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ctrl-alt-bucky · 3 months ago

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♡ Tease ♡

A Simon Riley x Female Reader Drabble

You're in an alleyway with Ghost after teasing him in a bar all night. He takes what he deserves.

This is just PWP with a bit of kink thrown in for ✨ spice✨ Take caution if you don't like mild cnc and public play. This came out to ~1.3k words, so idk if that qualifies as a drabble, but oh well lmao. Hope you enjoy!

It's cold. It's dark. You're in an alleyway. And Simon can't handle a goddamn second longer after the shit you just pulled inside that bar. All flirty and skimpy, wearing nothing beneath that tight dress, those neat stockings. He saw every curve, every dip that made his hands itch to trace, to hold— to grab tight as he took what so rightfully belonged to him.

So Simon does what any soldier does when fighting an internal battle.

Your back meets the cold brick wall of the alley. Confused, you open your mouth to question him, but Simon is impatient, hiking up your dress and shoving his gloved palm over your mouth. "Shh baby, you know what you've done. You knew this would happen, huh?" He punctuates his words by pressing his hips against yours. You can feel how hard his is— how big he is, God, as if he wasn't already intimidating enough.

Simon's eyes crinkle, grinning beneath his mask. "Yeah..." He drawls, "Look at you," and drags his eyes over your body for a moment, taking you in. You can't help but follow his gaze, but it's difficult. You're embarrassed. Ashamed. You feel heat in your gut, in your face, prickling the back of your neck. You're so turned on you feel heady with it, but this is new, and this is Simon of all people. Sure, you two had a long history of cat and mouse, chasing each other's tails before, during, and especially after missions. You knew every button to press and Simon knew how to dish out the right punishment for it. But it never went further than eager hands and make out sessions behind the closed door of a closet. He's fingered you, ate you out— hell, spent an hour using your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, all because you decided to get mouthy over comms during a mission.

All this, but there was one line he never crossed; One line that was never discussed, but was understood from the beginning:

He never fucks you.

Simon looks determined to cross that line now, out here in the open streets of whatever city you've ended up in now. You can't remember through all the haze and non-stop travelling. All you know is how intense Simon's eyes are when they finally meet yours once more.

His hand is rough as it pulls your panties to the side. The cold air hits your heat, and you shudder and bite your lip to conceal a whimper. Simon doesn't seem to like you holding back. He grunts and rubs the tips of his pointer and middle finger over your clit, the worn edges of his fingerless gloves adding a dirty sensation that makes your thighs clench together.

Simon chuckles, the sound deep and amused. Fucking bastard. He brings that hand up to your mouth and looks at you expectantly. You're a little confused to what he's asking, but then he says, "Got a mask on, innit?" and you realize he wants you to take the glove off. With your teeth.

Face burning hot, you nod and carefully bite down on the frayed edge of the fingertip, the same finger that rubbed against your embarrassingly slick heat, and Simon's chest practically rumbles as he slides his hand free and brings it back between your legs, his other hand hooking underneath your thigh to bring it over his hip. He's strong when he guides you. Even stronger when he's chasing after something he wants.

"Simon—" You try, muffled, but he shushes you, uncharacteristically soft and sweet. His fingers dip down to your hole and you squirm as he gathers slick around his digits and pushes two inside right away. Your eyes close and your head tips back against the rough brick, heart racing. There's sounds of people, and you become suddenly aware that their voices aren't too far away. Just right around the corner, moments away from walking past and seeing you pinned to the wall with your panties to the side like a whore.

You expect it to deter Simon, but in fact, it only makes him more possessive.

“Quiet.” He commands sternly. You begin to shake your head, panicking about the potential of being found like this, but Simon stops you. His gaze is intense, a silent threat to not challenge him as he positions his hips and—when did he unzip his pants?— pushes into you in one steady thrust, stretching you open to the point of pain. It aches, but it's a good ache. A low groan follows the movement, and the sound makes goosebumps rise across your arms and neck.

You bite down on the glove still dangling from your lips to stifle yourself as he begins to pump his cock in and out. He wastes no time at all in building a pace. It's nearly brutal from the start, his hips meeting yours with lewd, wet slaps, balls heavy and hot against you every time he drives in to the hilt.

Simon grunts and covers your mouth once more, using the added layer of the glove to keep you quiet. You don't realize it until then, that you're whimpering over and over again; Like a broken record, like a dumb cock-drunk slut. His cock pushing in, hard and insistent, his hips angled to hit your spot each time, his hand grasping your thigh while the other one keeps you from screaming— it's so much. It's too much. It's so fucking good—

Your thighs begin to tremble. You feel a rise of heat and shame in your core. You're too easy, and you know it. Despite being afraid of getting caught, despite the unspoken truce you've made together, you are nothing more than an eager pair of holes that gets off on giving yourself to Simon. Strangers be damned, you needed this, and Simon was the only one who knew how to give it to you just right.

“Good girl.” Simon's voice rasps in your ear. His breath is hot through the mask and slightly visible from the cold air surrounding you both. “Just like that.” And his hand grips your thigh tighter, his body pushing against you harder, until you barely feel yourself touching the cold, dank alleyway ground.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tip your head back and practically wail as the pleasure takes over. Simon doesn't slow down for a single second, even as your pussy spasms around him uncontrollably. You don't even care about your pride now. You continue to whine and babble beneath Simon's hand— and he doesn't care either, encouraging your moans with low breaths of praise and curses and— fuck, you can feel it, the way his cock pulses inside of you; how it drives in deep and stays there, pumping you full until it gushes around his length and dribbles down your inner thigh.

Simon's chest rises and falls with deep breaths while yours heaves for air. Gently, he drops his hand from your mouth, taking the glove along with it. He sets you down until your feet are flat on the ground again, and you vaguely hear the sound of a zipper before his hand returns to pull your panties back over your dripping cunt. He puts on the glove, flexing the fingers to make sure it's properly fitting, each movement quick and precise; a routine.

“C’mere,” Simon murmurs softly. Warmth covers your shoulders and chest, his jacket encapsulating your upper half. He pulls you to his chest and presses a kiss to the side of your head before adding in a low whisper, “Let's get outta here, hm?” And because your head is fuzzy and your body is recovering, you nod.

Gently, Simon wraps an arm around your waist and guides you out of the alley. Right before you both step onto the dimly sidewalk, he murmurs to you one last thing:

“That's my good girl.”

This is my first time writing fempov, so go easy on me ;-; Asks are open for any requests btw! If I like your prompt enough, it might end up as a drabble on here ;) Also if you want to read this/support me (and my other works), here's the link to my AO3! ♡♡♡

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doyoulikethis-videogame-song · 1 month ago

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Ask Masterpost 1/25/2025

I will be answering the BLOG RELATED asks that I have received since opening my inbox. Lucky number three this finally becomes consistent :).

I would like to state here that even though I don't respond to them (I'm persnickety about keeping ask spam low) I very much appreciate everyone's well wishes and compliments and gratefulness for this blog. I screenshot all of them and keep them in a folder. Thank you so much and I hope you keep having fun :).

@forrest-knight asked: Hello! I am here to ask for some clarification regarding the rules: “Songs from multimedia series that are primarily NOT video games (such as the Homestuck minigames, for example) will not be accepted.” I’m a bit confused with this rule, does this mean we’re not allowed to submit songs from licensed video games (aka games made for non video game media), even if the song is originally made for the game (ex. To The Moon from the DuckTales NES game). Or does this rule is intended for something completely different? *please note that I’ve never read homestuck, so this might relate to my confusion Anyways, thank you so much for doing this! And I hope you have a great whatever time you are reading this!

SO Homestuck was the only example I could think of at the time as a series that actually did this. I was specifically thinking about franchises/series/works that 100% did not start off intending to be a video game but, in the nature of being a multimedia series, added video game minigames or mobile games as it developed.

This is referring to things like homestuck (a webcomic that featured small browser/flash games within the comic), many idol gacha games** (hypnosis mic, love live), etc. This does not include series that were 'completed' (loosely used since I know many of these frequently get universe-expanding sequels and threequels and whathaveyou) and then had video game spinoffs, such as Star Wars, Marvel, etc.

** exceptions being tracks that are exclusively used in the video game itself, such as BGM.

I know this rule is probably the most complicated one and I'm still trying to figure out how to word it clearly and precisely LMAO. Fundamentally it comes down to intent, which is why I'm still on the fence some things like tracks used exclusively in promotional materials and things like that.

That being said: if the song is originally from a video game as in literally you can hear it while you are playing the video game you are totally in the clear

And according to your second ask (I won't name the songs in case you want to submit them): The one made for and coming from the NES game is fine (of course), AND the one that is the 8-bit version of the NON-VGM one is ALSO FINE, because it was REMIXED for the NES game :).

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT PUTTING DISCLAIMERS ASKING PEOPLE NOT TO SPOIL THE SONGS**

The blind listening and polling period is just for fun! If someone really likes a song and wants to know what it is/where it's from, PLEASE feel free to tell them!!! And PLEASE always enter the notes with the expectation that there may be song spoilers!!

I will ask that you keep it in the TAGS rather than the comments or reblogs (you're more than welcome to DM people the title if they ask), just for the sake of people who might want to discuss the song without spoilers. I'll put that in the pinned and the (eventual...) formal rules.

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What's up! New here so sorry if this has been asked before but has the exact same song been submitted more than once before? Like it's clearly different people but the same song keeps getting submitted over and over again?

Ever since Mod Rae cleared duplicates I have no idea anymore, BUT I know there have been a lot of different submissions for a few select Disco Elysium songs. That doesn't shock me because I know it's got a cult following here :).

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do you get a lot of the same people in ur notes or is it like. a few of the same and then it branches out to fandoms where people know the song? or do u not pay attn to your notes at all (also fair)

I do read the notes (when I remember)! I really like hearing people's opinions, and I always look through the tags on songs I know (I find it really hilarious seeing 'is this dark souls?' 'is this nier?' on any orchestral ever). There are a lot of familiar faces but I'd say the majority for any given poll are new or sparsely in the notes :).

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Would you ever consider adding two more "i dont feel strongly/have an opinion" options to the polls? Specifically, "it sounds familiar and i dont have an opinion" and "ive def heard it before and dont feel strongly/have an opinion"? Of course, if theres a specific reason why you dont add those two as options, feel free to ignore this, ty <3

I've considered this -- but honestly, that button has always existed as more of a 'I just want to click a button' option than an actual datapoint I'm looking for (I think I might have answered an ask similar to this before but I don't remember so I'm answering it again LOL). When that option dominates, I always read the notes and tags for discussion and I'd encourage anyone who is genuinely interested to do the same. Actual complex opinions, of course, cannot be captured with the limitations of preset poll options anyways LMFAO.

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@mkcannothelpyou asked: I'm beginning to wonder if spacing series severely further apart and prioritising picks further down the queue that aren't as represented would make for a more interesting order - as it is, it feels like you can more or less still track what people submitted and when, with waves of series (and closely related works within those series, at that) coming in conspicuously densely. Hearing the same style only days apart might impact poll results for the negative as time goes on.

This was mostly the fault of me allowing people to submit multiple songs at once, leading to songs with similar qualities (as they are all liked by one person with a particular taste) being grouped together, even if they're from different series. I limit submissions to one per period now so this will not be a problem in the future :').

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@the-mayor-of-space asked: how long do submissions typically stay open once they are open?

I originally wanted to have them permanently opened (thinking people wouldn't mind waiting for their submissions) until I got an insane amount of submissions, severely underestimating the popularity of this blog. I then tried to do a 24 hr submission period, and then a 12 hr submission period, but both of these still ended up with a fuck ton of submissions so the current answer is 'They're closed until I can figure out something proper'...

I don't want purging the existing submissions to be on the table, but if I get to the 1 year anniversary of this blog without a better option I might have to go that route -- in which case I'd probably publish all the unposted options so people know if theirs was cut so they know to resubmit it if they're still interested.

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT HOW FAR BACK THE SUBMISSIONS ARE**

WE'RE FINALLY IN AUGUST!!!!!!!!

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are fan/non official/non licensed versions of songs allowed? because i am 100% certain #293 is a fan made remaster and medley arrangement (im not the submitter but i know the song well - i found the youtube video the audio is from and the comments from OP confirm it is a fan remix). if they are, that's totally cool, but i couldn't find anything in the submission rules about it. i dont intend this ask to be rude or hostile at all, and either way im grateful you've created such an active community with this blog!

They're not really allowed unless they're from a mod or fangame. Since it's a fanmade remaster it's kind of towing the line, so I'm not inherently against it, but it might end up just being a highly situational thing.

Note: I'm not familiar with Fire Emblem at ALL but I knew this particular song was from an older game, which is why I wasn't opposed to posting the remastered version. In any future submissions I'd appreciate if this sort of thing were indicated just in case! I will add that to the submission guidelines :). And of course if there's a better way to go about this (i.e if the game is like, 30+ years old fanmade remasters/upscales are permitted or something like that) I will make sure that's made clear as well :).

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sorry if you've answered this before but I was just wondering, are people allowed to submit spoiler songs for the polls? like final boss songs and songs from endings and secret endings

Absolutely! But I think for all future submissions (this doesn't apply now since there's a huge backlog) I might put a hold on the submissions of OSTS from new games for like 1-2 months (i.e No Mario Kart 9 OSTs until two months after the game drops!) so people who are playing/going to play the game have time to play it before hearing the OSTs unprompted.

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@its-daisukenojobito asked: Just out of curiosity, do you prefer the more obscure submissions, or more well known? I feel like for the sake of reach, the more well known the better, but as a participant, i love being able to hear something I wasn't expecting, and knowing it!

I have no preference, but it's always fun hearing good stuff from games and series I've literally never heard of!

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@venonomnomicon asked: am i allowed to DM to check the status of a submission? it was a couple of months ago though i do respect it's probably just deep in the queue as you get hundreds of submissions a month lol

Absolutely, but you'll have to DM my main blog (@himejoshi) because apparently tumblr doesn't let you have DMs when you have more than one blog admin.

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@royvalentine asked: is the form supposed to be only submittable once?

Yes, so people would only submit one song per submission period. I intended to make a new form for every submission period... There just hasn't been one since.

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hi question, do pinball tables count as video games?

I don't think I have enough experience to answer this question... What do y'all think????

#vgpollasks #vgmpaskpost #not a vgmusic poll

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hoshinasblade · 7 months ago

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Got some cute ideas.

Hoshina Soshiro coming back to work saw the fem reader carrying a baby kitty and smiling at it and her smile is like it was from heaven so soft and gentle.

You can FREELY at any twist on it be my guest. 🤌🏻

lmao can we all agree that hoshina is a cat person but in my head this can mean two things - he is fond of cats, and he is a cat in human form iykwim.

hoshina does not consider himself a jealous man.

from an early age, he has learned the virtue of being contented of whatever he is given, and on scenarios when he cannot help but to be discontented with what the world has dealt him with, he has also mastered the art of being competitive enough to always come on top.

an ugly feeling started to gnaw at hoshina's insides when he saw you smile with a brightness he's never seen you worn even when he is around. maybe it's his instinct, but he cannot stop himself from already hating whoever is at other end of your smile.

you spotted hoshina by the corner of the street and though your first thought was ask him why he is frowning, the animal you are cradling in your arms started meowing. "look what i found!" carefully, you waved at hoshina who has started to walk towards you - his mouth is in a straight line, but you could not stop your excitement from spilling over. "he looks just like you, soshiro-kun!" you giggled.

on your left arm rests a kitten, its orange fur stained with so much grime it almost looks like a used feather duster. the animal gave out a high-pitched meow when you lightly touched its head, petting it. the kitten was such a small thing, he noticed, and the fact that its eyes are also half-closed does not escape him. "you think i look like a gremlin?" he asked you.

"sssh! he is gonna hear you!" you scolded hoshina in the lowest volume of your voice you could muster. "i already named him, by the way."

"i literally just saw you picked it up like, not even fifteen minutes ago," hoshina bantered. seeing it squirming against your chest, he attempted to touch the kitten, only to receive a soft hiss. hoshina gave you a betrayed look.

"you called hinata-chan a gremlin.” you laughed at your boyfriend’s offended expression. “you gotta be nice to our son, you know”, you added sheepishly. you lifted the kitten a bit and nuzzled your cheek against its fuzzy head. hinata-chan mewled, and hoshina’s frown deepened until he realised what you just said.

the topic of having children was something you have discussed with hoshina not long ago, and although both of you dream to have miniature versions of each other running around the house someday, you have also decided that neither of you are ready to be having kids at the present. a boy and a girl - that’s what you and hoshina are planning to have maybe five, ten years from now.

the kitten looks awfully like a baby by the way you are holding it, and hoshina melted. you could sense his hesitation, so with your free hand you grabbed hoshina's wrist and directed him to put his palm on the kitten's fur slowly. "poor thing's only a few weeks old, i think. we gotta take care of it, or it's not gonna survive," you told him. the kitten, still resting on your arm did not make a move, and gaining confidence, hoshina began to gently stroke and scratch its forehead.

"i thought hinata would be a nice name - something sunny, something warm," you explained. "it reminds me of you."

the kitten's eyes remained half-closed, but after a moment it opened its mouth and its small tongue lapped on hoshina's finger, purring.

touched, hoshina breathed a sigh of relief. "nice to meet you, hinata-chan. you're absolutely going to be one spoiled cat."

a/n: lmao this is so messy but i see the potential, hoshina would definitely have beef with a literal kitten over you.

#the kitten was like #yes this is my dad #hoshimeow #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #kn8 x reader #lian replies

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yns-world · 8 months ago

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Queen of Hearts

Title: Queen of Hearts

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of physical and mental anguish

A/N: dc/the boys au sort of. fem reader.

dare i say fatima is coming out of retirement??? we don't know....but we enjoy whatever fics we can LMAO

i just finished the first season of the boys and i absolutely love my man homelander 😩 my dms are fully open for any and all homelander requests--hcs, drabbles, stories, etc!!! lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader :) (please keep your requests spoiler free thank you)

as always, enjoy!

Queen of Hearts. America’s Heart. The healer for The Seven. One touch from her can soothe any pain and mend the fragments of the mind and body.

From a very young age, Y/N was dubbed to have “angel hands”, with the ability to mend her family’s aches with just a single touch. By the time she was in high school, she was mending to her friends and their stress-induced ailments. With one brush of their hair, she was able to relieve them of all the mental or emotional discomfort.

When the recruitments for the next member of The Seven were open, Y/N applied because she had thought that she could provide aid in the face of all the misery and destruction that is left behind in a superhero’s wake.

She got in, of course. But she also got more than she could chew.

Y/N’s original hero name was going to be “Angelica”, to pay homage to what her father would call her gift of “angel hands”. Vought had other plans.

“From now on, you are the reigning Queen of Hearts!” A contract broker exclaimed. Confusion painted Y/N’s face.

“I thought I was going to be Angelica?”

“Angelica is just another name, and you are not ‘just another person’. You are going to save millions, you are going to have an entire kingdom of dutiful followers that will worship you-- a benevolent monarch that bestows mercy on all those in her way. You will tend to those who suffer the greatest of pains: a heart shattered by grief.” Y/N didn’t know if she was speaking with a lawyer or a salesman from the sound of his spontaneous speech. From that day forward, her fate was sealed.

From the very first press conference of her debut, Y/N was merely a little girl of the past, and the Queen of Hearts had begun her infamous reign.

Signing posters with her face on it, performing interviews on talk shows, the Queen of Hearts was just getting warmed up for the real rally.

When it came to the devastating wars and protests that went on in the nation, the Queen was sent to inspect the scene. Of course, the Queen always outperformed. Visiting house to house, sitting down with not just the victims, but the neighbors of the victims. Getting to know each and every citizen that could even have heard about what travesty had gone down. And during these visits, the Queen would have a healing hand on the people while her voice poured honey into their ears.

It worked. Each and every time. Just like how Vought wanted.

What people don’t realize, what people refuse to discuss, is how her powers work.

Her powers neither heal nor destroy, they simply conduct the transfer of pain into her body. She feels everything they have felt, she swallows all the things that their body has been fighting off. And she carries these burdens with her.

Her career with The Seven was lucrative in the first few years. What the nation needed most was not just a hero, but a mother. The Queen of Hearts provided that.

Vought had trained her how to take on the burdens of thousands of people at once, but lacked in training her how to dispose of the weight she now carried.

When she was younger, Y/N would go into periods where she would shut herself off from the world. For weeks at a time, she would be paralyzed from the anguish, she could feel the poison slithering up and down her body like a parasite, and she would silently pray for death.

But the Queen can’t just take time off from her role. With nowhere else to turn, she drowns out her sorrows in the only alternative-- fight grief with the cause of grief.

“According to Insider information, it appears that the Queen of Hearts is allegedly dating notorious criminal and psychopath, Joker. When asked for a comment, the Queen replies with: ‘He’s a person, too.’”

Feeling too many feelings all the time, hearing so many shouts of terror and agony in her head, the only antidote she seeks for is the exact opposite-- a man that couldn’t care less for the public. A man that bestows this agony onto others.

If Y/N could never escape from this hellhole of a life, then maybe the Queen could have a taste of what it’s like to live a different life.

On his wild, maniacal hunts for money and killing, the Queen would be riding shotgun while the Joker took the wheel of his gold-decked lamborghini.

Vought was pissed when the news broke out, but there wasn’t much they could do but assign the Queen smaller missions out in the middle of nowhere to try and “separate” her from the Joker until the news died down. But the Queen was tired of listening and bowing her head. And she also learned of how much they needed her rather than her needing them.

Everytime the Joker would start a fiasco with dozens of victims, who would be the first at the scene? None other than his loving girlfriend, of course.

The public reaction might’ve been worse for wear in the beginning, but now that the Queen is doing damage control for her maniacal boyfriend, the public sees no problem with this relationship.

If anything, it has opened the minds of thousands, and created a path for heroes and villains of all kinds to band together. And of course, where there’s money to be made, the companies come swooping right behind them.

But there came a time when the Joker took it too far, when not even the mother of the nation could undo his wrongs.

On his insatiable conquest for hell on Earth, the Joker attacked a nuclear power plant in an attempt to dismantle a system that was already built on the blood of its people.

The Queen of Hearts was at the scene before first responders or the press, and what she saw alone left her writhing.

The shrieks of innocent civilians, pounds of flesh and skin melting off the bone, shaky hands reaching out from the ground for a savior.

The people needed a savior.

The people needed a god.

She could not be what they needed her to be.

She fought that instinct to flee for so long, she pushed back and stayed for years. She gave up skin into the game, she thought that she had killed off that child inside of her. But it was in this moment-- where everywhere she looked was another soul begging to be put out of their misery, where there were thousands of souls waiting to be added onto the tremendous weight she already carries-- was when all of that weight finally cracked.

Queen of Hearts looked up at the night sky, expecting to see stars but only to be met with clouds passing overhead.

Well, one star did strike through the suffocating fumes-- Homelander.

She met his face, her eyes were filled with despair and her face twisted in despair, and he gave her a reaffirming nod. He would take it from here.

Homelander watched as the Queen’s mask fell from her face and Y/N bolt into the night-- just before anyone noticed.

In the following weeks since the nuclear plant incident, Y/N holed up at the tower. Both the heroes and corporate knew it was better this way.

“Let sleeping dogs lie.” Stillwell said.

When she finally emerged from her self-induced banishment, the Queen was reborn.

Stillwell hosted a PR conference the size of which whenever she would debut another hero. And that she was.

“I introduce to the world a new era of superhero. Please welcome, Sultana!” Out from the curtains came the new and improved Y/N. Replacing her red and black garments from her Queen of Hearts days was a lavish gold and evergreen suit.

New suit, new hair, new smile.

This time, Y/N knew better.

This time, Sultana would stick to the script.

The script included her being with Homelander, and she was fine with that. During team-ups, during walks across the red carpet, during meetings with Congress, Sultana would be right by Homelander’s side with a smile and a pleasant wave. Just like Vought intended.

Just as Homelander wanted it to be.

Afterall, they weren’t superheroes, that’s foolish to think they are.

They just played a pretty part, and gave a bright smile.

DON'T BE A GHOST READER! let me know your thoughts and how you feel about this fic!!! i love talking to each and every one of y'all <333

lmk if y'all wanna see more of this supe!reader type of stuff...or if y'all wanna see this specific character :D

if you enjoyed this post, then please consider reblogging :) every little bit helps and i greatly appreciate it <3

i'm open to homelander requests as of right now, so feel free to drop your ideas!!!

as always, please check my pinned post for request rules and the fandoms i write for :)

#yns world #the boys #the boys x y/n #the boys x you #the boys x reader #the boys tv #the boys season 4 #homelander #homelander x y/n #homelander x you #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #homelander fanfiction

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scarthefangirl · 2 years ago

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Admit it

Hobie brown x fem!reader

Request: Can I get a hobie brown x stubborn fem! reader. Like they obviously like each other but won’t do anything about bc of her. Hobie keeps asking what’s up and she just brushes it off. Turns out, she just wants to protect him.

Warnings: Some language, angst, poorly written lmao, not proof read

Story type: Blurb

PART 2 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

After a particularly pressing mission, your new focus was on the grumbling in your stomach.

I grab a tray and fill it with food, rushing to an empty table. As I take my first bite, hear a tray slamming down across from me. I glance up and see Pavitr smiling at me over the table.

"So," He says cheerfully, drawing out the 'o'.

"Yes?" I ask, mouth full of food. The second I have enough swallowed, I take another large bite.

"You and Hobie…. What's the deal?" He inquires and my face immediately heats up. I take a moment to swallow my food and reply simply,

"There is no deal."

"You guys flirt all the time! You obviously like each other." He presses. My heart races at the thought of Hobie and I consider confiding in Pav. Nausea twists into my stomach and I just shake my head and take another bite. The topic is not up for discussion. "Y/N, you deny your feelings every time someone asks. Why won't you admit you like him? You guys could be so happy." My chest tightens and for a second I nearly forget how to swallow.

"There's no feelings." I shrug.

"Admit you like him and spare us all this agony of waiting!" He exclaims and luckily I am saved from Pav's interrogation when Hobie takes a seat next to him, Gwen and Miles plopping down next to me.

"Admit she likes who?" Hobie asks with a smirk, although he already knows who he was asking about. I just stuff my mouth with my lunch, barley taking a break to breathe. Throughout lunch I catch his gaze on me, not attempting to hide it, and I feel my stomach churning.

I survive lunch unscathed and head to the only place I feel like I can really breath, the roof of the building I was just eating in. I sigh in relief the second I step into the open, freshness of the outdoors. I take a seat, dangling my legs off the edge. I breath in and out evenly, staring out at the vast view of headquarters. The spider people walking and flinging around look like ants from my elevated position.

I sit like this for a while. Calm and away from the stress of headquarters. But it is ruined when a voice calls out behind me, drawing nearer.

"Y/N what are ya doin up here?" The familiar British voice rung in my ears, immediately placing butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"It's peaceful," I say, looking at Hobie as he sits next to me. "Or, it was." I tease. We settle into silence, both staring forward. He bounces his legs as they dangle and I can hear his heavy breathing, subconsciously matching it. His proximity causes shortness of breath and I am about to get up when he speaks, breaking the silence.

"Its a beautiful view." He states and I nod. We both turn to face forward again, the wind humming in my ear and blowing my hair gently. I wish we could be here forever, sitting in each others quiet presence. But we can't.

I notice him scooting closer, slowly. If I blinked I wouldn't have even noticed him closing the gap between us. I can't help the sick feeling overcoming me, making me want to free fall off the edge.

We both look at each other, holding eye contact. Normally one of us would ruin the moment with a snarky comment, but instead he begins to lean in slightly. I feel his breath and it sends shivers down my spine. For a minute I want to kiss him, well, I always want to, but for a fleeting second I almost do. I wish I could freeze time, just like this, and stay like this forever.

"I- I can't." I whisper, heart breaking as I pull back. I turn away, missing the hurt flash across his face. This isn't the first time I've ended a moment before it can begin. I know I'm leading him on, but he makes it hard not to succumb to the moment. But a certain spidermans voice rings through my head in these moments, clearly saying "You have to keep your distance."

"This is one fucked up game darlin," He sighs with a humorless chuckle and I know he's right. He doesn't understand how bad I want to be his everything. He doesn't understand how much it hurts me to be the bad guy. He doesn't understand the longing I feel.

"You're so good at games though," I laugh, and he knows what I'm getting at.

"I flipped the board one time in the game of Life. It is a major misconception of real adult hood. Not everyone wants to get married or have kids or go to university," He rolls his eyes, and I don't mind his rant. I chuckle and like that, it's like the almost kiss never happened.

"You guys completed the mission?" Miguel questioned harshly. Everyone nods and he continues, "How was the performance?"

"Everyone did well," Gwen says and everyone hums in agreement. "Pavitr and Miles did exceptional with getting the people out." She adds.

"Y/N you specifically disobeyed orders and went into the building when you were supposed to be helping Gwen." Miguel snaps and I feel embarrassment bubbling in my stomach.

"She don't follow rules, if she did she'd be boring." Hobie says which earns a vicious glare from Miguel. Hobie puts his elbow on my shoulder, head in his hand, and leans his weight on me. I feel scarlet crawling up my neck and spreading onto my face. I catch Miguel's fixed glare on me and look to the ground.

"Hands off Brown." I grin and step to the side, causing him to loose balance for a moment. He passes me a dirty look and I laugh at him.

As everyone is leaving, Miguel tells me to stay back. My shoulders tense and I can't bare to look him in his red eyes. "Y/L/N. Have you been following my orders?" He demands.

"Hmm, what were they again?" I pretend to forget, scrunching my face and holding my chin to annoy Miguel. It works, his scowl deepening.

"Y/L/N, I tell you everyday. You can't date Hobie. You have to keep your distance. It's better that way."

"I know. I know, okay?" I groan, wishing he wouldn't stress it so much. It only makes it hurt me worse. He just pinches the bridge of his nose, no doubt mentally cursing me.

"You can't disrupt the canon." I roll my eyes at his comment.

"I know." And with that I turn around and stomp out. I can't stand this. Not being able to be with the boy I'm head over heels for, all because I'm supposed to have my first kiss with someone else.

That's my fucking canon event. My first kiss, and then other bullshit. I can't kiss Hobie because that's not my canon first kiss, and have to keep my distance because its canon that my first kiss happens on my first ever date so I have to wait to go on my first date for some idiot from my universe.

I'm so entranced in my thoughts as I walk aimlessly around, not knowing where I plan on going, when I bump into Hobie. I nearly fall but he catches me and helps me get my balance. Again, blush creeps onto my face.

"Now you're literally falling for me," He smirks, the lighting causing his rose ring to sparkle. I narrow my eyes and snort. "You alright?" He asks in a mocking way.

"Yeah, sorry," I grumble and step out of his grasp.

"Didn't you fall on me the first time we met?" He reminisces, walking with me as I shuffle forward. I remember as well, I had just joined and I had pissed off a spider cat, I was running from it when I bumped into him and took him down. I immediately fell for him, ironically.

"I can't forget when we first met." I start and his eyes widen in surprise at my sentiment. "But I'll keep trying." Which causes him to glare at me andd flip me his middle finger.

"Aren't you miss snarky?" He elbows me and I laugh. We walk together for awhile, to nowhere in particular. Eventually we catch up to Miles and Pav, who wiggle their eyebrows at us.

"Ooh, look at the love birds." Miles nudges Pavitr, a sly grin on his face. Although I know where they are coming from, it doesn't stop my heart from dropping.

"Where?" I play dumb and look around with a fake jaw drop.

[Two days later]

We have finished working for the day and a lot of my spider friends are chilling in one of the many living rooms in headquarters with me.

"Anyone else starving or just me?" Peter b asks, Mayday crawling on his shoulders. I nod hastily in agreeance. "Im going to get some dinner, who's with me?" He stands and a few others do too.

"I think I'm just going to head home to eat, but thanks!" I smile and wave them off. They linger outside for a moment, trying to decide on something.

"Want to go back with me and grab a bite together?" Hobie asks, staring into my eyes. I avert his gaze, cheeks burning.

"I'm okay, thanks though." I say with a faltering smile. My eyes fall to the floor as I hear the murmurs of the group quiet at the sound of my rejection.

"Another time then." He smirks but I notice the grimace behind his expression.

"Maybe," I lie for his sake and head back to my universe as quickly as possible.

"I can't believe you did that!" Pavitr gags in disgust.

"it's not so bad," I shrug and take another bite of the mayo lathered corn. Miles shudders in disgust and Gwen rolls her eyes. I lift another spoonful to my mouth when the spoon is snatched from my hand as Hobie takes a seat next to me. He stuffs it into his mouth and swallows, then makes a scrunched up expression that leaves me staring slightly.

"That's putrid." He grimaced and I shrug once more.

"You just don't have an exquisite palette like I do." I puff my chest out and grin. He digs into the contaminated corn again, scooping another bite and eating it. "I thought it was putrid?"

"I don't believe in consistency," He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes.

"Why don't you just admit you guys are in love?" Gwen blurts then turns pink in embarrassment. I immediately turn my head from Hobie, praying he doesn't notice the fluster evident on my face.

"Yeah Y/N, admit it." Hobie mocks and I shake my head.

"there's nothing to admit. I don't like Hobie." I say.

"Yes you do." The table says at the same time, including Hobie.

"No i don't."

"Oh please, admit it already." Miles groans.

"No, there isn't anything to admit."

"Yes there is," Hobie smirks and I fight the burning sensation that stings my cheeks.

"No." I press.

"Yes." He continues. Gosh, I just want to strangle him.

"No. Stop it." I say, heart dropping. I can't like him why can't he be okay with that? I can tell he feels guilty for pressing, which makes me feel bad for snapping. "Sorry, I'm sorry." I close my eyes tightly and sigh, getting up from the table and going to my safe place. The roof.

I am welcomed with a gush of wind that blows my hair into my eyes and mouth. I have to continuously brush the hair away as I sit in my usual place. Even with the hair in my face and the wind burning my skin slightly, its still calming. Until its not.

"Y/N!" Hobie calls in a sing-song voice and I close my eyes in aggravation. He takes a seat next to me and I feel a lump growing in my throat. I just want to hold him and kiss him and hug him and never let him go.

"Do you pretend to like me, or pretend not to?" He asks and it takes me a second to understand.

"I don't do either." I say flatly, standing up to leave. Miguel would want me to walk out and keep my distance. And that's what I am doing, walking away, until Hobie uses his webs to bring me tumbling into him. I gasp in fear that I'll fall over the edge but Hobie catches me. I pant to catch my breath as i sit wear I was before.

"I should push you off this damn roof, Brown!" I shout.

"Oh please, you're fine. You're just proving my point. I know you, if you didn't like me than you would've pushed me." He chuckles and then gets a serious look on his face. "Why do you act like you don't like me? Am i-" he groans, embarrassed of his next question. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's looking at me with the saddest expression I've ever seen him make and it nearly causes the lump in my throat to escape into a sob, but I manage to keep it down.

"You're not doing anything wrong Hobie." I sigh and gaze into his eyes, my own glossed over.

"Then what is it?" He demands, "You owe me an explanation!"

"I also owe you like 40 bucks, so what?" I try to play it off, despite the crack in my voice, hoping we can toss this in the bin of 'forgotten' moments. We have a lot of them.

"Y/N." Is all it takes for tears to spring out of my eyes. He looks surprised, scooting back slightly. I rub extremely hard at my eyes with my hands until I've relatively stopped.

"Sorry the wind got in my eyes." I laugh, but its not even half hearted. When he looks at me I know he doesn't believe a thing I say.

"Just tell me the truth." I meet his eyes as he speaks and feel my heart breaking at how badly I want to smash my lips against his. We stare into each other's eyes so deeply it makes me want to shuffle off the edge. My face twitches towards his and then I pause.

"I can't Hobie." I whisper but it is pointless to say anything, the look we're sharing tells enough truth. Before I realize what we're doing I am swept in the moment and we begin to kiss. Its better than I've ever imagined. His kisses me delicately, like I am fragile. I suppose I am, considering this may be the only time we kiss. We should savor it.Despite his gentleness, I kiss him with urgency and desperation. I need this. I need him.

After a moment, reality comes crushing in. I'm kissing Hobie. My first kiss, Hobie Brown. I can't do this! This is it, I've ruined everything. It's self sabotage. This is just making it harder than it has to be. I am about to pull away and tell him it's a mistake, but before I get the chance Miguel's voice booms from behind us.

"Y/L/N!" He shouts an I flinch, scrambling away from Hobie. Immediately I burst into tears. Its too much. "I've told you countless times not to do this. You had ONE rule." He yells and confusion clouds Hobie's face.

"I've ruined everything." I whisper to Hobie, but really to myself. Tears stream down my face as Michael's large shadow covers me in shade. "I'm sorry." I tell Miguel, throat tight as I keep myself from sobbing.

"It's too late Y/N. There's no going back now." He says it dangerously low. "Get up." I obey, and as I turn to follow him away I glance back at Hobie, who is no doubt utterly confused. I'm sorry, I mouth to him sadly.

I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't.

part 2 ;)

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torahoes · 3 months ago

Text

(IDOLiSH7) Touma Inumaru - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.

Shiro Utsugi: Good work today! It’s almost time!

Shiro Utsugi: No one’s here yet...?

Shiro Utsugi: Maybe if I send a bunch of messages, the notifications will catch someone’s attention

Shiro Utsugi: Alright then, I’ll try talking about my breakfast or something

Shiro Utsugi: This morning, I had rice balls, rolled omelet, sausages, and miso soup with nameko mushrooms. It’s been a while since I cooked in the morning, so I went all out a bit

Touma Inumaru: Ahhhhhh Utsugi-san!!!! I had yakisoba bread for breakfast! Cooking so early in the morning is impressive!!

Touma Inumaru: No, wait — sorry, could you hang on a second…? I accidentally spilled a bag of chips all over my room and I’m cleaning it up now

Shiro Utsugi: That’s a major crisis!! I’ll wait for you…! Isumi-san is over at your place today too, right?

Haruka Isumi: Good work today

Haruka Isumi: Yup, I’m hanging out at Touma’s place right now! My breakfast was natto rice, grilled salmon, spinach ohitashi, and tofu miso soup!

Haruka Isumi: Oh, and sorry for responding late! Touma tried to open a bag of chips just now and it went boom! and scattered everywhere lmaoo

Touma Inumaru: The bag just wouldn't open so I ended up using way too much force 😂

Shiro Utsugi: Ah… I get it, there are times when they’re strangely hard to open…! And thank you both for sharing what you had for breakfast as well!

Haruka Isumi: Picking a topic like this is so you, Utsugi-san. So you eat stuff like potato chips too, huh 🤔

Shiro Utsugi: I like them quite a bit. The seaweed and salt flavored chips make for a great snack to enjoy with drinks, too.

Haruka Isumi: By the way, Touma doesn’t have a vacuum cleaner at his place. Isn’t that crazy? The tiny crumbs on the carpet won’t come out

Haruka Isumi: Hold on, he just came back holding a lint roller like he's some kind of hero brandishing a sword lmao

Touma Inumaru: I'm telling you, this thing can handle most cleaning jobs!

Haruka Isumi: It can't!

Shiro Utsugi: I get it. Lint rollers are really convenient! I used one for most of my cleaning back when I was a student as well.

Touma Inumaru: You too, Utsugi-san!? That makes us comrades! ✨

Haruka Isumi: I didn't know Utsugi-san was like that too

Shiro Utsugi: Indeed, I am.

Touma Inumaru: Oh, then, Utsugi-san, did you play games when you were a student? 😳 Haru brought one over, and we were playing it earlier!

Shiro Utsugi: Ryo-kun made me play with him a bunch of times. What kind of game were you two playing?

Touma Inumaru: It’s a game where you’re a rabbit working part-time at a restaurant! 🍴

Haruka Isumi: You have to prepare the ordered dishes within the time limit, but there’s a lot to do like chopping ingredients and washing dishes, so it’s pretty fun! My fingers got tired from spamming the buttons too quick while slicing cabbages 😂

Touma Inumaru: Actually, doesn’t this sound like the kind of game Ryo-san would love!?

Haruka Isumi: I wonder.... I think he would....?

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san, if you play it with Ryo-san, please let me know how it goes! 🤩

Shiro Utsugi: Ah, so it’s already decided I’ll play it with him. I’ll recommend it to him when I get the chance!

Touma Inumaru: Oh, I forgot to mention that the cleaning’s all done! Sorry for the wait!!

Shiro Utsugi: Alright! Let’s begin, then! We've been asked to capture your usual interactions in a cozy setting, as if you were sitting at a dinner table, so we’ll be conducting this discussion on Rabbit Chat!

Shiro Utsugi: How did you feel when you heard Isumi-san would be producing you, Inumaru-san?

Touma Inumaru: I was super happy ‼️ Of course, I would've been thrilled if it were Mina or Tora instead too, but Haru is, how do I put it… special

Touma Inumaru: I really respect Haru as an artist. He never skips vocal training, always works on his basics, and studies all kinds of music genres

Touma Inumaru: Seeing how disciplined and dedicated he is always motivates me.

Touma Inumaru: So, you know, just thinking about how someone like Haru would go about producing me — it made me so happy; my heart was racing with excitement ‼️😆

Haruka Isumi: Hm....

Haruka Isumi: So you respect me

Touma Inumaru: Isn't that obvious!? You’ve been singing, dancing and practicing hard all on your own since you were little

Touma Inumaru: Back when I was that age, I was just running around playing all the time

Touma Inumaru: But Haru... you were doing it for your grandma…...

Haruka Isumi: Why are you the one crying lmaooo

Touma Inumaru: HARU~~~ WE'LL ALWAYS BE TOGETHER, OKAY???

Haruka Isumi: Huh? Now isn't THAT obvious?

Shiro Utsugi: I feel like crying as well..…

Haruka Isumi: Geez! You're both grown-ups, cut it out already!! I haven’t even had a chance to talk about my production yet 😤

Touma Inumaru: Sorry 😭

Shiro Utsugi: Isumi-san, you expressed Inumaru-san through a ballad. I figured you would go with a rap-heavy track, so it was surprising!

Touma Inumaru: Right! I got chills as soon as I heard the intro

Touma Inumaru: I could feel that Haru really considers me — all three of us — special. Even without him saying a word, I felt like his feelings came through

Haruka Isumi: Touma, you always say embarrassing stuff like it’s nothing. Well, you’re not wrong....

Haruka Isumi: Like Utsugi-san said, I thought about going for something more intense, but the way we, his teammates, see him — there's more to him than just that

Haruka Isumi: So, um

Touma Inumaru: What's wrong?

Haruka Isumi: I'm about to give it my allllll and say something suuupeeeeer embarrassing right now too, so

Touma Inumaru: O-Okay, I get it, so stop hitting my back!! Do you want some orange juice?

Haruka Isumi: Not right now!

Haruka Isumi: Touma, you’re... how should I put it... you're warm. Even when I used to be cold towards you or tried to keep my distance, you always had your arms open, waiting for me, and you welcomed me warmly every time. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone

Haruka Isumi: So, I wanted to create a song that would make the people listening to it feel the same way — like they're not alone, like they can take a step forward and face what's ahead — a song that's like a good-luck charm

Haruka Isumi: Just like how being with you helped the three of us do the same

Touma Inumaru: Haru

Haruka Isumi: What

Touma Inumaru: I !!!!! LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU THREE, SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

Haruka Isumi: Don’t shout about stuff like that so loudly!! It’s super embarrassing, you’re gonna bother the neighbors!!!!

Shiro Utsugi: I love the four of you as well....!

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san...!!! 😭😭😭

Haruka Isumi: Seriously, what's wrong with these grown-ups!? You guys haven't been drinking, have you!?

Touma Inumaru: I'm completely sober ‼️ I’m drinking melon soda ‼️

Touma Inumaru: But, I see… so that’s why the lyrics were "Look beside you.”

Haruka Isumi: Well, yeah. You've always been the one leading us forward, so

Haruka Isumi: If you ever feel anxious, I’m there right next to you

Haruka Isumi: I’ll support you as your fellow center

Touma Inumaru: I’m seriously so lucky to have met you guys!

Touma Inumaru: Thank you for teaching me what it's like to have teammates like you

Haruka Isumi: Well, of course! We’re your REAL teammates, after all

Haruka Isumi: Hey--!! Touma won't stop ruffling my hair!!!

Haruka Isumi: My hair’s all messed up now!!

Touma Inumaru: Haru’s hair is silky smooth!

Shiro Utsugi: I’m jealous. Can I also try petting you next time?

Haruka Isumi: Don’t say it like you’re talking about petting a cat!

Shiro Utsugi: My apologies! 🐾 Now then, I’d like to ask about the artist photoshoot next. The location you chose was beautiful!

Touma Inumaru: It was such a great place! The ginkgo-lined path was stunning 🍂

Haruka Isumi: Wasn't it? I thought it really suited Touma 🍂

Touma Inumaru: Seriously? What part of it!?

Haruka Isumi: Promise you won’t laugh?

Touma Inumaru: Huh!? Of course I won't! It's something you put a lot of thought into choosing, with me in mind

Haruka Isumi: Then I’ll tell you...

Haruka Isumi: I walked through there alone not long ago, and the soft, warm colors of the ginkgo trees felt like they were enveloping me. I thought it would be amazing if we could walk here together and take your artist photos

Haruka Isumi: The season you were born in is a cold one with chilly, biting winds, but being with you makes me feel so warm and comforted that I forget all about it

Haruka Isumi: That's why the scenery kinda reminded me of you...

Touma Inumaru: Haru....

Touma Inumaru: Honestly.... I don’t even know what to say right now, but I’m so incredibly happy. I’m not the kind of person who deserves such praise from you

Touma Inumaru: But I was really touched that the lyrics kept reminding me, again and again, that I have my friends by my side. It made me realize all over again that my purpose in life is to keep singing as part of ŹOOĻ.

Touma Inumaru: Keep singing next to me forever, Haru

Haruka Isumi: Woah, that was a killer line. Right back at you!

Touma Inumaru: Utsugi-san! Haru and I just did a fist bump! 👊👊

Shiro Utsugi: Oh, thank you for sharing that with me! Lovely ŹOOĻ as always! 👊👊 Did the decision to have Inumaru-san's costume stray from his usual hard-edged style come from wanting to express his warmth?

Haruka Isumi: Yup, I paired a white knit sweater with a scarf to create a softer impression 👌

Touma Inumaru: I don’t usually wear knitwear, so it felt fresh! I was worried if it would suit me, but the shoot turned out great thanks to Haru 😳✨

Haruka Isumi: Touma, I'm pretty sure you can pull off anything

Touma Inumaru: For real? Even bold clothes like Tora’s, with my chest fully exposed?

Touma Inumaru: Hey, don’t laugh Haru lololol

Haruka Isumi: Sorry lol, I couldn’t help it once I pictured it LMAO

Touma Inumaru: That's kinda annoying 😂 Maybe I should borrow Tora’s clothes and try it soon!?

Haruka Isumi: Oh man, I’m so looking forward to this LOL. Let’s rate his look together, Utsugi-san!

Shiro Utsugi: Me too!? Actually, that might not be a bad idea. We could uncover some new possibilities for ŹOOĻ…!

Haruka Isumi: What kind of "new possibilities" are we uncovering by having Touma show off his bare chest? LMAOO

Touma Inumaru: LOL

Shiro Utsugi: My apologies; that took an amusing turn, didn't it? 🐾 Now, to wrap things up, could you share a final message for your fans?

Haruka Isumi: Everyone! What did you think of the Touma I produced? Maybe some of you were surprised, maybe the others saw it coming. You see, to us, ŹOOĻ is this precious place we finally found — the place where we truly belong, and the one who's been standing at the forefront, protecting it all this time, is Touma

Haruka Isumi: That’s why I wanted to tell Touma, who’s been protecting ŹOOĻ, that we’re here for him too, and that his place is right here with us. And I could do that all thanks to the fans’ support! Thank you so much! Keep watching over us forever, okay?

Touma Inumaru: Being able to sing a song that promises a future with my members is something so special it turns my world upside down, and the fact that Haru made that happen means so much to me

Touma Inumaru: Haru made it sound like I'm amazing, but I’m really not. I used to turn a blind eye to things I didn’t like. I used to treat everyone but me as my enemy. I was childish.

Touma Inumaru: But the reason I was able to change was because I found a place I truly want to protect from the bottom of my heart. It's thanks to the fans, who directed their warm, sincere feelings at us head-on

Touma Inumaru: Listening to "Heart to Heart," I was reminded of that once again. This song is like a good-luck charm to me, and it’d be awesome if it became one for all of you too! Let’s dream about ŹOOĻ’s future together!

Shiro Utsugi: Thank you! I feel like this conversation between you two turned out to be something truly special!

Touma Inumaru: Yeah, I think so too! The fact that Haru said so much today... 😭

Haruka Isumi: It's nothing. I can praise you more anytime you want if that's what you'd like.

Touma Inumaru: For real!? Haru, you’re kinda cool today

Haruka Isumi:

Touma Inumaru: Wanna play that restaurant game again?

Haruka Isumi: Yeah!! Let’s make the best restaurant ever! Let’s invite Torao and Minami and play multiplayer with all four of us!!! 🎮

Touma Inumaru: This cute side of Haru really puts me at ease 😆 Let’s keep going forever — the four of us, together!

The End.

#idolish7 translation #zool #idolish7 #ainana #i7 #id7 #rabbitchat #rabbit chat #i7 translation #haruka isumi #isumi haruka #touma inumaru #inumaru touma #toma inumaru #inumaru toma #shiro utsugi #utsugi shiro #16producers #16 producers

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planete777 · 2 years ago

Text

꒰ RED LINES .:. LN4 ꒱

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n finds her fate hidden within two red lines, and fears the demise of her and lando's relationship. [based on this ask]

pt. 2 .:. 'red hearts'!

WARNINGS. pregnant!reader, both her and lando aren't ready so there are discussions about potential abortions, mental break downs (i.e panic attacks, crying, you know the drill), angst, mentions of throwing up (no one does it i promise), attachment issues (like me fr), a little bit of fluff (because im not that evil >:])

NOTE. first non-high!lando fic!! i've never written a pregnancy fic, so like, forgive me if it's bad haha 🥲 i put so much effort into my banner, like i'm so proud of it lmao. anyways, enjoy reading luvs 💗

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any high!lando thoughts, scenarios and requests, or any other trope too 🤍

edited to add tag in banner

y/n is almost blinded by it.

two bold, red lines.

she finds it completely comical how she didn't know it sooner, for the ink that runs down the result window is so palpable, it might as well have been written with a permanent marker.

the test taunts and mocks her as she stares at it in complete despair and confusion as she so sure that they had been careful. but now, she lets herself cry over spilt milk because having a baby, on top of mountainous piles of stress that came hand-in-hand with uni, was not a checkbox she would've liked to tick off amidst her status quo.

the bathroom pounds with an deafeningly eerie silence, as she stares, and stares, then blinks as tears flow, then stares again. her ears are swallowed by loud static and her vision fuzzes around the edges, making the test in her hand seem further away than it actually is, and she allows herself to completely fade out.

she feel utterly sick. like she wants to throw up, but the upcoming bile, instead, remains dislodged in her throat and presses immense weight into her chest. it shortens her breaths, she's hyperventilating as if she's been strangled, then panic completely overwhelms her. everything before her zooms in and out like a malfunctioning camera and the pregnancy test clatters to the ground as she digs the heels of her palms into her eyes.

she doesn't remember the last time she had a panic attack this severe, and neither does she know if she'll get over it solus. yearn for a presence beside her devours her brain and she wishes that lando–

lando.

the way her heart seems to squeeze in her chest is almost too animalistic to be normal, and it arrives at the thought of him being unacceptable of the baby. he's barely situated in one place, fuck, he basically travels for a living, and all her mind conjures is how he won't be there when she needs him most. she tries to wish it away, because just thinking about her makes her spiral even more and she knows she cannot survive with a child whose father decides to be absent.

codependency isn't great, that she's thoroughly aware of, but lando's presence brings a wave of comfort braided in the brightness of his smiles and the warmth of his embrace, and it has become her whole lifeline.

yet, the bathroom she's in feels too small and too cold to be anything other than unbearable, and her body feels to weak to remain upright, sliding down to the tiled floor. she sobbing and spluttering so much that lando can hear it from two rooms down, and he rushes into the en suite without a thought in mind.

he crouches down in front of her, hands flush against the skin of her cheeks. he's shaking, fucking terrified out of his wits, and his words are enunciated with a tremble.

"hey, hey, y/n breathe with me," he desperately takes her hands into his, and places it on his own chest, making exaggerated breaths as y/n's start to simmer. it feel like hours stretch by, the air surrounding feels tense with fear and devastation, and by the time she settles, y/n senses nothing but exhaustion.

"what's wrong, love? you're scaring me," lando gently asks, and she struggles to respond, mouth rid of any moisture as if it had been scraped dry. lando takes the initiative to look around in hopes that anything would give him a clue to his girlfriend's break down.

then he freezes.

the white stick lays there, gleaming and glowing like it's fucking sent from heaven, and he feels his heart plummet into the depths of his guts. he knows he can deny it all he wants, but it's undeniable, what he's seeing, yet prays like a grieving mother that what he thinks is not true as his quivering hands reaches for it.

two bold, red lines.

"oh fuck," it punches out of him, every inch of energy disperses like fleeing birds, "you're pregnant?"

it's so small, so timid that he almost doesn't see it, but she nods, and his arms fall like he's been shot and the test leaves his fingers. he swears he's drenched in ice cold water and he remains silent, bound by stunned numbness. his lack of response spurs y/n again, and she begins sobbing, pressing her face into her arms and wiping it furiously. all she thinks is that he doesn't want it, and out of sheer terror, she starts rambling utter shit.

"i can get rid of it, if you want, lando, just please i'm begging you, don't leave me."

he's crying himself now, doesn't know what to feel at the suggestion, but it makes him gag.

"get rid of it if i want to? fucking hell y/n, i'm not a prick like that," he fumbles out, words wet and hardly cohesive, "as long as you want to keep it, i want the baby too."

she looks up at him, eyes so full of hope that he immediately takes her into his arms.

"you sure, lando?" she's still hesitant, burying her head into his chest, and as further reassurance, he kisses her forehead, "as sure as i'll ever be."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.writes: ln4 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one

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oillipheist9000 · 1 year ago

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Heyy

So, this is mostly just a fun timeline I made with little research backing it, but I thought it might be cool to share?

It goes through what historical events happened throughout Alastor’s life that might have impacted him and sets the stage for what his life might have looked like. It does hinge quite a bit on US history, so I will also touch on parts of that for our friends who aren’t from the US and don’t know : D

Now keep in mind that this is more of just a list of fun facts that i’ve shoved into a readable outline, than anything put together lol.

Alastor is said to be in his 30’s or 40’s when he died in 1933, this puts his year of birth at a rough range of 1890-1900. For the purpose of this timeline, I will be assuming that Alastor was born in the year 1902 because I want to. This would make him 31 at the time of his death.

In 1892, the supreme court ruled on Plessy vs Ferguson, which was what established the idea of ‘Separate but Equal’ <- (i'm assuming people know what that is and stuff, if you don’t know, feel free to ask, I can give more of a history lesson)

From 1900-1909, education past the 5th grade did not EXIST in New Orleans for black children. This is a large part of why I believe a birth year of at least 1900 would be more accurate for Alastor, as he would have been 7-9 (2nd-4th) when middle school (6th-8th) became available to him.

In 1917, McDonogh No. 35 High School became the first public high school for black teens. Alastor would have been 15 in my timeline. This means that he would have likely been out of school for a year under the assumption that he wouldn’t be able to go anymore. (There were a couple private schools, but those were Expensive!!)

1920: KKK reemerged in Louisiana <- (again, assuming people know the history on this, if you would like a quick history lesson, lmk!!)

In 1921, Alastor graduated! Yay!! He is now 19!

Now, a fun fact! Throughout all of this, radio has not existed as a Thing in New Orleans. Alastor would not have grown up listening to the radio. It would have been new tech for him!!

In 1922, the first radio station came to New Orleans!!! It’s called WWL and it runs … drumroll please … ADS!!! In an attempt to raise funds for Loyola University! Exciting, right? : D

By 1927, the Federal Radio Commission was established in an effort to help organize airwaves, which had become messy and disorganized from the abundance of unlicensed, random people broadcasting.

1933: Alastor dies D:

Also 1933, oddly enough, A newspaper somehow managed to get radio stations in New Orleans legally banned from airing news from the last 24 hours?????

An interesting note. This ban went through in the summer. Deer season is in the winter (Dec-Jan), so it was either banned 6 months before or 6 months after Alastor’s death

1934: FRC is replaced by the Federal Communications Commission

This is pretty much all I have. I also am including some of the links to sources that I thought were interesting. Super open to discussions and questions lol. Hope someone enjoyed reading all this lmao

And also @nunalastor cause you seemed interested and I finally got everything together lol

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

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hollybell51 · 2 years ago

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Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

Navigation

Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.�� It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

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