#he's one of my closest pals
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red fucking alert guys someone's flirting with my longtime crush by sending him editions of gay wwi poetry. i can't compete
#i give up#lol#:/#tagged under âyeah man the guy i post about. that guyâ#one day i'll fucking figure all this out right? one day. i'm visiting him next weekend for a few days#now why is my immediate response âfine then i give up. i'm so tired. god. fuckâ#we've had a ???!!!????? going for almost a year?? bffs with bffenefits?#he's one of my closest pals#but he also is a) a hopeless romantic and#b) ugh man this is the guy who looks me in the eyes saying âpls murderboner i need a big dick goth man. dick optionalâ and âur my favoriteâ#saying shit like â50% of gays don't know when ppl are flirting with themâ and âi wanna be someone's mr darcyâ and âif only we'd worked outâ#i'm tired man wtf#maybe i'll just slam some negronis next weekend and be like [REDACTED] HOW DO YOU GODDAMN FEEL ABOUT ME. BE REAL FOR ONCE#but. DO I EVEN LIKE HIM#my heart is getting like fatigued just typing this fuck man i give up
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Iâm thinking about the angst of the restraints headcanon again. Thereâs the two with the least physically violent crimes, and they rank relatively low in strength. Thereâs the child who was violent but had to be really crafty about it; sheâs the weakest of all of them. And the most dangerous of the guilty prisoners cannot be restrained.
This makes me so emotional!!! All three are the smallest of their circles. Two of them are extremely ordinary people who have never experienced/expressed physical violence before. One hadn't even fathomed the idea of someone dying until they actually did. And yet, they're subjected to the type of restraints you'd expect to see on someone who is uncontrollably violent. The fact that prisoners who committed very gruesome murders can walk free (including Mikoto) just adds insult to injury. I still couldn't everything into words, but here's a Mahiru-centric drabble featuring the same thoughts. It takes place after T1 closes but before the attacks.
âWhere are our rights?â
Fuutaâs shout caused Mahiru to wince. She perched on her bedding, watching the two prisoners sheâd invited to her cell. It hadnât been the fun kind of invitation, though. Back in school, she always wanted to have parties and dates back at her place. Moving to the city, she imagined what it would be like to make university friends and take them back home with her to talk, eat, and have fun.Â
Sitting in her dim gray cell with Fuuta and Amane, all of them held fast by complex sets of restraints, was not what sheâd had in mind.
Amane knelt in the corner. Her arms were crossed, as if pouting, though the opposite was true. A moment ago her eyes had lowered in prayer, but it was difficult to find any peace of mind now. Fuuta snapped and shouted as he paced the length of the cell bars. They were unlocked, but like the others, he didnât feel like being out in front of everyone. Heâd give his uniform a violent jerk every now and then, but it didnât do any good. Between his strides and growls, he made Mahiru think of those poor wild animals they keep at the circus.
âTake it easy, Fuuta.â She mustered up a smile. âCome rest with us.â
âI canât believe you two. Youâre just gonna sit here and take it? I didnât do a fucking thing! Theyâre acting like Iâm some big danger to society,â he yanked his arms again, to no avail. âAll I did was type some things onto a screen. Iâm not gonna go around stabbing anyone or anything. And you, you didnât hurt anyone either!â
He nodded his head to Mahiru. If her arms werenât already folded over her chest, she would have hugged herself anyway.Â
âWell⊠I did hurt him in the end⊠I broke his heart badly enough that⊠I mean, heâŠâ
Fuuta made a disgusted sound. âThatâs all stupid romance stuff. Iâm saying, you never stabbed him. Never strangled him. Never poisoned his food, or ââ
âOh god, no! How horribleâŠâ
âExactly! From what weâve heard, it sounds like Haruka killed someone with his bare hands. I think Muu had a knife or something. Shidou had a whole arsenal of grisly doctor tools. Kotoko has openly talked about how she beat that guy to death. Why are they allowed to walk free while weâre tied down like wild animals?â
Mahiru was glad she hadnât mentioned the circus.
âAnd Amane! Itâs not like she did anything violent, and here she is!â
âThat is not true.â
Both paused as Amane spoke up for the first time.Â
âEh?â
âWhile I disagree with my verdict, the restraints make sense.â The others still stared blankly. As matter-of-fact as always, she continued. âI killed with my own hands. I used the amount of force I was instructed to. Just as the sinner fears the wrath of heaven, I can understand how the godless warden would fear my justice.â
Fuutaâs passion wavered, but Mahiru could feel her heart ache for the girl. âOh Amane⊠I had no idea. To be pushed to the point of violence at your ageâŠâ
âI am not to be pitied. As I said, I am dangerous, and proud to be. I am doing godâs work. All heroes must be dangerous.â
Fuuta grunted, but said nothing. Mahiru gave her a gentle smile. âItâs not pity. Even if you were dangerous, itâs horrible to restrain someone like you. Youâve already had to brave so much, as the smallest of the bunch.â
She looked between the two. A sad laugh escaped her. âNow that I think of it, I guess weâre all the smallest here, hm? Aside from maybe Muu, we donât have much height or strength on the othersâŠâ
âThatâs what Iâve been saying!â Fuuta cried. âThe fuck do they think weâre going to do?â Mahiru was just glad heâd focused on that rather than the fact sheâd just called him weak.Â
Voices raised in conversation down the hallway. Mikotoâs laugh echoed faintly into the cell. Â
It warmed Mahiru to hear. Things had been so hard on him here. Though it had been frightening to hear him shouting at the restraints til his voice was raw â well, it wasnât him shouting â it had been a relief when he appeared free and relaxed the following day. He seemed sheepish that he wasnât able to help the others, having no memory of his escape. Mahiru just kept telling him how happy she was for him.
Fuuta didnât share in the sentiment. âMeanwhile, Mikoto gets to stroll around free, and he beat the shit out of Es! He could snap and kill any one of us here, and they donât even give a damn. But ooohhh, god forbid the guy whoâs never been violent a day in his life is allowed to use his own two hands!â
The harshness of his voice wasnât doing his argument many favors. Still, his words were beginning to get through to Mahiru.Â
Sheâd worked so hard to be a model citizen. She was supposed to have a perfect life. She could cook, clean, sew, and take care of children. She did herself up every day; she was never a slob or a slut. She was generous to everyone she met. She showered the world around her in love. Wasnât it unfair that her hands were tied like some common criminal? What was all that effort for â being patient when people upset her, being kind even when she disagreed with someone, all of that â if she was going to end up in the same place as someone who had stabbed another out of sheer malice?
Amane didnât seem to be whirling with the same doubts. She closed her eyes once more. âIt is simply a trial from heaven. We may be small, but all of us have an internal strength that will carry us through the ordeal.â
âI donât think itâs any sort of religious thing, but youâre right,â Fuuta puffed his chest out. âTrials like this only make people stronger!âÂ
âDo you think so?â Mahiru wasnât sure if she was asking either of them or just musing to herself. It was a nice thought. This was all part of destiny, something meant to be that would make her stronger in the end.Â
But she wasnât so sure she believed in destiny anymore. It hadnât quite worked out the first time.Â
âHell yeah!â Fuuta must have assumed she was in fact asking him. He gave a wide, toothy grin. âItâs not like we can get any weaker, right? The warden better watch out next trial â theyâve got a big storm coming!â
#milgram#mahiru shiina#fuuta kajiyama#amane momose#and then we had a big storm coming đ#thank you for the ask pal!!! im not sure if the drabble is what you had in mind but it was really fun to write lol#mahiru canonically being really tiny and trying to be the model nonconfrontational woman...#fuuta being so small and specifically saying hes never been violent toward anyone and never wanted anyone to get physically hurt...#(and something about fuuta being the closest to the average milgram fan)#amane being very small and weak and only killed a specific person for a very predictable reason...#and theyre all treated like wild animals that could snap at any time :((#meanwhile the actually unpredictable one who Did lash out and hurt someone just strolls around free#not that its anyones fault hes free -- it wasnt on purpose -- but still it makes the situation that much more painful#it makes me crazy!! i thought putting it into action would help communicate my ideas but idk#drabbles
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fuck of desitel ponies for tday
#love when dean says shit like sweetheart casually in convo#he calls cas buddy (closest connection he has ever had and is down bad in love)#mlpnatural#spn#mlp#supernatural#sketch#supernatural with ponies#supernatural characters as ponies#sketch artist#dean winchester#castiel#pony castiel#pony dean winchester#ok so that b99 scene with captain holt and ray when they shake hands#and peralta is between them like âyalls spesificâ#thats what this is#dean playing the roles for MOTW: pumpkin cakes sweetheart sunshine huggie bear light of my life (often hostile)#dean hanging out eith his best friend: man buddy pal homeslice homie bud (sexually charged with divorce)#also a big fan of castiel asshole of the Lord being deadpan but getting all soft and smiling shyly when dean says he is his best friend#NO ONE TOUCH ME DAMMIT
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Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with himđ€Łâ€
LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC đ€§đđ
Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! đ
Come & check out my COD m.list!
You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work.Â
And then, one day, he surprises them with a âsheâd love yâall to come over one day.â
âDidnât you say sheâs a lilâ shy?â Kyle voiced out everyoneâs thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.
âShe is, yeah, but sheâs open tâmeeting a few pals oâmine.â Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasnât hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.
And, well, it would be rude to decline a ladyâs generous offer, now, would it?
Johnnyâs hyped, no doubt, his friendsâno, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didnât even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.
And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friendsâ arrival.Â
With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.
You introduced yourself, âItâs nice to finally meet you guys.â
Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they wouldâve thought you were scared of them. But, you werenât and the proud smile on Johnnyâs face says it all.Â
Why wouldnât he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and Johnâs hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.
But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense.Â
In the words of Johnny; âOpposites attract, after all.â
And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whippedâŠ. Was putting it lightly.
Itâs funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.
Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.
Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldnât bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. Heâs expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.
âSHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAYâ type of beat, but itâs the man whoâs saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).
But theyâd be lying if they said they didnât enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings donât go his way, even though it all went well in the end.
Why wouldnât they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?
âJohnny, câmon, now, sheâs a part of the family! Sheâll need some photos oâyou for when you move in together soon.â Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldnât even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.
But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasnât your intention, your home is another.
A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats.Â
Oh, the seats.
John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it.Â
Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, itâs no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you.Â
Dare they say, the visit felt like a âcultural resetâ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isnât something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want.Â
Bonus: Johnâs definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a missionâlike it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!
âMâtellinâ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something tâsay, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.â He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.
âSounds like a keeper to me.â
Ë Â· . f i n . · Ë
#â reve's reverie đč#â reve's asks đč#eyes locked hands locked series#soap#soap x reader#soap x f!reader#soap x you#cod soap#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x f!reader#soap mactavish x you#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x you#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x f!reader#johnny mactavish x you#johnny mactavish#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish x you#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod mwiii#cod mw3
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i feel like iâve said this already but someone please tell me iâm not the only one who uses specific colored heart emojis for specific groups of people
#sab rambles#is this a queer people thing or a different group thing lol#my closest most darling pals and partners get purple#my other friends get bloo#green for one person i know from hs bc he loves pickles so ofc he gets green#pink or sparkly pink for acquaintances and folks i am less close to#red hearts for my parents#my sister does not get hearts unless they are ironic sparkly hearts she gets sarcastic love you habibitiiiiiii#sarcastic but also deadass lol
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Dp x Dc AU: Damian and Ellie become friends, and for all his research into her âGuardianâ older siblings, he canât seem to understand why theyâre asking after his own homelife.Â
Ellie was an annoyance to him from the moment they met, and this unfortunately meant that her and Jon got along like a house on fire. Sheâd transferred to Gotham Academy in the middle of the year and clearly had no idea what a private school was like politically- She walked right up to him and declared them friends. Heâd retorted something about preferring to be enemies, she immediately had a shark like grin and after school they had their first spat- which Jon immediately flew into town for upon hearing Damianâs typically fight related biometrics (which, yes, he always listened for).Â
Immediately upon Jon pulling them apart, Ellie asked again if they could be friends and Damian accepted. Jon is bewildered but hey! New Pal! And she can throw down! How Neat! (plus she didnât ask how Jon appeared so quickly-he wasnât caught flying because of their fight- success! Identity kept secret!)Â
Ellie eventually invites them over to her place since she lives closest to the school, and the apartment is meager if not incredibly well kept. Jazz is the one home at this time, makes them all some apple slices and ensures that they did their homework. Jon declares that Lois would love her. Jazz asks if Damian is safe at home, and she has a weird green color to her eyes for just a second when she asks, but Damian assures her that the Wayne family is merely a rambunctious one with too many children.Â
The next time they come by her older brother Danny is the one who is home, and he looks absolutely exhausted as he mixes instant coffee granules into his energy drink. Damian learns that heâs an engineer at WE and working night shifts- apparently Danny was home the last time they visited but was asleep. Danny also kind of looks at Damian funny for a second, and asks if heâs safe at home, Ellie protests that they canât keep asking him and Damian defends his family once more.Â
Damian goes home after one of their visits and at the family dinner table if there is anything about him that reads as âabused childâ since he keeps getting this treatment by the Nightengale siblings. Tim doesnât add anything towards Damianâs predicament but does explain that Danny Nightengale is off limits from the rest of the family- Heâs not to be adopted and heâs not to be researched, this dude is his main engineer on a Bat project and Timâs personal project to crack.Â
Jason, who happened to attend because it was Alfredâs Eggplant Parmesan night, voices that his new therapist is also a Nightengale. Sheâs great (the whole family has noticed) but heâs also contemplating dropping her as a therapist for... reasons. (The whole family understands that heâs in love with her and theres a betting pool around it.)Â
Bringing the conversation back to the start, Bruce suggests that Damian invite them over for dinner so that they can see he has a stable homelife. Tim and Jason protest but it gets ignored. Damian asks Ellie at school and she happily accepts with âGreat! I canât wait to haunt your house!âÂ
The Nightengales arrive, and fit right in. The evening goes off without out any major issues or bumps in the road- although the entire family + Danny are all keen on Jason pursuing Jazz (who keeps refusing to comment despite blushing every other word he says to her). Ellie is adored by the whole family, though Damian does his best to threaten them away. Danny is incredibly loose lipped about the project heâs working on to Timâs horror but Danny just kind of winks and says âthis feels like a room of people that can keep a secret.â (Danny doesnât know theyâre bats, he just assumes this cause theyâre all family and so nice.)
Eventually at the end of the night Bruce asks why they keep asking after Damianâs homelife and safety- what makes them so concerned? Danny just spills the beans:Â
âIâve met a lot of undead in my day, but Damian was brought back to life in a way Iâm still trying to understand. Like Jason? Easy peasy, got dipped in the green stuff. Damian? So Strange. Plus like the kid is like 15, it took me until 14 to die the first time but I had a portal to another dimension under my house and he lives in a mansion.âÂ
Chaos.Â
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New In Town
Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!
It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.
At you.
Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that youâd opted to stay home today. After all, you hadnât been to church in ages.Â
So what on earth possessed you to return today?
Itâs not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again â now that youâd finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.
That had been nearly three years ago.
These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the townâs only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as youâd struggled to cope with the loss of the only family youâd ever had.Â
And now that youâd deemed life worth living again youâd apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Churchâs Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadnât counted on when youâd politely â and strategically â taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that youâd end up sharing it with the likes of him.   Â
That bounty hunter fella that youâd been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.
At least thatâs what Charline Marshall had said when sheâd stopped by your shop to return a book sheâd purchased because she didnât care for the ending. While you werenât usually one for gossip, youâd been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.
Two Days AgoâŠ
âHis name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?â Sheâd whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . âBut heâs a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes Iâve ever seen.â
âOh really?â Youâd mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.
âMhm. Heâs handsome all over.â Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. âAnd not only that, butâŠâ Sheâd leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. âI think he likes me.â
âOh? Has he come out and said that?â Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldnât be? The woman was beautiful and, whatâs more, she knew it. Â
âWell, I meanâŠnot yet.â The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. âBut Iâm almost certain he will. Iâm just giving him time to get settled in, you know?â Sheâd said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change.Â
âHow kind of you.â Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet.Â
âAri has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.â Sheâd tucked the cash from her return into her purse. âI think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think thatâll work?â
âI guess youâll never know if you donât try.â Even though you were annoyed, youâd pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.
âWhy, I think you just might be right.â Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. âAnd this?â
âItâs on the house, Charline.â Youâd patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. âBest of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.â
âWell, arenât you just a gem?â Sheâd all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. âYou know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, youâd probably be able to land a man too. Youâd be awful pretty if youâd just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean ââÂ
âNo thanks.â Youâd simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig.Â
It wasnât worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes.Â
âIf you say so, sugar. Butââ Sheâd responded as she strode towards the door. âOh! You should come to my next party. Weâll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.â  Â
'No offense, Charline, but Iâd rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your motherâs closest friends.'Â You'd thought to yourself.
âUh, maybe. Weâll see.â Youâd hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. âEnjoy the bookmark!â God, youâd never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.
Which brought you back to the present. Youâre startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turnerâs sermon. You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock.Â
Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes.Â
Unfortunately for you, you donât realize that now youâre the one whoâs staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: âhowdyâ. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like.Â
Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.
Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him.Â
On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.
So much for making a clean getaway.
âYouâre not staying for the potluck?â She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath.Â
âAfraid not, Sister Winans.â You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. âIâve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.â
âBut itâs Sunday, honey.â The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. âThis is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. Itâs all right there in the good Book.â
âBe that as it may, Sister, Iâm afraid I canât stay. Plus I wouldnât feel right about eating when I didnât bring a dish to contribute, soâŠâ You offer up a one-armed shrug. âNext time.âÂ
You also werenât a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that youâd left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.  Â
âButââ
âNext time. I promise.â You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. âBy the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyerâs latest book for you.â
âYou did?â
âYep.â You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. âStop by anytime. Weâll consider it an early birthday present, alright?â Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car.Â
Unlocking it, you climb in the driverâs seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate.Â
Yeah, no such luck.Â
âFuck you, Levinson.â You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, heâd stay far away from you.
Heâd have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bellâs Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But firstâŠ
You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.
ENDÂ
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#cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series#chris evans imagines#ari levinson imagines#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans x you#ari levinson x you#chris evans x black!reader#ari levinson x black!reader#chris evans x woc!reader#ari levinson x woc!reader#chris evans x black reader#ari levinson x black reader#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans x girlfriend!reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female!reader#ari levinson x girlfriend!reader#chris evans x poc!reader#ari levinson x yn#chris evans x yn#ari levinson x y/n#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson girlfriend!reader#chris evans x fem!reader#ari levinson x fem!reader#cevansbrat0007 fics
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Sabor A Chocolate
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend eddie and his symbiote pal just make sure you know how loved you are.
warnings: sfw (there's always a first), tooth rotting fluff, my attempt at comedy (less funnier than friends), age gap (blog's brand ofc), chubby!reader, she's very insecure but actually deserves the worldđ, angst, hurt/comfort, discussions of body image (neg), venom/eddie giving her the love she deserves!!!! kinda took some inspo on elefante's song by the same name of the title, set before venom 2 (not important actually)
word count: 2,580 words
side note: so i watched again venom 3 now that it's available on stream and i'm full of grief for my black little people eater alienđ anywayyyy this is a based on this request; i hope u enjoy it my lil' frien :) ALSO tysm for leaving ur message!!!!!!!!!
It was Mrs. Chen's fault, really.
It all started with a late trip to the convinience store, which happened to be owned by one of your mother's closest friends.
Final's week was approaching, and with all the academic pressure, you tend to study until late hours, which means snack time can also end up happening in the middle of the night. Which is the reason why you're scouring through the store at 10pm, your hand occupied with some chocolates and chips to endure the rest of the study session you've got ahead.
The door makes its silly sound, announcing a new customer.
"Hey Eddie!" you hear Mrs. Chen's voice. You hide behind one of the shelves, ashamed of your aspect: one thing is a close elderly friend seeing you like this, another is a total stranger watching your final's week look: consisting of a long over-sized shirt with a washed up Welcome To San Francisco! on the front, some pajama shorts that ride up your thighs, a ponytail-bun hybrid and bare face.
"Hello, Mrs. Chen" the gravely voice returns. Oh, it's a guy: a guy with a very nice tone. You wonder if the face matches the voice, "looking good"
If possible, you get more embarrased than before. You don't usually have that much game, but if you were to get a chance, it definetely won't happen with you looking like this. You desperately want to get out, but leaving the food behind is a huge no. Also, getting out through the door without the man noticing is quite literally imposible.
She snickers, "I always look good!"
You decide to stay put until he leaves, hiding next to the chocolate shelf.
"What are you getting tonight, Eddie?" the elder woman makes a pause, "let me guess..."
You hear foot-steps against the floor, the sound growing stronger and closer. You pray to anyone out there who can hear you to stop what you think's going to happen.
"You already know what it is, Mrs. Chen" a beat, "chocolates!"
He screams first. You then scream, and then Mrs. Chen shuts you two idiots up.
"Stop shouting in my store! You'll scare possible customers"
"I'm sorry" Eddie says, then turns to you again and repeats his apology, "I'm sorry"
"I'm sorry too" you laugh, ashamed. "I didn't mean to scare you"
Now, Eddie takes in your figure better. Yes, your aspect is very poor, but it doesn't erase your beauty. He can understand: thanks to Venom, he's been sweaty and bad-looking before.
"Is everything okay?" you ask, growing a bit self conscious with the staring. It's definitely happened before, and not for good reasons.
"Yes!" he answers hastily, then coughs, rosy cheeks on display. "I'm Eddie, by the way"
"Glad we cleared that up" you chirp, almost breathing with relief on the spot, "I'm y/n!"
"Pretty name" he whistles, "pleased to see the name matches the face"
"Oh" you blush furiously. Is he being for real? This absolutely gorgeous strong older man? It's like a dream come true; maybe it is. No way a man, a good looking one on top of that, notices you, especially now that you're looking the worst possible ever.
"Are you buying or what?" Mrs. Chen pops up from behind you both. "Flirt later, after you buy. Outside"
"Geez, Mrs. Chen. I thought you were my friend" he feigs sadness, a hand over his chest. "You sure know how to kill a guy's game"
You giggle, and Mrs. Chen looks at you, then at Eddie and smiles. Ah, you know that look. God, this is about to turn very embarrassing.
"Not with y/n" she elbows your side, not so discreet. "My girl here is difficult to scare"
You turn red again. "Don't know what that says about me" then you lean closer to Eddie, whispering. He gets a whiff of the strawberry splash you put on yourself (you may look bad, but smell bad? never). "Mrs. Chen's friends with my mom, please don't listen to anything she says"
"Well, thank you, Mrs. Chen" he then looks at you and winks. He mouths an I'll help you, and you find yourself blushing for the 100th time. "Help me check this out, won't you?" he shows some chocolates. She leaves with Eddie, saying something like For your friend, right? but you're too busy thinking about how that could've gone in a more embarrassing way. The downside? She totally noticed the exchange; after the wink and asking your name part, you're positive it isn't one-sided.
"Hey, um. Y/n, right?" you nod too vigorous, like a fool. Just a name exchange and you're already this down bad? You need to stop. "Do you need help with that?" he points out the snacks that, at this point, you've already forgotten about.
"Oh! I can carry it myself" you dismiss.
"No, not that kind of help. I can see you're doing a pretty good job yourself" he gets closer, and your skin gets goosebumps at the closeness, even feeling his breathe on you. He's making you nervous just like that. "I'll pay for it"
Low husky voice whispering to you? Close proximity? And paying for your snacks at the very first meet? Is this some sort of trick or a straight out of a rom-com scenario?
You tend to more skeptical, but this guy is definitely working on you.
"C'mon. Don't leave me hanging in here, doll" he encourages, seeing your lack of motion. You blush (again) at the compliment. "Rough night?"
"Just finals" you answer while giving him your two snacks.
"Are you in college?" you nod. Then, you both walk to the entrance, where Mrs. Chen gives you with a look you try to ignore. She checks out your snacks and his chocolates. You wonder if he likes the same as yours, and why he's got so many of them. "Wow, what are you studying?"
"Journalism!" you answer a bit too excited, but God, don't you love your degree. "The reason I'm studying journalism is because I love to write. Through it, I would love to help others without a voice, you know?
"Wanna know something funny? I'm what you'd call a journalist as well"
"What?!" you shout a bit too loud, perhaps because of ease or perhaps of laugh at the timing of it all.
"Yeah! Are you from San Francisco?" he asks.
"No" you answer, confused as to where it leads. "Moved in for college"
"That explains it" he grabs the items he's just payed for, handing them back to you. "You know, I'm sort of famous around here. Ever heard of Cletus Cassidy?"
"Cactus what-?"
"Oh, Eddie" she laughs, mockingly. "Y/n here is as pretty and young as she looks. Of course she doesn't know who you are!" she snickers.
"Nevermind" he says ashamed. "Jesus, you sound more like a hater than a friend"
"It's all right!" you chime in, nervously. You're afraid you've fucked it up. "I can investigate you- oh, that sounded bad. Investigate your career, um. You know what I mean! It's kind of what I do, after all. Part, at least, of what I do"
"It's alright, doll" you could get used to this. A gravely rich voice calling you such. "No need to be nervous"
He looks thoughtful for a moment, and you start to fear your yapping or in general, the strange appeal or whatever magical reason he was interested in you, has vanished. As soon as he gets out of the store with you, fear creeps in. Is it all over? Was this a brief glimpse of what dating life is like? A chance you'll probably never get again. But then, he says:
"Can I have your number?"
"Sure!" you sound kind of glad about it, "do I put it in your phone?"
Eddie hands it to you, smiling when he sees what you've saved yourself as:
Y/n đ»đ«
"There you go" you say as you exit, and Mrs. Chen keeps looking through the glass. You hastily dismiss her, but you know she'll soon gush to your mother about it. "Thanks for everything"
"No problem" he winks. Oh, the nerve of this guys. "See you around, y/n. Good luck on those finals!"
You have to shut your demons for a while. Meet-cute-at-the-convenience-store guy seems to be truthful about it!
You'll just have to see how long it lasts.
Flash forward: it's lasted! Now Eddie is your boyfriend. Four months dating and you feel in heaven!
Yes, a bit of your demons have come out here and there, but Brock's been there to kiss away every single one of them. Venom too! Ah, yes: the alien symbiote that lives inside of your lover. Even he has taken to your liking! Being honest, meeting him did scare you at first; kind of a mind-blowing confession to make on your 1 month anniversary, but you soon learned surprises are a common thing if you're dating the so-called Lethal Protector. You both share chocolate filled afternoons when he takes over Eddie (he hates sharing yet let's his pal have some fun with you), watching a movie or two with his silly little comments on the background, sharing his alien-like knowledge with you (whatever that means).
So yeah, it's been a few months and you couldn't be happier!
Today, Eddie's supposed to pick you up from college. He has done so the last couple of weeks, and if you've seen people whispering behind your back, you've been smart to ignore it.
But today as you walk to your usual spot where Eddie picks you up, you hear the comments of two of your classmates (you recognize) from a class you take:
"They haven't broken up yet?" the other one laughs.
"She must've used some kind of dark magic, because there is no way that guy is with her"
"Yeah" the first one agrees, "y/n's weird just like that"
They aren't being discreet, and you start to believe they're choosing to do so, because next thing you know, they're talking about your body.
You begin growing self-conscious of your appearance: a sweater and a skirt, something Eddie loves seeing on you (he says it's easier to do stuff) but you can't help and start to feel insecure about the skin of your bare legs. You tense, tighlty grabbing the exposed flesh between your fingers, the tissue doughty under your hands. You hate yourself more often than you love, and it's harder to remember the positive side when you hear your thoughts loud in the mouth of other people.
The sound of a roaring engine cuts through the cloud of negative thoughts.
"Y/n!" you love it when he calls your name, enjoying every second of it. But now you just want to get out of here.
"Hey" you get closer to him, hoping on the bike. It's a big distance between you and the two classmates, but you still hear them say:
"It looks like a strong bike" pause. You feel sick, "I hope it won't break"
Eddie feels your arms cage him a little stronger than usual. "Hey, is everything okay?"
You hide your face against his back. "Please, let's go"
"You aren't going to say goodbye to your friends?" he looks back at the girls waving in your direction.
"Let's go!" you plead, rougher. He then realizes the girl are waving at him and not you, a flirty wink his way proving it.
Oh. He gets it now.
"Don't worry, doll" he caresses your hand. "I got you"
Then he speeds, not before making sure he leaves the girls who were harrasing you inside a cloud of smoke that makes them cough. Eddie looks back to see if you're laughing, but your face remains against his back, and he can feel his shirt start to damp.
Shit.
When you arrive at his apartment, your pace is fast, rushing through the stairs and entering his place first.
"Doll?" he calls out, but you don't answer. All he hears is small sobs, and his heart breaks. He finds you lying on his bed, your face hidden against his pillows. "Look at me, y/n"
"Y-you don't get it" you hiccup.
"I think I do" he purses his thick lips, "those girls were jealous of you"
"Jealous of me? Sure" you let out a dry laugh. "If anything, I'm jealous of them!"
He scoots closer, a hand resting on your back. "And why would you be jealous of two girls like that?"
"Because they're pretty" you confess, voice small. "Their bodies are perfect; doesn't matter if they're ugly on the inside. People mostly care about the outside"
"I see what's hapenning" he forces you to look at him, and your puffy red eyes make his chest pang. He needs you to know how beautiful you are, no matter how much you try to deny it. "You think you're ugly"
"Eddie!" you whisper-shout, alarmed.
"Hey! I never said that was my opinion" he says, tone defensive and arms raising up. "That is yours. A wrong one, by the way"
You scoff. "Yeah? why?"
You know Eddie loves you, but after today, you need to hear it.
"Because I don't like ugly people" you laugh in disbelief, "it's true! I love you because you're beautiful, in and out"
"Bullshit" you challenge, tears welling up again. You may start to see the light, but your demons come back to haunt you in whispered dark thoughts.
"You want me to list all the reasons I love you?"
You sniff. "Are there any? I mean, why are you with me, Eddie?"
No. He absolutely won't let you speak about yourself like that.
He grabs your face gently, wiping some tears. "I love you because you're the smartest, funniest, driven, most caring woman I've met, inside the hottest body of all times!" he squishes your side, and you laugh because of the ticklish sensations. "Haven't I shown you so? How much I worship it in bed? You've got to be kidding me! I wouldn't know what else to do or say to convince you of just how perfect you are!"
"Eddie..." you whimper his name out, lunging forward and enveloping him on a hug. He brushes you hair, softly.
"Listen, y/n. I understand your feelings, but it's unfair how bad you see and treat yourself. You are beautiful, no matter what anyone else says, and that's the point: beauty starts from within. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you so, because if you don't believe in yourself, it's all in vain"
"I'm sorry" you hug him tightly, "I wish I liked me more; to see me how you see me. Thanks for having patience"
"No need to thank me for anything" he assures, kissing your temple. "I don't get tired of telling you how much I like your eyes, a delicious invitation to taste you. Or your peachy skin, rosy and soft in all the perfect places. Or your chocolate heart: warm and sweet. You're bascially a ticket to heaven"
"Thanks" you whisper again, much more calm. "I love you, Eddie"
"Well, I love you too, doll"
"I love you too!" It's Venom, who appears next to Eddie. "You're the prettiest human girl I've ever met!"
"If it makes you feel better, I can eat those sluts" he offers softly, and you pet him while laughing, although Eddie rolls his eyes. The nerve of this guy.
"Seriously? Read the room budy!"
#dilfistquickwrites#eddie brock#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x you#eddie brock fanart#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock fluff#eddie brock fanfic#venom#venom movie#venom symbiote#venom fluff#venom spoilers#venom 3#venom the last dance#marvel#marvel fluff#x chubby reader#x plus size reader
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picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.
you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.
so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.
so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.
and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.
and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?
This is my favorite book Iâve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this
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Play wrestling with bff Steve and getting giggly when he just straight up manhandles you đđđ
â¶Â â SORE LOSER !
summary: steve harrington doesn't like to let you win until he realizes how good it feels to lose. pairing: best friend!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 1.6k warnings: a lil bit suggestive towards the end, but nothing crazy a/n: i got super carried away with this lol i kinda just took this request and ran with it and well... here we are :) enjoy!
Steve never lets you win.Â
He thinks itâs letting you off too easy.
The boyâs competitive to a fault. He canât stomach a loss, even if itâs in something as meaningless as a carnival game you only wanted to play for the giant dinosaur plushie thatâs half the size of you.Â
He always ends up giving it to you when he inevitably wins, wearing a big smug smile on his pretty, pink lips. You take it from him with a pout. The childlike scowl is quelled only by the funnel cake he buys you after.
It doesnât matter what it is â a game of monopoly, trivia questions on the ends of popsicle sticks, taking in the groceries â Steve finds a way to make all of it competitive. He wants to have the most fake money and little fake properties, he wants to shout the answer before anyone else can, he wants to carry more heavy plastic bags than everyone else. Just to say that he did it.
If you put this much effort into school, youâd be in college right now, Harrington, youâd tease.
Not my fault youâre a sore loser, heâd retort. Iâll let you win the next one, sunshine. Promise.
He never does.
You and Steve play-wrestle like a couple of kids. It usually comes out of nowhere. Youâll make fun of him, heâll shove at you, and youâll shove back harder. Then it just turns into a game of whoâs stronger than who â and itâs always him. Obviously.Â
You try your hardest to prove your strength, pushing at him with nimble fists and wriggling something fierce in his hold, but you come out red-faced with a participation ribbon laced within his taunts. And even though heâs got several inches on you and quite a bit more muscle, he never lets you win. Ever.
He manhandles you, perhaps a little too rough at times, but it wasnât like he had to be kind to you. You werenât dating or anything, you were best friends â this is what a couple of pals do, right?
They play fight on the carpet of the otherâs movie room after being told their closest confidant would murder them in a game of fuck, marry, kill between Anthony Michael Hall and Robert Downey Jr. with zero hesitation.
Friends totally force the other onto the ground by grabbing at the bottoms of their thighs before kneeling over them, wrenching their wrists in their grip and pressing their hands to the ground on either their head.
Itâs the definition of being best buds. Truly.
For the first time, you manage to get the better of him. Youâre pressed beneath his weight, breathing heavy and rapidly tiring, and you wave the white flag of surrender.
Just when Steve's letting you up and swiping a hand through his mussed hair, you force him onto his back and straddle his waist â like he always did to you â and giggle with mirth at the idea of finally beating him.
He doesnât find a similar enthusiasm in it, though. His tune changes almost immediately.
You beam down at him, the words of a taunt on the tip of your tongue, and you notice how his cheeks flare pink. His honey-colored eyes widen and his mouth falls softly agape. He glows red in embarrassment and you think heâs just upset that he lost, but he sounds like heâs panicking. The words rush out of his mouth â âAlright, shit, fineâ you win, sunshine. Get off, alright? Off, off, off.âÂ
His hand swats at the side of your knee to hurry you off him.
âAlright, jeez!â you concede with the roll of your eyes, halfway annoyed that he just canât let you win anything. âYou donât have to be such a sore loser about it, Harringtonââ
You understand his haste in that moment, when you feel him brush your inner thigh. Like, all of him â as in, the boner trapped in the sweatpants heâs wearing, all rock hard and raging in its cotton confines.
Suddenly, youâre just as bashful and panicked as he is.Â
Your eyes lock at the rock hard realization but neither of you can think of anything to say.
Do you apologize? Do you act like you didnât feel anything? Do you trust your voice to make a stupid joke so you can move on and forget any of this ever happened? Youâre not quite sure.
And in the five-second silence, Steve just wants to die. Internally, heâs praying for a strike of lightning to take him out on the spot because heâs never been more embarrassed in his life.
Heâs certain that heâs grossed you out, or worse, made you irreversibly uncomfortable.
In the mess of thoughts running through his head, he tries to rush out some apology that might soothe the awkward air. Your laughter does all the work for him before he can.
It bubbles like sunshine from your mouth, filling the silence and allowing Steve to breathe again. He finds himself chuckling under his breath with you, though heâs still red-faced about it.
âYeah, yeah, yeah. Keep laughing, sunshine,â he chides with the roll of his eyes, though a smile hints at the edges of his mouth. He rises on his elbows to look at you. âWhat was I supposed to do? Your tits were in my face and your ass was on my dickâ sorry for being human!â
âSorry, alright? Iâm sorry,â you manage through hearty giggles. You settle finally at his side and look over at him, still grinning. âWant me to leave so you can⊠take care of it or whatever?â
He knows youâre joking but he shakes his head anyway. âNah, itâll go away. Letâs just⊠finish this stupid movie.â
âStupid movie? You picked it!â
âYeah, so I could see Kelly Lebrock in a bikini!â he argues back, more thankful for the familiar bickering than he ever thought heâd be. âBut you made me miss it!â
âItâs not my fault you canât keep your hands to yourself.â
âWatch it, sunshine,â he grumbles, half-heatedly. âDonât start something you canât finish.â
âI think youâre the one who needs to worry about finishing, Harrington,â you joke and giggle when he shoves you.
You wouldâve helped him, if he wanted you to. You know itâs uncomfortable and that itâs partially your fault. You also know that all of those are just excuses to cover up the fact that youâve always wondered what his cock looks like.
Heâd need only ask you, but you know that he wonât.
Even if he did like you in that way, itâd just make things all complicated. And that was totally the opposite of the effortless relationship youâve developed with him. The kind of effortless where he can be rock hard next to you, and youâve both decided to just move on from it.
Steve, meanwhile, spends the rest of the movie not watching a single damn minute of it. Heâs too busy trying to calm himself down like a teenage boy and figuring out he can get you on top of him again without being too obvious about the whole thing.
He decides he might just start swallowing his pride and let you win sometimes.
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#st drabbles#stevie drabble
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ok ok!! ya got me to start a talkin!! ok so anyways im not much of a storyteller but my hc is post movie so big fat spoilers on the way
anyway, elitas been like SUPER clingy to optimus after she gives him the lil pep talk
peep the images. constantly being by his side. heck, even CHOOSING to run ACROSS the battlefield to be next to him
so oppys like âhmm, she DOES know what sheâs doing and i do need someone whoâs more experienced in leading.â
yea THAT scene (her flustered âwho me đ„ș??â will forever be living rent free in my mind)
(ew wips)
optimus: Well, Iâve been thinking of another promotion; With the Quintessons still at large, thereâs a chance theyâll have my head. Iâm needing a bodyguard. Someone by my side 24/7 to ensure I donât make âstupid decisionsâ
(im terrible at writing dialogue dont bully me đđđœ)
so elita sees this as an opportunity. Which yknow, her whole character arc was her wanting to prove herself and all.
especially now bc she feels SO SO guilty that she couldnât save optimus, or stop Megatron in time :((
(adding to this hc she does cling to his left arm after the events(tm)
Oh yea and oppy now lives in the tower as he is now The Leader Of Cybertron
he moves most of his pals in their too (jazz, B, WheelJack, Arcee etc.)
HOWEVER THO
(nother wip)
he wants elita in HIS quarters bc shes his bodyguard. so of course heâs gonna need her berth closest to him
(Perhaps 2 ppl 1 bed trope teehee đ€)
anyway. das my 2 cents. i hope that helped in anyway for prompts. again i aint much of a storyteller but i have concepts!!
I need to break this down into a summary of my favorite points because WHAT THIS IS SO GOOD!
Clingy Elita. Makes sense, especially her tendency to be on his left. Launchpad for tension, perhaps Optimus starting to wonder if sheâs okay because sheâs being overprotective even for a bodyguard.
Optimus seeking leadership advice from Elita since she was the captain of his mining team and heâs never been in an authoritative role for anyone ever. Builds trust, confidence, and mutual respect between them. Beautiful.
Mutual subconscious pining revealed through Elitaâs desire to prove herself via protecting and advising Optimus and through Optimusâ desire to station her as close to him as possible at all times, maybe because he is as afraid of losing her as sheâs afraid of losing him (again). Did I mention mutual pining? đ€
Optimus not just taking over Sentinelâs tower (does anyone know its official name?) but sharing it as a sort of headquarters with his Autobot High Command. Love exploring the facets of his being that separates him from mecha like Sentinel, selflessness being one of the biggest differences.
Thank you so much Munejewels I am eating this up for dessert tonight and will use it as inspiration to produce a banquet for my fellow Optimus Prime X Bodyguard Elita fans
#transformers#maccadam#optimus prime#transformers one#tf one#elita one#orion pax#oplita#tf one optimus prime#tf one orion pax#tf one elita#optimus x elita#munejewels#tf fanfic#tf fanfic idea#tf one spoilers#spoilers
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Turkish Delight
peter maximoff x reader smut
chapter 1: sweet talkin'
link to chapter 2: here
warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk
word count: 6,368
a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!
tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays
â âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ â âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ â âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ â âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ âĄâ
Chillaxing on the sofa in his momâs basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.
Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of âem. Soap Operas? Those were more his momâs thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.
Oh. It was the one about the polar bearâs great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. ĐĄĐșŃŃĐœŃĐč (boring). йаĐș ŃĐșŃŃĐœĐŸ (So boring).
âKay, sooooâŠTV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The gameâs opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.
Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the gameâs dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.
He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didnât even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.
Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peterâs closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.
There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he âboughtâ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - heâd reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.
He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃŃĐ·ŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.
Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.
âYou know, Iâm surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.â You joked.
The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didnât register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.
âSeriously? Man, whatâs up with that? Itâs like everyone thinks I canât do stuff at normal speed without goinâ berserk.â He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.
A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.
âBecause you have? Multiple times, dude!â You said.
Surely you could hear Peterâs eyes roll in his skull.
âOh, yeah? Name five.â he pressed.
The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, heâd bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.
âIâm just saying! I totally get it. Even I donât have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.â You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.
More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each gruntâs gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.
âNah, itâs cool.â Peter mumbled after a beat, âDoesnât bother me much if Iâm talkinâ to you. Youâre not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, Iâm gonna hang up. And you wonât get-uhhhâŠâ He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, âYou wonât get, like, butt hurt over it."
âWhy would I?â You laughed, âDid someone seriously get offended by that?â
âMy aunt did once. She got mad pissed âcuz I told her I was âkinda boredâ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a âlack of consideration'; âer whatever.â Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, âSheâs kinda mental, though. ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ (itâs outrageous).â
Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.
âHey, youâre not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethinâ later?â He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.
âI donât know. Iâm feeling soooooo lazy today.â You playfully teased.
The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peterâs neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.
âĐ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.â He replied, âTell you what. If you do, Iâll go ân snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?â
Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.
âOh my gosh!! No way?? I havenât had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?â You chimed.
âHell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. Câmonnnn.â Peter whined, âIâm so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ân try it ouuuuuut.â He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.
âGameboys and Turkish delights? Youâre spoiling me today, Peter! Whatâs the occasion?â You joked over the line.
He shrugged, forgetting you couldnât see him, âBored outta my frigginâ skull. Thatâs what.â After a beat, he awkwardly added, âAnd maybe I like hanginâ with you? Do I even need a reason?â
âWell, I gotta admitâŠyou had me at Turkish delights.â You feigned a dreamy tone.
Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, â ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ° (Thatâs all you need, huh)?â
âHuh?â You asked, oblivious to his comment, âWhatâd you say? I didnât catch that last part.â
Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.
âNothinâ. Donât worry about it. You want me to come get you? âCuz I can.â He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, âI can right now, if you-â
âItâs fine. I love going out with you, but I really donât wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!â Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didnât realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, âIâll just drive over. Sound good?â
Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.
âAuuuuuuugh! But thatâll take years.â He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, âIs this âcuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesnât bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.â
You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , âPlease, donât remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, Iâd rather not. I really need a break from it.â You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.
âItâs whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?â Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.
He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.
âIâll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?â You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, âItâs so cold today. I havenât even gotten out of bed yet! Iâm still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didnât even know they still made those!â
âYeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.â Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, âOkay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-â
Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peterâs brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.
âĐĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐž (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit âŠhold on a sec.â He narrowed his eyes, âSay that again?â
âSay what again? The part about the Game n Watch?â You asked, and Peterâs brows furrowed.
âN-Nah. TheâŠdid you justâŠhave you been lyinâ around in your underwear this whole time?â
âUh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?â You chuckled.
âIn my jacket? Like, I didnât hear that wrong? Whatâd you likeâŠsleep in it âer somethinâ?â Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.
It really wasnât that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromonesâŠ
ĐбаŃŃ (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goinâ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.
Whatever the case, Peterâs mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - ĐĐ±Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-
Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldnât beâŠnah, he really shouldnât be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt âŠâkay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?
âWell, so what if I did? That doesnât weird you out, does it?â You asked, a careful waver in your voice.
âUhhhhâŠnahhh, babe. JustâŠâ Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, âJustâŠgot one hell of an image in my head. Mightâve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.â
Lucky for him, you didnât seem to think anything of his confession.
âNot much to imagineâŠâ You replied. ĐĄĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ (Doubtful).
âI meanâŠpffbbbtttâŠsure, yeah. Maybe not.â Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, âUnlessâŠyouâre wearinâ some really cute panties over there.â Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, âIâm kiddinâ. Iâm kiddinâ. Iâm kiddinâ. Iâm totally messinâ. Just bustinâ your balls, babe.â
ExceptâŠhe sorta wasnât. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.
âI guess? I think theyâre kind of cute.â You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You werenât peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured youâd moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, âTheyâre pretty small on me, though.â
Ah. Ah. ĐĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.
âYeah? âŠHow small is pretty small?â He dared to ask.
Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter werenât so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.
âSmall enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?â You cooed.
Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.
âI-uhâŠâ Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, âJust thinkinâ...maybe you should do somethinâ about that?â He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, âЧДŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž (damn it)!â He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.
Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-
âSoooooooâŠwhat color?â
You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.
âWhat? A-Are you for real asking meâŠoh my god, dude!â Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, âIf you really wanna know so badâŠthen fine. Theyâre black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.â
ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐŸ (Shit)...
His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. âCuz itâd be totally weird if he did anything elseâŠright? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.
âHuhâŠthatâs soâŠâ Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, ââKay, Iâll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.â
âReally? Oh, please, Peter. Theyâd be cute on anybody.â You scoffed.
âUh huhâŠâ He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, ââCept, now that Iâm really thinkinâ about it? Iâm bettinâ they look criminally cute on you.â Peter lazily smirked.
You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, âWh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-â The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.
Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.
âEasy there, chuckles. Weâre just chatting. Nothinâ too unusual, right? Weâve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. Whatâs the difference, anyway?â Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.
You giggled yet again, âPeter, you know damn well what the difference is!â You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, âIâm kinda wondering, thoughâŠwhat would you think if I told you Iâm topless right now?â
His grip compressed around the handset.
âTopless, huh?â Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, âWhatâre you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothinâ but that?â Peter quipped.
A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peterâs brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.
âI guess that wouldnât be so bad, if it wasnât so cold outside. Itâs freezing today. I donât know how you can run as fast as you do when the weatherâs like this.â Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, âItâs not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. Theyâre, like, soooo hard.â
Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.
â ĐąŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐžŃĐ° (you little temptress)...â  His hot breath fanned the phone.
âI love it when you talk like thatâŠâ You replied, âEven if I have no idea what youâre saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.â
âOh, yeah?â Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, â ĐŻ забŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœĐ”ŃŃĐž ĐŒŃŃĐŸŃ (I forgot to take out the trash)...â For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.
Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, â Oh, yeah, baby. â
The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.
âOhâŠoh, wow...uhmâŠâ You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, âWhatâs that mean? Something good, I hope.â
Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.
âIt means youâre really turninâ me onâŠâ
Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.
âOh my god, no it doesnât! I can hear you laughing!â You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, âHeyâŠIâm sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to askâŠare you okay with this?â
âAre you?â Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.
âI donât knowâŠmaybeâŠâ You whispered, âIsnât this, like, super weird for you?â
âI meanâŠsuuuuuuure. Itâs totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...â He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.
âOhhhhhâŠyou wouldn't be?â Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, âYou know what would be even weirder?â
Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couchâs arm.
âWhazzat? Enlighten me, babe. Iâm listeninâ. You got my full attention.â He teased.
âYour full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.â You snickered, âSoâŠyou know how I said I love it when you talkâŠlike that?â Your voice wavered, âWhat I really meant was-uhmâŠwhen you do that on the phoneâŠit makes me kind of horny.â
His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peterâs pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldnât restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.
âIt does, huh? Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ (Good to know).â Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.
You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, âY-Yeah, Peter, Iâm serious. You really have to stop doing that.â
âĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ (Why)? Are you soakinâ yourself over it? Gettinâ a lil wet? Itâs cool. You can tell meâŠâ Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.
âOh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? Youâre so bad, Quickie...â You teased, clicking your tongue.
Peterâs ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.
âWhat?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! ĐŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃĐżŃĐ°ĐČДЎлОĐČĐŸ, ŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž (itâs not fair. Dammit)!â Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, âYou canât seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-â
âNot to come running?â You hummed, sweet tempered, âIâm just messing with you, baby. But since weâre on the topicâŠI made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.â
Peter couldnât even pretend he didnât like the sound of âbabyâ on your tongue.
âOh, manâŠanything but the pantiesâŠâ He joked, âYou should-uhâŠyou should save yourself some trouble. YâknowâŠtake âem off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.â Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, âJust tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.â
âBut Iâm already so coldâŠâ You whimpered, âYour jacketâs so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But itâs not enough to keep me covered.â You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.
âNo harm done, ĐżŃĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃŃĐ° (princess). Iâll warm you up if you need me to.â He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, âĐąŃ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃДбД? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, âSoâŠdo you get like this every time we talk on the phone?â
âMmmmâŠmaybe.â You hummed, âWhat if I said yes?â You shuffled around again, and Peterâs mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, âYou knowâŠweâve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what youâre wearing? I donât really have a visual.â
âOhâŠme?â Your request caught Peter off guard.
âYeah, you. Who else, blockhead?â You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, âYou donât have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.â
Peter didnât know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.
âUhmâŠIâm not wearinâ a lot? Nothinâ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-â Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, âGot my Star Wars socks on too.â
A sensual moan graced his ears, âThatâs so hot.â You softly whined, âStar Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.â
Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.Â
âNothing else though?â You pressed.
âNnnnnnnnnnope.â He drew out the word, popping the P, âJust the-uhâŠyeah. Boxers ân sexy socks. Not much to take off.â
âAnd youâre pretty fit, arenât you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-â You said.
Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.
âWooooahhhâŠyou been checkinâ me out, babe?â He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, âSure, I guess Iâm in decent shape.â He found he couldnât dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, âHey, you wanna know somethinâ, like, way crazy?â
âThis? What weâre doing right now is so crazy, right?â You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.
Peter snickered, âTrue. Truuuue. But, uhâŠâ He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, âIâm kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uhâŠif you catch my drift.â
The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think heâd hear his closest pal say-
âOhhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?â
Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peterâs breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.
âY-Yeah. Since you-uhâŠstarted talkinâ about your panties. Iâm sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.â He sheepishly chuckled.
âYou poor babyâŠâ You coddled him over the phone. And while he shouldâve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, âCan I ask how big you are?â
Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.
âYou mean my dick? Itâs-uhhhhâŠlike six, maybe seven inches almost?â He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, âBut size doesnât matter, yeah? Itâs the motion of the ocean, babe.â
âNoooooo, baby. Youâre so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like thatâŠâ You cooed over the phone.
Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.
âĐĐ” ŃĐ°Đș ОЎДалŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș ŃŃ ĐČŃглŃĐŽĐžŃŃ (Not as perfect as you look)...â Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, âBabe, I gotta tell ya, Iâm really feelinâ this. Iâm so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkinâ like-uh...â
His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.
âNever thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so muchâŠâ You giggled.
Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.
âM-Maybe a little bit. ĐбаŃŃ (Fuck), maybe a lot.â Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, âCan you - ĐбаŃŃ (fuck) - you wanna do somethinâ for me? Just a little favor between friends? Sâall Iâm askinâ, baby.â
âAnything you want, Peter.â You mewled.
âCan you- mmmmohgod -â Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, âCan you touch yourself for me? Please? ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃĐ°, ĐŒĐŸŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃŃĐ° (Please, my little princess)...â His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.
âYeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. Itâs only fair, right? Equal exchange?â You whispered, acting playful again.
Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, âUhmâŠyeahhhhhâŠabout thatâŠâ
You softly gasped, âHave you been-â
âPlayinâ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.â Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, âBut Iâm not, like, totally jerkinâ it yetâŠâ He lied, pressing you to encourage him.
âOh, youâre not, huh? What are you doing then?â You asked, âAre you being a bad boy, Pietro?â The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.
Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peterâs heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.
âY-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. Iâm just-...Iâm so hard. Donât think I can stop myself if you keep talkinâ like that.â
Through the receiver, Peterâs ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.
âDoes it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?â You cooed.
Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.
âĐĄĐČŃŃĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ°Ń
(Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, âUhmmmâŠhahâŠwow-uhâŠĐбаŃŃ (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Donât think itâs enough. I need-...uhmâŠI want-uhâŠâ
âYeah? What do you want, baby. Itâs okay.â You spoke so sugary sweet again.
âI-...ĐŻ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń
ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐČОЎДŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń (I just want to see you)...â Peterâs veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, âShit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-â And to Peterâs ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, â ĐбаŃŃ (Fuck). â
âLike what?â Your coy voice teased him over the line.
âI dunnoâŠso-uhâŠso damn nasty.â He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.
âI guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong handsâŠhowâs it feel?â You asked, driving him to keep going.
Peter snorted a laugh, âStrong hands? What??â His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, âGodâŠfeels like my strong handâs not enough. ĐĐœĐ” ŃДалŃĐœĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đș ŃОлŃĐœĐŸ (I really need you right now. I need you so much).â His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, âTalk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhhâŠtell me what youâre doinâ over there.â
You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peterâs pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.
âMmmmâŠIâm just doing what you asked me toâŠIâm being so good for you right now.â You whimpered.
âOh. OkayâŠuhmâŠfar out. UhâŠwanna gimme the steamy details?â He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, âPlease, donât hold off on me, baby.â
âIâmâŠâ Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, âIâm playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And Iâm so wet. I canât stop thinking about your handsâŠso bigâŠâ
âĐĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč (my god).â Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, âHoly shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goinâ...â
You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, âI want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, donât make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I donât think theyâd fit all at once. Itâs been a while, and Iâm so tight.â Your naughty voice pleaded.
âGod, I wanna touch you so bad. ĐŻ Ń
ĐŸŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐșĐŸŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃŃĐŸĐč ŃлаЎĐșĐŸĐč ĐșĐžŃĐșĐ” (I want to touch that sweet pussy).â Peterâs impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, âOhhh..Whatâre you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkinâ about how tight you areâŠĐбаŃŃâŠâ
âBut I ammmm.â You whined again, âIâm squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. Itâs so soft and hot for you. Bet itâd feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.â
âPlease, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I wonât go too fast. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐ°Ń (I promise).â Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, âĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ ŃĐ°Đș бŃŃŃŃĐŸ (No, I can. Iâll go so fast).â
âPietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I wonât stop you.â You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, âF-Fuck. Iâm rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.â
âĐбаŃŃ!!â Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, âĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐž (Speaking of speed)...â Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, âYou gotta stop makinâ all those cute noises, baby. PleaseâŠI canât-â
As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.
âBaby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.â You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you couldâve made a pornstar blush, âCan I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?â You whimpered.
âĐ Đ±ĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃĐ° (Oh my god, please)!â Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, âBabyâŠbabe, you canât do this. Ya really canât be-â He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, âStop. Stop. Stop. Iâm gonnaâŠbabe, Iâm gonna bust-â He slurred.
You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.
âIâm gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!â
âŃ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ°Ń, Ń ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ°Ń (Iâm cumming, Iâm cumming)! âM Gonna-â Peterâs moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.
His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peterâs legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peterâs name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.
Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.
On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.
âUhmâŠPeter? HeyâŠare you there?â You asked.
And he didn't say a single word more.
#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximoff#txt#im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!
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COMPARING HAND SIZES â ft. osamu miya, atsumu miya, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime
warnings â reader/you is implied to be shorter because of hand size difference, also let names (baby & love)
âšłOSAMU was confused as to why you wanted to compare hand sizes. youâve held hands a million times so you both knew your hands were smaller. âdo you just wanna hold my hand?â he asked with a skeptical look across his face. âmaybe, maybe not.â you shrugged with a cheeky smile. letting out a sigh the man held up one of his hands and you pressed yours against it immediately. âwouldâve never have guess your hands were bigger,â you joke before he interlocks your fingers. âyeah i bet,â osamu says sarcastically, rolling his eyes before leaning in and planting a quick kiss to your lips.
âšłATSUMU wouldâve suggested it not you. he thinks heâs so slick about it too. âbaby let me see how different our hand sizes are,â he sort of asks before grabbing your hand and putting it right on his. âtsumu are you being serious right now?â you scoff when you feel him pull your hand to his. âyouâve got small hands,â he notes out loud as if you werenât already aware. âgood observation tsumu.â you roll your eyes pulling your hand away. âyouâre no fun,â he pouts from beside you. without saying anything you grab his closest hand and interlock your fingers. âlook we can hold hands,â you say holding up your hands. atsumu smiles at your hands and leans in to kiss your cheek.
âšłAKAASHI knew you were up to something when you asked for his hand. âwhy?â he asked cautiously as he held out his hand to you. âcomparing hand size,â you responded while putting your palms on his. âwait, lowkey we have the same hand size.â you giggle at the sight. akaashi furrowed his eyebrows and blinked at your hands. two different sizesâcompletely different. âyou think youâre funny.â he told you as he got a firm grip on your hand and puked you close to him. âcompletely different hand sizes love,â akaashi added before kissing the top of your forehead. ânice try thoughâ
âšłIWAIZUMI always feeds into your antics and lets you do whatever. he can tolerate your nonsense because itâs second nature to him. âwhy are we comparing hand sizes like weâre in junior high?â he asked while holding his hand up to you. âi need an excuse to hold your hand.â you admit while placing your pal on his proudly. the brunetteâs eyebrows are drawn together in confusion for a moment. âyou donât need an excuse,â he tells you and you smile. âi know i know, let me have fun for once,â you dismiss before interlocking your fingers with his. âfine,â he shakes his head lightly before kissing the top of your head.
reblogs are appreciated
#haikyƫ!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#miya twins#miya twins x reader#akaashi x reader#iwaizumi x reader#atsumu miya#osamu miya#akaashi keiji#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi fluff#akaashi fluff#osamu fluff#atsumu fluff#hq fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu fluff#hq imagines#haikyuu imagines
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Wait, This Is a Date!?
Riddle, Idia, and Malleus with an autistic reader who didn't realize they were on a date
Male/gn reader, autistic reader, missed signals, Idia is implied to also be autistic
A/N: I've noticed that some people aren't very obvious when asking someone out or generally establishing their feelings. I actually realized that one of my ex-friends stopped being friends with me because I wasn't picking up on their signals, what's up with people lmao
One afternoon after you had finished all of your classes, your closest "friend" approached you looking rather nervous and asked you to accompany them later. Seeing this as just a request to hang out was friends, you accepted. When he suddenly thanks you for going on a date with him halfway through your activity your caught off guard.
"Wait, this is a date!?"
Riddle Rosehearts
Oh boy, be prepared to start apologizing because the once surprised look on his face at your sudden outburst melted to one of pure sadness. He was absolutely dejected
He took this as you rejecting him halfway through the date he put so much effort into
He even baked all the pastries for your little tea party date :(
He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He put on a serious face despite clearly being on the verge of tears, and apologized for... making you uncomfortable? Wasting your time?
Well that wasn't what you wanted
In another quick outburst you cut him off and say that you didn't actually mean it in a negative way
You started doing the usual over-explaining hoping that he wouldn't get the wrong idea (more than he already had) and apologizing for not getting his signals
The relief he felt in that moment was something he doesn't think he can compare to anything else in his life
He actually started crying for the fact that "oh thank the sevens they're not rejecting me"
After he calmed down the two of you went back to your tea party date, although both of you aware aware that it was a date this time
bonus: Trey and Cater screaming internally after watching all of that from afar (They'd be there for Riddle's first date as emotional support you can't convince me otherwise)
Idia Shroud
Lord have mercy you're going to kill him
It took him so much to build up the courage Ortho blackmailing him to come over and play video games just for you to not know he was asking you on a date???
He played Stardew Valley with you what could be more romantic than that???
He kinda just sits there and stares at you
He's processing give him a minute
Literally the only response he gives you is just a "Uhh..yeah. Duh." (he's trying to not give away how disappointed he is)
And in you just respond with an "Oh."
Awkward level 100%
After sitting there for a few seconds rocking back and forth to make yourself a little more comfortable, you take a deep breath and lean your head on his shoulder
"Well I like this date."
He tries to hide his flustered face after that, but you can see the tips of his hair turn a soft pink in contrast to the usual blue
He really is bad at hiding his emotions
for the rest of the night the two of you keep playing video games together, and you eventually fall asleep on him, which he freaks out about but tries not to wake you up
Really just two autistics trying to figure out how to date and flirt
Malleus Draconia
So funny thing
He thought the two of you were a couple long before the two of you went on your "first date"
You know that thing on tiktok that's like "check with your autistic s/o that they know your dating because it turns out I've been dating someone for months and had no clue" Yeah that's the two of you
In his eyes it was established that the two of you had been dating. He probably confessed in his old poetic fae way of talking.
So he was just like "You are the sunrise to my day, the cool breeze on a summers day, the blood in my veins." and you were just like "Yep me and my good ol' pal Malleus. besties :)"
What do you mean friends don't give each other little trinkets they find pretty? What to you mean that's fae courting?
What do you mean friends aren't that affectionate? What do you mean friends don't hold hands, hug, and tell each other how much they appreciate them?
Honestly when you burst out with the question, he just laughs after a minute while you sit there flustered and confused
he has to sit you down and explain to you that you've both been dating for at least three months by this point. Lilia was even starting to ask him if he was going to ask you to marry him (he's impatient)
He does make sure that you're okay with this relationship and that you actually want to date him
After this you're relationship grows even stronger rather than growing weaker, he thinks it's endearing
He'll make sure to be more forward and literal with you from now on
if I'm being honest all three of them give me "autistic just not diagnosed yet" vibes. Ty for reading and have a nice day
#sharkboywrites#male reader#twst x male reader#twst x reader#gn reader#mlm#mlm blog#twst#twst fanfic#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x male reader#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia x male reader#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x male reader#autistic reader#neurodivergent reader#twst x autistic reader#x male reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader
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Milex quotes (ranging from unhinged to batshit crazy while taking a detour through wtf land)
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- first impressions: âWhat is this puny spotty kid with his little brown bag ?â (Miles about Alex) âWhoâs that jester who makes me laugh so hard as soon as he opens his mouth ?â (Alex about Miles). Via Les Inrocks arcticle
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- âI tell him I love him all the time,â via NME (Miles)
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- âI love you because youâve got a very strong pain threshold.â Via NME (Miles)
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- since when are you both that close ? âYou want to know if weâre going to get married ? If we have sex like real men, between the buttocks ?â Via Les Inrocks article
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- âFor kids from the North, it's hard to say but we never stop telling each other that we love each other. Alex knows I'll always be there for him. (How do our girlfriends deal with that? Are they jealous? Maybe we should ask them).â (Miles) Via Les Inrocks article
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- âTo me, The Last Shadow Puppets is not even a band. Itâs more like a way-out of the notion itself of âbandâ. Itâs a space of freedom. There is no embarrassment, no taboo, no limits between us. It's a real trade, we reroute each other's ideas. In the end, it's impossible to quantify the contribution of the two of us. Our complementarity sometimes freaks me out.â (Alex) via Les Inrocks article
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- MK: Totally, to me itâs even the best vocal take of his entire career! (He cuddles him.) AT: Thank you, my dear. (Note: here it says âmon lapinâ, which can mean âmy dearâ but literally translates to âmy bunnyâ) via MyRock Magazine
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- AT: Ah yeah, thatâs how it is with my Miles! I start a joke and heâll finish it! (he pounces on Miles and catches him in an armlock on the settee, before giving his crotch a light slap and shouting âHere comes the nuts!â) You wanna see how close we are as friends, Miles and I? Here, look, a spectacle exclusively for you! (At this point, we move up another notch in this madness: Alex swoops for a bowl of cashew nuts and starts to frenetically toss them at Miles, who tries to catch them with his mouth⊠after a fashion. Via MyRock Magazine
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- âAlex is so dedicated to song writing, itâs inspiring to be around. Heâs a beautiful soul and Iâm honoured to witness him and the band grow. His left ears going to be burning when he hears thisâŠâ (Miles) via GQ magazine October 2013
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- âAlex Turner is a genius, isnât he? Heâs a genius fish.â (Miles) via Knack Focus
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Via Kultura Onet
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- âSometimes we have Skype-sex, or we wank off on FaceTime!â (Miles) via Index
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- âWe've been through a lot together. It's like, he's one of those friends, those few best friends you have in life. As you grow older, your circle tends to shrink, but he's remained one of my closest pals. It's almost like a bit of yin and yang between us.â (Miles) via NumĂ©ro
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- Alex turns to Miles and propositions him: âYour place or mine, then?â Thereâs no-one expect us and the road-crew there to see it, but it feels like a special moment nonetheless. Via NME
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- âI think we can bring the best out in each other, you know? He certainly does that with me.â (Miles) Via Eska Rock
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- âWhy, yes, bromances are for sharing your dreams. What a wonderful sentiment.â (Miles) via Interview Magazine
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- AT: Miles is, without a doubt, Wolverine. Wolverine is a style icon to him. I see similarities. Miles always follows his instinct. And heâs capable of fixing things that are broken, whether itâs material or emotional damage, in no time. MK: Alex often reminds me of Gambit. He can change something insignificant into something explosive. Heâs very aware of everything that happens around him, something that balances him out. And he can read my mind. Via OOR Magazine 2016
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- âWe understand each other and keep each other going. We both have strange ideas and we need the presence of the other to make sense of them.â (Miles) Via OOR Magazine 2016
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- âSometimes it can be a pressure being the fella in the band who writes the songs. Getting together with Miles I've got someone to bounce ideas off and that is something new for me. Also, it gives me somewhere to hide because he's up there singing with me. In the Arctic Monkeys, there's nowhere for me to hide.â (Alex) via Culture
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- âMy best mate. I love him, man. I like the way he pushes himself and keeps that thing of, whatever's going on around you, you're just a lad who loves playing music and writing tunes. He's a prime example of someone who's big but doesn't take anything for granted.â (Miles)
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- âI decipher his thoughts and organise them. When Miles bursts, the idea comes flying. Someone who knows him well enough might be able to filter out the good ideas. But usually, he only has good ideas and itâs up to me to catch everything. Thatâs my job within this duo. That process releases all kinds of stuff within me, causing me to go into certain directions I would never take my own.â (Alex)
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- âI thought it were going to be like them finding a tape where youâd had an affair,â he grins. âLike your bird had found an affair tape and was watching you having sex with another bird⊠but it werenât like⊠an affair tape⊠erm, not that Iâve ever made an affair tape.â Alex Turner about the Monkeysâ reaction to The Last Shadow Puppetsâ album via NME
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- âAnd also working with Miles, it comes very much from my heart. You know, with such a close friendship we have. Wanting to work together, it brings something else. I havenât done too much with other people⊠heâs kind of the only one.â (Alex) via Hot Press
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- MK: And he can read my mind. AT: But you can read mine, too. MK: I knew you were gonna say that. AT: And I knew you were gonna say that. via OOR Magazine 2016
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- âEven if we aren't writing half a word is enough. We can finish each other's sentences sometimes and if we focus on it, we can take it to a much deeper level. That's pretty unique. My thinking process is pretty abstract and a lot of people don't know what to do with that. Alex understands me like no other.â (Miles) via OOR Magazine 2016
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- youâre living in Los Angeles too now, miles? ââŠbecause Alex lives thereâŠâ (Miles) via Humo
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- âHe has written a lot of songs â a lyrical wonder, this boy!â (Miles) via Humo
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- The pair live, Turner says, âseven minutes away from each otherâ. Ask them what a typical night out entails, and they look at each other, then proceed to not be very forthcoming, though Turner will eventually concede that âsome of what happens in those situations is disclosed, through the veil of song, on the record. Thereâs references.â Via Shortlist
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- âStarinâ out the balcony at the moon, wonderinâ where is he, what is he doinâ now, whoâs he kissinââ (Alex) via Sidewalk Hustle
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- â⊠but this thing we had together⊠I know that I was the new kid and he was a sort of superstar, but even from day one, it was amazing. To an outsider, it wouldnât look equal, but it was always so equal. He made me feel like that, just because it was.â (Miles)
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- âWe take it in turns playing the straight man.â (Alex) via Shortlist
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- âQuite cute ! Quite and quite camp, you mean ?â (Miles about their relationship) via NME
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- On what itâs like to work with Kane again, Turner said: âItâs like John Lennon meets⊠Paul [McCartney].â Via NME
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- Miles says their relationship was established âon laughter and general stupidnessâ via the Telegraph
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- Interviewer: Alex, what does Miles bring out in you thatâŠ. Alex: A woman canât bring out in me?
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- Miles and Alex and their endearments and nicknames for each other :
âWe always talk about it, me and the boy, y'know?â (one of the cutest things Miles has called Alex is 'the boy' it's so beautiful bc someone asked him on Twitter what he was up to and he just said he was 'going out with the boy'. which boy? it didn't need saying. everyone knows who The Boy in Miles' life is.)
"He's got the face for it...the little diamond."Miles to Alex
"The Little Prince" Miles to Alex x
âShavambacuâ Miles to Alex at 4:01
âYou naughty turtleâ Alex to Miles- Tlsp @ Paradiso, Amsterdam 2016 during the element of surprise
âBabyâ Miles to Alex multiple times
âYou scampi fryâ Miles to Alex via the guardian
âThe Wirral squirrel/wirral riddlerâ Alex to Miles via absolute radio 2011 at around 10:50
âAll aboard the Kane trainâ Alex to Miles at Lowlands 2016 at around 21:56
âMy Milesâ Alex to Miles, MyRock interview
âThe next song is called âMy Fantasyâ⊠Iâd like to dedicate it to my Alex Turner!â Miles to Alex, live performance
âIf I can speak for both Darlingâ Alex to Miles via El PaĂs
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X
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- âHe (Alex) turned up one day in red jeans. That surprised me. I like it when he wears red jeans. When theyâre tight.â
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- âThere's nothing innocent about Miles Kane,âTurner warns, in case anyone was planning to accuse him of luring his fresh-faced co-conspirator into a decadent world of rock star self-indulgence. âHe is the antithesis of innocence.â âOoh,â Kane retorts, archly, âyou scampi fry.â Via the Guardian
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- âWe went for a bike ride. Tops off. Fred Perry shorts on.â (Alex about their time recording the age of the understatement in rural France Blackbox studio) via Q Magazine 2008
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- You look like you're about to snog each other. AT: âItâs rare that we donât look like that.â Tlsp at the Mercury music Prize 2008
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- âAs far as Iâm concerned there are only two superstars: BeyoncĂ© and Miles Kane. You can quote me on that.â (Alex)
#Milex quotes#if anybody has some missing sources or more quotes please do add#the length of this post is uhm a bit concerning#pet names#nicknames#yeah totally normal best friend behaviour nothing more#and not only are the sons getting on like a house on fire but their mums as well even having the same biscuits#this is gonna have several parts but Iâm way too tired to go down this spiral even furth
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platonic!yandere!alastor & 1950s!teen!gn!reader ! ! [prologue]
series masterlist ! !
description; You and your pals were taking a ride in your friend, Matty's, nice convertible, enjoying the last moments of summer break before school started up again for your senior year. A rich kid without a driver's license and his daddy's BMW changed that all.
additional notes; the start of a series! this doesn't feature Alastor, considering this is just how Reader died/got to hell in the first place, and a little bit of backstory involving them. I tried to make reader as non-descript as possible so you could insert yourself in their shoes! enjoy :] this chapter is pretty heavy though, so be careful!
also, i thought i should mentioned that reader in here is a wolverine! i've always associated them with anger. be ready for a lot of symbolism in this series, that's my jam.
warnings; graphic violence, graphic description of corpses, car crashes, murder (for the sake of revenge), death of close friends, stabbing, head trauma, lots of mentions of blood, brief mention of vomit/vomiting, + let me know if i missed any !
w/c; 2.1k
While alive, you hadn't put much thought in where you'd go afterwards. After all, you were in the prime of your life! Your senior year was about to begin, and you and your friends were squeezing the last bits of joy from your summer break before it ended.
You were sure you still had at least 50 years in you, and you were carefree. Sitting in the passenger seat of one of your closest friend's car, three of your others pals right behind you-- chatting, enjoying the warm summer rays and fresh air blowing past you as your friends rode around town in Matty's bright red Chevy convertable.
Nothing could go wrong, you thought-- you hadn't even considered the notion, not even as you heard tires screeching down the street Matty was just driving by-- not even as you heard the police sirens blaring,
"It's probably a speeder," You heard Lorraine say behind you, and you turned to respond, assuming she was talking to you. She was, in fact, addressing Marnie and not you-- but ever the nosy nancy, you asked "What're you talking about?"
Lorraine looked at you, and shrugged. She gestured to Marnie, who'd taken off her cateye-framed glasses and cleaned them on her nice silk blouse. It'd been a nervous habit of hers ever since you met her, way back in the 5th grade on the first day of school.
"Marnie here's being a worry wart 'bout that screeching." You looked at Lorraine again, then to Marnie, who eyed the side streets wearily. "I'm just saying, it sounds awfully close and awfully unpredictable-- it sounds like they're looping through all the streets. Who knows when they'll merge onto main--"
Rudy playfully shoved Marnie, pushing her into Lorraine on accident. He gave an apologetic smile before saying in a softer tone, one you didn't hear very often from the class clown-- "Oh c'mon Marns! Don't be such a party pooper! it's probably Dick takin' a joyride in his dads new BMW. He said he was gonna take it for a spin soon."
This time, worry began to settle in your chest. "I thought Dick didn't have a drivers license?" and Lorraine's brows furrowed and she replied "He doesn't."
Rudy tugged at the color of his polo shirt, looking to the side nervously as he leaned back "Hey! It might not be him, who knows! Just a guess, no need to take it as gospel."
For a few seconds, the conversation dropped. The only thing you bunch could hear was the wind whistling by, Matty's radio playing Everyday by Buddy Holly, birds chirping, the police sirens wailing and the shrieking of someones tired.
"What's everyone talking about?" Matty asked, and Lorraine said "Just talking about all that noise." And Matty gave his signature smile, his bright laugh following shortly behind. You could see why girls threw themselves at him like nobody's business-- he does have a certain charm, you found yourself thinking.
The perfect golden boy-- your group often called him "boy scout supreme" on account of how painfully good natured he was. "clark kent" was a close second for the most used nickname regarding his behavior.
He was not superman, though, as you'd come to learn. He wasn't invincible, because as he opened his mouth to reply-- try to soothe everyone's gringles, especially Marnie...
"It sounds really close," You said, pushing yourself up using the armrests and leaning forward to peek past Matty and--
Sure enough, it was a fancy blue and white BMW that you saw. Dick at the drivers wheel, seeming to have shaken the cop that was trailing after him. He was heading right for you bunch, and just as you opened your mouth to scream-- to tell at Matty to swerve, about ready to reach forward yourself and grab the steering wheel--
The two vehicles collided, sending the both of them through the safety railings and tumbling down. The five of you had nothing to protect you from the brunt of it all-- you were lucky enough to be in the passanger seat, and quick thinking led you to hiding under the footwell. You were lucky enough to cram yourself in before the car really started rolling.
You aren't sure how long it took the car to stop rolling. The forest off the side of main's hill were pretty damn steep, the steepest point of them was where you'd been passing by before Dick came speeding your guys' way.
When it stopped, you stayed inside the footwell for a while longer. Your head was pounding like hell, and you grimaced as the sticky blood gushed from a wound somewhere on her forehead-- you're pretty sure there was another gash on the back of your head, contributing to the awful headache.
When you heard a door open, you felt hope. Hope that your friends had survived, despite having no real protection.
You lot were lucky enough to land the right-side up, not trapped underneath like those Soap Opera's your gran liked to watch all the time. You were careful to be slow, to be methodical with your movements as you set to wrangling yourself from your hidey-hole in the footwell.
Footsteps, footsteps on the underbrush-- they sounded pretty steady for someone who's been in a crash like you'd been in, so that lending you the idea that it was Matty. Always calm and collected-- Rudy would probably be screaming his head off by now, Marnie crying as Lorraine comforted the girl.
You hope to whatever God is willing to listen that they're just unconscious.
The footsteps were walking away-- you wanted to cry out, stop! stop, i'm still here! but you knew Matty couldn't of been leaving you. His first instinct, for better or for worse, to go seek help no matter what. You were only halfway-through pushing yourself from the footwell, it was bent in and damaged from the rolling. It was harder to get out of than it was to get in, for more then one reason.
When you'd finally managed to pull yourself free, and stand, you stumbled, woozy. Vision blurred, and mouth desert-dry.
"Matty?" You called out, voice barely above a hoarse whisper. You turned to your side-- you'd slammed against a big oak tree. That's fine. You'd get out from behind,
You would've screamed if you could've. As you took in Lorraine-- god, was that even Lorraine? Her face was so mangled, blood coating the slashes where her eyes, nose, and mouth would've been-- clinging to it, making it impossible to tell anything.
You reached forward. She gave no reaction. You looked to her side-- Marnie... that had to have been Marnie, was no better off. Her glasses gone, her head twisted to an unnatural angle-- a broken neck.
Rudy wasn't even there, and that gave you hope. Hope that was quickly dashed as you saw his body lying lifeless about 20 feet up the hill. He never was good on wearing his seatbelt, not like the rest of you were.
Okay. That's- you... you can just get out Matty's side! That'd be easy, since he was the one who got up--
This time, this time you were able to scream. It wasn't very loud, more of a yelp with how much your throat hurt. Matty's... Matty's head wasn't there. It was gone. It was jus--
Oh... oh no, you'd leaned over to try and look for his head, where it could've gone in the underbrush. Only to have it brush against your leg, still attached to his neck by way of a thin strand of sinew.
You fought to keep down whatever was still in your stomach. You failed miserably.
Once you were finished upchucking, you came to a realization.
You looked to the fancy BMW, it'd landed upright too. It's got a roof, no matter how damaged the thing was. The door was open, and there was no trace of Dick.
The bastard's just gonna walk away you realized, rage fueling you as you hauled yourself over the body of your friend-- you said a quick apology to Matty, though he couldn't very well hear it. You wobbled out the car, and then looked to Rudy's body.
Dick was going to get away with it, you knew he was. His dad was a wealthy oil tycoon and his mother was an heiress to a popular beauty brand her ma ran. You and your friends were nobodies compared to them, simple, regular people. Not rich, not like Dick was.
You stumbled to Rudy's body, swallowing your next bout of upchuck as you kneeled by his body. You said a quick apology, before rummaging in his pockets.
Soon enough, you found what you were looking for. A switchblade, one Rudy liked to use for tricks to impress gals and spook Marnie, who insisted he was gonna cut himself on it one of these days.
When you stood, your vision blacked out and you had to lean against a tree before regaining it. Judging by the state of you, you weren't going to last very long either. You could either try and scale the hill to go get help,
Or trail after Dick, make sure he didn't get away with this like he surely would without your say. You'd already had your mind made when you'd fished Rudy's switchblade from the pocket of his torn, bloody chinos.
You had a good idea where Dick had gone off to, low-hanging branches broken, a path through the fallen leaves and underbrush caused by dragging feet.
Despite your injuries-- the adrenaline surely running through your system definitely helping you in your mission-- you managed to catch up with the boy. He was a lot better off than any of your friends, obviously-- and yourself. All things considered, he looked like he'd gotten into a parking lot fight more than a car crash that killed all four of your friends right away (god, you hope it was right away. you hope they didn't suffer),
But you want Dick to suffer. You want his suffering to amount to what he may have caused your friends in their end.
His back was still turned as you approached him. You know you weren't being quiet, no matter how hard you try; either his hearing was damaged or he didn't deem the noise important enough to turn around.
When you grabbed his shoulder, he become very aware of you. He became even more aware of you when you jabbed the switchblade in his shoulder. There was a tussle-- he was in much better condition than you, but in the end you won out. Your rage refusing to let you stay down, to let him get away with this.
You don't remember what you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth as you climbed on top of him. You stabbed him, all non-fatal unless you left him to bleed out.
You felt yourself begin to slip, as if your life was falling through the cracks in your fingers as if it was a tangible thing. Growing lethargic, numb to the pain and tired. You couldn't go on. You wanted to draw it out more, but...
If you left him, there was still a chance someone could find him before he succumbed to blood loss or whatever brain trauma he may have endured (like you had).
You remember what you said last, even if your consciousness was slipping. You'd never forget what you said at you drove Rudy's beloved switchblade into the scums forehead, you said it as loud as you could, but it wasn't much. Hoarsely, you call out,
"I'll see you in hell."
You don't remember how long you lasted after Dick stopped moving. You pulled the switch blade from his head, and with what energy you left you headed back to the crash. You wanted to give Rudy his knife back. It was the least you could do for your friend,
But you didn't make it. At least, you don't think you made it to him. It's uncertain-- everything got so blurry at the end. You don't remember collapsing, one moment youâre shambling towards the hill; Rudy's corpse in sight, quickly cooling and sure to become a snack for some wildlife (just as you all were, probably),
and the next, you were in a field on stinging nettle, luckily having fallen in one of the various patches devoid of the plant. Your mouth felt crowded like never before, yours hands were clawed, and you took that time to just sit. To look around, and realize where exactly you were.
In hell. You were... definitely in hell, like you'd expected. You glanced around, expecting Dick to fall down-- but he died before you. probably walked away by now, if hell-time was like earth-time, you were unsure; you just knew that Dick wasn't here right now-- or maybe he'd dropped somewhere else. You aren't sure how this works.
After all, you just got here. Just an hour or so ago, you'd been thinking about what you'd wear to the first day of school. Now that was the last thing on your mind.
#yandere hazbin hotel#gn reader#yandere alastor x reader#platonic yandere#yandere x reader#hazbin hotel#platonic yandere x reader#tw violence#tw death#tw murder#tw car accident#platonic alastor x reader#requests open#i love an unhinged reader#love them because i am rather vengeful myself#maybe not to this point#but who knows#my writing#tw emeto
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