steps back and sit on the couch, on the peninsula side, so you can stretch your legs. Jisung looks at you with a lopsided smile and brings a hand to his head, scratching behind his ear. You can see from a distance the oily strands of hair slipping through his fingers. You should find it disgusting. You really should.
You open your arms and offer him a big smile, "Come on, baby. You must be dead tired, hmm? The boys destroyed you. Come to mama, I'll give you what you need."
Jisung gulps and giggles, wobbling closer to you and letting himself fall into the space between your thighs, abandoning his back against your chest. Then he lets himself slide forward a little, pressing the nape of his neck against the softness of your breasts under the shirt you're wearing.
"Uh, uh. That feels nice already," he murmurs adjusting himself against your chest.
"Have you had some drinks?" you ask, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pinching them lightly. The fabric is damp and smells of sweat and the spray deodorant Jisung always puts on when he doesn't feel like showering.
"Just a couple of beers with Chan-hyung," Jisung sobs as soon as your fingers sink lightly into his muscles, "that man needs to get laid."
"Don't be cocky, Sungie," you reply with a grin as your hands descend to work on the muscles in his arms, "if it wasn’t for me, you'd be jerking off to one of your tacky porns as well. Be grateful I picked you up on the streets and decided you would be mine."
Your words are light, he knows you are joking. Even though, to tell the truth, Jisung was a virgin before meeting you, and the first time you had sex he was so nervous he came before he even managed to put the tip in. Adorable.
Jisung laughs and then he lets out a breathy moan when you run your fingers up between his shoulder blades, focusing on a knot. "That’s true. But now he’s the one jacking off to a shower wall. While me, I have a beautiful girlfriend who decided I was good enough to be adopted. I still am thankful for your bad taste in men."
"My taste in men is great, excuse you," you retort as your chin rests on his head, near the band that pulls back his hair. "I pulled the nastiest hottest boy around. I regret nothing."
Jisung laughs. "You literally call me your rat."
"Rats are cute," you answer back piquantly. Your fingers continue to work on the knot in Jisung's back with a little more insistence. Jisung writhes softly. "You just call me that because I'm a little gross."
You lower your head to rest a kiss on his greasy hair. There's gel residue on the strands, and it's a bit crusty.
"You know how much I love that you're a little gross. Makes me feral."
"You're a freak." Jisung laughs as your hands finish massaging his shoulder blades and descend to the front, down to his chest, to caress his sore pecs.
"Maybe," you admit. "Tell me how many beers you've had again. Just the truth this time, hmm?"
"Five. Or six. Maybe six. Ah-" Jisung gulps when you brush your thumb on his pec, grazing his nipple. "Feelin' a bit tipsy."
"I know, my love," you whisper as you continue massaging his chest with your fingers. Jisung's head is nestled perfectly between your breasts and you feel his ribcage swell and deflate quickly, like a baby bird. "You're all wriggly. You just can't sit still when you feel good, hmm?"
Jisung laughs embarrassed before letting a faint moan out when your fingers pinch his nipple again, more insistently. “Not fair though, you're t-teasing."
You nod a few times as your face descends to his ear, kissing the skin behind it, where you know that acrid, powerful smell typical of Jisung accumulates. “As if you didn't have a different kind of massage in mind from the beginning. Don't lie to mama, Sungie."
Jisung shakes his head tentatively, “I wasn’t trying to imply any of that”.
You chuckle at his words, bringing your mouth to his earlobe and nibbling at it. “Now say it again without drooling over yourself, mh?”
Jisung hiccups and goes limp against you, giving you enough space to keep nosing at his neck. A little bit of saliva is bubbling out of his parted lips, forming a shiny coat on his skin and you just wanna suck it off.
“Well, maybe. M-maybe just a little,” he grunts while the tip of your tongue brushes on the shell of his ear. “You’re mean for real.”
“Don’t call me mean when I’m about to jack you off, Sungie. That’s just ungrateful, don’t you think?” you whisper on his skin, breathing the sweet smell of his body in. Even his sweat kinda smells like beer. That’s disgusting and hot at the same time. Maybe you’re a freak after all.
“Oh. Oh. We’re… we’re doing that? Fuck, yeah. Suuuure, cool.” And then he lets out the nervous squeak he does everytime you’re about to touch him. It doesn’t matter it’s been years, he never gets used to you been enough attracted to him to give him pleasure even if he’s dirty. But, to be fair, Jisung is always kind of dirty.
You smile against his skin and your fingers find his nipple again, rolling it between your pointer and thumb over the fabric of his top. Jisung keens at that and you can feel the goosebumps forming on his arms under you.
“Wanna kiss. Give Sungie kiss first? Can you? Please?” He blubbers while your other hand is caressing just above his navel. He turns his face to look at you, and the angle is weird because he needs to force himself in this position, but his cheeks are flushed and cute, and his eyes so big you can almost see your own reflection in them.
The first kiss on his lips is just a peck, nothing else, and you can feel that Jisung tries, he tries so hard not to be affected too much this early, but as soon as you place your mouth on him and start to nibble lightly at his bottom lip, he lets out a broken whimper. He tastes like alcohol and ketchup, and his teeth are all sticky for the sprite he just chugged. You find yourself forcing his mouth open just after a few seconds just to be able to lick at them, feeling the sugar on the tip of your tongue.
“You’re so filthy, Sungie. You’re delicious.” You tease him a bit while sucking his own wet muscle into your mouth and slowly pulling it between your teeth.
Jisung lets out the quietest yet painful moan, "Ah- please, I just...", and he starts parting his thighs just a little bit, the tiniest movement showing how he is growing hard under his pants.
You look down and he is just the prettiest, all spread out for you.
“Never denied you anything,” you mutter as you scoot forward on the sofa to place a last peck on his lips. They’re a bit chapped, and a drop of blood stains your mouth.
Jisung’s head falls back on your chest, nuzzling between the comfort of your breasts, and he looks wrecked already. His eyes are teary and his vision fuzzy while his lips pucker, as if he was trying to suck on the air.
“Fuck, you’re so cute. Wish you had something on your mouth, uh?” you ask him as your left hand puts and end to the lazy massage on his lower stomach and finally cups him through his pants.
Jisung is fully hard already but, to an untrained eye, the two inches tent his erection is struggling to maintain makes him look like he’s just sporting half of a chub.
“Uh, uh - yeah, w-wanna suck please,” he manages while your hands goes a bit lower to graze his balls. “Please, mama- gimme anything.”
“Oh, Sungie, don’t beg,” you whisper kissing the tender skin of his ear one more time. Jisung’s soft sobs always make you feel lightheaded and needy, but you cannot show him. Not now. “Mama’s gonna give you fingers, mhkay?”
Jisung nods and parts his lips as a pavlovian response to your words, his tongue lolling out diligently out of his mouth. Your pointer and middle finger pinch the fat of his bottom lip and he moans softly at the teasing. When you finally ease your fingers inside of the heath of his mouth, Jisung lets out a weak cry. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” he gurgles around your digits as an indecent amount of spit oozes out and coat your palm.
When you look over his shoulder, you can see the shape of Jisung’s tiny cock angrily pointing at you, still covered by his shorts. The red fabric is somehow already wet because Jisung is always eager and leaky, and what he lacks in size he makes up in liquids.
“How many minutes today, Sungie? How much can you last for mama?” you ask, tone sticky and sweet while you thrust your fingers deeper inside his mouth and brush at the base of his tongue.
Jisung chokes on the pressure and a single tear escapes from his eyes. His cock twitches and you pat it condescendingly. “Aw, poor thing. How much? Two minutes?”
“Uh- mhhf sowy” he hiccups, mouth full of fingers and saliva, “sorry, I’m not..”
You smile and you finally wrap your free hand around his balls, squeezing it. “Don’t worry, baby. Mama gets it. Wanna come already uh?”
Your face finds its way against the crook of his neck and you lick a fat portion of skin, sucking it into your mouth. He tastes like soil, dirt and sweat. But most importantly, it tastes like Jisung. Like fried food and soda, mint cigarettes to cover the smell of unwashed teeth, ingrown hair and blemishes, acne and cum.
You bite on that sensitive spot and he sobs the most pathetic whimper out as your hand slaps his clothed cock once, twice, thrice, and your fingers go deeper and deeper, almost brushing his uvula and making him drown on his own spit.
“So-oh-sorry” he cries as his cock spasms one more time under the constriction of two layers of clothes. His knees shake and he lets out the most loud and sinful noise his voice lets him. His hips tremble with the force of his orgasm and he goes completely limp against you while spurting warm ropes of cum inside of his sweaty underwear. His eyes are glassy and full of tears while he empties himself for what it seems to be a full minute. He always cums more than he lasts anyway.
You hold him close through it as his high washes over him, arm tight around his waist, and you kiss his cheek, savoring the salt on his skin.
After a minute, Jisung turns his head in search of your reassurance, and he finds you already looking at him, your fingers falling out of his mouth to let him breathe properly.
“Well, that was a record” you chuckle at the sight of his goofy smile.
Jisung huffs and rolls his eyes at you. “I said- I said I had a few beers. That’s why.” He tries to justify himself.
You wink at him and you blow a raspberry on his nose. He always try to be the bigger man, but it never works.
“Whatever you say,” you concede. “Go change your underwear now. And take a shower.”
Jisung lazily shakes his head. “Nah. Too tired. Imma do it later.”
“You’re gross, Jisung.”
“And you’re a freak.”
©️jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz imagine#stray kids imagine#skz hard thoughts#stray kids hard thoughts#skz fanfiction#stray kids fanfiction#skz x female reader#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#han smut#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung imagine#han jisung x female reader#han jisung x you#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#skz sub#sub skz#sub stray kids#stray kids sub#sub han jisung#han jisung sub
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Brother’s Best Friend- Wes Borland
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summary: you recently went through a breakup and your brother, fred durst, is forcing you to go out with him and his band mates. he has this one rule that makes you off limits, but will that rule be broken when with wes?
lowercase intended
warnings: smut & cursing
a/n: came up with a posting schedule so it’ll be easier to write 🙏 also i re read it but i swear there’s probably a couple spelling mistakes so bear with me i’m sorry
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i lay awake in bed, staring up at my ceiling in the dark. my eyes adjusted to the darkness so i saw the faint outline of the poster i had on my ceiling. just as i was drifting off to sleep, my brother swings my door open and turns on the light.
“fred, what the fuck?” i groan out, covering my eyes.
“get up.” he pulls my blanket off me, tossing it to the floor.
“can you go away? i’m not getting up.” i go into fetal position.
“y/n, you’ve been cooped up in this room for a week.”
“two weeks.” i correct him.
“doesn’t help your case.” he sits on the edge of my bed.
“come on, get up and get dressed.”
“why?”
“i’m going out with the guys and you’re coming. you need to get out and let loose.”
“why would i hang out with you and your friends, you guys will embarrass me.”
“embarrass you? we are not embarrassing.” he scoffs, standing up.
“you’re funny.” i say with a sarcastic look on my face.
fred mutters something before laying on me. he’s practically suffocating me, putting his dead weight on me.
“get the fuck off, fred! i swear.” i try to shove him off.
“i’ll get off if you go out.”
“fine! anything to get you out my room.” i cave in.
he gets up, smoothing out his shirt with a dumb smile on his face.
“perfect! we’re leaving in 30.” he pats my leg.
i take the opportunity to punch his shoulder, pay back for being annoying.
“ow, what the fuck?!”
“payback.” i stick my tongue out.
“immature.”
“says you!”
after he leaves the room, i lay back down and groan at the fact i have to go out. i could just not go but i know he’d hold it against me or something. i recently just got out of a relationship and was pretty sulky about it, fred being the one to support me. i was staying with him for a bit while i figure out a new living situation. fred suggested for me to just live with him, an opportunity i might consider.
i sit up and let out a deep breath before standing up to head towards my closet. i wasn’t looking to impress anyone tonight, so i picked out casual clothes. some baggy cargo pants fred bought me for my birthday and some band tee. i apply some light mascara and lip gloss, i gotta at least look presentable i guess. i clip on my earrings and necklace before deciding that i was done, deodorant and sprits of perfume to confirm. i couldn’t find my shoes, searching all around my room for them. i sigh in frustration and head to ask fred about them.
“fred, have you seen my converse? i swore i left them in my room-“ i cut myself off once i enter the living room.
there he sat with his band mates, beers in hand.
“hey y/n!” john greeted me.
“hey. uh, sorry for intruding but have you?” i look at fred.
i gulp out of nervousness as i feel a certain band member’s eyes on me. wes borland. when i first met him, i’ve always thought he was really cute but i never acted upon it. i was fred’s younger sister (only by two years) so i was basically ‘off limits’. but i’ll be lying if i said i never imagined being with wes.
“you left them out the other day, so i put them in the closet.”
“alright, thanks. and i’m basically ready, by the way.”
“you’re wearing that?”
“uh, yeah? what else would i wear.”
“i dunno, something to catch guys’ eyes.”
“gross, fred. i don’t want to meet anyone tonight.” i go to the closet, opening it to see my shoes.
“she looks good, fred. and shouldn’t you be against anyone messing with your little sister.” leor, or lethal as they call him, defends me.
“so is your sister now on limits?” sam jokes.
i took that as my cue to leave, avoiding any further conversation. i slip my shoes on in the hallway as i hear fred tell them off.
“okay boys, let’s go. i want this night to be over with quickly.” i round them up.
they all form a line as they exit fred’s apartment.
“i think you look nice.” wes whispers in my ear.
shivers were sent down my spine, a moan creeping up my throat. i luckily caught myself before any sound left my lips. i turn around to look at him, a smile on my face.
“thanks, wes.”
“no problem.” he winks at me.
my knees nearly gave out. he’s killing me.
after finally convincing them to let me drive since they were already drinking, we arrived at the club. i mentally prepare myself to be in a crowd full of sweaty bodies, something i didn’t want for a thursday night.
“okay, you stay by any of us for the rest of the night. i don’t want any creeps touching you.” fred tells me in a strict voice, pointing finger pointed at me the whole time.
“i thought you wanted me to get out there?” i joke, a smirk forming on my lips.
“fuck you.”
after showing the bouncer our ids, we enter the loud and humid club. fred was leading us towards the bar, ordering shots for us. i grab the tiny glass and take a deep breath before taking it. once i swallow, i cough a bit at the feeling.
“WOOO, LETS GET FUCKED UP!!” fred shouts, already being embarrassing.
i stayed in the back of the group, kinda 6th wheeling as the guys downed shots and chatted.
“you okay?” wes asks, bumping my arm to catch my attention.
“huh? oh yeah, i’m fine. i’m just feeling like a bit of a 6th wheel, you know.” i chuckle.
“wanna go somewhere to chat? haven’t talked to you in a while, stinker.” he playfully ruffled my hair.
stinker was some stupid nickname he gave me. for what reason? i don’t know. and do i hate it? no, actually. i look at fred, watching as he laughed his stupid laugh before chugging a beer.
“yeah, i’m fine with that.”
wes looks back at the group, making sure they don’t see us leave. his big hand takes mine as he leads us to the back of the club and to a tiny booth. it was dark and a bit quiet in the corner, something i was very comfortable with.
“so, how have you been? fred kinda told me what happened. i’m sorry.” he immediately gets into that.
“i’ve been doing better. obviously not 100% perfect but better, you know?” i sip the beer in my hand.
“i understand. i’m glad you’re better, you’re always cheerful so seeing you sad was off putting.”
“fred has been trying forever to get me out the house and i guess he finally succeeded.” i shake my head as the memory of what happened earlier played in my mind.
“if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you looking for someone tonight?”
“oh, i just uh-i’m just not in the mood. i have no energy left for a relationship. energy to talk to people and start one up, i should actually say.”
“so you’d rather be around people you know? or be with people you know?” he eyes me, waiting for an answer.
“uh, yeah i guess. easier than starting new.” i sip my beer again.
wes and i chatted for 30 more minutes, occasionally leaving to get more beers. we were about 5 beers in, very clearly tipsy and slightly drunk. we scooted closer to one another in the booth, his body heat radiating off and onto me.
“is living with fred any fun?”
“fuck no. he’s a dick most of the time and annoying. but i love him so much cause he’s my brother.”
“unfortunate that he’s your brother.”
“why’s that?” i take a fat gulp of my 6th beer.
“cause you’re really pretty.” he confesses.
my cheeks heat up, a smile forming on my face.
“get outta here.” i jokingly shove him away.
“i’m serious. you’re so pretty that i wanna kiss you.”
“then kiss me.”
he stared at me, faces so close that i smelt the alcohol from his breath. after a couple of glances at my lips, he finally moved in to kiss me. the coldness of his lip ring caused me to gasp, his tongue taking the opportunity to slip into my mouth. my hands flew to his face, pushing his closer to me. our tongues danced with one another, the taste of beer on my tastebuds. his hands went to my hips, grabbing me to move me onto his lap. i ran my fingers through his hair, practically massaging his scalp. one of his hands rested against my thigh, occasionally squeezing it. i moan into his mouth, unconsciously grinding on him. it was his turn to moan into my mouth, his hands tightly gripping me.
“wes, there you are man! we’ve been lookin for you.” i hear fred’s voice call out.
we quickly pull apart and before i was able to get off of wes, he shoved my head to the side of his. i was confused but i stayed there, resting my chin on his shoulder as i faced the wall.
“hey man, what’s up?” wes asks, nervousness in his voice.
“i can’t find y/n, have you seen her?” his words slurring.
“uh, no man i haven’t. i’m sure she’s around, she probably met a guy.”
“okay, probably did..hey are you getting some right now?” fred laughs.
“yeah man, what a way to cockblock.”
“oh shit, my bad dude. i’ll be out of your guys’ hair.” i felt fred pat wes’ shoulder.
“is he gone?”
“i think so.”
“was he really that drunk to not know it’s me?” i laugh.
“mmm, guess so. but i’m glad he didn’t, he would’ve kicked my ass.”
“kissing isn’t that bad.”
“yeah but sleeping with his sister is.”
“sleeping with me? mmm, very bold mister.” i toy with his bottom lip before kissing him.
“let’s take this somewhere else.” he mumbles against my lips.
i smirk as i pull away, knowing a spot. i pull out the car keys, jingling them in front of his face. we rush out the club, hopefully unnoticed by the rest of the band. we laugh as we run to the car, quickly unlocking it and shoving ourselves inside.
luckily i parked in the way corner where it was dark but the windows were tinted anyways. we didn’t hesitate to kiss again, sitting on his lap once again. he grabbed onto my hips, moving them to grind against his now hard dick. i move my hand to the back of his neck, pushing him deeper in the kiss. one of his hands traveled higher up my body, resting on one of my boobs. he slowly began to massage it, a spark igniting in my stomach. the air in the car immediately got hot, windows fogging up already.
“fuck, lay down.” he groaned.
i get off him, awkwardly laying down. i thought he’d get on top but instead he awkwardly tried to go down on me.
“wes, you’re too fucking tall.” i giggle.
“fuck. sit up, i have an idea.”
i obey his words and sit up. i watch as he adjusts the driver and passenger seats to where they were all the way up. he then goes to his knees on the floor with all the new space. he unbuttons my jeans and i lift my hips up so he was able to shimmy them off. the cold air hits my wet underwear causing my legs to close shut due to reflex.
“tsk, tsk, tsk. gotta have them open, baby.”
he used his hands and pried them open, becoming face to face to what he caused. his pupils dilated as he stares at the wet spot, tongue darting out to wet his lips. his long fingers dance up my thigh, toying with the hem of my underwear. he then slowly pulled them down, teasing me. i sat there trying to be patient but my mind was exploding.
“fuck come on wes.” i beg.
he stared up at me and smirked, removing my underwear with one smooth pull. i gasp out at the air and bare contact with the seat. wes didn’t play around anymore and he went to run a finger through my slit, spreading my wetness. he brought his hand back to his face, placing his finger into his mouth. he moaned around his fingers, the taste of me coating his tastebuds.
“so fucking good…”
i squirm and moan out at the sensual sight, needing him more than ever. he returned his fingers, this time sliding them inside me. he slowly pumped them, letting me adjust before he started to go faster. he curled them, attempting to find that one spot. i gripped the edge of the seat, head thrown back as i moan out. i sat there as he fingered me, my juices most definitely getting all over the seat.
he suddenly stopped, a disappointing sound coming from my mouth. before i could say anything, i felt his plump lips against me. i gasped out in surprise, hand flying to his head. i had a hold on his hair, gripping it as he ate me out. the feeling of his tongue lapping at me was too much for me to handle, my head spinning like crazy. i squeezed my eyes shut and whined out, pushing his head closer. to add to the craziness, he brought his hand back to rub my clit. that sent me over the edge, suddenly feeling the spring in my stomach tighten to its max.
“wes…i-“ i cut myself off with a moan.
he hummed against me, signaling me to go ahead and cum. the vibrations from his hum sent me, arching my back as i came all over his face. i rode his face, breathing heavily as i pulled him away. i looked down at his face, his mouth and chin covered in my juices.
“so delicious. wish i tasted you earlier..” he wiped some of me off his chin to suck it up.
i grab his face and guide him back up to me. i lay us down comfortably, wes hovering over me.
“take off your pants, borland.”
“yes ma’am..”
he was quick to unbutton them, shoving them down his legs and to his ankles.
“wait, we need protection.” i stop him from removing his boxers.
“fuck, i don’t have any.”
“check the glove box.”
he gets off me and clumsily reaches over to the glovebox, popping it open. he searched through papers and napkins before getting ahold of a box.
“i think these are bit small but they should fit.” he shows me the box of condoms.
“if they work then they work.” i shrug.
he rips them open, eager to fuck me already. he takes out a condom, throwing the box to the floor with no care.
he quickly sits back down, pulling down his boxers to expose his erect dick. my stomach did flips at the sight of him, wondering if he’d fit. he uses his teeth to rip open the foil, taking out the condom then spitting the wrapper to the floor. he carefully rolls the condom on, trying not to rip it. it was a snug fit, not too tight to where it’d break because if it did then fred would definitely kill him if i end up pregnant. wes made sure it on fully before climbing on top of me again, pressing a kiss to my lips.
“this tops needs to go.” he tugs at my shirt.
“if you want to see my boobs then say so.” i joke.
“i want to see your boobs.” he says seriously.
i struggle to take off my shirt but eventually manage, leaving me only in a bra. i was about to unclip my bra to be fully nude but wes just pulls my bra down, letting my boobs spill out. i shriek out at the suddenness.
“if i had to remove my shirt then you do too, wes.”
he pulled off his shirt easily, throwing it in the front seat quickly so he could return to my boobs. he dipped his head down to kiss my chest, nipping at my skin. as he did that, he grabbed his dick and rubbed himself against my folds, preparing me for him. he then slowly slid in, stretching me out in ways i didn’t think was possible. i grab onto his shoulders, squeezing them as he inserted himself further. once he was fully in, he waited for me to adjust to him. i nodded when i decided it was okay for him to move. he slowly started to thrust, the adrenaline in my veins flowing at a million miles per hour. i get fed up at his slow pace, needing more from him.
“faster…” i whine out.
he pulls away from my chest to look up at me as he started to thrust faster. he watched my face as i moan out his name, his own stomach doing flips. he knows he’s breaking the one rule the band was given by fred but he can’t help it, he just needs me. he hungrily kisses me, nibbling on my bottom lip like he was starving. his mind became foggy from the alcohol (and the fact that he was inside of me) causing him to start thrust harder. i cry out against his mouth as he immediately finds that one spot. it made my body numb, my senses all heightened as he kept hitting it. i dug my nails into his shoulders, probably drawing blood.
our bodies became slicked with sweat due to the humid car air, windows fogged the fuck up. he classically places his hand onto the window, leaving an iconic hand print. he held himself like that as he even went faster than before, making me swear i saw stars. the car rocked with his thrusts, very obviously indicating that we were having sex. my knees buckled when i felt that familiar spring in my stomach, a breathless moan escaping my mouth and into his. he felt me clench around him, adding dizziness to his foggy mind. he felt like an animal with how hard he was thrusting, wanting to go even harder and faster. he pulled away from my lips and went back to my chest, this time paying attention to my boobs. he didn’t hesitate to suck on them, teeth lightly nipping them. i was inching closer and closer to my orgasm, muscles tensing with every second.
“wes..i’m about to-“
“do it for me, baby. come all over me.” he stared up at me.
i tried to hold eye contact with him but failed as i finally let go. i clenched around him, my walls stuttering as i released all over him. i throw my head back and moan out, his name occasionally coming out my mouth. the feeling of me cumming all over him, clenching onto him pushed him to his own orgasm. he groaned out and came into the condom, hips stuttering as he did. his muscles were flexed as he came, showing off his abs and whatnot. once he was done cumming, he slowed down his movements before completely stopping.
“fuck..” he breathed out.
“that was-“
“fucking amazing.” he finished my sentence.
he pulled out of me, sitting up and collapsing against the seat. i follow suit and sit up, sluggishly sitting against the seat.
“i don’t even wanna get dressed.” he groans out.
“me neither but we gotta before the guys decide they’re done.”
“damn, you’re right. here let me get something to clean you up.” he reaches over to the glovebox to grab the napkins.
he cleans me up and the seat as well, trying to erase any sign that anyone fucked in here. wes and i grabbed all our clothes and put them on, looking in the mirrors to straighten ourselves out.
“i’m gonna be right back, i need to throw this away.” he says, indicating to the condom he’s holding.
i nod as he opens the door, leaving it open to get the fresh air circulating inside. i drop my head back and sigh out as the fresh air hit my skin, cooling me down instantly. suddenly, a hand slapping against the window causes me to scream out.
“why are you screaming, sis! it’s me!” fred laughs out once he opens the door.
“fuck off, fred.” i grumble, the alcohol still in my system a bit.
“woah, it’s hot as fuck in here!” sam shouts out.
“i’ve been looking all over for you! where’d you go?!” fred climbs into the backseat.
“she was talking with some girls in the club. i found her outside throwing up so i brought her here.” wes spoke out, returning from the garbage.
“wes, my man! how was that chick, was she good?”
“i’d rather not say.” wes says uncomfortably, not wanting to explain how i was to fred.
“whatever man.” he thankfully let the topic go.
john gets in the front seat to drive us home, the least drunk out of the whole group.
“why the fuck are the seats all the way up?” he complains.
“wes definitely got some!” lethal laughs out, picking up the opened condom box.
“hey! those were new!” sam cries out.
wes gets inside the car, making me stuck between him and fred until sam then shoved himself in the back causing me to sit on top wes’ lap. he held onto my hips as john drove back to fred’s apartment. as he hit potholes i bounced up and down accidentally, making wes get hard again. i giggle to myself as i felt him against my ass.
“again?” i whisper to him.
“i can’t help it.” he whispers back.
“y/n are those hickies?” sam points out.
i furrow my eyebrows and check the mirror again, seeing my neck slightly littered in hickies. i swore i checked and saw absolutely none.
“hey! i hope no guy messed with you! anyone who messes with my sister will die. especially one of you guys.” fred slurs, pointing to all the guys.
“i’m a deadman.” wes whispers.
“yes you are.”
#wes borland#wes borland smut#limp bizkit#limp bizkit smut#fred durst#fred durst smut#dj lethal#john otto#sam rivers#90s#90s smut#90s nu metal#nu metal#2000s#2000s smut#2000s nu metal
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I had a crazy idea; What if Livewire ended up becoming a Spidey rogue instead of a Superman one, and as the result of one of Peter's experiments at S.T.A.R Labs going wrong? Get a little bit of that Spectacular Spider-Man style Electro origin, but still largely keeping that "Jerk turned Supervillain by complete happenstance" origin inherent to most interpretations of her character?
Honestly, just how many DC villains and villainesses could reasonably work as Rogue transplants, assuming we don't also decide to transplant some of his more iconic villains as well? I feel like plenty of Flash rogues fit his vibes, but at the same time, I feel like he can also handle some considerably grittier DC villains.
On the flipside, who among Spidey's own Rogues from Marvel would make for decent antagonists for what DC heroes?
Sorry this has languished in my inbox for so long!!!
I mean like, at the end of the day, the big differences between Marvel and DC in terms of the development of their rogues and their respective relationships to their heroes lies in that whole, "DC started before WWII and that heavily influenced its heroes and Marvel wasn't really major competition until the Lee-Kirby double whammy in the 60's" timeline thing I've mentioned in other asks. But like, as both of their continuities have been done and re-done, and as both publishers have swapped artists and writers over the years (Hi, Jack Kirby, Hi, Walt Simonson, Hi, Ram V) you've had like... less and less of an... I guess ideological/narrative gap between the two titles? I mean in theory you could slap any villain with any hero with the right writer. Heroes always represent an aspect of ourselves we want to root for and villains represent an aspect of ourselves we want to confront and conquer--once you figure out those core mechanics of the characters and adjust them accordingly to a narrative logic, you can do anything. It's like cooking, really.
That being said, like, Flash villains definitely come to mind in terms of both their campiness and how they've managed to scale up both their threat level and their humanity over the years.
Piper and Trickster: *bickering that is midway between buddy cop-but-evil and old married couple*
Spider-Man: I can come back later. Do you want me to come back later?
But I also like the Steel Family monsters of the Week for Spidey a lot, too. They're often very tech-y and very involved with whatever sciencey nonsense the Irons family is digging into that week. There was this one comic issue, I forget which one, where Natasha was fighting physical manifestations of AI mimicking internet trolls, and that just seems like something delightful for Spidey to deal with.
...I'd like to see Wonder Woman fight Doctor Doom--I dunno if that seems random, but just on a vibes level that really works for me.
As for Spidey's rogues--I mean I'm going to be honest, I've never been very impressed/attached to most of Spidey's rogues--I have a soft spot for Green Goblin, but that's because I was 10 when the first Tobey Maguire Spider-Man came out. That being said, Spidey's rogues gallery could be a great recurring villain cast for the Teen Titans. I feel like the Teen Titans often get too much space to be smartasses with their villains--there is a certain narrative scrappiness to Spider-Man villains that could work out really well--if they make the threat environmental as well as villainous. I mean like, "Raven, you don't have time to psychically lobotomize this guy, you gotta quell the crowd so people don't get trampled" sort of stuff. Scale up the environmental threat of Spidey's villains and you could have some really spectacular Teen Titans group fights.
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Prompt: Hambone and Douglass try several things to set up Brady with Croz.
Douglass is sitting on his rack and writing a letters to his parents when the barracks' door flies open and Hambone announces, "Fucking failed again."
"Oh, come on!" Douglass shouts and immediately puts the letter to one side to dig into his side table for The List. "That's seven! How could fail seven times?"
"Dunno," Hambone says, then drops down hard on Douglass's rack. He swings his legs up and leans against Douglass's pillow so he can see The List. "But apparently setting up a romantic picnic for two isn't romantic when you're surrounded by bees."
"Bees are very romantic," Douglass says. "They pollinate. That's like fucking."
"Brady's allergic," Hambone replies.
"Aw, shit. I didn't know that." Douglass looks at item number 7 on The List: romantic picnic then crosses it out and adds a notation over it: Bees bad.
Hambone slips an arm around Douglass's waist and lays his head on Douglass's shoulder. "What's next?"
"Locking them in a closet, but I don't know where we'd find one that isn't full of shit they'd run into."
"Yeah, after trying to send them on a bike ride alone, I don't trust Brady to do anything that might require grace or athletic ability."
Douglass sighs and crossed out Lock in a closet. "Is it weird that it feels like Harry should be the clumsy one of the two of them? Like, if you had to look at them and guess, you'd guess Harry was the klutz, right?"
"Oh, absolutely," Hambone agrees.
"He's a man of mystery," Douglass says, then looks at The List again. "Okay, next option is jealousy, which we agreed was not something either of us wanted to use if we absolutely didn't have to."
"Harry seems like a biter," Hambone says. "And Brady wouldn't lay a finger on anyone, but I worry what gossip would suddenly get spread."
"He's entirely too good at gossip," Douglass says. "No one sat with Layton for two weeks after Brady convinced everyone he had that new kind of clap you could pass through skin contact."
"Layton called Harry a coward to Brady's face. He should count his blessings he's still breathing."
"I just don't understand it," Douglass says, setting The List to one side and adjusting himself so he and Hambone are pressed front to front with their foreheads touching. "How can Brady be that protective and always hover like he does but not make a move? It's not like he's shy, and if Harry wasn't interested, he'd say no."
Hambone shrugs and slips a leg over Douglass's hip. It's mid-afternoon. They'll have a little time to cuddle close before anyone comes looking for them. "And if Harry didn't believe him, Brady'd make sure he did," he adds. He shifts his chin so Douglass will kiss him. "Come on, take a nap with me. We'll try the jealousy angle tonight. Curt owes me a favor."
Douglass snorts. "Curt would play bait for the laugh; don't lose a favor."
Hambone chuckles and steals a second kiss. "Good point."
*
Brady and Harry are behind the control tower talking just as the sun starts to set. Curt walks up to them, beaming from ear-to-ear.
"Fellas, I am thrilled to inform you that Hammy and Doug have gotten so desperate, I've been called up from the minors to play my part in getting you together."
Harry laughs. "Oh, yeah, what's the latest plan?"
"I am to flirt with the man of my choosing until the other guy gives up and confesses his affections." Curt claps his hands together. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
"What's the betting pool up to?" Brady asks.
"Couple hundred bucks, give or take," Curt says. "Buck's taking cash only for this round. Says he's tired of holding onto watches and rings while we wait for them to figure out you've been together for weeks."
"It's sweet how much they want it to happen," Harry says.
"We don't all neck like teenagers," Brady adds, which makes all three of them laugh.
"I don't know which of you is going up against my charms yet. I'll decide later. But know that I won't say no to a little necking."
Harry and Bardy both laugh. Curt waggles his eyebrows and saunters away, whistling.
"If he kisses you, I may have to break and stake a claim," Brady says to Harry a moment later.
"What if I kiss him first?" Harry asks.
Brady rubs his thumb on Harry's jaw and gives him a hot look. "Well, then I might just drag you out back like a caveman."
"That's not really a deterrent," Harry replies, and Brady's kiss tastes like a promise and a dare. "Too bad about the bees," he says when Brady pulls away. "I would have definitely given myself away if it had lasted more than ten minutes."
"Hey, I've got a blanket and a sandwich and a perfectly good fort, we could just have that picnic now."
"Sounds good to me."
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BillDip promt:first date
Ahh an excuse to write fluff, yes >:3c
The last thing Dipper had expected when he was asked out by a handsome, seemingly normal guy on a dating app, was to end up gripping the passenger seat of a fancy sports car while his date stared down an empty parking lot.
"Don't you dare," Dipper laughed, gripping the seat tighter. "You just took me out to that nice restaurant and fed me all that pasta, and I don't think either of us want to see it again. Especially since this time it’ll be all over your dashboard."
Bill's intense gaze shifted from the pavement to Dipper, a large, smarmy grin on his face. "You saw how good of a driver I was when I got us from your place to the restaurant in that funky traffic jam. We made it on time for our reservation, didn't hit anyone or anything, and I didn't get pulled over!"
Dipper rolled his eyes, still smiling. During the two weeks that he and Bill spoke over messages, the blond had mentioned that he enjoyed doing things that, “got the heart pumping”. But Dipper had always thought that had been some sort of sexual joke, not that he actually wanted to fling his car around at high speeds the second they drove by an empty lot.
“How about we do a few donuts, then we park and give my poor stomach a chance to catch up with the night?” He leaned back in his seat, preparing himself for the ride. “I think I can handle at least a few.” Their night had been going well enough that Dipper would feel bad if he shut down Bill’s fun too quickly, so he didn’t mind putting up with more of the blond’s shenanigans.
Bill lit up, his baby blue eyes twinkling from the dim glow of his headlights. “Sounds good to me, Pine Tree!” He revved the engine a couple of times before shifting the car into gear and slamming his foot down on the gas.
The tires screeched as they whirled around the lamp posts and empty parking spots. The two of them got thrown around a bit with each turn, though both could be heard laughing over the sound of the rubber on pavement.
Thankfully, Bill stuck to only doing a few and came to an abrupt stop once they had made their mark on the lot.
“Bet you’ve never had a date end with something that exciting, huh?”
Dipper looked at Bill, a large smile on his face. “I dunno, one guy took me to see a movie then took me to a grocery store ‘cause he needed something and didn’t want to go back out again after dropping me off. So I guess you could say this is a close second.”
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” The blond put his car into park, then adjusted the seat so that it was lying all the way back. “Then I’ll just have to one-up him and take a nap right here and now so that I don’t have to sleep after dropping you off.”
As soon as Bill closed his eyes and pretended to fake snore, Dipper burst out laughing and nudged the blond’s arm. “As much as I like your commitment to making this a super fun date, I think it’s about time I let my poor stomach lie down.”
“Your poor stomach, huh?” Bill got up and laid himself over Dipper, reaching for the latch to lay his seat down at well.
It popped into place too suddenly for Dipper to keep up with, he and Bill both falling backwards in an awkward position, Bill right on his stomach.
“Fuck, sorry,” he laughed. “Didn’t mean to come onto you that hard, but hey, you’re laying down now! Your poor stomach can rest easy in my car.”
“Not with you on top of it,” Dipper grunted. He gave the blond a playful shove, not actually trying to get him off. “Maybe if we carefully get back to my place before it gets too late, we can both… I dunno, maybe let our stomachs settle together on my couch with something playing on the TV?” Pink filled his cheeks because he knew that sounded a lot like he was inviting Bill over to get laid. And he sort of was. If one thing led to another, then who was he to deny the flow of the date?
Bill sprung up and had his seat back to normal in no time, his hand on the gearshift. “I’m about to be the carefullest- No wait, the most careful? Whatever, we’re about to be so fucking safe but fast, so buckle up.”
“I never unbuckled, so I’m ready,” Dipper snorted, adjusting his seat so that he could sit up. The car moved again, this time at a much better speed, and Dipper couldn’t help but smile over at his date. It was no trip to the grocery store, but he had a feeling he and Bill would have plenty of other outings that would more than make up for it.
#Billdip#bill cipher#dipper pines#drabbles#my writing#sorry it's taking me a while to get to these#life has been so insane lol#but I have been dying to get to the billdip fluff#so I'm glad I could finally put it out! <3
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don’t leave | matt sturniolo !
kinda?? inspired by sex- the 1975
cw: angst, fluff, cheating?, language, use of y/n
a/n: dunno if i even like this LMFAO
unedited
lowercase intended.
• • •
“shit, matt!” you laugh. “you almost had 5 stars.” you continue to chuckle, looking over at the boy as you toss the xbox controller on his bed.
it was a gloomy day, the sound of cars driving down the slick street as it sprinkled rain, comforting you. you and matt had been playing gta 5 for a couple of hours in his bedroom. spending quality time with him always made you feel at ease, especially after such a rough week.
you grabbed your phone that was face down on the tussled over silk sheets, noticing you had several missed calls and texts from your boyfriend.
“you wanna go again?” matt offers, holding the controller up to you, gaining your attention. you hesitate, looking up at him. “ah, gimme one sec,” you say, lazily throwing your pointer finger up.
letting out a small sigh, you continue to check your text messages— your mood dropping, taking the atmosphere along with it. it was nothing new— same shit different day with this guy you have the honor of calling your boyfriend. you had no clue why you were still with him and you were trapped in a vicious cycle. the constant arguing, going through each other’s phone, makeup, breakup bullshit just for it to always end with you shamefully fucking matt after calling him, crying.
“hey, what’s wrong?” matt asks, a confused yet concerned expression falling upon his features. he moves closer to you, attempting to look at your phone and see what’s got you so down, but you quickly swipe your messages tab away.
“nothing, it’s just luke..” you start, rolling your eyes. “he wants me to come over.”
matt lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head.
“he sucks,” he mumbles, grabbing his xbox controller and starting another game.
“tell me about it,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue. standing up, you adjust yourself and reach to grab your keys.
“wait, what are you doing?” matt asks, dropping the controller to his lap, his mouth slightly agape with confusion.
“i’m gonna head that way, i guess,” you shrug, now grabbing your tote bag. your heart starts to sink as an overwhelming feeling of shame washes over you. the way matt’s staring at you — if looks could kill, you’d be dead.
“you are fucking joking, y/n,” he says, slightly shaking his head in annoyance.
“matt, please not now,” you try to reason with the boy, throwing your head back. you didn’t wanna argue. matt shifts his body towards you, still sat on the edge of the bed.
“what the fuck is the point? i don’t understand..” he throws his hands—palms up, questioningly. “yo-you said you were done with hi- y/n we literally fucked last week!” he raises his voice, his eyes getting smaller— looking at you as if you were nuts.
truth is, you did feel horrible about it. you knew you were wrong, so much so you could hardly look matt in the eyes.
“you can’t even look at me. you know this is ridiculous,” he spat, reading your mind. you stood still, absolutely speechless as your chest began to fill with panic.
“can you please say something?” he trails off. “why do you keep fucking with me like this?” his voice cracks, turning away and closing his eyes to ground himself.
“matt, why do you care so much?“ you ask, your chest stressfully and slowly heaving up and down. “we aren’t even together.” he snaps his head in your direction, his blue eyes meeting yours.
“ah, so i’m just a quick fuck. alright, i get it,” he snaps, giving a cocky nod, lips pressed together.
“alright, this shit’s stupid, matt. you’re so mad at me and for what?” you ask, throwing your hands up by your side, anger beginning to rush through your veins. matt stands up, taking a step over to you.
“oh, it’s stupid?” he asks in a snarky tone. all you can do is nod— the amount of stress you feel is overwhelming at this point. “tell me you like him more than me,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets he looks up at the ceiling only to look right back at you. “go head, princess. say it with your chest,” he gives a small shrug— stood, waiting.
all you wanted to do right now was disappear. it’s not like you weren’t able to just walk right out of his door— but you felt like you couldn’t move. your feet were glued to the floor as heat rushed over your body, your cheeks flushed and ears hot from embarrassment. and why were you so conflicted? all you had to do was-
“open your eyes, y/n..” he trailed off. “open your fucking eyes. you really can’t see i’m a sucker for you?” the boy asks, moving his face closer to yours.
“what?” you reply, bewildered, barely above a whisper. matt looks to the side in annoyance before taking a step even closer towards you. with each step your heart began to race faster, your face tingling.
“he takes care of you?” matt asks. gulping, you give a slow, hesitant nod. looking you straight in the eyes, matt mimics your nod with a sarcastic smile— taunting you. “yeaahhh? aww,” he laughs dryly at you, before dropping the fake smile.
“ah, he fucks you better than i do, huh?” matt taunts, his mouth slightly parted as he slowly shakes his head, his eyes not leaving yours. with a cocky shrug, he furthers the distance between your faces— standing back up normally.
“well..” he starts, shoving his hands in his pocket. “go have fun with luke. make sure you tell him you’re bouncing on my dick every week and see how much he cares about you then,” he says, nonchalantly. his words, dripping venom— hit you like a brick. you can’t even blame him anymore because what’s even worse is that you knew he was right.
awkward silence ensues as matt is staring you down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, he looks at you with regret. looking down at the ground in an attempt to avoid eye contact, your eyes began to well up with tears in which you refused to let fall. seconds later, you feel matt’s cold hands gently grabbing the sides of your face— essentially forcing you to look at him. he examines your features with a softened expression, softly grazing his thumb along your flushed cheeks.
“c’mon princess, stay..” he trails off, tucking your hair behind your ears as you look up at him with glistening eyes. “didn’t mean to make you upset…mess up your mascara. m’sorry baby,” he apologizes, his voice low and soft. you awkwardly shift your eyes to the side before looking back up at him.
“i’m sorry, too,” you whisper, twiddling with your thumbs. matt turns to sit back on the edge of the bed, you following behind him. he looks up at you, lazily patting his lap, signaling for you to sit down. straddling him, you rest your head on the soft fabric of his hoodie— the smell of bourbon cologne filling your nose as his hands rest on your waist. matt felt like home.
gently grabbing you by your hair he pulls your face to meet his before planting a soft kiss on your lips, his hands dropping to caress your sides. you melt into his kiss before pulling away and softly pecking him on the cheek. he gives you a slight grin, looking at you with adoration.
“all mine, i don’t care,” he mumbles under his breath, before reciprocating the kiss to your cheek.
• • •
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“Oh, no, it’s fine! He uh, he actually only said a month and a half at first, but y’know.” She shrugged. “It’s a big favor, at least in my eyes, and I’ve come to actually like working in the forge, except for how hot it is, that I’ll never enjoy.”
Her eyebrow raised and she spoke with uncertainty. “Really? Tomorrow night? That soon? I mean, yeah of course, I’m just surprised you’re free.” A mischievous glint made its way to her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do it that soon? You’re probably gonna need some time to prepare, you know…”
“Well, no duh, Mom told you that regular sleep would basically get thrown out the window, didn’t she? And hey, I don’t mean to be rude, but I can tell that she’s keeping you up at night. Those eye bags could be seen from the other side of the island, for Thors sake.”
Her eyes shot wide, and she held a hand out to stop him. “Woah, woah, woah, Spitelout?! The guy who literally tried to kill me? The guy who is probably the worst person to ever set foot on this island? Him? He cracked a smile? What?!” She shook her head. “You know what? Thanks for the info, now I just have to go wipe that smile off his face.”
She shrugged lightly. “Nah, I don’t think it matters either way, even if she wasn’t your baby, she’d still be adorable.”
She chuckled. “Eh, you gotta start ‘em young, get her used to the never ending attention that she’s probably getting. She’ll be tired for a while, but I can say from experience.” She placed a hand on her chest. “She’ll get used to it,” she said, her voice playful and sarcastic as ever.
She smirked. “Well that’s good, because I was planning on tagging along anyways.” Sighing, she nodded before continuing, “Yeah, I know, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss spending time with you. And it’s like, I’m obviously not expecting to see you every second of every day, that would be weird, and I would go crazy, you know I can only tolerate your honking goose voice for so long, its just… I dunno, you have a family now, I get that, Zephyr’s amazing, and you and Astrid are busy with her, and I’m not trying to push myself into everything, again, that would be weird, and I have my own things I need to push myself into.” She let out a breathy chuckle. “I… it just feels like these past couple of months, we’ve barely spent any real time together… I, I’m sorry, I know it sounds selfish, but it’s just how I feel, I guess.”
"It won't be so bad in the winter, at least. Grump hasn't been giving you any trouble, has he?" He was mainly asking as a joke, knowing full well the Hotburple loved Danny.
Shaking his head, he grinned mischievously. "No, no, we can't wait too long, otherwise we might forget! No, the sooner the better! Besides, Astrid mentioned having you come by again soon, just to visit."
Running a hand through his hair, he asked, "Really? Is it that bad?" Forgetting Toothless wasn't with him, he went to turn to his friend. "Bud? You--oh, right." He shrugged. "I'll have to find some time to get a little extra rest, if I look as bad as you say, Gothi might whack me upside the head for not taking care of myself again."
"No need! I sent him off island to check on the tribes storehouse. He'll be gone for a week, I think. Snotlout went with him."
Laughing, he asked, "Oh, will she? You really think so?" Wrapping his arms around Zephyr, he gave a small nod. "She'll be taking on the role of Chieftess when she's old enough, so I'll have her with me a lot when I work, I think."
As they walked, his face fell hearing Danny's words.
Although, his expression briefly changed to mild offense when she said 'honking goose voice'.
"No, you're right. I've been a little busier than usual...things have changed a lot, haven't they?" Nodding, he continued. "I've missed spending time with you, too... and while I do have Astrid and Zephyr now, I'm still your brother, and I'm still here for you if you ever need me. Astrid and I are still adjusting to having Zephyr, so in the meantime, why don't we do this? Why don't all the Haddocks get together and have dinner, as a family, once or twice a week? As a start? And then, once Astrid is cleared for her normal activities again, we can spend some brother/sister time together when we can? Whatever you choose to do, but within reason."
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182 Days of TPN - Day 98
Chapter 98: “Starting Sound”
I like how the first couple pages fake us out by thinking the enemy is about to attack Emma & everyone else when they actually end up raiding an dummy shelter. Very thankful to James for setting up so many empty ones because this keeps Peter’s men occupied for almost two years trying to find the right one.
Y’all know you can sleep in a bit longer since you’re not bound by the GF schedule anymore, right?? Old habits die hard I guess.
Props to Ray, Pepe and whomever else normally helps in the kitchen because that is definitely a lot of mouths to feed all at one time. Also love how intermingled the tables are between GF & GP children, like it doesn’t matter where they came from, they’re all one big family.
I adore seeing them adjust to the shelter life and all the different tasks the kids take on. I’m mighty fond of seeing Oliver wear the shelter jacket & turtleneck as well! Wish we got to see that look on him more often, same with Nigel without his usual hat. But there’s no way Paula could still be recovering a month and a half later! Hell, she’s shown sitting at the tables during breakfast just fine! Ahh whatever, still cute that Zack continues to check up on her. GP trio owns a special place in my heart.
With Dominic learning how to hunt from Yuugo, I guess it isn’t totally farfetched that season two had him pick up archery so quickly. I do remember that Rossi learns morse code eventually, but I was unaware he tries to learn some medical stuff alongside Theo? At least, I’m assuming that’s what going on considering Anna & Zack are there too.
Ah.. back during ch92 I wondered why the GF kids never picked up on Adam reciting Norman’s number when they returned to the shelter, but I guess the big guy just switched it up and started repeating Emma’s ID nonstop instead. Makes sense as to why Violet seems a bit confused about it, not because she doesn’t remember Emma’s number but if that’s the same number Adam was saying the whole time back at GP.
I haven’t looked for fics in a hot minute, but I remember there were always tons about RE in the shelter library and not enough (or any) about the secret room and I gotta wonder why. Clearly they’re down below often enough during the past seven days if that GV kid knows where they are.
Well, Sonya’s correct about the first part since it’s revealed earlier this chapter that Peter killed off a handful of supporters back in 2031. Also, love how one of the tiny, surprised faces kinda looks like the drawing Shirai typical uses.
Still a more complex way to locate the secret room than how season two had it be “hidden” behind a simple, very noticable door labeled “pen.”
I despise this man so damn much.. absolutely hate him and his stupid fingers tapping away endlessly. I still dunno if this is just a random thing he does or if it’s actually morse. Can’t confirm it with season two either since the anime did one thing right and cut him out.
Speaking of morse code, I love how Emma quickly hands the phone over to Ray once she recognizes it. Sure she’s skilled enough to decipher it, but hearing morse is much different than seeing it, and there’s no way she wants to miss a single detail after waiting a whole week to hear back from the supporters, so she tosses the phone to Ray since she believes he will catch everything more efficiently than she could. And he does.
Now, I may be a total idiot, but for the life of me, I can’t remember who this hooded person might be? With it currently being March 2046, it can’t be James since he died sometime around September 2031 (if ch73 is anything to go by) and it ain’t Norman since he’s still trapped at Lambda until 2047. Perhaps Peter missed a supporter hiding amongst the Ratri clan and this is some random person but I dunno. Oh, unless this is just Smee..? I mean, the cloak he’s wearing is pretty much the same one Norman uses later on, so he could easily acquire it when they’re both at Lambda. That could be it. Hopefully.
Favorite panel/moment:
I HAVE DEARLY MISSED MY BOY CHRIS!! (& yes I noticed Gillian’s tiny head pat to Thoma. See! I knew they would get along well!)
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Vent Post About Anxiety
Past couple weeks have been pretty rough. Thought I'd post about it here. More for me to put my thoughts in order than anything, but if you wanna read it, go ahead. Long post, venting about trauma ahead.
So, near the end of February, I'd noticed I was tired a lot more, and sleeping a lot more. I'd thought maybe it was the weather shifting, maybe it was a bit of the seasonal depression. Who knows at this point?
But then I was getting a bit of a pain in my stomach. Sides? Abdomen? That general area. That with the usual stresses made me think of something I've dealt with before, and know how to treat. I'll skip the details on that; not so relevant. Anyway, I went to treating that how I usually do.
And maybe it would've worked out fine. Who knows? But I guess it hurt just enough for just long enough to kick my anxiety awake. And my anxiety just got worse over the next week or so. And of course, anxiety gets bad enough, it starts making existing symptoms worse due to stress and whatnot. And then the physical symptoms getting worse makes the anxiety worse. It just feeds on itself.
Now, I'm on meds for anxiety disorder. And one thing I've noticed more and more recently, is that they seem to work fine for that, for keeping me from being anxious all the time. But when things get super stressful, they don't do enough to stop an anxiety attack.
So, a little over a week ago, it got bad enough that I scheduled an appointment to talk to my doctor, about maybe adjusting my current meds, but also getting an emergency med for anxiety attacks, which wow I've been on anxiety meds for as long as I can remember how did I never have a rescue medication?
I don't know what it was about this time in particular, but this is the worst my anxiety's been in ages, maybe even the worst I can currently remember. In just the week before I saw my doctor, broke down crying four times. Two of those times were in one night (the night just before the appointment). It's good that I saw the doctor, but turns out an appointment to keep when your anxiety's making your sleep schedule a mess becomes yet another stressor.
Anyway. I saw the doctor. I got my meds adjusted, got an emergency med, and it's only been a couple days but my anxiety hasn't spiked up again yet. Fingers crossed there. Not 100% yet. I dunno if I'm 60% yet. But I'm better than a few days ago, I think.
On a slightly different tangent. Another main reason I'm typing this is to record how I felt while it's fresh in my mind.
The words that keep coming back to mind are "cold shock". It's like a cold shock that starts in the head and attacks a few different places. I say "shock", but it doesn't quite feel electric, so much as like it's sapping... something. It's gonna sound dramatic, but, it really feels like an attack on the mind, on the soul even.
Just this awful feeling that something is taking something from you. Something that you need to survive. And it takes whatever that something is until all that's left is "I just can't".
As for the more describable symptoms... Heartburn, of course. Or acid reflux, I forget the differences. A queasy or discomforting feeling in the stomach. A couple times, I felt like my legs were getting weak and shaking. That also could've been from not eating enough due to the other symptoms.
But it's that cold shock, that attack on the mind, that's the worst of it. That two-pronged attack of this overwhelming feeling of dread, and the sense that nothing you can do will help that feeling, so why do anything?
That feeling that you. Just. Can't.
To sum up, I'm feeling slightly better at the moment, and hopefully the worst of it's over. But, fuck, man. I'm just so exhausted from this, physically and mentally.
#personal stuff#personal problems#vent post#cw anxiety#trauma vent#ignore meee#i'm doing a bit better#take easy y'all
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Twins of Chaos
Master Post, Chapter Seven
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOCK IN THE CLOSET TOGETHER
"Yeah, whatever." Ben grabbed both of their arms and took them to a walk-in closet. He pushed them into it and shut the door, using a chair to block them in.
"Ben!" Josh shouted as he tried to open the door. "What are you doing?!"
"You two are going to make up or make out! I'm tired of your nonsense!"
"This is so unfair! Let us out!" Zack demanded.
"Nope! Have fun!"
With that, Ben left Zack and Josh in the closet and went to hang out in his room.
Josh sat on the ground, crossing his arms. "This is ridiculous. Why do we have to get along?"
"Don't ask me, Josh." Zack laid on his back.
The two fell into a tense silence that lasted forty minutes before Josh spoke up again.
"I want to know, what made you dislike me?"
"I don't... dislike you. You just confuse me."
"How?"
"I dunno. The first week after I moved in, you didn't talk to me. It took two days before I even saw you. I knew you existed. Ben told me all about you, so I knew you were here. I still don't know why you didn't talk to me."
Josh shrugged. "You were a sudden change. I suddenly had to share my space with a stranger because my kind hearted brother saw that a friend of his that has a small role in some random show needed a place to stay."
"Sudden change?" Zack sat up, knitting his brows together.
"I've never liked when something suddenly changes. I needed time to adjust to your presence. I never meant to offend."
"Why haven't you said anything?"
"You never asked."
"You're still so confusing. But, I probably could start being nicer to you."
"Same goes for me." Josh smiled at him. "I do have to ask, you've gotten successful enough that you could buy your own mansion. Why are you still here?"
Zack shrugged. "I've never liked being alone. I've lived alone a couple of times, and it's never been fun. Ben said I could stay here as long as I want as long as I help with rent. Which, I do."
"I suppose you do have a valid point."
"I just realized, I've never seen your smile."
"And?"
"And it's surprisingly adorable."
Pink dusted Josh's cheeks. "That's shockingly sweet of you to say. Thank you."
"Of course." Zack poked Josh's cheek. "Your eyes are cool."
"What's with all of the compliments?"
"Dunno."
"Plus, Ben's eyes mirror mine."
"I know. But I can still fine them cool, can't I?"
"I suppose." Josh didn't push Zack away, awkwardly clearing his throat. "What would you like to do whilst we're in here?"
"I guess we could play twenty questions."
Chapter Nine
#rottmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt au#rottmnt leo#rottmnt angst#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raph#disaster twins#twins of chaos
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1687
Have you ever seen a fox in person? I have not.
Would you say you have a quiet mind or do you have a lot of thoughts? I dunno how to answer this...I feel like it’s always either one or the other. My mind can definitely race, but I can zone out quite often, too. I guess it depends on my disposition for the day. Heavier anxiety = busier thoughts.
When did you last do something brave? Earlier, I guess? I’m in Malaysia right now and I tried to venture out earlier all alone beyond the mall that we’ve been visiting the past two days...and doing that felt pretty brave. I circled back though once I realized there was nothing to discover anyway.
Have you ever seen a magician? Well, yes. Idk about other cultures but booking magicians is common in children’s birthday parties here, so I’ve seen my fair share of them.
What's something you remember from your childhood that you wish you could experience again? Falling asleep on any non-bed surface and being carried to your actual bed.
Do you believe in karma? Why or why not? I mean I don’t have a strong, spiritual dependency on it, but it’s always nice when people get their ass bitten back after they’ve been a horrible person.
Do you have a tiktok account? I do, but I rarely go on TikTok. Too Gen Z for my taste and I only keep the app for work purposes.
Do you prefer the scent or color of lavender? Scent.
Would you rather live in a castle or a cottage? I would pick the castle. I feel like previous versions of me would prefer the quietness of a cottage, but at this point in my life I feel like the silence would drive me crazy within the days.
What type of music do you listen to the least and why? Country and techno, if anything. They’re just not my type of music, especially country.
When did you last visit a library? I’m not sure. I was definitely in school, and it was before the pandemic...so anywhere around 2019 to super early 2020.
What's one of your favorite memories from staying up late? When I was active in the wrestling fandom 10 years ago, EVERYBOdy else was either from the US or UK; this meant I was the one who had to adjust for the most part to be able to keep up with the community and with news. That also meant stocking up and chugging cups of coffee from 10-11 PM to be able to be awake for my friends through the night...it was always worth it though. I was able to find an amazing group of friends at the time who waited til I got home from school (the same way I’d stay up for them) until the wrestlers that we stanned resigned/left WWE and we all kind of grew apart from there.
Have or would you ever wear a necklace with someone's initial on it? I don’t think I have, but it’s something I’m willing to do. Initials to me aren’t as bad as, like, a full name or self-portrait.
What last made you laugh out loud? I’m watching Run BTS while taking this.
Do you usually keep water by your bedside at night? I used to, but I grew out of the habit.
What's an interesting fact about yourself? I have not seen most Disney movies. Like I’m pretty sure the entirety of my Disney watch history has only been Pixar films; most else I haven’t seen.
What did you last heat up in a microwave? Some cheesy chicken dish my dad made a couple of weeks ago.
Would you consider yourself lucky? In very few aspects. It’s rarely a word I would use to describe my experiences. What kind of pizza did you eat last? The iconic cheese pizza from Habanero, which was worth every single hype post I ever saw talk about it. I still dream about that damned pizza to this day.
What kind of shampoo do you use? I use Dove usually, but currently I have a Palmolive bottle just because they have a BT21 collaboration and I wanted to try it hahahaha.
How many blue objects are in the room you're in? My luggage is blue.
Would you rather visit an art museum or an aquarium? Museum.
Do you prefer sweeter cereal over unsweetened? Sweeter.
If you could build a 5 artist/band lineup to your dream music festival.. which ones would you choose? BTS, Twice, Seventeen, Lee Youngji, Epik High. What's a habit you have broken or are currently trying to break? I’ve been trying not to stay up until 2-3 AM before a workday.
Have you ever volunteered at an animal shelter? I haven’t but that’s been on my mind for years now. I’ve just been too busy... :( Is there anything currently bothering you? Yeah...I’ve been on leave for like virtually two weeks now, and the amount of workload I’ve been leaving behind is stressful. This is on top of the fact that I have a new associate under me who’s been pretty clueless about what to do, so I’ve had to take portions of my leave to walk her hand through certain tasks; and then there’s also the anxiety of not being sure if she’s able to do the job right. Idk. It sucks. I’m in a sucky place mental-wise. I am extremely grateful for this leave and the two vacations I have taken (my first in seven years), but I also can’t wait for it to be OVER so I can finally be back on track and get rid of that exhausting catching-up feeling. How many stuffed animals do you have on your bed? Do the BT21 ones count as stuffed animals? I’ve got two - one Tata, one Koya.
How much is too much to spend on a pair of shoes? I would probably stop at anywhere over ₱30,000.
What's the strangest thing that you've ever seen someone collect? There are stranger collections I’m sure, but my mom likes to collect tissue papers from different establishments. They’re all unused ok so she’s not gross HAHA, but I think it’s both unique and endearing that she keeps a stash of tissues from like McDonald’s and Jollibee and Shakey’s and where-fucking-ever in the car.
Have you recently been to a concert? ARE YOU KIDDING. I went to see AGUST FUCKING D last Sunday in Bangkok. Bit of a nosebleed seat, but I COULD NOT CARE LESS. I was with Yoongi that night; and it was the one promise I made myself when I decided not to go the unaliving route when I discovered BTS two years ago. I sang and screamed and cheered like my life depended on it and between you and me I still feel like floating on air; I can’t believe my friends and I managed to make it happen.
Who did you last have a phone conversation with? Idk I don’t talk on the phone a lot.
What's the most dominant personality trait you have? I am sensitive.
Do you ever watch sports? Eh, just wrestling.
What's had the biggest impact on your day? The dude who hit on me while I was sitting at the park. That was a nice ego boost because nobody ever approaches me back in the Philippines LOL, but I wish it didn’t happen while I genuinely wanted to be alone. We don’t have any parks in the Philippines so I was Actually savoring my time there, so to that guy I shot down in record time, I’m sorry. Thank you for being nice about it though.
What's your least favorite cheese? I don’t think I’ve ever found a least favorite cheese. What did you last have as a snack? Some 7-Eleven sushi.
What's your favorite decoration in your place of residence? It’s more than just decoration, but seeing Kimi’s memorial box in the living room makes me smile every single day. I like that we have a way to keep him around.
Would you rather read a book or watch a movie? I’d pick the movie mostly because I am a lot pickier with books.
What's your plans for the upcoming week? Finish out my vacation here in Malaysia, then catch up on work starting Wednesday.
When did you last feel rushed? Last Sunday, after the concert. Bangkok concert culture is a bit different from Manila’s and security will clear out the inside and outside of the arena *as soon* as the artist walks off, so after Yoongi left the stage everything was pretty much a blur. We were being asked to leave every 10 seconds even though we were clearly rushing out, lol.
What was the last thing to scare you? I felt like some guy was following me earlier back at the mall, so I felt off and walked as briskly as I can.
Have you drank enough water today? Eh, probably not.
What's your top 3 favorite fruits? Avocado, and that’s it really.
What season do you think is the most comfortable? Neither.
What lie do you say the most? That I’m doing fine. It’s also the safest lie to go with so it’s whatever.
What website do you frequent often besides Bzoink? Twitter, YouTube, Facebook.
Do you have anything due soon? Nopes.
What did you last consume that you thought was nasty? I haven’t had anything bad in a while, actually!
What's a song you feel describes your mood most right now? Hectic by RM and Colde.
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🎥
Oron was tapping his finger on the wooden table below his drink to the beat of the music that blasted throughout the bar. He was supposed to meet his friend, someone he had known way back during the war. One of the few remaining Lost Boys.
A figure approached him, placing his drink down on the empty coaster as he sat down on the stool. He was much shorter than Oron, a little lankier too but judging by the size of the glass he put down, it was obvious that he was Australian.
“So. How ya finding life in the big city?” The man asks Oron as his attention is now completely focused on him. The other gave a roll of his shoulder, adjusting himself in a better sitting position.
“I dunno. Didn’t really expect it to be so much more different than Darwin.” Oron responded. “Everything is so… advanced here. Robots, flying cars, large skyscrapers.” He paused to turn and face towards a robot that was talking to some kind of dealer. “It’s strange to think that this is what life is like around the world while we are still driving utes across the outback.” The blue haired Australian grabbed his drink, turning towards his friend. “How’d you process it Wayne?”
“Gotta be honest with ya mate. There was a huge adjustment period. It’s a lot more chaotic. Everyone rushing around with their own lives, they barely pay attention to ya unless you give them a reason too. Both a blessing and a curse really.” Wayne pressed his lips against the tip of his glass and took a drink. “One hand, I do miss that small town mentality of everyone knowing everyone. Kinda like in Darwin. But like everyone else, I got my own shit to deal with.”
Oron was nodding along with what his friend was saying. He gave a little bit of a sigh as he leaned back in his stool. “I guess the thing I’m struggling with the most is the corpo lifestyle around here.”
“Oh, Megacorp?”
“Yeah. That’s the one. Seems like they own everything in the god damn city.” Oron drank.
“That’s because they do.” Wayne responded. “Detroit’s own home grown mega corporation. They like to parade around the fact that everyone is so proud of them but no. Word on the street is that they are as hated as those fuckers who tried to invade us.” “So I’ve heard. Though I have had a couple of their workers come through my shop.”
“Really now?” The Lost Boy shifted to face Oron. “For what exactly?” “You know. Typical car troubles and basic robotics. Seems like some of them would rather go through local places than give Megacorp their paychecks. Though.” Oron did have a smirk on his face. “One of them was asking for a sex bot. Real weirdo that one.”
The last sentence made Wayne almost spit out his drink. “Nah get fucked cunt, ya lying to me! There’s no way.”
“I ain’t lyin’” Oron grabbed his phone out and opened his photos. He leaned it over ever so slightly to show his friend.
“No fuckin’ way. And you built it too?” Wayne looked at Oron.
“Willing to pay top dollar if the thing could suck like a vacuum cleaner.” The Australian put his phone away, laughing.
All throughout the night, their conversation continued. Just mostly back and forth about life in Detroit and some of the misadventures both of them have had. Oron had only been in the city for several weeks but boy did he have a good amount of stories he could tell. However, as the night was reaching its peak. A gunshot erupted from the very corner where the robot and dealer were sitting. Oron stood up from his spot with a sigh.
“Get outta here Wayne. I’ll talk to ya later.” And with that, he pressed the button on his ear piece, activating Ironclad.
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ukai keishin - grumpy
amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]
Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin
Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.
ukai x reader
word count: 4k
cross posted: ao3
The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.
“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.
“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist. “What about you?”
He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”
You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.
Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’
Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you?
“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.”
“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him.
The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.
“You gonna hold it or drink it?’
You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”
“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”
“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”
A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.
“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more.
“Do what?”
Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”
You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself.
“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.
“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it. The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices.
“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.
"I guess I am."
Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump. It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough.
Every moment together is restorative.
“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye, “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”
Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”
You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”
“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.
You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."
He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"
"I made it with hate."
"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.
"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.
The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff.
You can’t help but crumble.
There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace.
When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.
He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”
You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”
This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings.
“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”
“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”
“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”
Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”
He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”
It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”
“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”
“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”
“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”
The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold.
“Come. Here.”
“No way.”
You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries.
You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.
Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life. You want the moment to freeze, to stay in this childish bliss forever-
-but, of course, it doesn’t.
The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.
“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God, shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic?
“No, I think I’m really hurt.”
“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood.
“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”
You let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”
He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.
“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”
You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”
Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”
He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”
Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.”
Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”
You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”
He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features.
“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.
“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you.
“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.
“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.
Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips. With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight.
“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “
He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild, it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.
“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”
Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous.
As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.
“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”
Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum.
“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core.
“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good- and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.”
God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.
Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment.
“I wanna be with you forever.”
Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.
It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking.
“‘M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you. “I’m gonna nap.”
After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”
Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”
He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.
“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?”
He hums a question, buttoning your pants.
“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”
Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”
#haikyu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#fluff#smut#ukai#ukai keishin#ukai x reader#keishin x reader#ukai keishin x reader#mint's musings
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De Amore
My fic for @aceomenszine is finally available on AO3!
Aziraphale has come to Paris to find the answer to an important question: What's it like to be in love? Crowley's not sure why he wants to know, but he's willing to discuss it to make his angel happy. Full text below!
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“What’s it like to be in love?”
Crowley stumbled to a stop on the Paris street, glaring at the angel beside him. Aziraphale stared straight ahead, walking with his usual expression: calm, poised, slightly arrogant. As if he were talking about the weather.
“Dunno. S’a human thing, isn’t it?” He scowled at a few gawking peasants, hurrying to catch up. “Romance. Lust. Sex. Nothing to do with us.”
“You could say the same of hunger, or exhaustion, or boredom.”
“Yeah, and I’d be right.” Crowley held out an arm to stop Aziraphale from walking directly into a produce cart. “Neither of us gets exhausted. You’re never tired, and I just like a good nap sometimes.”
“Really?” A flicker of that mocking bastard smirk. “How many nights did you sleep this past week?”
“Nrrg. Five or six, but that’s not the point.” They started walking again, Crowley tossing an apple he’d snuck from the cart. “I could stop if I wanted to — I’d miss it, but s’not the same as being tired. Same with you and eating.”
“But if I desire a food, so strongly I can already taste it, surely that’s…if not exactly hunger, a close approximation?”
“Don’t think so.” Crowley offered the apple, but Aziraphale shook his head. “Spend a couple days in the city, you’ll see what hunger looks like. S’not about pleasure or wanting a particular food. It’s need, desperation. And we just don’t experience that.” He tossed the apple towards a group of children, and a girl in a ragged dress caught it. “Boredom I’ll grant you. I’ve definitely been bored.”
“So, we might enjoy things as humans do, but never desire them the same way,” Aziraphale mused, smoothing his hands down the front of his stolen jacket. “But is love the longing for a connection with another, or the pleasure of that connection?”
“Doesn’t really make a difference to us, does it?”
He waited for Aziraphale to respond, but the angel simply continued walking, hands folded behind his back, eyes more distant than usual.
“So?” Crowley prodded after nearly a block in silence. “What brought this on?” Aziraphale shrugged. “Let me guess. Reading novels again? Sappy poetry? Getting…ideas?” He stepped ahead of Aziraphale and walked backwards, to ensure the angel saw his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. No response. Crowley shrugged, falling back into step. “Look, f’you want to try falling in love with a human, s’your business. Let me know how it goes. Just do it back in London, I don’t need that…drama getting back to my bosses.”
“That’s not it,” Aziraphale snapped, wringing his hands. “It’s not — it doesn’t even work that way, Crowley. Humans don’t just decide to fall in love!”
“They don’t cross an ocean and charge through a revolution for a snack, either.”
“Oh, never mind. Clearly you’re the expert here.” Aziraphale froze, glaring at a shop just ahead, and threw his hands up in disgust. “And now they’ve closed my favorite creperie! Why do I even bother? Might as well return to England and feast upon whatever lumpy brown bread the first tavern I pass serves.”
“Stop being dramatic,” Crowley hissed, turning down a side street and gesturing for Aziraphale to follow. “If you get locked up again, I’m not rescuing you a second time.” The angel’s lips twisted sourly. “Look, gourmet crepes aren’t really in demand right now, but I know a place. Might still be open.”
“I suppose that will have to do.”
Crowley rolled his eyes and glared at the sky, thin grey clouds veiling the sun. He should probably just let Aziraphale stew in his own sullen displeasure. Might even give him an advantage — a distracted angel was easier to outsmart.
But Crowley hadn’t been in the business of thwarting Aziraphale for over a thousand years. Why oppose each other, when they could work…not together, but in tandem? Ensuring all their duties were fulfilled, their paperwork properly filed.
It was better this way. Less fuss all around, less inconvenience. Pleasanter conversation. More time for trips to the theater or quiet meals, either of which was a far better way to spend an evening than any sort of elaborate espionage.
He’d been looking forward to griping about his job over a mug of cider while Aziraphale worked his way through a plate of crepes, smiling and wiggling in his seat. Watching Aziraphale get excited over something was, in Crowley’s opinion, one of the best ways to pass the time.
Only the conversation had left Aziraphale annoyed, pouting and…Crowley studied him carefully, dark glasses imperfectly hiding his eyes. More than anything, Aziraphale looked hurt. A sight that always made Crowley’s stomach twist painfully.
He sighed, tossing back his head. “‘Love is an inborn suffering, proceeding from the sight and immoderate thought upon the beauty of another, for which cause above all other things one wishes to embrace the other and, by common assent, in this embrace to fulfil the commandments of love.’”[1]
“I beg your pardon?”
“Look, I don’t know. You asked me—!” Crowley walked faster, face growing hot. “It’s from some old treatise, right? Love, he says, is seeing someone beautiful and wanting sex. Then, when you have your fill…” he waved his hand vaguely.
“I see.” Aziraphale adjusted his sleeves. “I suppose that…makes sense.” But he still looked grim.
Up ahead, not quite along their path, stood one of Paris’s parks, gates now open to the public. Apart from some rubbish cluttering the entrance, it seemed well-maintained. Crowley tipped his head, inviting.
Aziraphale’s eyes lit up and he nodded, the first hint of a smile on his face. It always made Crowley feel light, that smile, however briefly it appeared.
They wandered in silence up the path, lined by trees here, flowerbeds there. Leaves had turned yellow and the grass was edged with brown, but the roses were still in bloom. Crowley paused to pluck a particularly well-formed bud.
As they crossed a bridge over a small watercourse, Aziraphale suddenly said, “Do you think it’s true, though? That — that treatise? Because it rather sounds like he didn’t see any difference between lust and love.”
“Mmh.” Crowley paused, gazing downstream, where a group of ducks swam contentedly. “As a demon? Yeah. Fits the party line. Humans don’t think of anything but their own pleasure, always wanting what they don’t have. Jealous, possessive, until something better comes along. Then it starts all over. If love and lust aren’t the same, well, they’re pretty close, right?”
“I see.” Aziraphale stepped beside him, holding out his red cap, now filled with grains of barley and cracked corn. They each took a handful and tossed it down. The ducks swam over eagerly, bobbing to catch the seeds before they drifted away.
“But as a being who’s been in the world nearly six thousand years?” Crowley threw another handful, then leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. “Not so sure. Humans do too much that can’t be explained by simple pleasure. Besides, I’ve seen what they do when overwhelmed by lust, and what they do when overwhelmed by love and…dunno. S’not the same.”
More handfuls of grains as a second group of ducks approached.
“What d’you think, Angel?” Crowley prodded. “Must be something in all those books you read.”
“Oh, quite a lot,” Aziraphale assured him. “Much of it contradictory. Many poets will only talk about their beloved’s face, or eyes, but if it were simply a matter of beauty, surely everyone would fall in love with the same beauties.”
“Sometimes they do.” Crowley rolled some seeds between his palms. “S’where the jealousy comes in. But yeah. Gotta be more to it than that.”
“I hope you’re not planning to make those poor ducks sink.”
“What? Nk — no. Course not.” He threw the grains down and the ducks quickly swarmed, turning bright shades of pink and blue and violet as they ate.
“Crowley.”
“Oh, it’s not hurting anyone.” He glanced sideways to see Aziraphale pressing his lips together, struggling not to smile. Grinning, Crowley tossed down more enchanted grains. “Go on then.”
“Hmm? Ah, yes. Well, the overall impression is that love is…transformative. Changes the way one thinks and feels at all times. They speak of, oh, the sun shining brighter, foods tasting sweeter, winter blossoming into summer. Metaphors. Others speak of — of attraction, quickened pulse, sudden heat and so on, but that’s a passing thing, part of a — a particular moment of closeness. Surely, no human could maintain such a state for an hour, never mind weeks or years!” Aziraphale offered Crowley the last handful of grain in his cap. “And once that moment passes…”
“Back to the metaphors.” The ducks below were now spotted, striped, every color of the rainbow. One bore pure white wings, beside another with midnight black. Aziraphale chuckled, very softly, which made Crowley feel immensely satisfied. Dusting off his hands, he circled the angel and continued walking.
“Yes,” Aziraphale hurried to catch up, cap twisting in his hands. “I get the sense that the feeling is so obvious, so…universal, they never think to describe it.”
“How inconsiderate.” Crowley thought it over. “So, flash of heat, racing heart, sun gets brighter, then ten pages about the color of their eyes? That about it?”
“I suppose so.” Aziraphale rubbed a finger across his lip. “Not always beauty, though. Some appear drawn by their partner’s clever mind, or acts of kindness. Some praise stories of bravery or great deeds, others fixate on meaningless symbols of wealth. But still, those only tell why one falls in love, not what it feels like.”
“Sounds like a sort of obsession.” Crowley furrowed his brow. “That treatise had a list of…sort of rules of love. Mostly about jealousy, really, don’t think the author thought much of women, but… ‘Every action of a lover ends in the thought of his beloved.’”
“I see…so that, together or apart, one cannot help but think always of the other. That certainly aligns with the evidence.” He started to replace his cap, then paused, looking inside. “Anything else of use?”
“‘Love can deny nothing to love.’” Beside him, Aziraphale turned pink and a brilliant smile broke across his face, like the sun after a storm. He pulled from the cap the bright red rosebud Crowley had hidden within.
Crowley watched as Aziraphale slid the flower into his buttonhole, drinking in the way the delighted shiver ran across his shoulders. Then the angel looked up, hitting Crowley with the full force of his smile.
Stunning. Blinding. It stole Crowley’s breath away, wiped every thought from his mind.
One day, that smile would destroy him, and he wouldn’t mind at all.
“So, this creperie — are we close?”
“Ngh. Smh. Unh. Nearly. Another block or two.” The park’s gate stood just ahead, half shut, the bustling street beyond. Crowley quickly stepped ahead, pulling it open for Aziraphale. “You, ah, find the answer you needed?”
“I…think so, yes.” He rested his fingers on the gate — so close to Crowley’s he could feel their warmth — then quickly pulled away, folding his hands behind his back. “I’ve been trying to work out…well…whether I’m in love with you, Crowley.”
“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Oh.”
“Indeed.” Aziraphale’s eyes darted nervously and he began to pace. “I-I want you to know, I don’t desire you. I’ve never felt that sort of attraction. And I’m not jealous by any means. I’m not even certain who I’m meant to be jealous of. But…” He turned back, tugging his jacket. “I think of you. Constantly. Every action, every experience reminds me of you. I go to a concert, and I can’t concentrate on the music, only whether you would enjoy it. I hear a joke and I imagine how you would laugh, or roll your eyes, and I can’t know a moment’s peace until I’ve shared it with you. And last month…when I was reprimanded…for days afterward I could think of nothing but how I wished you were there. When I finally found the strength to venture out, it was only from my determination to come here.”
“For…crepes?” Crowley offered stupidly.
“No, you silly creature, for you.” He stepped forward, reaching up as if to straighten Crowley’s lapels, but once again his hands dropped. “I hear your voice and no matter how dark my situation — no matter how absurd you look in the current fashion — I just…feel happy again.”
Aziraphale took a deep breath and lifted his eyes — hopeful, fearful, vulnerable — to meet Crowley’s.
“Oh.” Something more was probably needed. “Yeah.”
That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.
“Well.” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped and he turned, trying to hide his expression. “Yes. I thought you should know.” He ducked his head and hurried through the gate. “Where — where is this creperie? We should try to arrive—”
“Me too.”
Crowley hadn’t meant to say anything. His mind was still ten minutes behind, struggling to catch up, but the pain on Aziraphale’s face hurt him like a blow to the chest.
The two words stopped Aziraphale in his tracks.
“I…I think about you, too.” Crowley stepped halfway through the gate, gripping the bar so tight it began to bend. “When I wake up, or fall asleep and…and away from you, here, I just…I miss you…but you — you idiot, with your crepes and your — your execution and…and then you smile and I just…” Blast! How could Aziraphale be so eloquent? Crowley swallowed and started over. “Look, m’trying to say…don’t think I can deny you anything. And. If that’s love…yeah. Me too.”
All this time, Aziraphale stood perfectly still, his back to Crowley. But now he turned, blue eyes furiously blinking. “That’s…ah…thank you. I know y-you hate being thanked but…” Aziraphale took one step closer, then another, until only inches separated them. “Thank you.”
“Nh.” He could so easily reach across that last bit of distance. Crowley didn’t know what that would accomplish, what he’d even do, but he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. “Now what?”
“I don’t know.” Aziraphale’s gaze fell. “It…doesn’t change anything, does it? You’re still a demon, and I’m—”
“I don’t care,” Crowley hissed, shocked at the fervor in his own voice. “We don’t need to play by their rules. We could — run off, or—”
“We can’t. Crowley, both our sides would — they’d find us, they’d destroy you.”
“I’m willing to risk it.” He reached for Aziraphale’s hand.
“I’m not.” The angel jerked back, putting more distance between them, eyes wide. “Crowley that’s — that’s not a chance I’m willing to take. I’m sorry, but no.”
“Fine,” Crowley growled, pulling away. “What do you want?”
“I want…” Aziraphale shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I want a shop in London, where I can surround myself with books and foods and everything I enjoy. I want my superiors to trust me, let me bring good into the world my own way, without sending me all over Creation at a moment’s notice and — and punishing me for a few miracles to make my life easier. I want us to go to plays and gardens and balls together, not for clandestine meetings but because we enjoy them. To be openly in each other’s company, without fear of reprisal. And…I’d like you to visit my shop and bring me flowers or sweets. I’d serve my very best wine and…we’d talk all night about…everything and nothing. And laugh together.” His eyes fluttered open and for the first time Aziraphale looked sure of himself. “I want what we already have. Only I want more of it.”
This time he didn’t move as Crowley reached out. Long fingers carefully adjusted the rosebud, standing it straighter in its buttonhole. “Yeah. I…I’d like that, too.”
“And you don’t want anything…physical?”
Crowley snorted. “M’not a human.” But he wondered if Aziraphale’s cheek was as soft as the rosebud’s petals. “I’d like to touch you. Your hand, your face. Your wings. Hear your voice as I fall asleep. Feel your fingers in my hair. Is that…too much?”
“No.” Aziraphale smiled gently. “That sounds perfect.”
“Maybe…” Crowley fidgeted with his glasses, shuffled his feet, but refused to step away. “If we’re careful…”
“The Arrangement is already dangerous enough. You must understand…”
Crowley closed his eyes. “I do. Nothing changes.” Except there were words now, to the feeling he had when he thought of his angel. And that changed everything. When he looked again, Aziraphale nodded, as if he felt the same.
“Right then.” Crowley circled around Aziraphale, sauntering back to the main road. “Let’s see if these crepes are worth risking the guillotine.”
“My dear fellow,” Aziraphale easily kept pace. “One bite of true Breton crepes will silence your doubts forever.”
“Breton, huh?”
“Oh, yes, far superior to any others.”
“If that’s so,” Crowley smirked, remembering Aziraphale in his cell, “s’a wonder you came to Paris. Particularly in such a…controversial outfit.”
“The city has…certain other attractions.”
Something warm and heavy wrapped across Crowley’s shoulders, invisible to his eyes, though he could feel the individual feathers tickle his neck. Aziraphale strolled beside him, hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward, as if nothing were amiss.
Carefully, trying to look natural, Crowley scratched his shoulder, brushing his knuckles down a long flight feather, softer than any mortal bird’s.
Aziraphale smiled ever so slightly and flexed his wing, holding Crowley a little more tightly. An embrace that no one could see, no one could know about, except them.
“Dunno,” Crowley said. “Still seems pretty risky.”
“Yes. But I’m an incorrigible old fool. Sometimes I can’t help myself.”
“Suppose I can understand,” Crowley said as he extended his own wing, wrapping it around Aziraphale’s waist. The angel’s composure broke as he wiggled, burying himself in invisible feathers. Crowley smiled, heat running through him, a warm spring day after a long cold winter. “After all, we’re not so different, you and I.”
[1] De Amore, Andreas Capellanus, c. 1190
So happy to finally share this!
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#ace omens#ineffable husbands#asexual ineffable husbands#ace omens zine#aziraphale#crowley#love confessions#feeding the ducks#aziraphale loves crowley#crowley loves his angel#what even is love#ace fanfiction#qpp#banter#my writing#ao3 link
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FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family
Word Count: 1804
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury
Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson
A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!
Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.
Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!
FATWS Masterlist
cjsinkythoughts Masterlist
You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.
But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.
“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”
The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”
You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.
His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”
You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”
“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”
Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”
*************************
Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.
“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”
You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.
“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”
“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”
You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”
“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.
“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.
“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-”
“Y/N! You’re back!”
You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”
She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”
“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”
“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.
“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”
“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”
A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”
“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”
You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.
“You’re back early.”
“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”
He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”
You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”
“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”
“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”
You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”
He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”
“You’re a bully, you know that?”
“I’m just sayin’!”
“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”
His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”
“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”
“Is that why you came back late?”
Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”
He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot. “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”
Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”
“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”
You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.
What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?
You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.
With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.
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