#bit crackish?

[sofasoap]

Interlude: Here comes the insertion specialist

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary: Don't give König ANY alcohol.

Warning: M Rated. INNUENDO, INNUENDO!  Alcohol consumption ( be responsible people), swearing, sexual theme. Slight crack fic. English isn’t my first language, there will be a lot of grammatical and tense mistake.

A/N: This is part of the world what I dubbed “ Mini MacTavish Universe”. Inspired by  @saltofmercury ’s “ “The Favorite MacTavish”. Praise her for lending me her character and universe * starry eye *. Go read her brilliant stories!

 “masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

You know König doesn't drink alcohol. No big deal. Each to their own. Maybe he just doesn't like the taste of it. What you didn't realise is he has ZERO tolerance to alcohol.

Kortac was in UK again after a successful joint operation with the SAS. To your surprise, Johnny rang you and ask if you want to travel to  Credenhill  to join the party. "That's rare, usually I have to beg you to let me tag along!"

"... The team was asking for you." " They are asking for their FAVOURITE MacTavish you mean?"

" Jesus Christ, do you want to come or not?"

" Just give me the date and I'll check my shift timetable."

You were secretly excited you will get to see König again after the chance meeting which turned into, according to Emma, a coffee date. Was that a date? You don't know. Do you like him? Maybe. For the moment you are just enjoying your time texting back and forth. ( or mainly him sending pictures of what his current little carving projects are or interesting things he notice while on mission. It's quite adorable really. )

Dropping off your luggage at the airbnb near the barrack, you make your way towards the bar frequently attended by the team. Walking in, loud noises hits you instantly. The pub was packed full of people, it's a popular spot for the SAS soldiers since the barrack isn't far off. You look around trying to find your brother. Soon enough you spot Ghost's tall figure with Johnny and Gaz playing a round of snooker. You ran up to your brother and tackled him from behind.

"Mini! you made it!" Gaz exclaimed. "What's a gathering without me livening up the atmosphere?" You high fived each other. Johnny turned around and gave you a big hug.

" How was the train ride here?" "Busy. Lucky I booked my ticket as soon as you told me about the gathering." Pointing at Ghost, " Am I allow to greet him? or is the no Ghosting rule still apply?" "What are you planning." he look at you deadpan expression. " Nothing. I am just being friendly." " Why does this sound familiar." You turned and smiled at Ghost, " Hey Simon. "

" ... Hey." " Mini." " Hey Uncle Price!" You left Johnny's embrace and went in for a hug with Price. Why does Ghost look slightly disappointed?

"Who else is here?"

Price pointed towards the table near the bar. "Some of the KorTac members are over there, the rest are scattered around." "OHh I see new people I haven't met." " MINI" Johnny and Simon chimed in same time with warning tone.

" Yes Sir, I know Sir, I will behave Sir.” You gave the boys your best salute and wondered towards the bar to order a beer. While standing at the bar, you see König, per usual, hiding at the edge of the room, trying to make himself invisible with a glass of what looks like a coke in his hand, listening to his teammate's conversation. Doing your best you try to wave to him, he spotted you, his eyes lit up and timidly waved back. Horangi saw the interaction, elbowed König and teased him a little. König duck his head down, blushing. You felt a set of eyes on you, turning around you can see Ghost looking at your direction, eyes narrowed. What's his problem?

Soon you find yourself mixing with the ladies from both teams, gossiping away. They sure have fascinating stories to tell, tales of war to suitors or love interests they meet during their missions.

".... and would you believe, their pick up line was, "“I’ve lost my teddy bear! Can I sleep with you instead?”" You laughed, " Oh gosh, that sounded like me from last time!" " Look, if it comes from you, it sounds cute, but coming from that person??" Nova made a face. " Mini, come on, got any stories to tell? Any strange pick up lines?" " Sadly no. All the boys that wants to approach me been scared off by Johnny." " Pfft, for a casanova like him, it's bit contradicting. no offense Mini."

" None taken Kleo. I know my brother is a manwhore. A gentlemanly manwhore." Everyone burst out laughing. Out of corner of your eyes, you saw König swaying a bit in his seat. No one else seems to notice. His drink nearly finish. Maybe he is tired? All of sudden, he stood up, startling the people around him, and proceed to swagger towards you, full of purpose, you will be lying if it doesn't stir the heat up a little bit down there. Cocking an eyebrow, you turned your chair towards him. Waiting for his next move. Stopping right in front of you, he leans down, hands on both side of you on the table, trapping you. Gosh, he does have beautiful blue eyes, the piercing blue eyes.... wait, is that bit of alcohol you can smell from his breath?

"Hello Schatz." He purred. "Do you know why they call me insertion specialist? because I am VERY GOOD at ramming... " his eyes flickers down towards his crotch, " THINGS... especially into people." The whole pub just went dead silent. Your jaw dropped. Is he trying to flirt with you? Hearing a loud clank noise, your eyes darts towards the snooker table, Johnny had dropped his cue, eyes wide with shock, while Ghost looks like he was about to murder certain someone with veins popping out of his forehead. Gaz was laughing his head off, smacking Price's back, making him choke. " WHO THE FUCK ADDED RUM INTO HIS COKE!!!!"

Just think of the way König walks at the character intro screen. mmmmm.

lack of sleep does this to you. Oops.

[warningsine]

[variant-defect]

@apocalypta-secundus asked:

"I SAW ONLINE THAT YOU ONLY LIVE 16 YEARS." Holds up a picture of a Pomeranian. (Yukimi @ Bakugo, I'm sorry)

What.

He's taken by surprise at the sudden approach, most people maintain a fair distance from him, given his reputation for being so callous and blunt. His expression reads as repulsion as he tries to quickly look over the paper being shoved towards him and at first he's not making the connection, he's still reeling from the action from her, of all people.

He looks at her then back to the photo.

"The hell. You callin' me a dog?! What kind of idiotic crap is that?! In what universe would anyone compare a top, battle ready student of U.A. to a shrimpy, useless dog like that?!" Indignation clear across his face, he reaches to push down the photo, crumpling the top part.

"Get this outta my face!"

The next time he's seen, there's a noticeable change in his appearance. Mainly the hair. No, he's not happy about it but maybe Best Jeanist was onto something and maybe this would get those idiots to shut-up about dumb-ass, tiny dogs!

He says nothing; only grits his teeth and averts his gaze.

[theothervonkarmagirl]

🍭:

Ok nsfw under the cut again but lol

What if Maria got a certificate to bring a friend to get a wax and the only one around to accept is Ema, and she actually goes lol

Omg Ema screams and it’s one of those shots that pan out from the building, then the city, then the country, then the earth, then the galaxy lol

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

Tags:

@pedroswife69

@jasminedragoon

@lilac-boo

@peekyourinterest

@evysian

@millersamour

@evolnoomym

@ladybeediva

@hoelaris

@gwendibleywrites

@xdaddysprincessxx

@bitchesuntitled

@thundermartini

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@indiegirlunited

@yopossum

@sunshinehaze1

@moel-jiller

@pedrito-is-punk

@baebee35

@blacktoptown

@deliciouslydisturbed365

@94namkooksworld

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@indiegirlunited

@kilamonster

@hoelaris

@anoverwhelmingdin

@bbyanarchist

@syd-djarin

@deviseren

@embearlyhere

@ace-turned-confused

@lostfleurs

@perpetuallymanic

@embearlyhere

@kilamonster

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited

@syd-djarin

@harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[7ndipity]

Leaving For The Military

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would be with their crush or S/o before enlisting and how they keep in touch.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anons who requested this! I debated on whether or not I would post something about this, but since several of you asked, I decided I would. I did decid to make this more fluffy/crackish tho, cause I don’t want y’all getting too sad.(also, I struggled with this one a bit, so I’m sorry if it’s shit)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I think back a lot on how he said before that he’s allergic to seriousness, so other than when he first tells you about going, I think he tries to keep things really light and upbeat.

Probably spends the whole week before leaving asking you to shave his head. “I’m not doing that!” “Why not? It’ll be a bonding experience!”

Leaves several little notes/letters for you(similar to his messages for Army) saying how much he loves and can’t wait to see you again. Plus, you’ve seen how frequently he posts on weverse, so you know he’s texting/calling you all the time.

Yoongi:

Since he’s in public service and getting to stay close to home(I think?), he really tries to avoid making a big deal out of it. Like, it’s obviously still a major shift in his life, but being able to still see/talk to you regularly would make it a lot easier.

If you live abroad tho, he would take it a bit more seriously, making sure the two of you talk as regularly as possible.(since they’re not allowed to travel abroad during service)

Literally keeps a list of things he wants to tell you/talk about whenever y’all call/video chat so he won’t forget anything.

Hobi:

He makes a point to spend as much time with you as possible before he leaves, making little bucket lists of things for the two of you to do together before and after enlistment.

Lowkey keeps flexing in his uniform(you’ve seen his insta, you know it’s true) “I look kinda good tho, right Babe? Babe?” *😑agrees but won’t admit it*

He misses you so much, and he calls/checks in with you every chance he gets(honestly, y’all talk more than me and my besties, lol)

Namjoon:

He’s rather solemn and serious about the whole thing, though he tries not to talk about it too much, trying to focus more on enjoying your time together rather than dwelling on what’s to come.

Y’all probably spent the whole night before he left awake and talking about anything and everything, not wanting to lose any time together on sleep.

Tries to call/message you as often as possible, getting over-excited to catch up on what’s going on in your life and share what he’s doing.

Jimin:

He spends the last couple days before leaving practically fused to your side, trying to soak up as much time with you as possible. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s anxious abt all of it.

Another that would probably leave you one, or more likely multiple notes/letters for after he leaves for you to read whenever you’re feeling down(totally didn’t read them all in the first week, wym?).

He messages/calls you every chance he gets(probs featuring an appearance from Jk, if it’s true abt them getting to stick together)

Taehyung:

He takes a semi-unserious approach to the whole thing. Like, he’s very sincere and open when you have the initial discussion about him leaving, but after that he’s just making little cracks about it here and there.

“You know, it’s kinda like the plot of a drama.” “It’s really not.”

He’s so dramatic abt missing you, calling you constantly. Another who would likely leave you little notes for when you’re feeling low, though his include random suggestions like eating at certain restaurants y’all like or watching your fav movies/shows.

Jungkook:

As we’ve seen with his posts from the past couple weeks, I think he would be somewhat somber when he first talks to you about everything and maybe again right before he leaves, but the rest of the time he’d try to keep things light and unserious.

(you know he’s constantly trying to get you to rub his head after he gets it shaved🙄)

Obviously, he misses you like crazy, but he tries not to let on too much at first when y’all talk, but it starts to show when he admits you’re always the first person he calls or texts.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[alittlebitofloveliness]

A bit of a rant

CW: Discussion of sex work

Listen, I know Hinton was being facetious when she said Darry's second job was stripping, and I know a lot of the fandom sees it in a crackish joking kind of way- and I'm not saying I actually do think Darry worked as a stripper- but I wish the fandom treated that anecdote differently. Like, sex work is work, and people have been engaging in it since the beginning of time. Theres a reason prostitution is called the world's oldest profession, there has always been a demand for it and there always will be. Again, I'm not saying I genuinely believe Darry's second job was stripping, partially because male strip clubs didn't really emerge until the 70s (according to my very rudimentary research, so please correct me if I'm wrong), and because it's antithetical to Darry' character (he's got a lot of internalized toxic masculinity and would probably view it as demeaning) and because it's very likely he would have lost custody of Pony and Soda if the state ever found out. I also think that while the Curtis' are poor they've never been desperate enough to resort to sex work. But survival sex work is a big thing in underprivileged communities. It's something many people turn to if they get desperate enough. If you're hungry enough or need to make rent or struggle finding or keeping employment out there, sex work is something you can turn to, and many people do. The Curtis' almost definitely know people on the east side who engage in some sort of sex work, and I wish the fandom could view it for what it is- work, genuine work that people engage in, sometimes to survive and sometimes simply because they like doing it- instead of treating it like its some sort of silly joke or scandalous or using it to make trauma porn. You can't call yourself progressive while mocking sex work or perpetuating negative stereotypes, especially in lower income communities.

[criticalcrux]

"Ohhh, look at you getting so shy now~ Don't let the crowd give you cold feet, tell us how you really feel."

"In no universe would I deign to fuck you."

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

My bestfriend asked for t4t with bottom Gyomei. And I only live to please her.

AMAB!Reader x AFAB!Gyomei || NSFW || Frotting, awkward first times, kinda crackish lol, and blowjobs(receiving)

The man before you, despite being large as an ox, was as skittish as a rabbit at the moment.

This was by far the most holy foreplay you've ever done. Sitting on your knees, facing each other, with enough room for someone holy in the middle despite your nakedness.

You'd been trying to court this man for weeks, but now that you're here, you aren't quite sure where to take this. He was, in many ways, far different than anyone you've ever been with. He was unusually quiet, and his teary, sightless stare was starting to unnerve you. His hands remained clasped as though in prayer, which made you feel a bit awkward. And not to mention the fact he had several feet on you height wise.

Just as the silence started to make you rethink your decisions, he speaks up.

"I must confess something, [Name]."

You turn your head to meet his gaze, the sudden suspense making your heart rate spike.

"I am... conflicted. Without doubt, I desire you. I wish to bring you pleasure, tonight. But..."

But? You haven't known Gyomei long, but from what you've seen he isn't the type to hesitate long or often. You sit up a little straighter, almost leaning forward in anticipation as the silence drags out.

"...I am inexperienced, in the art of intimacy."

You blink, all your anxiety gone in a poof. All this build up to tell you he's a virgin?

"Oh. Is that all?" You cringe as you say it. That was a bit insensitive.

However, your easy acceptance seems to soothe him some. "Yes. I do hope that won't be a problem for you."

"Not at all. Would it help if I took the lead?"

His smile is warm and sweet, almost out of place for the situation. You can't help but mirror it as he says, "Yes."

He removes his beads from his hands, setting then gently to the side. His hands lie flat on his thighs, and you watch as he takes a deep breath in.... and slowly lets it out.

"I'm ready whenever you are, [Name]."

You huff amusedly at his wording. He said it as though you were about to spar, rather than fuck.

Your hands are small compared to every part of him. There's so much to see and feel, and as you slowly drag your hands up his thighs and across his torso, you try to both see and feel everything. He sucks in a breath when you brush his nipple. You note that, excited to come back to it later.

For now though, you roam. You can feel him relax as he gets used to your touch. You begin to add kisses into the mix– across his chest, his shoulders, up his neck. You anchor yourself to the back of his neck and sit in his lap, laying kiss after soft kiss upon his face.

He's blushing, bright enough that you can see it clearly even in the darkness. It's likely due to the borderline romantic kisses you were giving him. Or maybe he could feel your cock hardening against his stomach with every little content sigh you drew from him.

You can feel him shifting, and soon two large hands have captured your waist in a gentle hold. Theres a shyness to his touch, one you can feel melt slowly into confidence when you kiss his ears, biting the tip teasingly and licking the shell.

"[Name]..."

"Yes?" You're sucking hickies into his neck now. He twitches hard in what you figure is surprise after the first, then tilts his head to further expose his neck to you. "Will you kiss me on my lips?"

You smile into his skin. What a polite request.

"As much as you want me to." One hand slides down his chest and you struggle to not snicker; his heart is beating so fast you could probably hear it if you were quiet enough. What an unexpected cutie pie.

Gyomei's lips meet yours in the middle. They're big like the rest of him, and plush as pillows. They meld to yours perfectly, and are quick to part when you prod them with your tongue. Remnants of dinner can still be tasted on his tongue, along with something deeper, more unique to him. You can't quite describe what it's like, but it makes you feel like you could sit and kiss this man forever.

After not long enough has passed, you force yourself to come up for air. His grip on you tightens immediately and you feel yourself twitch, both of your stomachs now sticky with pre.

He tries to follow you as you pull back. His crying seems to have intensified, the tears now flowing steadily down his cheeks and dripping into your lap.

A crybaby... A man of his status, with his life experience, crying because you stopped kissing him... If he's this dramatic now, his cries later...

A shiver runs up your back at the thought.

"Lay down."

Quick to obey, too. Gods, his expression was so sweet, so open and ready for anything you say.

Laying like this, a sliver of starlight cast his face in a pale glow. The red of his cheeks, the wetness on his lips that were still slightly parted as he panted, even his tears, that now flowed in several directions down his face.

Now, you sit between his legs. They're monstrous, of course. Thick and muscled and sure to crush you if he's one to leg-lock, but you came into this willing to risk that. Before you, his cunt oozes arousal at a steady pace. His clit is visibly throbbing, protruding from beneath its hood almost eagerly.

You weren't by any means small, now. But you had to wonder if the size difference would affect your performance. Would you be able to fold him? Flipping was definitely out of the question. Hell, would you even be able to fuck him as deep as you promised all those days ago?

A change in the air makes you realize you'd been silent for a while now. Gyomei's moved to lean on his forearms, a questioning expression on his face.

"Is everything... to your liking?"

Shitttttt.

It hits you now that he's been blind since birth. He's never even seen himself, and is relying on your judgement. He's trusting you deeply right now, and you're fucking it up.

"Yes, of course, I was just thinking." Well, no shit Sherlock.

He's silent at that. How did you manage to make things worse? There's no salvaging this, you should just go home now-

"Will you describe it to me?"

And just like that, you're snatched from the pits of self pity and placed directly under the metaphorical light of what must be God.

His deep voice was barely a whisper, but his words reverberate across your skin, and echo in your soul. You can fix this. And it wouldn't even be hard, because Gyomei is-

"Beautiful."

Even his breathing quiets when you start to speak.

"Your skin is soft and tan, and your scars are like artwork on the perfect canvas." You lean over him, dragging your hands across his body, stopping only one to finally, blessedly, grope at his tit.

"Despite the hardships that gave you them, they're soft beneath my lips." You kiss him. And then you kiss his scars, every single one in sight.

"You're quite muscular, though I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." You chuckle, but his expression doesn't so much as falter. He's hooked on your every word.

You squeeze his pec, and he inhales sharply. You pinch his nipple, and it knocks all the air from his chest.

"Your chest is soft, almost like a woman's. Your nipples are pink and round, and even long before this, I was enticed by them." Now, you use both hands on him. You twirl his peaks in little circles almost absentmindedly. You pinch one, testing the waters, and are met with his first true moan of the night.

His body jerks a little bit at the pleasure. His head is thrown back, and he sinks till he's fully back on the futon. For a fleeting moment, you're squeezed tight between his thighs, but you wouldn't want to leave if you could. You're rougher with him from then on, and for a while, you just enjoy the pretty sounds he makes as you abuse his chest.

"Does that feel good, Gyomei?" You almost don't recognize your own voice. It's low and sultry, your tone so obviously knowing it'd be offensive in any other situation.

"Yes." His words are accompanied by a whimper as you lick his nipple, applying only teasing amounts of pressure.

"How good does it feel, baby?"

You take it fully into your mouth this time, sucking and biting and making him cry.

You didn't even realize you'd begun to grind against him. He'd pulled his legs back of his own accord, and now his fat pussy lips hugged your cock perfectly, soaking you so thoroughly in his arousal you slid easily against him.

You knew for sure you'd bumped his clit when he yelped, back arching as one hand left his leg to tear at the covers.

You need to tell him. Tell him how sexy he looks like this. How slotting against him was numbing your brain, how the only thing you could hear were his melodic moans. Could he feel your cock twitch when he arched into you just now? What about how hard you were staring at him, at all of him? From the enchanting way pleasure painted itself across his features to the way his hole clenched and leaked everytime you called him beautiful.

You did tell him, all of this and more. Whispered directly into his ear between feverish kisses, not stopping even when they became to much for him to bare all at once. He feels so good in your hands. You tell him that, too.

It ends up being too much for him. He trembles, mouth open wide in a silent scream as he cums on your cock, wetting you, himself, and the sheets. A few minutes pass, and he collapses in your arms.

Loud, heavy breathing is all you hear from him as you caress his skin. You're gentle on the sensitive areas for now. But you can't deny the mischievous joy you get from watching such a stoic man whine every time you flick his clit.

"You looked beautiful just now too." You smirk, laying your head on his chest.

"Please..." He sounds like he meant to come off as exasperated, but was too far gone to do so.

"I can let up on the poetry, but only if you stop looking like it." You wink, and you're pretty sure that if he was anyone else, you would've gotten kicked out.

He sighs instead, and you laugh. Then, his hand clasps your face as though you were someone dear, and you're pulled upwards into a kiss.

Then he flips you, to your surprise. Ever the gentle giant, the seconds you're in the air feel like floating, and you couldn't have landed softer if you'd been in control yourself.

He slides down your body, mimicking you as he drags his own hands down it much the way you did him.

However, he keeps going down, and as you catch the increasingly determined look on his face you realize what he plans to do.

"All my knowledge of this act comes from Tengen and his overly explicit stories... But I wish to please you in turn. I ask you guide me in this too."

You nod, too shocked to speak, then come to your senses and sputter out an "of course!"

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest as his lips press against the underside of your tip. He's got one hand on your thigh, and one on your waist. Thick fingers massage your skin as he kisses down your length, and you don't hesitate to moan loud in encouragement. It feels good, and when his tongue reaches your balls and licks a stripe all the way back up, you make a mental note to kiss Tengen on the lips when you see him. Him and his wives.

His tongue is large and it engulfs your cock like nothing. But he's surprisingly skillful at using it, applying pressure in spots that make your legs jerk and licking ever so lightly in places that have you seeing white.

This, combined with the frotting from earlier, you soon find yourself struggling to not fuck up and into his mouth. He can feel your hips, though. The battle to control yourself is waged right under his fingers, and he's nothing if not a peacekeeper.

His lips leave you with a pop! and you've never been so upset at gaining the ability to breath back.

"You can move, if you'd like. I can take it." He takes your hands in his, moving them to his hair. "I hear that it's enjoyable like this. Please, use me as you desire most."

The last sentence is spoken over your cock like a blessing. You think you're going to marry this man. You might have to, after hearing that.

You lace both hands through his short hair, giving an experimental tug and loving the grunt it pulls from him. You drop one hand to your cock, holding it steady as you slide smoothly past his lips. Once positioned, you plant one foot firm on the ground, lifting your hips slowly at first, and dropping them just as slow.

You set a pace, savoring the sounds his mouth makes as you fuck it, too far gone to be embarrassed by the ones you make. He's taking you so well that you can't help yourself anymore; you thrust deeper. And deeper, and deeper, faster and faster until you're fucking his throat in true. You can feel the muscles of his throat spasming around your cock, gripping you as though trying to keep you there. His tongue was at work too. He struggled to keep up, but his attempts to keep it pressed flat to the underside of your dick had your head spinning.

"Gyomei, hell, in-" You gasp as he groans, the vibrations testing your limits,"-or out? Quickly!"

He makes his decision by opening his mouth impossibly wider and taking you to the base. Lodged deep in his throat, you've no choice but to cum in it, and bless if it wasn't the most mind blowing orgasm you've had in years.

You see white, the world fading to nothing around you as you tremble, his hold the only thing keeping your hips in the air.

Now, it's your turn to suffer as he slowly pulls off of you. Maybe teasing him after wasn't the best thing to teach him on the first day. If you knew you'd be left like this earlier, you would have tread far more carefully.

You can barely find the strength to move, but you've got to see this. It takes all your effort, but it's worth it to watch as he thumbs away a portion of the saliva and precum that dripped down his chin. Despite his sightlessness, he stares at his now sticky thumb with what was no doubt surprise at his own actions.

He soon rises so that his head is under your chin, but you pull him in for a quick kiss, reminiscent of the one he gave you earlier.

When you pull away, more breathless than before, his blush is that of roses at the peak of spring.

"I can go longer, if you wish."

Yeah, you knew he could. You also knew you couldn't. You're half convinced he took your dick with him, and not even seeing it in its rightful place will fully convince you otherwise.

"I think... we'll continue this session...another night."

He smiles, then somehow manages to find another way to shock you tonight.

"It felt amazing.... your mouth on my chest, and everything after."

You blink. There's no way he's answering your love-drunk question from earlier, right?

But he is, and he's dead serious about it too. Beautiful, funny... marriage material if you've ever seen it.

"I'm glad. You did amazing too, Gyomei." He seems a bit lost for words at first, but a small smile graces his lips. You kiss him, taking away the need for anymore talking.

"Do you truly mean it? That you wish to do this again?"

You might die if he gets anymore adorable. But you're quick to respond, because you weren't blessed with hashira stamina, and sleep has been calling your name rather insistently for a minute now.

"Of course. As long as you wish to as well."

You're gone long before he gets the chance to speak back. And when you wake up, he's fast asleep too, still sticky, still naked, and still smiling.

----------

A/N: if this is ooc no it's not I'm literally Koyoharu Gotouge. Now enjoy. And everybody say thanks to bestie for finally getting me to post!!!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I know right it's pretty good! I love it very much

Well, I finished watching Mononoke, including Bakeneko arc from Ayakashi anime.

I accidentally got a new fixation.

And a crackish idea.

--------

It's been three months since BSD Cast got into the Real World. And they finally decided to ask a question, that has been bothering them ever since they got here.

You weren't shocked, when they got here. Like you expected it? They were curious, why you were like that.

-----

Chuuya was the one, who asked. Everyone were so focused on getting an answer, they failed to notice, that you were a bit nervous since morning.

When you heard the question, you froze. You were opening and closing your mouth, trying to make a noise.

Like on a cue, the front door opened. And a voice rang through the halls.

"[Y/N], I have returned! Now, can you explain, how you can afford that..."

Strange man, dressed in a light teal-colored kimono with psychedelic pictures on it, froze in his tracks. He had red markings under his dark blue eyes. He looked at BSD Cast, than at you.

"[Y/N]... Be a dear, and tell me, that you started kidnap people and force them into wearing cosplay, and weren't reading manga before we understand, if you have strange magical powers, that grant self-awareness to fictional characters."

There was heavy silence in the room, before you nervously chuckled.

"Kusuriuri! What a nice surprise..."

Medicine Seller interrupted you.

"I have sent you a message three days ago about me returning home. And you did respond to it."

You nervously chuckled. Again.

"So... How the trip was?"

Medicine Seller rolled his eyes.

"[Y/N]."

You looked down.

"It's a long story..."

-----

In a nutshell, Medical Seller became Self-Aware and got into the Real World before BSD Cast. After some discussion, Medical Seller decided to take a trip around the world, trying to understand, if there are mononokes in Real World, and if you have some sort of powers. You two keep in touch, so, when you moved to the Mansion, you notified him.

[moonlightdancer26]

Sorry for coming randomly and unprompted, but I've seen talks about Severus pairings with the Marauders about Snack (yum ^p^) Snupin (why not?) and eventually Jeverus (the Drarry of the previous generation?) but *never* Peter/Sev!! And I- I don't know why but I have a feeling that it could have some good potential but it also seems crackish and yet I want to talk or read about it, even just a bit xD

Hi!!! I feel like I haven’t seen your blog in a while, it’s good to have you sending asks :)

Also I AGREE, I love how literally all of us think Peter’s the only one out of the Marauders who actually feels normal about Snape, unlike the others lol.

A few years back there was this ongoing joke of “Snettigrew” that Marauder stans created, because they loathe both characters and think they’re unattractive (typical Marauder stans behaviour) so they ship the pair purely as a joke. And I remember thinking.. ok but what if it wasn’t a joke tho 👀

I remember making a list of how they’re foils of one another a while back, I think I have it in notes if you’d like to read it!

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : boyfriend!Han Jisung x softdom!F!Reader TW : heavy smut ; soft dom reader ; little bit of oral ; 0 foreplay ; unprotected sex ; fluffish ; kinda crackish at the end ; Word Count : 2.9k Request : Anonny : The felix scenario u wrote for anon got me in the feels shsksks. I have been obsessed with dom readers lately too. Are you able to write something/anything soft dom for Han too? A/N : ABSOLUTELY!! Also, trying a new topper format, don't know if I like it yet... Lemme know... :')

“He’s not done working yet?” You asked Changbin over the phone, you had been laying in bed for hours, quite uncomfortably as well, waiting for Jisung to return home. You were trying to spice things up, and you had bought a brand new lingerie set, and you had been planning on him coming home and finding you laying in the bed waiting for him while wearing the set. 

Jisung had texted you an hour ago letting you know that he’d be home soon, and after that hour passed without him coming through the front door and not responding to your texts, you had called Changbin in a state of slight panic. “I asked him to check out a song before he left and he hasn’t gotten off the computer since… I’m sorry.” You heard the elevator ding through Changbins end of the line, and then the sound of doors sliding open. “Do you want me to go grab him? I can let him know you’re waiting for him…” 

You hummed softly, getting up off the bed and grabbing one of his hoodies off the back of his desk chair. “No, it’s alright. I just wanted to make sure he eats. I’ll bring his food to him.” You said cheerfully, and while that was part of the plan, you had bigger things brewing in your mind, ideas that had you far more excited than what you were originally thinking. 

Driving to the office, the street lights illuminated the street one by one, like they were following right behind you as the sun set in front of you. Evening was here and he still hadn’t even texted you back, all of the cars that were originally in the parking lot were gone. Everyone had gone home for the evening, everyone except the person that you wanted. 

You quickly walked up to the entrance, letting yourself in with the keycard that had been specifically made for you by Jisung himself so you could visit him at work. It came in handy during times like this, surprise visits were his favorites, and he had no idea that you were coming right now. There was a chill in the air, one that you could feel against your legs that were quite bare considering you had simply thrown on the hoodie that was more like a dress for you, not even bothering with pants considering he was the only person you were going to see. 

The elevator dinged when you pushed the button, already on the bottom floor thankfully, and you quickly climbed in, pushing the button for the floor that you knew by heart that he was on. The ride was quite short, and the doors slid open with one last ding of the bell, one that you hoped he hadn’t heard. It would ruin the surprise if he knew that you were there right now, but luckily none of the doors in the long hallway opened. He must’ve had his headphones on. 

Walking down the long hallway, it was eerily silent, the sound of your shoes against the carpeted floors that would have been silent any other time were now extremely loud. You couldn’t wait to get to the room. You knew you were getting closer when you heard rapid mouse clicks and a couple keyboard clicks following after. As you got up to the door, you could see through the small window, he was sitting at the computer, his head bobbing as he listened to whatever it was that he was working on through the headphones. 

He looked so cute, even from the back, he always did, and you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment before opening the door and walking into the room. Not even that had him turning around though, his head still nodding along to the music as you shut the door as quietly as you possibly could. 

There were no windows in the room, and when you looked around, you could see that his phone had been plugged in to charge beside the couch, out of eyeshot, he probably didn’t even realize how long he had been working, and he definitely hadn’t been up to check his phone for a while. Being as he was your boyfriend, you knew how he got when he was wrapped up with working, there was nothing that could pull him away from it unless it was a legitimate emergency. 

Still, you needed him to take a break, and that’s what you were here for. You walked over to where he sat, keeping your hands in the pockets of the hoodie as you got right up behind his chair, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He let out a quiet shriek as he jumped, the chair swiveling around so fast that he almost kicked you and the headphone cord almost wrapped around his neck. “Baby? What are you doing here?” He asked, his hand over his heart as his breathing slowly returned to normal. “I was just finishing up this song… I’ll be right out. I promise.” He held out his pinky to you, and you wrapped yours around his as you nodded, although you were planning on him coming out a little faster than before the song got done. 

You laid out across the couch, stretching your legs as you watched him return back to work, although he kept one ear uncovered just in case you wanted to talk to him. He truly was the perfect boyfriend, and watching him work was so damn mesmerizing that you almost forgot about what your plan was. Key word being almost. He was mesmerizing, but he was also so damn hot, watching his fingers work along the keyboard had you wanting him even more. “Is it always so hot in here?” You questioned, pulling the hoodie over your head and tossing it to the other end of the couch, hoping that you’d get his attention. 

“Sometimes… I think it might just be that I have so much stuff going right now it’s heating up the room.” He commented back, although he didn’t look up from the screen, as a matter of fact, he leaned closer to it. “You can turn on the AC if you want…” He added, his hand lifting just enough to point to the thermostat on the wall. “I have blankets in here too, so you can make it a little colder than we have it at the house.” 

God, it was so hard to get annoyed with him when he was being so sweet. “Where do you keep the blankets at?” You quizzed as you walked over to the thermostat, wondering if your movement would catch his attention. You were wrong though, there was no reaction, no audible gasp or anything that would let you know that he had seen what you were wearing, or better yet, the lack of what you were wearing. 

“There’s a little cupboard next to the couch… There’s a bunch in there.” He said, and you could hear him smiling, as though just talking to you was enough to bring him joy during this process. Damn him and his adorableness. “Oh… Baby, can you bring me one though, just in case I get a little chilly?” He asked, and you silently celebrated as you scampered over to the little cabinet and pulled out one of the throw blankets that had been neatly folded and placed inside. 

This was your chance, and you held it out in front of you, covering the view, at least until he grabbed it. His hand was outstretched, but his eyes were still glued to the monitor. Your grasp on the blanket was tight though, and when he tried to grab it, you pulled back, finally getting him to look up at you, his eyes wide but his smile even wider as he let out a little chuckle. “I miss you…” You whispered, acting as innocent as possible as you pouted at him. 

“I’m right here, baby.” He cooed, and your fingers loosened around the fabric. The blanket fell, finally unveiling the sheer black lace lingerie set that you had been wanting to show him. “Oh… Shit…” He tongue darted out along his lips as he took it all in. You could see his adams apple bounce, swallowing thickly as his eyes wavered between you and the screen. “I… I miss you too, baby… I’ll be done really soon… promise…” His words were breathy, and it almost seemed like he was upset with himself for having to work. 

“Mmn mmn…” You mumbled, stepping between his chair and the desk and slowly pushing him back, your hands resting on his knees as you leaned over. “I miss you now…” You murmured, your hands slowly moving up along his thighs, stopping at the bulge that was growing harder in his sweatpants. “How much do you miss me?” 

His head fell back against the chair, already panting heavily as you palmed him through his pants. “Fuck… So much, baby… I miss you so much…” His hips instinctively raised up, and he moaned loudly when your hand pressed harder against him. “Such a tease… You know I gotta work…” He whined, although he wasn’t trying to stop you either. His hand moved down over yours, guiding you just how he wants. 

“Oh… But you’ve been working for hours…” You hummed, lowering yourself down to your knees between his legs, your fingers dipping beneath the hem of his pants and slowly lowering them. “All work and no play makes my Sungie very sad…” His cock sprung free from his boxers and you immediately wrapped your fingers around it, stroking him slowly as you gave small kitten licks along his tip, watching through your eyelashes as his head rolled forward to look at you. 

“Shit… Baby… More…” You panted, his hand moving to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and guiding your mouth down around him, moaning loudly when your lips met the base of his cock, your throat tightening around him as you gagged. “Oh… Fuck…” He groaned, your tongue already coated with the salty taste of his precum. 

You pulled back quickly, your lips making a small popping sound as his dick fell from your mouth. “Oh no… I came all the way here… You’re gonna give me what I want.” You said, your grip on his dick tightening as you stroked him faster. His breaths were coming out heavy, his chest rising and falling fast as he watched you, his head nodding in response to your command. 

“Anything… I’ll give you anything you want, baby…” He practically pleaded between whimpered moans. “What do you want me to do, baby? Fuck… Tell me… I’ll do anything…” You smiled sweetly up at him before standing up, pressing a kiss to his already pouting lips before leaning back against the desk. 

“I think you already know what I want, Sungie…” You cooed, and in an instant he was out of the chair, his hands on your hips as he pushed you back further on the desk. You were already soaked, the thin fabric of the thong clinging to your core before he quickly pulled it to the side, his knuckle brushing against your sensitive bud in the process and making you shiver. He was just as impatient as you were, not even bothering to fully undress you or himself as he lined his tip up with your entrance. 

His hands slapped against the wall on both sides of your head as he pushed into you, bottoming out with one quick thrust. “You’re so fucking wet, baby…” He grunted, his forehead falling against yours as heavy pants left both of your mouths, only silenced by the sloppy kisses that he gave you. “God… Don’t know how much I needed you… Feel so good…” He rambled, heavy thrusts pushing you further back against the desk. 

“Just like that… Don’t stop, Ji…” You whimpered, your eyes focused on the way his cock disappeared between your legs, the sight of it turning you on more. He let out a low groan, the sound coming from his chest as his hips picked up speed, the sound of his thighs slapping against yours filling the soundproofed room. One hand came down between your legs, his thumb rubbing quick circles against your clit. “Fuck… Fuck! K-Keep doing that… Gonna… Fuck!” You whined, your moans growing louder as your body began to shake, your slick walls squeezing around him as the knot in your stomach tightened. 

“You like that, baby? You gonna cum?” His thrusts lost their rhythm but got harder, the tip of his cock brushing against that sweet spot deep inside of you causing you to cry out, your nails digging into his back as you came undone around him. Your mixed moans filled the room, hot strings of cum filling you as he continued to thrust, pushing his cum deeper into you. “God damn… Fuck… Shit…” The string of curses spilled from his lips as you both rode your highs until his head fell forward, nestling into the crook of your neck. 

“Mm… Coulda done it in the bed if you would’ve come home…” You murmured as you brushed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. “You gonna be okay to drive home?” You asked, and his head lifted up a little, eyeing you with a smirk. 

“I’ll be just fine driving home… You’re the one that won’t be able to walk when you get off the desk.” He teased, kissing along your collarbone before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “Plus… I like doing it here… Might have to make it a monthly thing.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it too. “Let me just send the file to Chan, and then we’ll go home, okay?” 

You nodded as you scooted off the desk, your legs quite sore, especially your inner thighs that you were sure would be bruised, causing you to stumble as you walked over to the couch. He chuckled softly behind you and you whipped your head around to glare at him. “Asshole…” You muttered playfully, but he simply blew you a kiss as you dropped back down on the couch, pulling the hoodie over your head and yawning quietly, your eyes slowly drooping shut until you fell asleep. 

Last night had been amazing, even the part where he had to help you stumble tiredly to the car. You looked so cute, he absolutely adored you, he loved you with his entire being. He wanted nothing more than to spend the entire morning in bed with you, but his phone was going off nonstop, and if it had been anyone else, he would have ignored it. It was Chan though, and he wanted to know if he liked the edits he made to the song, so he pressed a kiss to your forehead, hoping that you had been conscious enough to hear his promise that he’d be back for lunch. 

When he got to the studio, Chan and Changbin were standing in the middle of the room which, in itself, was quite strange considering at least one of them would usually be sitting in the chair and the other would be on the couch. “What’s up?” He asked as he walked further into the room, seeing that the mp3 file was already pulled up on the computer. “Did you like it?” 

The guys blinked awkwardly, not even making direct eye contact as their faces flushed a bright red. Jisungs heart sped up as he wondered what was wrong. Did they not like it? Was it not good enough? “I should have told you to go home last night.” Changbin said, and while it was an answer, it didn’t give Jisung the answer that he wanted to hear. It was quite vague, and honestly, it had him feeling more anxious than anything. 

“So… She came to the studio last night?” Chan asked sheepishly, his hands fiddling in front of him as he chewed nervously on his bottom lip. Jisung was even more confused now as he slowly nodded his head. “Yeah… We know… You should uhm… You know what… Here.” He said, handing Jisung the headphones and making sure they were on before pushing play. 

Mixed almost perfectly with the beats that Jisung had been working all night on were the sounds of his and your moans, the desk banging against the wall, his grunts and your whimpers. So that’s what they had been talking about. “Oh…” Was all he could say, his entire body heating up with embarrassment, and all he wanted to do was run back home and hide under the blankets and avoid everyone for at least the next three months. 

“I mean, it doesn’t sound bad… I just don’t think STAY would appreciate, you know.” Changbin said, and both Jisung and Chans eyes widened as they looked at him. Jisung looked absolutely mortified and Chan looked completely shocked. “What? I mean, it’s got a nice flow to it and it fits the-” 

“Shut up.” Jisung blurted out, quickly taking off the headphones and shoving them back into Chans hands. “Delete it! Burn it! I apologize for that… I’m gonna go home now. Goodbye!” He quickly ran out of the room, bullets of sweat dripping down his face as he ran to the elevator, his finger slamming against the call button. 

“Oh hey, Han! I heard that-” Felix called out, but before he could finish, Jisung was screaming and squeezing between the barely even opened elevator doors, his screams still heard as they shut behind him and carried him down. “Oh… Welp… I guess he doesn’t want the limited time coffee on the menu… I’ll go to Hyunjin.” 

[one-britt-to-rule-them-all]

Hi!can I ask a really short gn!MC(like 140/4'8) that can actually beat everyone's ass with the side characters?Thx!idk if your ask are open,if not ignore this

They sure are, thanks for sending this in! I’m assuming you mean the four dateables when you say side characters, but if not, feel free to send this in again, so I can rectify! These got long I’m sorry.

Also, these can be read as platonic or romantic. It’s ambiguous!

They react to a really short MC that can kick ass

Genre: SFW, Crackish

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon Ft. Luke

Pronouns: GN (You/Your | They/Them)

CW: | Swearing | Fights |

Requests are OPEN, guys!

Diavolo

• When you first arrived to the Devildom, Diavolo didn't seem to take notice of your short stature — not a single comment. Focused on the excitement of welcoming a human to his realm, he greeted you with open arms, a large grin that could put the bright sun of your realm to shame, and boisterous laughter that filled the council room. Nothing out of character for the prince. He was, truly and solely, basking in the fact that his passion project was about to officially take place.

• It wasn't until one of the brothers present during your arrival — Asmodeus, if he recalled — cooed about your height that he truly took notice. When Diavolo fully examined your appearance... oh, oh.

• You were so tiny. All demons present in the room towered over you by quite a lot, even Asmodeus, despite being the shortest of the seven brothers. Honestly, Diavolo wondered if they had accidentally summoned a teenage human, going as far as to subtly lean towards Barbatos, asking if they had summoned the right human.

• But no, there had been no mistake, you were the human that had been picked for the program.

• As Lucifer took over, explaining the premises of the program, Diavolo’s grin didn’t falter, and he didn’t let it show in his posture or facial expression that his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

• Fear. Worry. Nervousness. Utter bafflement. The man nearly had an existential crisis on the spot.

• How?? How were you going to survive a full year down here? To Diavolo, you looked like a wee, fragile little thing. He was so worried that you’d be targeted by some of the rowdier demons. I mean, Beelzebub could make a midnight snack out of you under five seconds — Diavolo knew that the sixth-born wouldn’t, but still!

• Even though you were under the protection of the seven brothers, worry still ate him up. He would consistently check in with Lucifer, wanting to know how you were adjusting to the Devildom.

• Diavolo didn't know how to handle you at first, and it was quite comical to everyone around him. Should he bend or kneel to your level when talking to you? Should he talk softly, as if speaking to a frightened kitten??

• Nearly looked up 'How to talk to small human' online.

• Really, he was just afraid of frightening you. Diavolo knew just how stuffy and stiff others were around him due to his status, and he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to feel comfortable around him. He was aware of how tall and broad he was, and how intimidating his power and title made him.

• And although he was relieved when he figured you weren't afraid of his presence and even enjoyed his company, he still acted as a worried mother hen. Keeping a watchful eye on you, analyzing every interaction you had with demons that weren't the brothers and keeping tabs on you by asking Lucifer for some reports, or directly checking in on you by text.

• With all of his stalking observations, of course Diavolo caught on to that one demon who looked at you hungrily. He could practically see them salivating at the thought of devouring your soul every time you walked by.

• The demon prince did not like that. Not one bit. Not only was this demon clearly having thoughts about harming a precious exchange student, but they were also thinking of harming someone who had grown to be personally precious to Diavolo himself.

• Luckily for the demon — and your safety — they had never actually been bold enough to attempt harming you, but still Diavolo remained vigilant.

• That luck ran out at one of Diavolo's many parties at the castle. It was a more casual party, and so demons of all social status were invited. Of course, you were there, accompanied by your seven friends and bodyguards closely trailing after you. However, there had been a point where you needed some fresh air to decompress from the crowd, and so, you sneaked away from the brothers, heading to a balcony.

• What you didn't notice that Diavolo had, was that the demon that had been stalking you at RAD was present at the party, and upon seeing you wander away from the party and the brothers, followed you to the balcony with a ravenous look in their eyes.

• And, oh no, that would not stand. With his face hardened and wings flared threateningly, Diavolo took quick and strong strides after the demon.

• He had made it to the balcony at the moment that the demon grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around and baring his fangs at you, muttering about how they 'finally had you where they wanted, and that you smelled absolutely divine.'

• Everything that happened afterwards was a blur; it all happened so fast. Your surprised expression contorted into a hardened glare before you gripped the demon's wrist, turned around as you flipped them over your shoulder in a fluid, effortless motion, and then dangled them in the air off the balcony.

• Diavolo was floored. He watched as the demon shrieked pleas and apologies, begging for you to spare their life, while you remained poised and silent. Eventually, you yanked them back up with enough force that had the demon falling to their knees as they panted from the frightful experience.

• When you noticed Diavolo's presence, you panicked. Bowing to him and spewing apologies about your 'inexcusable behaviour.' He had to raise his hand to stop your tangent, and he swore his heart melted when you looked at him with expectant, glossy eyes.

• It took Dia a while to get his bearings, but when he did, he crossed his arms and let out his signature, boisterous laughter; his once tense posture relaxing.

"Well now, that was most certainly unexpected. And here I was worried that your life would be in constant jeopardy down in the Devildom. Was I ever wrong? There is no need to apologize, you were acting in self-defence."

• The demon who had attempted to attack you tried to sneak away, but they were stopped by Diavolo's hand holding a harsh grip on their shoulder. Although his grin didn't falter, they could feel the sinister aura emitting from the prince.

"I believe that a little chat is in order, don't you think?"

Barbatos

• Barbatos knew what to expect of you when you first came to the Devildom and was most likely the least surprised or affected by your height. Don't be mistaken, he did find you rather cute, looking all meek on the floor as your wide, hesitant eyes glanced at the various demons towering over you.

• And although the royal butler wore his usual nonchalant expression, he certainly felt a tinge of amusement as he watched Diavolo slowly have an internal meltdown, thinking you were a goner before the program even began.

• Barbatos found it funny because he knew.

• After all, he had been tasked with looking into parts of your past and future, gauging you as a person in order to make sure that you were a rightful pick for the program. Barbatos had seen your capabilities within various timelines. He knew that, despite appearances, you were a storm waiting to ravage villages, given the right circumstances.

• While others panicked about your well-being and wondered how long you were going to survive looking as weak as you did, Barbatos held absolutely no fear, for he knew that you would be just fine.

• But he didn't tell anyone. He didn't feel it to be necessary. After all, they would be finding out for themselves rather soon. And wouldn't it be so much more amusing to see Diavolo and the seven brother's faces when it did happen?

• Barbatos, being Diavolo's loyal butler, often listened to the prince rant about how worried sick he was about your safety. To which he would politely nod with a small smile as he tried his best to reassure him to the best of his abilities.

"Fear not, my lord. I'm quite certain that no harm will befall them. In fact, I am confident that they will be okay. Besides, under the protection of the brothers, the chances of them getting harmed are quite slim."

• Of course, although Barbatos knew you could stand your ground in a fight, he still looked after you from afar. He wouldn't let his knowledge of your skills get in the way of fulfilling his duties as one of the demons in charge of your safety. After all, demons were still rather strong and unpredictable creatures, were they not? Even lesser demons could hold their own against a professionally trained human, so yes, despite your strength, he didn't turn a blind eye when it came to your safety.

• When Barbatos caught wind of a classmate of yours harassing you, his ears perked as he kept a watchful eye.

• Barbatos could tell that your patience was wavering with the demon. What had started as petty name-calling had evolved into bumping their shoulder into yours in the hallways, as well as purposefully tripping you. Barbatos could see the way you attempted to restrain yourself, preferring to let Mammon tell off the offending demon while you practised breathing exercises to stay calm.

• Honestly, Barbatos had to tip his hat to your restraint. Many others would have snapped far earlier, should they have been in your shoes.

• But when you finally snapped, well, what a beautiful display that was!

• It happened in Diavolo's office, where he, the prince and Lucifer were holding a small meeting. Barbatos had just sat down after pouring cups of his famous tea when the door to Diavolo's office suddenly burst open. No, that's not accurate. The door had been completely knocked off of its hinges, with the wood bursting into shards under the sheer force of the blow.

• The sudden ruckus had Diavolo and Lucifer springing to their feet as they stared at the demon that lay on the ground, groaning in pain and nearly unconscious. In the doorway stood your form, in all of your 4'8 glory, looking absolutely livid. Behind you was a small crowd of passing demons who gaped at the scene, with Mammon's jaw nearly hitting the floor as he stared at you in wide-eyed disbelief.

• As Lucifer demanded answers from you, Barbatos calmly took a sip of his tea. He knew.

"Oh my! Shall I arrange for repairs right away, my lord? A nurse, perhaps?"

• Upon realizing what had happened, you immediately snapped out of your rage and began profusely apologizing for one, disrupting their meeting; two, busting the door, and three, getting into a fight with another student.

• Hey! In your defence, it was self-defence. You explained that this demon, who had been targeting you for weeks, had decided to grab you by the shoulders hard enough for his claws to draw blood. And so, you responded accordingly: a surprise uppercut to the chin, followed by a swift yet strong kick to the demon's midsection.

• At the revelation, Lucifer could only pinch the bridge of his nose, grey hairs visibly forming, while Diavolo... well, he calmly told you that although you should avoid bringing harm to fellow students, you were just defending yourself. Barbatos could hear the absolute bewilderment in the prince's voice.

• "I must say, (Y/N)," Barbatos said, "While catching a glimpse of your strength was intriguing, witnessing it with my own eyes is far more fascinating. But please, do come to us should you encounter another pest."

"You knew all along, Barbatos?!" Diavolo said.

• The butler could only offer a small, cheeky, close-eyed smile. Of course he knew.

Solomon

• Upon first meeting you at RAD, Solomon didn't have a strong opinion about your height. Of course, he took notice, but he merely glossed over it with a subtle quirk of his eyebrow after looking you up and down. Sure, you were a cute little human, but that was about as deep as his thoughts ran.

• From his perspective, why would your safety be in any kind of danger when you had the avatars and the royals to back you up? Should a problem ever arise, you always had someone trailing behind you, usually Mammon, and he had noticed Lucifer's watchful eye.

• So, no, Sol wasn't bothered by your height, nor was he concerned for you. At least, that was his opinion up until he got to know you better and you managed to earn yourself a soft spot in the sorcerer's heart.

• Don't get him wrong, even after you became close, Solomon still didn't fear for your well-being. After all, you now had one of the most powerful sorcerer added to your roster of bodyguards. No, that wasn't how his behaviour towards you had changed. Instead, your height had become the butt of all his teasing, as Solomon was definitely the type to lovingly bully his close friends.

• Solomon, that shady bastard, is an absolute menace. As a fellow human, he knew all the best 'short people' jokes in the book, and dear God, he would absolutely milk them. He truly revelled in the frustrated expressions you pulled at his continuous teasing. You looked about as threatening as a small child when you looked at him like that.

• "Solomon, could you please give me my DDD back," you said.

"Hm?" He said, pretending to be confused as he dangled the device above his head. "It's right there. Nothing is stopping you from taking it."

• He has bought you kid clothes before as a joke, but the joke was on him since you not only fit in them, but you also looked hecking adorable.

• "Hey, Solomon, I've got a question about this spell. See, this part right here is kinda confusing to me, and — hey! Are you even listening?"

With a confused expression, Solomon looked around the room. "Hm? I could have sworn I heard a voice..."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Oi, down here."

"Ah, (Y/N)! There you are! You're so small, I didn't even see you come into the room."

"Bastard."

• Solomon sometimes pats your head and coos praises in a baby voice whenever you make progress with your magic, and he has definitely taken a liking to bending to your level to make eye contact when he speaks to you. He comes across as condescending, for sure, but you're at the point in your relationship where it's just a 'you and him' thing. If another attempted to do nearly half the things Solomon did on a near-daily basis, there would be hell to pay for the disrespect. 'I can bully you, but others can't,' type of guy.

• But despite it all, Solomon is smart. He knows your limits and boundaries and won't push, and he knows to read the room and wouldn't tease you if he knew you weren't in the best of moods.

• Unfortunately, not all demons in the Devildom had his smarts. Especially not this particular demon, who jumped at every opportunity which sorcerer wasn't by your side to pick at you. They were a demon that you had once been paired with for a spells project, and the bullying had begun then. You believed the catalyst had been when you pointed out a few mistakes in your partner's part of the work. After all, they were a lesser demon of pride.

• Cruel remarks about your species, picking apart your appearance, and even threatening harm on you since you 'looked so breakable.' But the coward would casually walk off with a shit-eating smirk plastered on their face whenever Solomon or one of the brothers walked in your direction.

• Solomon let you vent your frustrations to him about the pest, even offering to put a curse on them. Y'know, teach them a lesson or two. Or five. Who was counting?

• Eventually, you snapped, and Solomon had a front-row seat to the show.

• Class had ended, and as the classroom was clearing out, leaving behind only yourself, Solomon and the demon, the demon came up to you. Seemingly forgetting that Solomon was present at the back of the class, they began taunting you, which you chose to ignore. Not even gracing them with a glance, you acted as though they didn't exist, which most definitely shot an arrow through the demon's pride.

• When the demon held your wrist in a vice grip tight enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise, Solomon was ready to throw hands. However, it seemed as though you had beaten him to the punch.

• Solomon watched, utterly fascinated, as you reeled your unoccupied hand back, delivering a sucker punch that had Sol wincing for the poor soul on the receiving end.Then, in an astounding display, you lifted the demon above your shoulders as though they weighed nothing before slamming them into the ground. Adding salt to the wound, a swift kick to their ribs had a sickening crack resonating throughout the classroom.

• Well, colour him pleasantly surprised! And a little turned on, not gonna lie.

• Solomon followed you out of the class, stepping over the demon who was writhing in pain on the ground, but not without muttering a few words underneath his breath.

• "Now, where did such a little human such as yourself conjure up so much power? Absolutely fascinating, dear."

• Let's just say that Solomon was counting his blessings that you were on his side, and that he had never pushed you over the edge. In no way did he want to be on the receiving end of such a smackdown. But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to see this side of you again. For research purposes, of course.

• And that demon? Well, let's just say he was stuck in the bathroom with a rather violent stomach bug for a good week straight. Strange.

Simeon

• Sweet Simeon truly didn't want to underestimate you. He didn't want to offend you by doubting your capabilities, but... well, he just couldn't help it! You were such a sweet human with the purest of souls.

• A caregiver by nature, Simeon immediately worried about your safety. There was no doubt in his mind that your height, making you look as meek and fragile as it did, would make you a prime target for hungry demons looking for easy prey.

• Sure, you were taller than Luke was, but Luke had the saving grace of being an angel, therefore, not completely defenceless. You, on the other hand, were a human with no magical capabilities.

• He trusted that the brothers would keep you safe, but what if you were caught during a split-second where you were left unattended? That's all it would take for a demon to jump you.

• And so, you had gained yourself a guardian angel who silently yet aggressively fretted over you. If a brother couldn't accompany you to class, he happily fulfilled that role, even waiting for you to be safely seated before taking his leave. He constantly asked how you were doing, trying to subtly gauge whether you had gone through some troubling experiences. You did tell him anything negative, if you had, Simeon wasn't sure if he would take it up to Diavolo and Lucifer, or if he would confront the problem himself.

• Nevertheless, Simeon made sure that all demons knew that, not only were you under the protection of the avatars, but also a high-ranking angel. Considering angels could easily go toe to toe with demons, most seemed to get the memo, not glancing in your direction whenever Simeon hung with you.

• Of course, there was the occasional demon who seemed to think that the small human was fair game to harass. If Simeon ever caught wind of it, he'd help you defuse the situation peacefully, protectively standing in front of you as he cast a disappointed glance to the offending demon. Simeon had this sort of presence where one would shrivel in shame if the angel looked at them in disappointment.

• Thankfully, none had attempted to bring physical harm on you, and Simeon sincerely prayed that it would never happen. It was bad enough to him that you had to deal with the occasional insult, he'd never be able to forgive himself if the human he had grown so fond of got hurt while on his watch.

• Simeon was pretty stoked when Luke joined him on the '(Y/N) protection squad'. One more friend and bodyguard! Because despite being a small child, Luke was still an angel with holy abilities.

• Besides, Simeon thought that it was just so sweet, seeing Luke get all protective over you. The young angel seemed to see you as an older sibling, and that made Simeon's heart melt.

• In turn, you became quite protective of Luke yourself. Simeon didn't blame you, as he knew that the majority of humans had quite the instinct to keep children safe from harm.

• However, you tended to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of defending Luke's honour. Sure, you were only biting back with colourful insults whenever someone picked at Luke, but it definitely made Simeon's hair prematurely go grey. After all, some demons were quite easy to set off, and he didn't want you to accidentally start a fight.

• He cradled your hands into his, soothing your knuckles with delicate strokes of his thumbs.

"My dear, I very much appreciate you looking out for Luke, but you mustn't endanger yourself. Please, promise me to watch out for yourself. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you. And I'm sure Luke feels the same way."

• That pleading, worried look in Simeon's eyes broke you, and you didn't have the heart to argue with him.

• Things had settled down for a while after Simeon had a talk with you; you opted to reach out to him if you felt Luke was being treated unfairly instead of meddling. Which Simeon very much appreciated. You were still watching over Luke, but in a way that didn't compromise your safety. Everyone wins!

• Of course, just when things had settled down, you threw Simeon for a loop.

• It was the first time a demon had attempted to bring physical harm to Luke. Students were sidestepping as the poor, crying child ran at full force down the hallway as a lesser demon chased after him.

• Searching for a saving grace, Luke spotted you walking his way, and without thinking, he immediately darted behind you for security and comfort. You, being you, didn't ask questions as you saw the demon approaching. Your brain went, 'child in danger, must protect child.' And so, consequences be damned.

• Simeon was sprinting down the hall with all his might after hearing gossip which involved a demon chasing the young angel. He felt his heart stop as he saw both you and Luke standing in the demon's path, the latter not stopping in his chase, even with you standing protectively in front of Luke. To the demon, that was just an extra target, after all.

• But then, Simeon stopped dead in his tracks, staring wide-eyed and gasping as he saw your next move. With deadly precision, you had grabbed the demon's wrist, and with force he didn't know humans could even achieve, swung your arm behind you, effectively throwing the demon into the distance. There was a loud thud where the demon's body landed, followed by a pained grunt.

• Regaining his bearings, Simeon ran to you and Luke before the demon could get back up. He didn't think that he would. Those cracks sounded painful. He pulled you and Luke into an empty classroom, away from the public eye. While you were busy fussing over Luke, trying to comfort him and hush his tears, Simeon didn't know who to fuss over for a moment, still gobsmacked from what he had just witnessed.

• Eventually, he joined you in the Luke comfort squad. You both looked like a couple of worried parents after a close call with their child.

• "Haha. Forgive me, (Y/N). While I was busy worrying myself sick over you, you were perfectly capable of holding your own all along. I misjudged you; that was impressive. But please, never again, I nearly had a heart attack."

• When Luke had calmed down, he became your number one fan. Seriously, Simeon and Solomon would be hearing about it for the next month. Not that Simeon was any better; he'd be praising you for a lifetime.

• Don't judge a book by its cover, huh?

[olderthannetfic]

I know meta is allowed and welcome on AO3, but what about meta that is only partially supposed to be serious and partially meant to be a bit crackish or written with the author being very aware that they're really just grasping at straws and absolutely overinterpreting this specific thing just for the fun of it? Also, does one usually put quotes, gifs and other kinds of citations into it and link stuff like for example a script draft that was slightly altered in the episode itself but looking at it still may give room for specific interpretation etc.?

And another question from that: if a fanfic is specifically inspired by such a final draft, does one link to the draft (on a freely accessibly site that is non-commercial afaik) or is it better to just mention that you were inspired by a specific scene in the draft that didn't make it onto the screen?

--

Yes, some meta cites sources. No, your meta doesn't have to be serious. What it should be is non-ephemeral.

Put whatever you want in your author's notes. If you find it relevant, mention it.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Hiya! :D

Do you read go fanfiction? If you do, can you recommend some of yours favorite?

And also your my favorite good omens blog, thank for making my days and being spoiler free!🙌

Hiya! :) Thank youu ❤. I do read fanfics, but I don't read those Good Omens ones yet because I am so far happy with the Crowley and Aziraphale in my head (can't really explain it well, sorry :D), I have written some tho, here if you're interested :):

 I mainly write humour and fluff, if you read any I hope you enjoy :):

Anthony Janthony Crowley - my first a bit crackish fic written before the show came out but inspired by some things from trailers and interviews - mainly Crowley’s middle name - where Crowley picks Janthony and Aziraphale is trying to guess it for centuries :).

Crowley doesn’t read books - fluff and humour fic inspired by Crowley’s ‘I don’t read books.’ in the show and my own problems where is Aziraphale trying Crowley to read books for millennia, there is a twist :).

Five times Warlock wasn’t happy about being kidnapped and one time he was - Warlock centered fluff and humour fic where from a small baby he gets kidnapped and is always saved by his Nanny and gardener and what happens when he is kidnapped and they are no longer around :).

The Ineffable History of Ducks - fluff and humour fic centered on the ducks in the St James’s Park who are observing Aziraphale and Crowley for centuries (alternatively four times Crowley and Aziraphale helped their ducks and one time the ducks helped them) :).

The Shared Sigil - fluff and humour post-Apocaflop fic centered on angels and demons creating conspiracy theories about Aziraphale and Crowley and coming to the conclusion that the two of them are married :).

Angel, Serpent and the Avengers - MCU fluff and humour crossover where Aziraphale and Crowley (and their rat Attouile) get into another dimension where their power don’t work and make friends with the Avengers and Loki. Still being written, first 4 chapter out :).

TinyOmens - visual comics of Funko Aziraphale and Funko Crowley shenanigans :).

[whipitgod]

Friendly

Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

oneshot - wc: 2.2k

summary: Post Fall- Will wants to make some friends and Hannibal thinks this is a terrible idea. part of the 'Pushed In' universe but it's not necessary to read those to understand this one

warnings: language, canon typical murder, crackish

a/n: Thank you for all the love on the last few oneshots!! i have a destiel oneshot as well as a part 2 to the stucky oneshot coming sometime in the next week so stay tuned for that!! as always, if you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Don’t think you can get out of this conversation by stabbing me Hannibal.” Hannibal looks down at the knife he had picked up when Will had brought up the topic of making friends, weighing his options. 

Hannibal squints slightly at the man in front of him, deciding whether or not he should try anyway, “It would certainly postpone the conversation,” He sets the knife down after saying this, glancing around a bit, his eyes landing on the door that led to the backyard; he could always make a run for it.

“Jesus Christ Hannibal, you’ve never had an issue with being social in the past,” Will takes a step closer to cannibal, hands raising in a placating gesture when he sees Hannibal's hand twitch slightly towards where the knife sits on the counter, “I mean, normally I'm the one who has to be forced to meet people.”

“I just don’t think making friends is all that pertinent at the moment dear,” Hannibal pauses to scowl at the way Will had grabbed the knife when he wasn't paying attention, “We arrived here so recently, I think it's fair that we give ourselves time to settle.”

Will rolls his eyes at the man, “We’ve been here for almost two years, I think we’ve had plenty of time to settle.”

Hannibal grabs another knife from the block of the counter causing will to send a pointed look at the man, “I’m serious Hannibal, you should know by now that a stab wound won't deter me from talking to you about this,” the man drops the knife back into the block, “If anything it’ll make me more annoying about it.”

Hannibal sighs at Will's words, knowing the man is right, “Fine, if it makes you stop bothering me while I make dinner I will attempt to make friends.”

Will offers Hannibal a smile at this, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the man's lips before turning and making his way out of the room, “We can go into town tomorrow!” the words are called out over his shoulder as he enters their bedroom. 

It’s not that Hannibal didn’t like meeting people or that he was bad at it, quite the opposite actually; Hannibal had always been likable, navigating social situations with a lot of ease. The issue isn’t with the social interactions, in all honesty he wouldn’t mind having a few acquaintances; the issue is that Will was the one requesting it. The man can’t help but wonder if Will is already growing bored of him; why else would the ex-profiler be so adamant on meeting new people. Hannibal reasons that it’s fair for Will to be growing restless with the lack of human interaction that doesn’t revolve around Hannibal, the man had been almost entirely cut off from social interactions save for rushed conversations with shopkeepers when they venture into the nearest town.

In all honesty the main reason Hannibal didn’t want to make friends was because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time they had both tried to make friends. They had decided to try and make friends separately a few months prior, the problem with that was the way that had both reacted to the new people in the other's life; they had both flown off the handle with jealousy. The whole event had ended in two murders and some, admittedly, amazing makeup sex. Hannibal stops chopping as he recalls the events from a few months before.

Will was going to kill him; Hannibal wasn't going to be able to get the blood out of the carpet by the time the younger man returned home, and when Will finds out that Hannibal had killed the only friend the man had managed to make during their stay in Argentina he wasn’t sure how Will would react. He was sure the reaction wouldn't be positive, though the man had forgiven him for worse Hannibal was worried this might be the straw that breaks the camel's back. He’s knelt on the carpet next to the large blood stain patting at it with a damp cloth, he hasn’t even had a chance to move the man's body yet and Will would be home at any moment.

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he had ever been this neurotic in his killing endeavors, he hadn’t even had the intention of killing the man that day. The man had been introduced to him by Will a few weeks earlier, his name was Marcus, and he was new to Argentina with no family; he had said he was looking for a fresh start and Hannibal reasons to himself that some might consider death a form of ‘beginning’. Marcus had stopped by in hopes of talking to Will about a fishing trip they had planned, and the man had frowned slightly when he was told that Will wasn’t home before fixing his expression into a polite smile and attempting to spark up a conversation with Hannibal. The man was polite and for the first time ever that made Hannibal dislike him even more; The man being respectful as he asked Hannibal about his hobbies and interests. The conversation had ended up steering back towards the topic of Will; Marcus singing the man’s praises, talking about how kind and funny Will was.

One minute the man had been talking to Hannibal in the living room and the next minute he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood; Hannibal is a little fuzzy on the details of how it all unfolded. He remembers feeling overcome with jealousy, a feeling he historically had not handled well, and he remembers feeling the weight of the stone lion statue in his hand as he cracked it against the man’s skull, He remembers setting the lion statue back on the mantle of the fireplace before realizing exactly what he had just done. Will was going to be furious, an emotion that Hannibal loathed to have directed towards him, and he doubts the man will be willing to hear him out on this one.

He stops his work on the stain to run his clean hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen into his face, he heaves a sigh before beginning his ministrations again. He freezes when he hears the door open, taking a second to gather his thoughts and say his prayers before he has to face Will.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” there goes any hope Hannibal had that the conversation would be calm, “really Hannibal? You couldn't have found anyone else to kill?”

Hannibal hasn’t looked up from where he’s still knelt on the carpet, his knees are starting to ache, but he stays resolutely looking at the stain in front of him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finds the words he wants to use, “I didn’t plan this one.” Not his best defense ever, that's for sure.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Will's voice is loud, and his tone is sharp, “I finally made a friend after living here for over a year, and you brain him the first chance you get?” 

“I truly am sorry dear, I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Oh my God you were jealous.” It's not said like an accusation, Will sounding very resolute as he says it, “You couldn't stand the idea of someone else making me happy.”

“I admit that I am not handling your newly formed relationships well,” Hannibal looks down at where his once white shirt is now covered in splotches of red that are already starting to turn a rusty brown, “am I not enough for you Will?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” at Hannibal’s lack of response Will lets out an incredulous laugh, “it’s normal for people to hang out with people that aren’t their partners Hannibal.”

“We are anything but normal dear.”

“Cut the dramatics, we are supposed to look normal. We have to seem normal, so people don’t start questioning what the two reclusive men living out in the forest get up to in their spare time.”

“I’ve made a lot of effort to look normal, I have dulled my wardrobe significantly!” Hannibal huffed an annoyed sounding laugh, “I mean dear god Will what else do you want from me?”

“Okay first of all, you didn’t ‘dull your wardrobe’ there just isn't anyone nearby that can tailor you ridiculous suits,” the cannibal makes an affronted noise at this, muttering a disbelieving ‘ridiculous suits’ to himself, but will continues on like the man hadn't said anything, “and I don’t know Hannibal, maybe you could start with not killing the select few people that I can manage to form friendships with!”

“I told you that I was sorry,” Will barks out a sharp laugh at this but Hannibal ignores him, “and I told you that I didn't plan this, I really don’t know what came over me.”

Hannibal stands slowly, knees cracking with the movement; he’s getting older, and he’s reminded of it every time he sits in one place for too long. Once he’s on his feet he chances a look at Will, and he freezes at what he sees.

“Why are you bloody dear?”

“This isn’t about me, Hannibal.”

Will was covered in smears of blood; Hannibal can make out a few distinct bloody handprints on the man's arms. The blood was everywhere, the cannibal would guess it's even in Will’s hair; the remnants of blood splatters remain on his cheeks, smeared around slightly from what Hannibal assumes was a failed attempt at cleaning it up.

“Whose blood is that Will?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was mine?”

“No.”

Will curses softly to himself, pushing his hair out of his face, “You’re going to have to find a new person to get your wine from.”

“You killed Victoria?” It’s Hannibal’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh, “and you had the nerve to react to my behavior the way you did?”

“I didn’t flirt with Marcus.”

“I don’t recall flirting with Victoria.”

“She flirted with you, and you played into it!” 

Hannibal scoffs, “I did nothing of the sort! I was simply being ‘friendly’ like you asked me to.”

“Oh, you were ‘friendly’ alright! Apparently, you never mentioned me to her because she seemed awfully surprised that your husband was there to talk to her.” Will was practically shaking with anger, the rage from earlier when he had killed the woman returning in waves.

“We never discussed anything that personal Will, we merely talked about wine and literature.” Hannibal reached up to place a placating hand on the man's shoulder, but Will smacked it away.

“You couldn’t be bothered to mention the fact that you had a husband to the woman that all but asked you to strip every time you saw her?”

“She was being kind.”

“Way too kind.”

“So, you killed her?” Hannibal isn’t necessarily upset at the turn of events; he’ll admit that he had grown a bit fond of the conversations he shared with the woman, but the news of her death doesn’t stir up many emotions.

“Of course I did! You should know by now that I’m not the most stable man Hannibal,” Will pauses for a moment, remembering what had led them to this conversation, “let’s not forget that you did the same thing,” Will motions to the corpse laying on their living room floor, “and at least I didn’t ruin the carpet during my murder.”

“Your murder seems a bit more premeditated than mine, and a lot bloodier.”

“I know a cannibalistic serial killer isn’t judging the gruesomeness of my murdering.”

“I’m simply observing-”

“Oh, I’ll give you something to observe-”  

“Please Will, my head is starting to hurt,” The fight is leaving Hannibal quickly, the events of the day starting to catch up to him, “I need to do something about this body,” He pauses for a second, “You don’t have Victoria in the trunk of our car do you? It’s a nightmare to clean.”

“She’s at the bottom of the lake, I didn't want to look at her any longer than I had to,” the younger man sighs and rolls his shoulders, the day was starting to weigh on him too, “This conversation isn't over, but let's put a pin in it while we deal with the dead guy.”

Hannibal nods at the man's words, turning towards where Marcus's body lays, “Heads or tails?”

“You’re not funny Hannibal.”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the hand that Will places on his shoulder, his head snapping up to meet the man's curious gaze, offering him a small smile.

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Hannibal’s mind flashes back to Will’s earlier statement about how stabbing him wouldn't end a conversation, and even with that thought present he still thinks about trying. Hannibal didn't want to admit to Will that he was worried that another attempt at forming friendships would end with just as much blood as the last attempt. He also wasn’t keen on the idea of admitting that he was jealous, “I’m great.”

“You don’t look great, you look almost constipated.”

The comment earns a scowl from Hannibal before the man sighs and turns to face Will, “Do we have to make friends?”

“Yes,” Will takes in the state of Hannibal, the man looking a little queasy at the thought of Will forming bonds with other people, “and we aren't allowed to kill them this time either, I finally got that carpet replaced.”