#i feel like i could easily write a lengthy fic for these two but i dont have the time at all and im gonna scream

[myebix]

I need everyone to see my gingersnap edits.

think about it, this ship makes perfect sense. please, hear me out.

Also, someone on twitter quickly made fanart for them and I think I might kiss them /p. THEYRE SO CUTE????? PLS GO GIVE THIS ARTIST SOME LOVE FOR CARRYING ON MY VISION

[freakingholland]

Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

_

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

*

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

*

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

*

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

-

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Pretty Little Letter’s

Dbf Negan Smith x Fem Reader

Synopsis - After finishing college you decide to on a gap year to take a breather after many years of hard work. Setting out to travel the country, you promise to write to your dad every week, what happens when his best friend Negan makes you promise to write to him too.

Warnings- No apocalypse AU, dads best friend, large age gap, feelings, love confessions, adventures, reader travelling, reader described as female, mentions of cheating, Negan is the one cheated on in this fic by ex wife, struggles with feelings, I took the John Winchester idea and made Negan a mechanic, obviously not canon at all, vague mentions of sex, but no actual smut in this chapter. There will be in later chapters though so 18+ only please.

Let me know if I’ve left anything out

Word count - 6.6K (sorry it’s a long one)

This is part one of two chapters in this mini series.

_______________________________________

Tomorrow was the day, the day you’ve been waiting for, the day you were leaving for an adventure. After 4 years of hard work and dedication, you had graduated Yale University with honours. You’d surpassed anything you felt you could accomplish, with the amazing support of your dad, who had raised you single-handedly. He has supported you throughout your life from scrapped knees and boo boos as a child, to finishing school with the grades you needed to get into Yale.

It was a dream you’d always had, even as a child. You’d pinned up pictures of the college on your wall, telling your dad ‘one day I’ll be here!’ When you received the letter you’d ripped it open with such ferocity, your dad was sure you’d shred your hands. Only to crumple to the floor in floods of tears, walking towards you he settles next to you pulling you in for a big hug, “Hey don’t worry baby girl, it’s not the end of the world we still have other letters coming, other options. No matter what I’m soo proud of you my darling girl” he cooed. You shook your head no, trying to steady your breath “No d…..ad” you stuttered “We did it, I got in, I did it dad! I got in” you continued through staggered breaths, he reached over and pulled it from your grasp reading the words carefully, his hand clamped over his mouth in shock. He started crying too, pulling you in tighter, letting his tears fall freely.

Being the amazing father he was, hours later he was on the phone with his oldest and closest friend Negan, explaining you’d got in, you’d done it, and if Negan could look for a house up there for you both, Negan lived in a small town in Connecticut not too far from Yale. He’d instantly agreed, finding you a lovely 3 bedroom home only a street away from himself. Your dad had been there behind you every step of your life, and he wasn’t about to let this one be any different.

So you packed up your life, making the lengthy trip from Virgina to Connecticut.

The experience has been amazing, you’ve loved every second of college. You came home every night excitedly animating your days to your dad, and many days to Negan too. He would be over often for dinners, you guys also going over his frequently too, the three of you spent many evenings together BBQs, football games, board game nights, you name it. You’d spent a lot of the last 4 years with Negan, he was a great friend to your dad. They’d kept in contact when he had moved from Virgina with his wife, because she wanted to be able to commute to New York easily. She took to the big corporate job like a fish to water, but she began coming home to Negan less and less, giving excuses about early starts and having to stay in some fancy hotel. Unfortunately one day when he made a trip to the city to surprise her, he’d found her rolling around the bed with her boss.

He called later that day to tell your dad what happened, your dad being the great person he is dropped everything and came up here to be with him, leaving you with your grandma for a few weeks.

After a lengthy divorce he’d stuck it out in the sleepy town, deciding he didn’t want to upheave his life once again. You hadn’t known Negan too well then, your dad called him often and you knew his voice, that deep rumbling voice, from their calls. You’d even answered the phone to him a few times, making polite small talk until your dad could take over. But he’d moved to Connecticut when you were only 2 years old, so you’d never really gotten to know him.

That all changed when you moved to start Yale, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t developed an enormous crush on the older man. Gods was he beautiful, he was funny sometimes making you actually cry from laughter. He was kind, loyal, owned his own mechanics garage, he was an all round great guy, and you had no idea why no one had snapped him up yet. Though secretly you were thankful no one had, because the mere thought stirred an ugly pit of jealousy in your stomach.

But tonight things were perfect, you were having a farewell dinner with the two men in your life, sat around the coffee table on your living room floor, eating pizza, heads thrown back in laughter as you whoop your dads ass at monopoly.

“Oh come on y/n not another hotel” your dad pleads playfully.

“I’m afraid so dad, told you the light blue were worth buying, the houses are cheap to buy, I can get as many as I want” you goad in giggles.

“She has you there man! I’d add another to Euston Road if I were you sweetheart! Finish him off” Negan jests.

“Don’t encourage her!” Your dad grumbles, causing you and Negan to roll in laughter even more.

“You know what I think I will” you reply adding another hotel.

Your dad takes his next roll landing on one of your hotel properties,

“Oh shit man! That’s you done isn’t it” Negan teases. Your dad stands then playfully tips the board over, making you gasp in mock shock before falling into giggles once again, in the moment you end up leaning your head against Negan’s shoulder.

“Right that’s it I’m done with this silly game, who wants another beer” your dad laughs.

“Me” you say, Negan nodding in unison his breath slightly shaken from your head still leaning against his shoulder, like it belongs there which in his mind it does. Man he’s dreading you leaving for a year, every time he thinks about it, there’s a constricting feeling in his heart. He brings his arm around you pulling you closer for a second, taking a moment to bask in your warmth. He gives you a quick squeeze, before moving to start packing away the game.

You watch him with a warm smile on your face, my goodness were you going to miss him. But you needed this, you needed to stand on your own two feet and experience some living. You also needed to get over this silly crush, he was 20 years older than you for Christ sake, he probably looked at you like a niece. He definitely wouldn’t return your affections, so you should go and clear your head. See some of the world, meet people and have experiences.

They always say you discover yourself while travelling alone.

You wanted to see if that was true.

But leaving these two behind would be hard, even if it wasn’t forever a year was still a long time. “So sweetheart your really leaving us tomorrow?” Negan asks, “Yup! Just like Bilbo Baggins I’m off on an adventure” you giggle, trying to make light it it, when in fact your heart is sinking at the thought. “Not gonna be the same without you here darlin’” he affirms, there’s a smile on his face but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and those beautiful dimples aren’t showing. For a second you wonder if he returns your feelings, but that wouldn’t make any sense so you push the idea out of your mind.

Your dad arrives back 3 beers in his hands, “I can’t believe my baby girl is going out into the world tomorrow, you promise to write to me every week yeah??” Your dad asks. “You know I can just text you? And call you right?” You answer, “Yeah you can call too, but I want hand written letters to have a part of you still coming home every week” he replies voice sounding emotional, this was a big step for him you had never been away from your dad before. Getting up you give him a big hug, “Ok dad I’ll write to you every week and I’ll send you postcards, so you can see where I’ve been!” You promise. “Yeah that sounds great baby girl” he affirms.

After your dad passes out snoring on the couch, you clean up the pizza boxes with Negan. While you’ve moved on to clearing up the kitchen he stands in the doorway watching you, “You know sweet cheeks, I’d love for some of those hand written letters too” he expresses. Looking up at him in shock, you ask “Really?”, “Yeah I want to hear everything your doing, plus it would be nice to have a part of you here with me too, like I said sweetheart it won’t be the same here without ya” he replies stepping closer, gently brushing a hair out of your face, hazel eyes bearing into you. “Ok Negan I’ll write to you too”, “Good” he sighs, leaning in he kisses your head wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Gonna miss ya kid”, “Yeah I’ll miss you too” you reply.

Letting him out the door you say your goodbyes, before tucking a blanket over your dad.

This was going to be hard……

_______________________________________

You’ve been travelling a week now, slowly making your way down south to Florida. You made sure to stop for a few nights at your grandmas, you loved spending time with her, just like your dad she was a sweet soul, and you’d really enjoyed some long chats and a homemade meal.

The last morning of your stay you popped by taking a look at the house you grew up in, you always wondered if your mother had ever stopped by to see you. Missing you because you’d moved away, would she be proud that you’d made it to Yale, probably not. She’s never cared enough to call, she upped and left the day after you were born. Just left you in the hospital, for your dad to find when he came back in after some rest at home. Leaving your dad to step into both parents roles, which he took on without complaint bringing you up in a home full of love and laughter, you were beyond blessed to have been given him as your dad.

With that you tucked those thoughts away, your dad and grandma love you, are proud of you and support you. You didn’t need anyone else, well except maybe Negan.

By the end of your first week you’d made it to the Croatan National Forest, in North Carolina. You decided to stop here and see the sights, maybe do some hiking, some swimming on the coast. You found a cute little beach rental you booked for a few nights, it looked out to the river which joined the ocean. It was peaceful here, kids had all gone back to school and the soft autumn breeze was setting a chill in the air. So the beach was practically empty, with the exception of a few dog walkers.

Dark skies started settling in, greys and blacks filling the vast space, the clouds looked as if they were rolling towards you. A storm was coming which emitted some excitement in you, to sit there and watch them was one of your most favourite things to do, especially if the lightning was close and you could see it crack across the sky.

Settling in the bay of the bedroom window, you looked out at the water, pulling out your notebook you got to writing your dad his first letter. Folding it up you sealed in in an envelope, adding your home address and a stamp. Then you began to write Negan’s,

Dear Negan,

I’ve made it to North Carolina, to the Croatan National Forest. I’m staying in a really cute little beach house, which was cheap due to the holidays being over. I’m currently sat watching a storm roll in, windows open enjoying the breeze.

I stopped to see Grandma on the way down, she sends her love to Dad and you. She still hasn’t changed bless her, I also stopped by my old neighbourhood to see the house. I didn't feel as sad seeing it as I thought I would. I think that’s because you’ve made our lives so much more incredible. I miss you both it’s odd being without Dad for the first time, but it’s also strange being without you too now. You’ve ingrained yourself into my life now and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I think I’ll take a swim tomorrow if the weather allows it, I may even swim in the rain if I can. So there you go, you can picture me dancing under the storm.

Yours truly

Y/N

Xx

You sealed the letter, writing his address and placing another stamp. Maybe you poured a bit of how you feel about him in there but it felt good to let some of it out, like it was healing a small part of you.

You ran down to the post box before the rain hit, dropping the letters in and running back to your temporary home. Closing the door just as the torrential downpour started. “Phew that was close” you giggle. That evening you sat in your window watching the storm, the bright lightning cracked above illuminating the beach. Rain pouring and winds blowing, while you stayed cozy eating your soup admiring natures fierce show.

When morning came around it was still raining, though the storm had passed. You threw on your bathing suit and braved the weather, running into the water with a loud gasp as the cool liquid surrounded you. You laid back watching the rain fall from the sky, in that moment you’d never felt so free.

_______________________________________

Back home Negan received his letter a few days later, he’d been checking his post box every single day, like a man deranged. ‘Finally’ he thought tearing open the envelope before he even made in back inside. Sitting down at his dining room table he read your words, smile adorning his features, dimples pulling deep. ‘Ingrained himself into your life, and you wouldn’t change it for the world’ for the first time he allowed himself to hope, that just maybe you returned his feelings.

Was this your way of telling him so? He didn’t know but he needed to find out, he’d have to play this safe though, edge it out of you slowly, god only knows what would happen if he assumed wrong, you’d tell your Dad no doubt, he’d loose you and his best friend in one go, he couldn’t risk that.

Pulling out his phone he sent you a message,

‘Hey sweetheart,

Thank you for my little letter, I hope you had fun swimming and dancing in the storm, though I also hope you stayed safe.

You’ve also ingrained yourself into my life angel face, came into it like a spitfire but I wouldn’t have it any other way either. Enjoy your next week, just make sure you stay safe.

Negan

Xxx

He sent the text, and waited under baited breath for a response. He almost jumped out of his chair when his phone pinged.

Hi Negan

Your welcome, I can assure you I am staying safe, I’m checking my oil and water levels too, as promised. Car is running smooth still :)

‘Spitfire’? I wouldn’t say that! But I’m glad you wouldn’t have it any other way because your stuck with me now.

I’ll send you your next letter same time this week, till then ……

Y/N

Xxx

He smiles to himself once more, you most certainly are a spitfire. But you’re also the best thing to ever come into his life, he hopes one day he’ll be able to tell you so.

_______________________________________

End of your second week, it’s rushed by so fast and you can’t believe your already in Jacksonville Florida. Today your sat on the beach it’s much warmer here, no sign of any autumn breeze and the sunny weather bringing many people to the beach. Your currently writing to your dad again while listening to the soft waves crashing onto the shore. Finishing his letter you once again start writing one to Negan,

Dear Negan,

What a week I’ve had! Can you believe I’m already in Florida? Today I’m sat on Jacksonville beach watching the waves crashing. It’s much busier here and much warmer, apparently there’s a swell coming in tomorrow so I may try surfing. I’ll be sure to send you both some hilarious pictures, of me falling on my face.

I’m staying two nights here in a hotel overlooking the beach, the buildings here on the coast are like mini skyscrapers. I think they may be too tall, it ruins the feel of the place. My next move may be Orlando Disney, I’ve always wanted to go! May even get made into a Disney princess! Because hey you only live once, which one should I go for?

I’m starting to really miss you both, how’s my dad coping? I hope my boys are looking after each other,

Well I’m going to go find somewhere for dinner, speak soon.

Y/N

Xxx

Getting up you brush the gritty sand off your legs, setting out on a mission to find somewhere to post these letters. After exploring a few busy streets, you see it, Bingo! You spot the blue metal of the US postal boxes, slotting in your letters before finding a diner to eat dinner in.

Back home 48 hours later Negan received your second letter, “my boys” he reads, the thought of being yours makes his cheeks flush, and his heart quicken. He feels like a teenage boy again at 52 years old, he’d be yours in a heartbeat if you’d ask him. But he knows it’s out of the question, your his best friends kid, and what would you want with an old man? Your so beautiful and he doesn’t feel he’s got much to offer you at this point of his life. Even so he will allow himself to enjoy these letters, living in a little daydream for a while.

After pacing his kitchen for a good ten minutes he decides he has to talk to you, the words “my boys” still swirling around his head. Giving in and pulling out his phone he sends you a text,

Hey sweetheart

I remember Jacksonville well, I visited about 15 years ago now. I went to a work conference there. Your right the buildings are too tall beside the ocean, definitely not one of my favourite beaches.

Surfing? How did that turn out I’m still waiting on this photo.

“Your boys hey” I like the sound of that darlin. But yeah I’m making sure your dad cooks for himself, and I fixed his lawn mower for him, so your gardens looking a lot better now!

Make sure you continue to stay safe sweetheart, I hope you enjoy Disney, but you don’t need to dress up to be a princess you’ve always been one.

Negan

Xx

Ping

His heart is beating rapidly in his chest as he opens your reply,

Hey Negan

Actually I did ok surfing, I managed to stand up and everything lol

Xx

Ping

He opens the slightly blurry image of you standing up on a large longboard, big smile on your face. You look so beautiful and so happy.

Ping

So as you can see, not a complete disaster! I went to Disney world yesterday, it was great fun but all in all too many people about. I’ve set off west now aiming in a general direction of New Orleans, as I’ve always wanted to go. I think it may take a week or two to get there though!

And don’t worry I will be careful I promise. You’ll always be my boys

Y/n

Xxx

He smiles to himself you were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Ok sweetheart

Look at you! You’re a natural! Well I’ll wait with bated breath until your next letter, I think you should send two a week I Think one a week is just too long to wait for sweet cheeks.

Negan

Xx

Ping

Ok Negan

Two it is, I’m off to bed now

Night

Y/N

Xx

He grins, two letters a week, he feels all important now. He wonders if your dad will also get two letters a week? Or if he really is special enough to be the only one.

_______________________________________

A few weeks pass in a blur, you keep your promise to Negan and write to him twice a week. Not only that you both text constantly and have started video calling frequently too. Your currently walking through the vibrant streets of New Orleans with your phone in hand, on video call to Negan as you show him the current festivities happening. “Look at the colours Negan! I’ve never seen anywhere so bright and colourful, and the musics been incredible.” You ramble off excitedly, “Yeah I can see that sweetheart, I wish I was with you right now it looks incredible” he replies.

“I wish you were with me too, it’s amazing! I’ll have to bring dad here at some point.” You gush,

“Yeah maybe we should all plan a trip” he replies and you nod along, “Yeah that sounds good!”

“So where are you off too next?” Negan asks, “Well I’ve booked to stay two weeks on this women only ranch just outside Austen Texas, so I’m going to enjoy a slower pace for a couple of weeks, I’ll get to go riding everyday and read books in the sun” you answered, “That sounds like a good plan sweetheart, you haven’t slowed down in weeks.” Negan hums, truth be told you were looking forward to slowing down for a bit, it’s been a full on couple of months, and as much as you’ve enjoyed it you’ve burnt yourself out a little.

Back at your hotel room you and Negan chat over video call for hours, you admire him as he throws his head back in laughter, while laying back on his couch. You're sat cross legged on your bed, window open so you can see and hear the ongoing festivities outside, the cheerful jazz music floating around your room.

“I can’t believe I’ve been away two months now, it’s gone so fast”, it hasn’t felt fast to Negan, it’s felt like every hour has dragged on without you home. Nights with your dad are much quieter, and your presence is constantly missed. “Yeah sweetheart” he agrees half heartedly, and you sense the change in his tone. “Everything ok?” You ask, voice laced with concern. “Of course darlin we just miss you is all” Negan admits.

“I miss you too you know, life on my own has definitely been quiet. It’s why I enjoy these video calls so much, it almost feels like your here, like it’s a normal Friday night Just without the beers and pizza” you laugh.

His heart warms at your confession, slowly over these weeks he’s noticed little things. The way you look at him, or the way your face lights up when you answer his calls, your letters have become sweeter too. He allows himself to truly hope, that maybe you return his feelings. He’s in half a mind to jump in the car and meet you on your travels, take you into his arms and lay it all out, tell you how he feels and hope you say you feel them too. But his mind always falls back to your Dad, his best friend of nearly 30 years. How would he take it, would he ever talk to him again? Would he forbid him ever seeing you again? It’s these thoughts that stop him ever taking anything further than flirty remarks, and terms of endearment, but god does he wish he could just take you in his arms, feel your skin against his own as he spends all night worshiping your body like the goddess you are.

“Negan…..Negan are you with me” your voice cuts through his daydreaming, “Yeah sorry sweetheart, must be getting tired it’s past this old man’s bedtime” he teases. You huff out a small giggle “You’re not old Negan” you reply. “I’m 52 darlin, I’m nearly at the end of middle aged” Negan groans, you shake your head in disagree “Nope I don’t agree”, “Well I’ll take that” Negan laughs, “We should get some sleep though, it’s like 1am! Night Negan”

“Night Beautiful”

As the call ends you sit there shocked, that’s new, he just called you beautiful! He’s never used that pet name before, usually it’s darlin or sweetheart. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. You fall asleep that night with the smile never leaving, listening to the distant hum of jazz.

_______________________________________

The ranch is beautiful, picturesque like a postcard. You feel like you’ve stepped into some country and western film, you’re currently sat under a large tree watching the horses gallop about the pens. There’s a few other women staying at the ranch with you, and you’ve enjoyed getting to know them. One is a lot older than the rest of you, her name’s Frances, she’s been cooking for you all and mothering everyone.

It’s been nice, you weren’t used to a motherly woman being in your life. You’ve told her so too, told her about your life and that your dad raised you alone. She’s been a great listener, she brought up her two sons and how she couldn’t understand a mother ever leaving her children, she could never. When she asked if there was anyone special in your life, you’d bitten your lip and done your best to redirect the conversation. After much convincing you’d told her there was a man who held your affections, but he was much older than you. So it wasn’t an easy situation, but she’d told you there’s no age restrictions on love, so long as both parties involved were adults and felt the same.

It lead you to hope, that maybe you and Negan could maybe one day be something. You were starting to also hope that maybe he felt the same way you did, he had called you beautiful after all.

Taking out a pen and paper you began writing your letter’s.

Dear Negan

This ranch is beautiful, even in the sweltering heat it’s like something out of an old movie, there’s other women here too so it’s been nice to get to know them and make some friends.

I’m currently watching this black horse run through the field, he’s almost ethereal the way he moves. He looks so free, no worries in the world, and I fell like I’m witnessing his wildest joys and deepest secrets.

There’s a lovely lady here called Frances, she’s been like the mother hen to everyone. I’ve had many chats with her, especially about mum. She couldn’t understand how she just left me, said she never could leave her children. I do wonder if she ever thinks about me at all? Maybe she does, or maybe she just moved on with her life and never looked back.

I talked about you too, how important you are in my life too. I’ve been thinking a lot recently. Anyways I’ll send another letter soon.

With Love

Y/N

Xxx

After sealing the letter you wondered if you should send it, had you made things too obvious? Maybe you needed too to see if there was something there? With a deep breath you dropped it in the postal box, placing it to the back of your mind for now, before joining the rest of the girls for the activities for the day.

_______________________________________

Just two days later Negan received your letter, reading the words he felt incredibly sad. You were hurting he could tell, he doesn’t understand how your mother left you either, she’d never know how incredible the girl she brought into the world turned out to be.

Because you were, you’re incredible. So kind, loyal, brave with a determination he’s never witnessed before, and you were so beautiful beyond compare. So yeah she was the one who had missed out, missed watching that baby girl become the most amazing woman. Something himself and your Dad had never taken for granted, even only really getting to know you these last four years, he’s seen you change and thrive becoming the amazing person you are today.

He’s glad you’re making friends along the way though, he was worried you were starting to get a bit lonely being alone for so long. Still the thought of coming to the ranch himself and holding you in his arms was so compelling right now, you were sad and he felt such a great need to make you smile, or hold you as you cried. You deserve the world, he hopes he can show you that someday.

His heart lurches at the thought of you talking about him, and thinking about him? Thinking how? Is that a confession? Or just you missing home? He would call you later, see what he can coax out of you.

You were sat on the porch watching the sunset, the sunsets down south were the most beautiful you’d ever seen, the oranges and yellows shine over the whole landscape, painting the buildings and your skin in a warm orange glow. As you were admiring the skies your phone started buzzing, removing it from your jeans pocket you smile seeing Negan's name flash up.

“Hey Negan, how are you? Sorry it’s been a little while since we’ve called, I’ve noticed only certain areas get signal” you explain as you answer the video call.

Smiling at you “That’s ok sweetheart, I understand, you’re out in the sticks no one gets phone signal there. How are you doing darlin? I got your letter today and I thought I’d call you”

“Yeah I’m ok, I felt sad for a little while thinking about mum, but I’ve realised how lucky I am to have the people I do in my life. I have people who love me and some people don’t have that.” You admit.

“It’s ok to feel sad though sweetheart, what she did to you wasn’t right and it’s ok to be hurt by that, but yeah you are loved, sometimes I don’t think you know how much your loved sweet girl, your dad, your grandma, myself, we adore you, you’re not alone not ever and I hope you know that.” Negan assures.

Tears well up in your eyes, you swallow a large gulp before answering him “Thanks Negan I needed to hear that” you admit.

“Anytime baby girl”

A small creak behind alerts you of someone’s presence, “Sorry love I just came to tell you dinners ready, if you’d like to join us” Frances explains.

“Oh yeah please, I’ll just be a moment” you answer, she nods walking back into the barn.

“Well it looks like I have dinner to attend” you laugh, “Ok beautiful, enjoy your dinner I’ll speak to you soon” “Yeah speak soon” you smile, hanging up the phone you stand up and dust yourself off before heading inside.

Frances meets you at the doors with a knowing smile, “Was that him?” She asks, blushing you look downwards, “Yeah that’s him” you admit. She nods before saying “Marry that man girl, if he looks at you like that, and speaks to you like that, you’d be a fool not too”. You gasp “How much did you hear?” She gives a gentle laugh, “Enough. Now come on in and eat” she guides you inside, but your whole stomachs fluttering now, and you don’t know how much you will actually be able to eat.

_______________________________________

It was the morning you were leaving the ranch, you felt sad to be going. It had been such a positive experience being here with these women, you’d made some friends and you have exchanged numbers with Frances, who would love to stay in contact. Hugging everyone goodbye you waved your last farewell as you entered your car, today you’d be starting your trip to Los Angeles. Although you didn’t think you’d want to visit Hollywood, you had mapped out some lovely vineyards and beaches.

Starting the engine you made your way off the ranch and onto your next adventure. Driving down the highway you turned you music up, opening the windows letting the wind whip at your hair, singing along to your favourite song. Determined to enjoy every aspect of your road-trip, including the tedious highways.

You made it as far as the Texas/ New Mexico boarder before pulling into a motel for the night. Once you were settled in your room you pulled your phone out and called your dad, “Hey baby girl! Long time no speak, where have you been! Only one letter in two weeks and no phone calls! I’ve been worried!” Your dad stresses.

“I’m so sorry Dad the ranch had nearly no signal, Negan managed to call once while I was there, I think I found a fluke spot that evening, because I couldn’t get through to either of you again” you explain.

“That’s alright honey, I just worry, you know I do! How have you been? I didn’t know you spoke to Negan, do you call each other often?” He asks, and you can tell the confusion in his tone.

“Umm yeah we talk a couple of times a week I guess, same as you and I talk. I think he likes to know what I’m up too. I’m good yeah thanks dad been super busy though, but yeah I’m having a great time, how have you been doing?” You answer.

“Yeah no complaints here, I miss you though. House is too quiet without you kiddo, and it’s ok I just didn’t know the two of you were talking, he’s never said anything to me. Other then the fact you send him the occasional letter too” your dad explains.

“Yeah I write to you both, as per requested” you laugh before adding “I hope your looking after yourself though dad, and actually cooking? Not ordering take out every night. I do worry about you both when I’m not there, you don’t have the best eating habits” you giggle.

“Hey we are doing just fine! I did a BBQ the other day we even had salad!” You dad defends.

Laughing out loud now you reply “Oh some salad too! Well I don’t know why I was worrying then”

“Oi little miss, I do just fine! I managed to cook for you ok growing up!” He argues playfully.

“Yeah I know dad I know, I’m just teasing, well I’m glad you doing good, I’m going to head to bed it’s been a long day, lots of driving” you admit.

“Ok kiddo sleep tight”

“Will do night dad”

Ending the call you lay back on the bed and sigh, your dad seemed so confused about you talking to Negan, you hope you didn’t give your feelings about the man away? Nah he was probably just surprised. It will be fine, you think.

After getting ready for bed your phone starts buzzing again, you glance at it sat on the bedside table. ‘Video call from Negan’ grinning you answer the call “Hey!”, “Hey beautiful, how is your journey going?” You admire him for a second, dimples showing as he grins through the phone at you, why does he have to be so beautiful, “Yeah it’s going well I’m on the Texas/ New Mexico boarder, in a small town called Eunice I think. I’m in a small motel, I’ll be carrying on towards Los Angeles in the morning” you answer.

He’s walking about his kitchen, tidying up and nodding as you speak. You love the domestic feel to it, you wish you were there with him, just doing ordinary household chores. “That’s good! You’re making great time sweetheart. And at least now you have signal” he laughs, “Yeah there’s great service here, so what have you been up too?” You ask, “Not much darlin, just work. Some poor guy came in last week with a blown head gasket, it’s taking a lot of time to fix it. So I’ve been at the garage long hours this week. Other than that not a lot, Bill is trying to set me up on some date with his wife’s friend, but I’m not too sure” he admits.

Your stomach sinks at that, a date, no don’t go on a date you think, especially not when I’m thousands of miles across the country and can’t do anything to help stop it. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you try to keep yourself together. “Yeah?” You ask, voice sounding way more strained than you hoped. “Yeah, you ok sweetheart?” He asks looking at you full of concern. “Yeah I need to umm go get some sleep it’s late and I’m exhausted” you blurt out in haste.

“Yeah ok darlin, goodnight”, “Night” you answer before quickly hanging up. Tears sting your eyes as you lay back on the bed, harshly rubbing the tears away you sit up, sod this I’m going for a drink, you determine. Pulling some jeans and a jacket on, you cross over the road to the local bar.

Entering the building the smell of stale beer and smoke hits you, wrinkling your nose in slight disgust you sit at the bar, “A beer please” you ask the bartender, who nods at you placing a bottle in front of you.

Across the country Negan can’t get your reaction out of his head. He was thinking maybe the date would be a good way to move on. Because you probably didn’t feel the same as him, he was delusional right? Thinking he saw signs that you wanted him. But you went from cheerful to distressed in seconds, now he doesn’t know, he could always ask you, he knows this. But he also knows he couldn’t deal with rejection, not from you. He sits down on his couch placing his head in his hands as he tries to make sense of it all.

You on the other hand have just stumbled back into your room after a few drinks, and you feel in your drunken state that your heads so much clearer. With the new found confidence the alcohol has given you, you pull out your phone and send Negan a text before passing out on your bed.

Don’t go on that date Negan, please don’t …I love you

The buzzing of his phone he’s pulled out of his thoughts, reading your message he’s sat in shock. You love him? Gods you love him! That’s it he needs to see you. Jumping up he rushes to pack a bag, throwing as much as he can fit in the duffle. Moving to grab his keys, phone, charger and passport. A flight to you will be the quickest way!

Leaving the house he sends you a message back,

Don’t go anywhere sweetheart, I’m on my way! Xx

[muniimyg]

+ extra ! in our forever

series m.list

note: omg hiii ??? helloo ??? okok this was supposed to be posted for yoongi’s birthday... then i planned it to be written in time for my birthday/bts birthday... now it’s being posted mid summer.... like hello? where did the time go? i felt so stuck writing this extra because it feels more like the ending than the actual ending ? does that make sense lol... i planned to write their first kiss scene but honestly i don’t think i’ll be able to do so [unless i get the random urge to write it instead of studying for a final or smt] ! hoping to back more regularly when my work schedule stops being a bitch <3 slowly but surely,, my fics will continue to be deleted off my notes/drafts and pushed out frfr. thank u all of ur patience ,, i TRULY miss u all... laughing with u guys after every update literally gave me a reason to wake up and have smt to look forward to. i look forward to all of ur love and support for my upcoming / ongoing works. 

muwah muwah ,, kimi 💛✨🥂

ps… it’s lengthy y’all 💀 it’s to make up for being so mia HAHHAAA

warnings: smut & angst ,, MY FAVE DUO <3

taglist requests are closed !

taglist: @j3nnie101​ @tarahardcore​ @bbsantc​ @jeonqkooks-main​ @whoa-jo @ellesalazar​ @exhibitachol​ @pamzn​ @floweryjeons​ @boraength​ @4ksj​ @joonsjuice​ @taegijns​ @avtrns​ @taegix94​ @bloopkook​ @jihopesjoint​ @firesighgirl​ @vantxx95​ @damn-u-min-yoongi​ @yoongukie-ff​ @hopeworldjimin​ @thisisaburnphone​ @pb-n-juju​ @xjiminsthighsx​ @miss-rainy-days​ @percyjacksonlovesannabethchase​ @whitefoxgirl​ @slutforheeseung​​ @lovelytaes-blog​​

In the midst of the airport chaos, Yoongi finds you standing with a stupid sign that looks like it was decorated by your preschool students. 

It’s times like these when he can’t help but smile at how insufferable you are. Why are you so fucking cute? Standing there, looking for him in the sea of strangers with your warm greeting. It’s a sight he wishes to last forever. It makes his stomach turn knowing that it’s him you’re waiting for. It’s him you’re here for. 

It’s him. 

As usual, Yoongi finds you first and continues to let you look for him. He waits for your eyes to find his before he picks up his feet and makes his way to you. You smile, unable to hold yourself back from making your way to him as well. 

As you do so, Yoongi gets a closer and closer look at the sign. At that moment, his heart skips a beat, realizing that your preschool class knows about him.

The boyfriend. 

It’s such a simple label. It even sounds silly to say and even so; he never gets used to how it makes him feel. How excited he is to be yours and how others react to it... Something about little children running around the classroom, knowing their teacher ____ is loved and has a boyfriend makes him so happy. 

God, it’s so fucking embarrassing and it honestly doesn’t even matter... But why... Why was it consuming his mind so effortlessly? 

Though these thoughts and daydreams are so easily executed in his mind; being your boyfriend—the mere title of it—has him in shambles. He will never get used to this privilege. So, it’s only natural that he wonders if you talk about him to them just as much. He wonders if they’ve asked you any silly questions like... If you two have ever kissed or if you two were ever going to get married.. Better yet; if you have any babies with him...

All valid questions 3 year old's could ask you! Even more valid questions for your boyfriend to ponder. 

You talk about your students so much. Like, it’s a little ridiculous! You talk about them as if they’re yours. With that, the idea of having a family with you is prone to linger in his mind. However, that’s way down the line..

He’d have to propose to you first; marry you second, and then have children with you. All the while, loving you forever. 

These thoughts, though dramatic and honestly a little extensive—consume him. It’s a little strange and overwhelming considering that you two haven’t been together for that long. Not to mention, he had just left for nearly and month. 

Yet, isn’t that how you two bloomed anyway? Testing and proving that absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

He gulps as he watches you rush to him. You squeal as he picks up his speed and meets you halfway. There, you practically fall into his arms. 

Nothing is better than this. 

Yoongi has only been away for three weeks, but it feels like it’s been forever. You’re so used to having him by your side and these past three weeks just felt like torture. All the texts and photo updates were simply not enough. If anything, they made missing him even worse. 

But that’s all over now.

Now, he’s here. He’s kissing your cheeks and holding you close. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go.. Why should he? 

“I missed you,” Yoongi confesses in a rather whiney matter. It’s as if he wasn’t the one that left for a trip.. You clearly remember asking him if he really had to go. Then, he pouts with eyebrows knitting together. You tilt your head in response. “Ace...” 

You snicker at his whine.

“What?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Hahahaa! Yoongi, you just arrived—”

His lips crash into yours, kissing you so profoundly that your back arches and melts into his touch. Everyone is probably looking at you two—ever so the dramatic couple.

Oh, whatever.

You missed him too.

The boys are all patiently waiting for Yoongi back in his apartment. 

As you unlock the door, Yoongi drags his luggage in. Immediately, he’s greeted with a wave of affectionate yells and shoves. His friends, ever so the gentlemen, push him around so much until they all end up on the floor. Laughing together, you watch them help each other up. 

“We’re grown men. Stop embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend,” Yoongi reprimands his friends as he dusts himself off. The guys roll their eyes in response and you even scoff. 

“She was late to a game and you cried about it—”

Yoongi corrects his friend with a technicality. “I almost cried.”

“Same shit!” Jungkook laughs at Yoongi’s sad attempt to save face. He then wraps his arms around Yoongi and looks up at him with bambi eyes. “You know.. I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Why?”

“Because I was promised cotton candy if I showed up to your welcome home dinner... So where the fuck is it? Give it to me. Now.”

The boys exchange looks with one another. “Jungkook, we actually don’t have any cotton candy tonight... But, don’t you want to be here and spend time with us—”

“Fucking liars!” Jungkook flips everyone off before pushing Yoongi aside and exiting his apartment.��

Everyone stands there for a moment, unsure of what just happened.

“Did he really just leave?” Taehyung bursts into laughter. 

Before you know it, everyone joins in. Laughing together because Jungkook is so unhinged... Also because you all know Jungkook would be back in (give or take) 20 minutes.

Why?

It’s not like he has other friends that would put up with his dramatic ass. 

As expected, Yoongi kicks everyone out. 

They all hurry out, leaving a bit of a mess behind. You shake your head as you collect all the dishes and bring them to the sink. Soaking the dirty dishes, you scrape off any extras and set them aside. Meanwhile, Yoongi is in charge of sweeping, mopping, and putting anything Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook played with away. 

“How the fuck did Nam Joon manage to leave his sock here?” 

“His what?”

“Sock. He left one.”

You throw your head back, laughing and recalling how chaotic tonight was.

“He didn’t even drink that much tonight... I think you drank more than him,” you comment, turning to face Yoongi. He pauses on wiping the table and rolls his eyes at you. 

“Nam Joon is lightweight.”

“Yeah?” you challenge him, “what are you?”

“Wanna find out?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Let’s see how sloppy I fuck you tonight.”

You send him a glare, trying your best to mask your amusement. How could he be so unhinged? “Min Yoongi!”

“Yes, Ace?”

“Behave!” 

He shrugs at you. “I’ve been behaving.. Don’t believe me? Punish me tonight.”

You gag at his line. He laughs a bit as you make a cringe face at him. “Is that why you wanted me to sleep over?”

“No,” Yoongi slurs. You raise your eyebrows, eyes softening, with a small grin. Yoongi folds; “... okay, fine.”

You chuckle.

“Shut up!” He defends himself.

“I didn’t say anything!” With that, you burst into laughter. 

To put into perspective, the idea of sleeping over occurred after a very mature and communicative compromise. The compromise was that Yoongi had won 2 of 3 in an intense rock, paper, scissors game and you (have to because you lost) decided to spend the next week in his apartment. This would be a great time to reconnect and catch up on his trip. Regardless if he called and texted you every day during it; it’s different seeing his face light up as he relives his stories. You love listening to him talk about the things he loves—oddly enough, you’re all he can talk about these days.

Nevertheless, Yoongi tells you about how great his trip with his brother was. Seeing a bunch of NBA games in real life made him feel like he was doing something for his inner child. He talks about how much his brother bickered with him and how their taste in food was exactly the same so every time they went to restaurants; they would argue about who should get the other dish instead of both of them ordering the same meals.

You’re glad he’s back. 

Having your friends over tonight was such a good reset and time together. Now, the night concludes with cleaning with the love of your life. Could the simple things in life get any better than this?

Your thoughts are put on pause as you feel Yoongi’s arms wrap around your waist. As you continue to rinse the dishes, he rests his chin on the crook of your neck. 

“___,” he murmurs into your skin. You put the last dish on the dishrack before turning your body to be face to face with him. Tilting your head at him, a little confused with the underlying look of seriousness on his face. “Do your preschoolers ever ask about me?”

“Hmm?” you hum, unsure of what he means. “What about you?”

Yoongi purses his lips. “Like.. Do they know I’m your boyfriend? Who they’re making a sign for and shit?”

“Well, to be honest… We’re not really allowed to be talking about our personal life—”

“Bullshit.”

“Language,” you warn him. 

He kisses you in apology. 

“My bad,” he pouts. “Come on, ___. You’ve talked about me to them, haven’t you?”

You laugh, not quite understanding why he’s suddenly getting so heated about this. Sure, you’ve mentioned him once or twice.. How could you not? You’ve been in love with Yoongi for so long; it’s practically second nature to you. “Why do you care so much?”

Yoongi huffs, letting go of you. In a stiff manner, he shrugs. “I mean… The sign was made by them, right? They must know about me.”

“Umm, sure,” you roll your eyes. It’s not like this was turning into an argument or anything… But it’s just such an odd direction for the conversation to be going. “Aki, they’re a bunch of 3-year-olds. What does it matter if they know about you or not? I just asked them to help me make a sign because I was running out of time—”

“Do they ever ask you about marrying me?”

Your eyes widen. 

“What? No!”

Yoongi blinks. 

“Do you not want to marry me?” Yoongi crosses his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. His chest tightens as he begins to feel offended. “Why’d you answer like that?”

“Like what?” you slightly panic. 

All his words are so new to you. He’s never been this straightforward… Or has he? Have you simply missed how seamless and blunt his words have been because you’ve been so into him? Suddenly, you can’t think straight. Now, you’re really confused. 

Was he getting angry?

Was he hurt?

From what? What did you say that’s triggering his reaction? You try to run it back, but it’s too late. Yoongi takes a step back and asks; “do you not want to marry me?”

You’re tongue-tied, unable to answer him. 

He scoffs. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Woah,” you instantly feel offended. “You can’t just bring up marrying me and then call me annoying for needing time to process what you just asked me!”

“Why do you need time to answer it? It’s yes or no. Do you want to marry me or not?”

You glare at him. “Are you proposing?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t need to answer right now… And honestly? You could tone down the intense attitude. We haven’t seen each other in 3 weeks… Why can’t we just have a nice evening together?”

Yoongi sighs, slightly feeling more flustered. He takes a deep breath and surrenders to the feeling of hurt. 

“I think I’m gonna crash at Hobi’s tonight.”

“What?” you groan in disbelief. Is he actually serious? “Yoongi, this is your apartment. You won that stupid rock, paper, scissors game and I’m here. I had to switch my shift for tomorrow to be here with you and now what? You’re just going to leave me here?”

… And before Yoongi can think of a proper response to deflate or change the course this moment; he lets his sharp words cut through his lips. “Well, pardon me for not being in the mood to spend the rest of my evening with someone who I thought saw a future with me… Kind of a mood killer, you know? When your girlfriend is practically dating you to break up.” 

“I never said—”

“Drop it, ___. It’s whatever.”

Your face softens and you can’t help but tear up. His anger feels sharp and abrupt. 

“What now? Did I fuck up again?” Yoongi says coldly. 

You shake your head, eyes fluttering the tears away. “No, it’s okay. I know you’re upset.. But it’s Ace, you know? You always call me Ace. I haven’t heard you say my name in a while. It’s like you’re actually mad at me or something..”

Yoongi stays silent. 

You never expected this. 

A whole week passes by and the most that has happened between you and Yoongi since are pathetic “good morning” and “good night” text messages. You two avoid each other and barely replied in the group chats. You’ve picked up extra shifts and Yoongi has been spending most of his time with the guys, with his brother, or alone. Thank god he warned the guys not to reach out to you regarding the argument.. Yoongi knows he was wrong to get so heated up so quickly… But also, he knows deep down his feelings were valid. 

It’s so stupid. 

The way he has been handling this entire thing is so fucking lame. He knows it and you know it. You both are acting like such babies—unwilling to communicate and understand each other. To be fair; you two have never reached the part of an argument where it actually made one another upset. This was the first time and it’s honestly the worst fucking thing you two have gone through. 

It’s sickening. 

It’s painful waiting for his calls and missing his daily updates… Avoiding eye contact and hesitating to hold your hand when you two are around each other. It doesn’t help that you can’t even remember the last time you two kissed and held each other since his arrival home. It has practically been a month since you two have been together together. 

Now it all aches. 

It hurt him to think that you couldn’t see a future with him when he knows his future is you. It ached so much to see the way your face went blank… Why were you unsure? Has he not given you all the reassurance you need? Has he not been doing enough? Was the 3 for 3 not good enough? … Rather, will he ever be good enough?

All these questions flooded his mind from morning to night. He waits for your reply every day and wonders if he should just swallow his pride and be the first to yield. 

This was your first disagreement as a couple and he isn’t too sure how to navigate through it. What is he supposed to do? His past relationships were never as dramatic as this.. Well, truth be told; he didn’t really care about his exes as much as he cares about you. Dramatic or not, the feelings were real and all more of the reason to push forward with begging for forgiveness. 

Begging to be yours. 

Begging to be loved. 

So what now? Does he surprise you with a significant gesture and make a bunch of promises that he knows are half-assed? In a sense, he was still angry. However, Yoongi knows better. His anger can’t be the reason he loses you.. And as we all know; Min Yoongi is a sore loser. 

Forever, Yoongi will refuse to lose you. 

The mere idea of dating you only for you two to break up… Sickening. He would rather crawl to you than walk away. As this realization hits him, he rushes inside his apartment and then into his room. He should go see you. 

Now. 

He has to see you now.

Yoongi doesn’t know where you are. 

At first, he had a few ideas of where you could be. At your apartment, in the library, or at the pool watching Jungkook’s swim practice.. He runs around campus desperate to find you. In all honesty, the speech he had prepared got lost along the way. As he hurriedly searches for you, the only words that ring are: it doesn’t end here. 

We don’t end here.

I love you—

You. 

Yoongi sees you sitting on the same bench you pitched three for three. You’re swinging your legs, watching the morning waves crash against the shore. He soaks in the sight of you looking so at peace. He loves how pretty you are from a far.

And then it hits him: he’s so lucky to love you.

It’s truly a privilege to love you because of everything you are. His anger and all the reasons he had gaslit himself into self-sabotaging your love for him—the extension of your beauty… It was so fucking wrong. Maybe he got too comfortable believing that he had you. Maybe he was too mesmerized with the idea of you two lasting forever that he forgot to even fucking ask it. 

He was wrong. 

He should’ve asked first. 

… But that’s the thing about being in love; you have faith. You believe in everything about the person you love. You believe in the good and that the universe sees you well enough to bless you forever. You believe in all the shooting stars and wishful thinking… You believe in forever when you meet the one that makes forever feel like it’s not enough.. But, you’d take it anyway. 

Drowning in his thoughts, Yoongi stands still and practically zones out. Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you see him. You see him standing there with the most devastated and desperate look on his face. Then, his eyes flicker to you. 

Your eyes meet and lock. His are glossy with tears building up. Even from a far, you can tell he has horrible eye bags. Perhaps, he hasn’t been sleeping well at night. Overall, he looks like a mess. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and your favourite white FOG shirt he owns. Even so… He looks restless. 

For his sake, you pretend not to see him. You turn back and watch the sea. Sitting in silence, you take deep breaths as you feel him walking toward you. You’re sure he’s here now but you don’t want to say anything. 

What could you say?

And it’s weird because you’d expect him to clear his throat and speak.. But he doesn’t. No, he stays silent. Yoongi also doesn’t sit down next to you. Instead, he stands a few feet away and watches the waves kiss the shore. 

Never has he ever felt so jealous of the sea.

An hour and a half passed by since Yoongi found you and within this time: he stays silent.

He follows you around, trailing behind you like a fucking loser. His head is bowed down for the most part and he focuses on following your shoes. 

You don’t have any classes today so he finds it a little weird that you’re running around doing random shit. You aren’t buying anything or meeting up with anyone.. It just feels like you’re stalling. In a stupid way; he’s thankful you’re doing so.

He doesn’t say anything though.. Why would he? All the words he had prepared got lost as he followed you around. 

All of this simply angers you. 

The quiet moment shared between you two at the seaside bench was cute but now he’s just being fucking annoying. Is he serious? He blew up a week ago and now he can’t even apologize for leaving you alone that night? For how cold he’s been? For being the worst boyfriend ever? 

Oh my god. 

It pisses you off so much. For a man that’s such a sore loser; he surely isn’t doing much to win you over. 

That’s just it! All men do is lie. 

By now, your feet hurt and you’re too annoyed to keep playing whatever game this is. You pick up your pace and turn toward the direction of your apartment. 

Yoongi follows. 

Your irritated mood begins to cloud your thoughts. You can feel your frustration take over and you just know you can’t do this anymore. The silence, the sad puppy look on his face, and the simple fact that everything between you two just feels so paper thin—no. This is not it. This isn’t want you want. 

You pause and turn to him. 

He lifts his head and blinks at you slowly. Still, he stays silent. He doesn’t even greet you with a smile.. Nothing. What the fuck? What’s the point of any of this?

The fucking audacity of this man. 

“That’s it?”

Yoongi shrugs. 

“Coward,” you hiss. Taking a step forward, he follows your lead. You’re close enough to him to reach out and hit his chest with your fist. You don’t do anything. You stay still, just like him. In your head, you’re crying and he’s holding you. In your head, he’s already pouring his heart out and you’re mending everything back together. In your head; Yoongi is fighting for you. 

“Do you have anything to say?” you ask desperately. “You can’t do this, you know? You can’t ignore me for a week and then just show up and not say anything. You can’t follow me around like you care when you obviously don’t. What the hell, Yoongi? If it’s over, then just say it. Say it so I can go home and wonder why the fuck the universe gave me you just to lose you because I.. I’m falling apart here—I can’t—I don’t know what’s going on and you just spent like two hours not saying a single word to me. If you have nothing to say then fine! It’s over—I don’t fucking know what’s going on anymore. Do you?”

“Not really,” Yoongi reveals. “I love you.. That’s all I know.”

His hands are on your waist, guiding you through your own apartment.

Yoongi’s kisses have never felt so good. His lips are so addicting—you can’t stop kissing him back. As innocent as the kissing goes; you can’t say the same for his hands. Once on your waist, now slipped in between your panties and your skin. 

Your body shivers from his touch.

“Slow down,” you pull away from him; “I’m still mad at you.”

Lies.

“Good,” he snickers deviously, “hate sex sounds really good right now.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I can change that.”

Without warning, Yoongi picks you up and throws you onto your bed. There, you watch him take off his jacket, his shirt, and then just as he’s about to take off his pants; you crawl to him. 

“Can I?”

Yoongi fights for his life to stay calm and cool. He succeeds as he lets out two words: “say please.”

In response, you glare at him. “You want me to say please when you’re about to get head—”

No warning. 

Yoongi tugs his sweatpants down and grabs a handful of your hair. He shoves his thick cock into your pretty mouth. It shuts you up immediately. The moment you feel his velvety skin in your mouth, you moan at the taste of his precum on your mouth. Yoongi throws his head back from the relief and literal pleasure of your warm mouth wrapped around him. In contrast to his initial action, Yoongi thrusts in gently. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag—tears triggered. You suck him as he moves back and forth. It makes him weak. How are you so fucking pretty while you do the dirtiest thing? He doesn’t know if he hates himself or not… How could he be doing this to you? At the same time, how could he not? 

He’s wanted this for so long. He missed you so fucking much.

“Mhmm,” he moans, “hate me yet?” 

He pulls you away from his dick. You grab it with your hands and jerk him off. Tilting your head, you bat your eyes at him. You shake your head at him, “I love you, Aki.”

Yoongi’s heart collapses. With no time to waste, he bends down and kisses you deeply. “I love you too, Ace.”

Just as you’re about to continue, Yoongi shifts you to lie down. Though a little confused, you follow his lead. “Wait, I wasn’t done sucking your—”

“I need you,” Yoongi confesses so sinfully. There’s truth in his voice. The kind that feels urgent and “I need you more than you need me.. Please, ___.”

You nod, fully understanding what he wants. 

Laying on your back, you spread your legs for him. He assists you and helps you take off your pants. He tosses them aside before running his thumb on the band of your panties. For a moment, his hands roam around you. He runs his thumb against your heat before pushing them aside to see you bare. 

“Just take them off,” you advise him. He rolls his eyes at you. 

“I have a thing for your panties, Ace.. Holy shit, give me a fucking minute.” Yoongi hisses his words and it makes you laugh. “Don’t fucking laugh, you cockslut.”

“I’ll stop laughing when you finally fuck me.”

“Be patient.”

You cross your arms at him.

“Aren’t you the one that said you need me—oh my god!” you gasp, feeling yourself begin to throb at the feeling of Yoongi’s spit running down your folds. He smirks at how fast you shut up. Yoongi then takes off your panties entirely and then spreads your legs in front of him. 

He jerks himself off a few times before hitting his hard cock against your pussy. Your breath hitches when he does so. “Are you wet enough?” he asks with no intention of waiting for your reply. He uses his thumb and index finger to spread your folds and judges for himself. He then spits again and massages it into your wet pussy. “Better?”

You nod, unable to answer. “Don’t finger me,” you beg. “Just fuck me, okay?”

“You don’t want me to finger you? How about I at least eat you out first—”

“You didn’t let me finish giving you a blowjob!”

Yoongi laughs, “I would’ve fucking nutted so hard in your mouth if I had let you suck it for one more second. Come on, Ace! I love eating you out. I want to make you feel good—”

“You’re not being fair,” you whine. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

“You do more than enough—fuck. Wow. Okay. Rude! Don’t be a bitch.”

You took off your top.

Now, he’s distracted by your plump breast. In all honesty, his favourite thing is to watch your boobs bounce when you two fuck. Whether it’s missionary and he’s on top of you; listening to your soft moans and lewd praises or if you were riding him; heavily breathing and concentrating on getting yourself off… He loves it.

He fucking loves it all. 

And so be it. 

Yoongi gives in. You smile in pure happiness as he gulps and settles himself in between your legs. He pushes himself inside and you moan in relief. 

Fucking finally.

It’s been too long. 

Yoongi thrusts in and out, completely melting in how good it feels to fuck you raw. He watches intensely as your breast move up and down from his thrusts. He looks at you and your stupid fuck me eyes that have him weak. All he knows is that he’s yours. His entire existence is because of you—because of moments like these where he is completely and utterly yours. 

As he fucks you, all he can think about is how much he loves you. How this is what home feels like—how good life actually is. It’s you. Everything good in his life is connected to you. It completely tears him apart. 

The more emotional he gets as he processes his feelings, the harder he fucks you. Soon, you’re moaning like never before. He fucks you so good that the bed practically shakes and your entire world begins to spin. He sits up more and grabs one of your breasts to help himself stabilize. As he continues to fuck you, all you can do is whine his name. 

When you reach your climax, you cream all over his cock. He doesn’t stop there though. No, he keeps on going. He keeps on going until he can’t take it anymore and his body collapses and falls on top of yours. There, you wrap your arms and legs around him. Sloppily, he finishes inside you. 

“My universe,” he whimpers, “you’re my universe.”

It’s a dewy rainy morning. 

Your bedroom window is open and the cloudy sky only makes your empty room feel gloomier. 

You woke up naked and alone. After the third round—because you’d be a complete idiot to think that Yoongi would call it a night after one round—you had fallen asleep next to the love of your life. 

Where is he now?

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt to wake up alone. Was all of that… Just break up sex? It couldn’t be! In between rounds, you and Yoongi found it in yourselves to make jokes and basically sink into your old vibes… No way did he just leave you. 

You gather your sheets and prepare to get up. Just as you’re about to, Yoongi comes out of the washroom. His hair is a little damp and he’s only wearing his sweatpants. 

Oh, what a sight. 

You squint at him and rub your eyes. “I thought you left.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he laughs, throwing his shirt at you. It lands on top of your head. Taking it, you put it on drop your sheets. 

“Can you pass me my panties please?”

Yoongi leans against your bathroom doorframe and shakes his head. “Nah.”

“Don’t be a dick—”

“Round four?”

You laugh. “You haven’t even said sorry yet and you think you can sneak in a forth round?”

Yoongi shrugs at you nonchalantly. “I snuck in three rounds last night… What’s another three? Three for three.” He mocks you. 

You stick your tongue out at him. 

Silence falls between you two as the sound of gradual raindrops hit your window. You turn your head and watch the rain begin to fall. 

“Didn’t know it was going to rain… Isn’t it the middle of summer? Kinda strange, don’t you think—”

“I’m sorry.” 

Yoongi folds. 

You turn back to him and see he’s on his knees before you. His head, just like yesterday, hangs low. 

“I overreacted. I felt like I was losing you. I was so stubborn and defensive that I ended up fighting for my pride rather than us… ___,” he pauses and lifts his head. “I’ve never been in love like this before. I never knew how much my feelings could consume me and how much I want us to work out. I was trying to fight for us. I know my words aren’t much; but I hope asking is enough.. I’ll be better. I’ll be so good to you from now on, I swear… The jealousy and insecurities I have… I’m so messed up sometimes—I know… But I’m trying to be good enough to stay in your orbit.”

“Yoongi—“

“I was trying to pitch forever with you and I didn’t even give you a fair chance to accept or decline—”

“I would’ve said yes,” you interrupt him. “If you had asked properly; the answer is yes. Of course, I’d marry you… In due time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I’d have to introduce you to my preschoolers first but I’m sure you’ll win them over super fast—”

“Be serious.”

“I am!” you laugh, patting the spot next to you for him to join. He gets up and sits beside you. “I think we were just caught up in the moment. We were separated for a hot minute—I feel like it was just… Miscommunication? We can work on it. We’ll just have to be more patient with one another and maybe not ignore each other for a week?” 

Yoongi sighs and nods. “I still feel really shitty about everything.”

“Good,” you tease him as you cup his cheeks with the palm of your hands. He kisses them before resting in your embrace. “Make it up to me someday.”

“... Did you do it?”

“No.”

He stares at the ring box he purchased with his brother during his trip to the States. The engagement ring you had not-so-secretly pinned on your Pinterst board was only available in the States.. Of course, because the universe was on his side; the trip and the ring’s time and location lined up. 

“I thought you were going to propose to her when you got back? If that stupid fight didn’t happen, we would’ve been having a different conversation right now. Did you guys even make up?” Yoongi’s brothers voice echoes in the call. “You dragged me to that fucking store and had me pick out details for like twenty rings!”

Yoongi sighs as he closes the ring box and shoves it inside his desk. Truth be told.. He wasn’t planning to propose to you yet. He just wanted the ring ready for when the time comes. 

“Someday,” Yoongi promises. “I’ll make it up to her someday in our forever.”

[wexhappyxfew]

Okay but to add to the Kennedy x Bucky Stalag thoughts, Kennedy grounds Bucky and gives him a sense of an anchor. Just like you said Shannon, he has someone he wants to take care of and whoops he’s just realized he’s in love.

But then… what’s this? The flip side, Kennedy also realizes she’s in love. All of a sudden these feelings are bubbling up for this protective, empathetic, caring man who is watching out for her and who has sorta been on her radar but she’s never really taken the time to notice. He’s holding her hand and listening to her talk about her trauma. And all of a sudden she realizes she’s not alone in this mess and she has someone who wants to watch out for her specifically because of who she is (not just that she’s a woman) and she wants to watch out for them too. She cares about all the boys in the 100th but this is different.

Please ignore if this is not the vibe, but this is where my mind went👉🏼👈🏼

-☀️

HI SUNSHINE ANON!!!!! <3333333 i saw this in the early hours of the morning before work and it positively made me so so happy and i was so excited to answer it!!! PLEASE KNOW. this is absolutely the vibe!!! you really seem to understand the dynamic between kennedy and bucky and it makes me so happy to see people express that through their analysis, depiction and dissection of these two. so truly! THANK YOU!!!! <333333 please enjoy my ramblings! i put it under the cut too incase i get lengthy haha (which i tend to do).....

kennedy ALSO realizing she is in love is HUGE. because let's dig into kennedy and her past for a moment - because we've done that with judy (and it is a heavy influence for) and it's only right we do that for kennedy (i feel the need to do it for annie now too haha).

KENNEDY THOUGH -- she comes from a wealthier background than most - we've seen the mentions, mom set her up with a few guys at the country club, had a fairly good childhood - pretty happy and joyful, attended parties and charity events with her family, she came from good things to say the least. a few other worthy mentions - kennedy was in love once before, she knows what it feels like to be in love and to be heartbroken - she protects herself (naturally). she grew up with all brothers, so she knows how to stand up for herself too when things aren't right.

SO, with bucky entering the picture - and most importantly, her realizing that she is in fact IN LOVE with bucky - takes a lot for her. she doesn't trust too easily and when someone is sticking their neck out for her, she usually is always questioning it. just like when she dumbs down bucky in that one fic where he said she could rest in his bunk after a nightmare - he was just being nice, kennedy says. she doesn't give herself really enough credit for things like this. and bucky blows that out of the water for her. and shows her that she CAN be loved.

i love your wording - this protective, empathetic, caring man who is watching out for her and who has sorta been on her radar but she’s never really taken the time to notice. HEAVY on the 'sorta been on her radar'. kennedy isn't blind. this definitely is on ideas for writing but, when she first met bucky, it was before their first practice run when kennedy became a waist gunner for him. he was all sweet as peaches, shaking her hand, offering some compliments on her shooting skills. and she remembered hearing about him before seeing him and so once she saw him, it sorta ticked in her mind like hm i like this guy, but nothing more. and then bucky was just always there - even when she moved to silver bullets. bucky was just....there. and so when his few attempts at expressing himself towards her don't go as planned, she distances a bit in a way. not entirely, but she thinks that if she gets too locked into the idea of them possibly even being people that work out with one another, she would never go back.

until bucky goes down. and she does too. and they're in the stalag. i would consider it their moment that just changes everything for them. because kennedy realizing like i am in love with this man and there's no stopping at this point, she absolutely makes it well-known. because let's be for real - she's hella protective over him right back. would 100% fight people for him (and he'd be proud as anything watching her). but....no doubt, her recognition of being in love with him makes her realize a whole lot more about life than before (and more moments that she shrugged off too).

also can i just-

She cares about all the boys in the 100th but this is different.

this is my favorite piece of the ask sunshine anon. like. YES. EXACTLY. kennedy is a fiercely protective and loyal friend. you don't mess with her. and she loves all the 100th boys with her every being - like: her and brady got drunk one time on schnapps and then bet each other to ride bikes at 2 in the morning with bessie to supervise them (bessie took them both back to barracks to tuck them into bed), kennedy and buck are VERY like-minded and have shared drinks before, kennedy has even helped hambone learn how to dance and not feel weird like!!!! BUT WITH BUCKY. it is a whole different ball game (literally lmao no pun intended). it just is. and she doesn't know why. until she realizes that. shit. she loves him. a whole lot.

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 1 : The Beginning

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary. Note: This fic is relatively lengthy. If there is sufficient readership, it may be updated continuously. The content is purely the author's imagination and is not related to the actors. There is no intention to disrespect or cause harm to the actors in any way. Please use discretion when reading.* Talk: This is my first attempt at writing a fic, and English is not my native language. If there are any mistakes, I apologize in advance. Feel free to comment and provide feedback.

November, 2022

Bad Day!!!!

 “I’m trying to find a gallery to host an art exhibition for a graduate with my own master’s degree, but I still can’t find it.  Even though this exhibition will be held at the beginning of next month!”

"Damn it! Doing things by oneself is really tiring," Sansa, a twenty-six-year-old young female graduate student, murmured about the situation she was in.

London, a beautiful city, is a dream place for many people, and Sansa is another resident of this city, her hometown. In fact, the young woman had only been back in London for two years, having studied in America at the age of seventeen before returning to pursue a master's degree in England again. After being away for so long!

At present, Sansa is about to graduate with a master's degree within the next month. However, before she could finish, She must organize an art exhibition for her graduation, and it's been almost a month now!

She hasn't been able to find a gallery to showcase her work yet, probably because this is the art festival season held all over London throughout the month. This makes it very difficult for Sansa to find good galleries, as everyone needs a place to display their work!

Sansa thought… this would be the end for her!

The girl picked up her favorite headphones and put them on, selecting her personal playlist. Her right arm held a drawing board, and her left arm carried a bag filled with books that she had just stopped by to buy.

Adding to her own chaos, she picked up her favorite book, which she hadn't finished reading yet, while on a trip to her favorite restaurant in Soho, central London. She is living in her own world, cutting off the chaos from her surroundings—a world full of music, literature, and pleasure that she easily finds from the letters in front.

Sansa stopped in front of Mr. Louis' shop, located on the corner of Soho Street. She always has a table that she likes to sit at—a wall-mounted table, the only one of its kind. Even though there is another table nearby, not too far apart, her table is the most private of all the tables in the restaurant. Miss Louise always prepared this table for she when she needed it.

'He is the kindest,' she admired the shop owner.

The young woman walked towards her usual table, ready to read books and listen to music. She doesn't usually pay much attention to her surroundings, tending to only care about things that she wants to care about. Everything else is just the air or atmosphere around her.

She placed a drawing board next to the wall, always choosing to sit in the chair on the left. Checking, putting away her headphones, and hanging her bag next to the chair, she picked up the book she had left reading, placing it on the table to wait for further reading.

Sansa noticed that at the table next to her, there was a group of people sitting, but she didn't care much about them. She even got annoyed because she felt a little uncomfortable not being able to sit in private in this area alone.

Before Mr. Louis walked in to welcome her,

"Hello, Sansa," he smiled at the girl as always.

"Hello, Miss Louis."

"How are you today?"

Ah, the expression on her face probably says it all.

"Pretty bad. Many things are not in my favor today," she replied with a sad expression.

"Oh, is there anything in this store that will help you feel better? Do you want it as usual?"

She smiled back at the man around her father’s age who owned the shop.

"Then I’d like a cheeseburger as usual. This time, I’d like something juicy, and I’d like a chocolate milkshake with cheese," she said, winking at him like a close friend.

Sansa really likes the cheeseburgers here. They're so delicious you’ll be begging for you life!

"Sure. I’ll inform the chef to prepare a cheeseburger. The juiciest and most special for you. Wait twenty to thirty minutes, and in a moment, we’ll bring you a milkshake."

"Thank you,"

she thought, even though today was a bad day! At least, she got to eat something delicious to comfort herself!

After finishing ordering food, Sansa picked up the book and continued reading. She likes to read books very much. It’s like it’s her thirty-third organ. The more she reads, the more she enjoys the story. Books often make her feel like she’s immersed in the writing.

"Hello,"

Sansa looked up slightly at the owner of the voice.

"Hello," she replied and continued reading!

"I’m Tom."

The young man introduced himself. Sansa looked up at him again. Tom is considered to be a good-looking man, and his demeanor seems like that of a good-natured person.

She smiled at him but didn’t reply. Pretty bad manners, right? But yes! Sansa doesn’t want to continue talking to Tom. She just wanted to read a book quietly, only by herself!

“What is your name?”

Damn it! She thought, these men! You really are such a pushover. Sigh!… She probably have to respond politely.

“Sansa.”

“I saw you walking with a drawing board. Are you an artist, Sansa?”

“I’m an art major.”

Before she lowered her head and continued reading her book. ‘Shit,’ She thought to herself. She’s not good at talking. It was always difficult for her.

“Oh…wow, that’s really great.” Tom didn’t seem to relent.

“I really want to see your work. Can I have your IG so I can follow your work?”

She thought for a moment before answering him,

“I’m sorry. I don’t use social media.”

Tom’s face looked disappointed. “Then can I have your number instead?”

What is this!? Sansa cursed in thought.

“I only have my personal number, and I still want it to be private. I can’t give it to you; I’m sorry.”

Tom’s face was now extremely disappointed. Before Tom got up, preparing to walk back to his table. “You are very beautiful.”

Tom turned around and spoke before walking away from her table…

Sansa didn’t feel a thing at the compliment. She just kept her head down and continued reading. Because this wasn’t the first time she had encountered a situation like this. And she really doesn’t like it!! From an event just a moment ago, this made she feel a bit uneasy after being interrupted from reading and made her not in the mood to read further.

The young woman took off her leather jacket before folding it thick, then put it on the back. Then, she took out the curling iron, shook and spread it around before leaning back in the chair and relaxing. She raised her face to the soft afternoon sunlight, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes… picking up the book and putting it down to rest her eyes from the light that shines in. And now, her mind is calmer…

On another side, four young men were drinking coffee and talking about the job they had just interviewed for today.

“How was your film interview today, Cillian?” a fellow screenwriter asked, a forty-six-year-old young actor.

“Excellent,” he replied.

While Cillian was talking with his screenwriter friend Steve, his eyes caught sight of a woman! ‘Wow, what a beautiful woman!’

he thought. She had large, bright green eyes, long eyelashes, dark, well-lined eyebrows, a curved nose that complemented her sharp jaw, full, pink lips, slender and chubby. That sharp face fits perfectly with hair that is loosely tied. And there was a small tangled strand of hair. It fell down on her left cheek, making her look so strikingly beautiful that he had to turn and look!

Cillian saw her carrying a pile of things. One hand holding a book, another person holds a large chalkboard. She also had headphones over her ears. He noticed that she wasn't looking or paying attention to anything around her, and he thought that she should definitely come sit at the empty table next to his! Personally, he didn’t want anyone to sit at that table because it will give him and his friends more privacy.

But it’s okay!! It would be good if she came and sat. ‘Because she is quite beautiful.’ That made him feel somewhat satisfied.

The older male actor occasionally glanced at the unknown woman but didn’t pay much attention to her until a man walked up to her.

‘Is he going to be her boyfriend?’ Cillian thought.

His and hers’ tables were not too far apart, allowing him to hear their conversation. And from the conversation, Cillian then knew… that the young man just came to flirt with her. He was quite surprised at the young woman’s expression. Plus, she acted clearly bored. She could deny that young man almost every sentence. If he were that man, he would have given up.

Cillian was surprised when she said that she doesn’t use social media. It was strange for a woman her age that most people are addicted to social media. She refused to give the man her number with the most ingenious reason, he thought, ‘Her are very clever.’

Before he returned to chatting with his tablemates. But then… ‘Fuck?!’ She took off that black leather jacket! His and his tablemates’ eyes immediately turned towards her.

Damn it! He didn’t want to look at all, but he really couldn’t help but glance at the position of the girl and him. It makes the two of them look like they’re sitting next to each other, probably only an arm’s length apart. Making him see her clearly! Her skin is white and smooth, contrasting with the black strapless, making it even more interesting to look at. Her figure is just as beautiful, with her face, especially when she unwrapped her hair and spread it out.

‘Damn!’ he thought, this was one of the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. Her side view was strikingly beautiful. Her nose was high and slender, sharply contrasting with her jaw. He swallowed. Can’t stop glancing at this beautiful young woman!!!

She stimulated him even more when he smelled a faint scent, soft and sweet. He had never smelled anything like this before.

It’s so mysteriously fascinating?

Cillian thought. This girl is quite interesting. Not from her face or figure, but it’s her personality that doesn’t seem to care about anything. She fell asleep in the middle of the restaurant, took the book and covered her face. It’s like there’s only her in this area. She didn’t even turn to look or pay attention to their table, which really made him feel at ease.

He’s starting to like her!!

[puckinghischier]

y’all don’t understand how badly i wish i could crank out book length fics every other week, or stick with a concept for more than two parts, but unfortunately i have the curse

the having an idea that could easily be so insanely lengthy but the longer i write it and move the story along i feel like its redundant and i don’t know how to get from point a to point b anymore curse

so know that i have so many requests that i’ve either started and rewritten or thought about every day but can’t make myself start them bc i know in order to do them properly they need to be long, and not just something i whip out in 30mins on my phone

anyways, there’s your writing frustrations of the day with alli

[duckingwriting]

What's this? Another NEW fic in less than 24 hours? Why yes. Yes it is.

In a FB group, someone made a comment about these two dating when Clark doesn't know Batman's secret identity. And I love fake relationships sooo...

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Superman All Media Types(not really based in any one verse) Relationship: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Martha Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, other's mentioned Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Secret Identity, finding out about secret identity, Secret Identity Revealed, Pining, friends(kinda) to lovers Words: 4,691

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For those that don't the story is bellow the cut!

It was supposed to be simple. Just publicity. Playboy Bruce Wayne and the man of steel Superman. And Wayne had agreed to it. He had smiled and laughed when it was proposed to him. It rubbed Clark wrong to be used that way. To be nothing more than another notch in the pile of Wayne flings was not something the boy from Kansas had ever planned for himself. But Clark had agreed. When he had brought it up to the League he had expected the dark knight of Gotham to list logical reasons not to...but when Clark had turned his blue eyes to him the bat was surprised. 

"Why would I say no?" Batman had growled in the voice that always sent a shiver down Clark's spine. Clark had always hoped for a closer relationship with the secretive man, they worked well together. Clark had grown to look forward to his dry wit. He knew it was one sided. Knew the other man would never actually see him the way he wanted to be seen. But it had still hurt so damn much to be told that he should date, even fake date, someone else.

With Batman in agreement to the plan the rest of the league agreed easily enough so the whirlwind affair between the man of steel of Metropolis and the most eligible bachelor playboy of Gotham City. 

According to the tabloids it started like all affairs between a superhero and civilian always did. A rescue with some extra chemistry. So when Bruce Wayne got himself being held up for ransom, instead of Batman saving the day, Superman swooped in. Clark made sure Lois and Jimmy were in position to capture the picture of him swooping in and holding Bruce in his arms. He was surprised by how well the other man fit, almost as surprised by the muscle he could feel beneath the suit. He supposed given the active sex life the other man had it made sense that he would be developed.

They both pretended not to know about the cameras pointed at them when Superman landed and placed the billionaire on his own feet. Bruce Wayne's hands had trailed over Clark's shoulders and chest as he thanked him for the save. 

Clark swore he would not be an actual notch in the man’s bed post. Just one in the tabloids. 

He silently swore to write a lengthy apology letter to Ma and Pa.

=-=

Clark held the billionaire close, as he stared down at him. The noise of the gala disappearing into the back of his mind. The only thing he could focus on was pressing his mouth against the other man's again. So Clark did it again. The first kiss had been instigated by Bruce. Really it had been such a soft gentle touch. Barely even though in reality. Just enough to give the tabloids more to talk about with superman attending Bruce Wayne's party of the year. But the smooth touch had lit something deep in Clark's soul. 

Clark tangled his fingers into Bruce's dark locks and held him close. Lights flashed and Clark knew they would make the front page. That was the goal after all. But he wanted more. Spending time with Bruce, Clark was starting to wonder if being a notch in his bed post would be such a horrible idea. 

"Well well well," Bruce grinned up at him with a too bright smile. "Here I thought you weren't going to give into me."

"I still haven’t." Clark countered. But he let his hands slide down and groped the Billionaire. Bruce rocked his hips forward against Clark and Clark had to close his eyes to remind himself that he was in his super suit and it did not hide much. 

Then there was a scream. Clark's head jerked away as he focused in on the sound. "I have to go."

"Go save the innocent. Maybe there will be a reward for you tonight." Bruce gave him a last kiss for the reporters before Clark left with only a light breeze and the paparazzi pictures as the only proof he had ever been there. 

=-=

"Are you okay, Batman?" Clark hovered near the other man's side where they say in the infirmary.

"I'll be fine." Batman answered watching as Oliver Queen finished getting patched up.

"If you take off the armor I could take a look?" Clark offered looking at Gotham knight. If he didn't know better Clark would swear that the other man had some kind of heat vision from the glare directed at him.

"I don't need your help." Batman stated firmly and Clark sighed but let it drop. He was not sure what he was expecting, it wasn't like Batman ever really gave him the time of day. Instead he turned xray vision on the other members of the team without lead lined suits to check and make sure all broken bones were being attended to. He had been hoping to talk to the man enough to convince him to help Clark get out of his fake relationship with Bruce Wayne but he figured now was probably not the time for it to happen. He rolled his shoulders instead. 

"Don't you have a date tonight?" Hal grinned from where he stood against the counter tossing a glass of some liquid back and forth. "How is the little rich brat?"

Clark rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "It was the Gala. I left him there. There were photographs."

Diana narrowed her eyes on him and Clark was forced to look away from her. He knew it would not end well for him if she got suspicious. She always seemed to know him better than he knew himself. It was not that he did not want to face the feelings he was developing for the other man. He just did not want to face the heartbreak that he knew would be coming.

"Are you gonna take him home to the farm?" Hal laughed as Barry came up and snatched the jar from him, setting it aside before he could do something stupid like drop it.

Clark blinked at the other man. It was completely ridiculous.  The image of billionaire Bruce Wayne in Smallville Kansas. Sipping coffee and talking to Ma and Pa at their worn kitchen table. Clark grinned, it was perfect. He did not have to be the one to break it off with Bruce before his heart got too tangled up with the man. He could get the other man to do it. "Maybe I will."

Rendering Hal speechless was glorious. Clark turned to Batman, hoping to see his lips twitch slightly as he often did when he was impressed with something Clark did. But the bat was gone. Clark's shoulders slumped slightly. Saying goodbye to the rest of the team Clark left the watch tower. He wondered if it would be easier if he gave up on men. He couldn't ever seem to develop feelings for any that were within his reach. Batman and his distrust and secrets. And Bruce Wayne with his mile long list of broken hearts littering his red carpet. He chose to go home instead of the Gala. He needed to get his emotions under control so he could enact his plan to save his heart.

=-=

Introducing Bruce Wayne to his ma and pa was a disaster. 

Not that it went badly, the opposite in fact. Bruce was polite and kind. And he did not seem out of place sitting at their kitchen table. Initially Ma and Pa had been a bit tense but had eventually relaxed around the man who had more smile than brains. Clark had hoped Bruce would baulk at meeting the parents. That seemed far too much of a relationship for the man's past. But he had only nodded his head and agreed to go. He joked that Clark had already met Alfred, the closest thing he had to a father. Alfred and sighed and made a comment about having too many children. Clark had laughed. 

Bruce shared stories about his children with the Kents who in turn shared stories about Clark. He almost forgot that this was not supposed to be a real relationship when Pa offered to show Bruce a few tricks handling cows that may help the Billionaire who admitted his son had gotten a pet cow. 

"Clark, dear, will you help me in the kitchen?" Ma asked. Clark watched Bruce and Pa for a moment before joining his ma in the kitchen rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Yes, Ma?" He knew that at some point his ma would ask why he had brought his fake boyfriend home, after all he had told them the truth so they wouldn't be swept up in the media flurry and think he had hidden something from them.

"Are you sure this relationship is what you claimed?" Ma was elbow deep in soap water and Clark reached for a towel to start drying the dishes as she put them in the rack.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." Clark could not meet her gaze. He could lie to Diana better than Ma. While touching her lasso.

"Clark Joseph Kent."

Clark sighed and stared down at the plate in his hand. "I'm sure that's all it's supposed to be, Ma. Bruce...I'm sure you've read about him. It's just publicity for Wayne Enterprises and the League."

"Mmm..." Ma hummed and handed the next plate to Clark. "Perhaps. But there are no papers here. Why would he agree to meet your parents if it's just a show? Not many know Clark Kent and Superman are the same."

Clark had not thought about that and his head jerked up and he looked at Ma with wide eyes. Why had Bruce agreed to this? Could he be as immune to Clark as Clark thought? Or was he sliding just as much as Clark was?

"Your father and I love and support you no matter what." Ma squeezed his arm once before the door opened and Bruce and Pa came in.

"You can bring your boys over some time." Pa was nodding his head. 

"Thank you. I'll talk to them and Clark about it some time." Bruce glanced towards Clark and Clark felt his heart beat picking up as he stared back at the too blue eyes. Before he could stop the image he saw an image of Bruce and his boys, even the angry one who seemed to hate Bruce as much as he loved the family, here on the farm with Ma and Pa. It was chaos and crazy. Damien would be demanding his father let him bring some of the animals home in the entitled way he had. He could see Dick rolling his eyes as Damien snuck a chicken away. Probably with Jason's help because it would annoy Bruce. Bruce would try to pay for the bird. Ma and Pa would deny the money but Bruce would be just as stubborn as his son and be paying far more than stupid bird was worth. They'd have to keep Tim away from the equipment because he would try to make something run better. Dick would be walking beams in the barn. Alfred would be sharing stories with Ma. Pa would be with Tim. And Clark could kiss Bruce. 

It would be perfect.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out Ma." Clark smiled at his mother, giving her cheek a light kiss before going to hug his father then turning to Bruce. "Shall we?"

=-=

Bruce let out a soft moan as Clark's mouth moved along his neck while he backed the other man towards his massive bed. Bruce had his fingers threaded into Clark's hair and held him close. 

"You know, you could have dropped me at the front door?" Bruce sounded breathless and Clark decided he could get lost in the breathless moans. He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement and glanced up to the other's hooded blue eyes. 

"I can go if you want?" Clark offered. He did not consider that the other man might not want him. He thought for sure since the trip to his parents that he was seeing the signs and encouragement for more the other was sending him, but maybe Clark had been wrong.

"No." Bruce said firmly moving his hands to Clark's face with a soft smile. "No I want you right here. I just want you to be sure too. You didn't seem eager to be in my bed when this started."

"Things change." Clark leaned forward and captured the other man's mouth while carefully lowering their bodies to the bed.  Bruce put no resistance to the soft pressure Clark used to push his thighs apart. Clark pulled back and stared down at Bruce, his hand resting on his stomach. Slowly Clark closed his fist around the other man's button down shirt and started pulling it from his pants. Bruce slid his hands down to the red stylized S belt buckle. After clicking the belt open Bruce slid his hands up under Clark’s shirt and started pushing it up to take it off. Clark swallowed when their shirts were off. Clark had assumed Bruce was well built but had not thought about how built he actually was. If Clark did not know better he would think the billionaire did more than sit in an office most days. His own pants were becoming uncomfortably tight.

"Yes, they do." Bruce agreed leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the other man's nipple. Clark groaned at the feel of the other man slowly letting his lips close around his nipple. Clark dropped his gaze to stare back at Bruce while Bruce sucked on his skin. Clark couldn't bruise from such an action but it was obvious that Bruce was going to be putting in an effort to make it appear as if he was going to be bruised. Clark would walk away with his skin unmarked but it would not be for lack of trying. So instead of worrying about it and letting his mind run away with his own thoughts Clark pulled Bruce’s head back and moved his mouth to the other man's neck and began to lightly suck on his neck and bring a darkened bruise to the neck without any effort.

"Fuck." Bruce gasped lifting his hips to meet Clark's as Clark laid him down on the bed. Bruce spread his legs to let Clark begin to slowly grind against him. Bruce knew that he would not leave any marks in his skin but he still slid his nails down Clark’s back as if he could actually leave a mark. Clark moaned in appreciation as his hands moved to open Bruce’s pants and start moving them off the other man before moving to remove his own pants, their shoes thumping to the ground together.

Clark thought it was ridiculous to find the sound comforting, but something about it sounded so domestic to him. Their shoes living together on the ground. Clark moved his mouth back to Bruce's and moaned when he pushed his hips forward again and his cock rubbed against the other man's cock. 

"In the drawer." Bruce gasped as Clark gripped his hips and ground himself against him in turn. "There's lube, in the drawer."

Clark hesitated, there was lube in the side table. Bruce kept lube by his bed. He knew the man could be pleasuring himself, but then he thought of his reputation and that seemed unlikely. Did he really want to become just another notch on Bruce Wayne's bed post.

"Clark?" Bruce's hands lightly touched Clark's cheeks as he lifted his head to meet his eyes. Bruce's blue eyes searched his face and Clark did not know if he found what he was looking for or not. "You can change your mind. It's okay."

Clark considered Bruce's words, this was never part of the plan. He could easily pull away and end this. But that was definitely something he did not want to do. So instead Clark leaned forward, caught Bruce's mouth in another bruising kiss and reached for the lube. Clark was unwilling to release Bruce's mouth as he fumbled with the lube and slowly spread it on his fingers. He slowly pushed his finger into the human. Bruce hissed and arched slightly as the finger entered him Clark froze for a moment before moving his mouth back.

"Alright?" Clark's voice shook.

"Cold." Bruce admitted before rolling his hips back to take the finger deeper. Clark pressed his face into the man's neck before kissing it in apology. He began slowly moving his finger and out of the other. Slowly he carefully added a second finger and Bruce moaned something that sounded far more like pleasure than the sounds he had been making. Clark slowly scissored his fingers in his lover as his own cock twitched in anticipation. 

"For fucks sake, Clark just fuck me already." Bruce gasped as he lifted his hips before thrusting back hard onto the fingers. Clark kissed him again while slowly working his fingers into the billionaire. Clark's own cock throbbed in anticipation but he refrained from thrusting into the other man without preparation. He knew doing so risked harming the human and that was as far from something Clark wanted as he could think of. He wanted this to last. He was reluctant to admit it but he wanted more than the fake relationship they had been grown. His heart beat faster every time he heard the other man talk. He was sure that he was not the only one who felt that the fake relationship was not all that they had. Bruce had agreed to take his children to meet Clark's parents after all.

Clark slowly pulled his fingers out of Bruce and hesitated only a moment before thrusting into the man beneath him with a deep groan.

=-=

"BATMAN!" Clark strained his hearing listening for the dark knight. It had been a simple enough mission for the league, none of them thinking too much on it. Clark had told the league he was planning to end the fake relationship with Bruce and ask the other man if he wanted a real relationship with him. Clark had never been more confident in his decision despite the League not understanding his choice.

Then the call came in.

It was simple extraction.

But then there had been an explosion near Batman's position. The man was not responding to anyone's call. Clark was making his way through the rubble, doing his best to not think the worst. He just wanted to find his team mate and get out. Spotting a dark shape laying unmoving on the ground in a puddle of red, Clark was sure he was going to find a corpse. But then he heard the sound of Batman breathing, saw his chest rising and falling. He landed slowly and carefully rolled the man to his back. Batman moaned in pain and Clark hesitated, the cowl was torn and blood seeped out from beneath the edges. Clark was did not want to invade the other man's privacy. But he had to examine the injury to determine the best course of action. Clark's fingers were gentle as he slowly peeled the cowl off the face.

Clark had super hearing.

Normally he could hear a scream from miles away. But at the moment all he could hear was the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. His entire body was cold and he could not make sense of what he was seeing. He had spent so long studying the face he was cradling in his hands. He swallowed heavily and slowly blinked trying to force his mind to tell him what to do. Clark felt like static filled his head.

Bruce's face crumpled for a moment then a moan of pain left his mouth. His bright blue eyes slowly blinked open and he stared up at Clark's shell shocked face. His blue gaze caught the cowl still dangling in Clark's hand. Clark watched as fear then understanding followed by resignation floated across those eyes Clark had been watching. Eyes he had slowly fallen in love with over the months of their relationship building.

The static in Clark's mind started to clear and became replaced by anger. Batman had pushed him into a relationship with Bruce Wayne. Batman had thought it was a good idea. Because it was his damned idea from the start. Clark had been so sure they had been building a relationship that would rival what their parents had but here he was being shown to be the small town fool played by the big city billionaire. 

"Superman-" Bruce grunted as his head dropped to the ground and a streak of red and blue disappeared into the sky. He closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing. It was inconvenient but he would be fine. Like any other emotions he would just push these ones down. Opening his eyes back up he struggled to bring his wrist up and summon the batmobile to his location. Once inside he set the course for home, struggling to keep his eyes open, knowing Alfred would be furious if he passed out with another concussion. He could only stand letting down one person he cared about a day.

=-=

It was over a week later when Clark made his way to the Wayne manor. Bruce Wayne had not been making any appearances recently, Clark could guess why, and he himself had avoided all Justice League summons. Listening in, because he would not abandon any innocents, but he could not bring himself to face Bruce. He knocked on the door and saw a flash of surprise through Alfred's aged eyes.

"May I assist you?" Alfred tipped his head and stepped aside letting Clark enter the manor.

Clark wanted to run his fingers through his hair, push up glasses he wasn't wearing, but he was in a bright blue suit. And Superman did not fidget. "Is Bruce home?"

Alfred's face flickered through emotions Clark struggled to locate before he finally nodded his head and walked down the hall. "Someone needs to talk some sense into that boy."

Clark tightened his fist around the cowl in his hand. He knew he should just hand it over and leave but he was dying to know why? What had Bruce gained from jerking him around the way he had?

Clark shook his head with a half chuckle when Alfred opened a led lined hidden door to reveal a hidden staircase going down with more led lined walls. Clark offered Alfred a smile and a nod, his mother would never forgive him if he was not polite.

"I didn't think I'd see you."  Bruce did not look away from the computer as he typed. His back was too the stairs and Clark wondered how he even knew he was there.

"I came to return your cowl." Clark stood next to Bruce, glancing down at the human from the corner of his eye while holding out the cowl in his hand. There was another on his desk already. Clark examined the bruised face though he was not quite sure why he was doing it. He reminded himself he was not supposed to care. He should not feel relief at seeing the other man healing.

Bruce nodded his head and stopped typing. "I was going to send this to your email. Let you review it before publishing in the Daily Planet."

Clark hesitated a moment when Bruce scooted away and gestured at the screen. Clark sat the cowl he had been holding down, noting that Bruce still hadn't looked at him and began reading the article. It was clear Bruce did not write articles like this often, Clark found himself re-writing it in his mind as he read through it. He took a deep breath when he reached the end of the article, describing a falling out between Superman and Bruce Wayne. It painted Bruce in a spoiled brat light. Unable to handle dating someone that would go out to save the world when Bruce wanted all  his attention. Ending with a speculation on the billion being with some socialite. 

"So that's it? It's over?" Clark rocked back on his heels. He felt a coil of frustration curling in his stomach as Bruce continued avoiding eye contact.

"I assumed so after nearly two weeks of no contact." Bruce reached up and ran a hand through his hair, flinching when his fingers brushed a still tender bruise. "You've even been avoiding league meetings. I don't know what to make of it Clark."

"Tell me what it was?" Clark wanted to hear from Bruce's own mouth how little he mattered. It hurt when it was his own mind saying it, he knew having Bruce say it would be worse. But Clark was not sure he could move on as quickly if he did not find some kind of closure.

"What it was?" Bruce frowned in confusion, leaning forward and saving the file before setting up an email to send to Clark's work email.

"Yes. Meeting my parents. Introducing me to your kids. The things when the cameras were off." Clark wanted to shake the man who was still not looking at him.

"It was a relationship."

"Why?"

Bruce finally looked at Clark, a confused frown wrinkling his brow. "What?"

"Why was there any relationship beyond," Clark gestured at the computer screen. "What the public got to see?"

Bruce looked away again, his arms folding across his chest defensively. "Because I enjoy your company. Because I thought it was more than an assignment."

Clark would not have heard the words if he had not had super hearing. As it was, he almost missed it anyways. He stared at Bruce, trying to convince his blue eyes to turn back to him through will alone. But the man was not willing to give him even a half glance. He just stared at the wall as if there were answers there that he could not get anywhere else.

So Clark analyzed what he knew.

Playboy Bruce Wayne was confident. Secure in his existence smooth as silk while luring people into his bed. At least according to the papers. That's what the public saw. Batman was confident and one of the best strategists Clark had ever seen. Even Diana was impressed and she had fought the god of war more than once. But in private, Clark had seen a caring father. A man who knew each of his children's individual needs and desires. He thought about the phone call his dad had told him he got after their visit. When Damien and Bruce had talked to Pa about the care of the cow Damien had gotten as a pet.

And then there was this man. Who had written an expose all for him that took the blame for their failed relationship, and was currently waiting for Clark to do something.

'Leave', thought Clark, 'he's waiting for you to leave. Or...'

"Bruce," Clark moved to kneel in front of the human after pushing his chair away. "I'm going to change the article."

Bruce nodded his head, "you're the journalist."

"You didn't leave Superman for some socialite tart." Clark watched the corner of Bruce's lips twitch up when Clark spat the word. "You left him for a little country bumpkin who writes articles for the Daily Planet."

Clark got the pleasure of watching Bruce's eyes widen in surprise. He stood up and leaned over the other man, carefully reaching up to cup his face. He could feel the other's heartbeat pounding beneath his finger tips.

"And is Clark Kent going to expose who it was?"

"Nah, Loise Lane is." Clark's lips hovered over Bruce's lips as they shared breath. "Promise me no more secrets, Bruce."

Bruce was silent for a moment and Clark wondered if he had misread the room. "I should tell you about my Robins then."

[alpinefrsh]

Okay so I'm super excited for the next TomTurtles fic (Love the series its one of my favs) but I'm also interest in the Tommy and LMK crossover you mentioned 👀

Oh, thank you!

ohohoho, okay, well, I'm gonna be honest, I have come up with A LOT of Tommyinnit crossover AU's (mostly between Rise and LMK)- but the one I'm low-key working on in the background rn is a space AU with human Tommy and alien Macaque.

Somewhat lengthy explanation below this cut, you have been warned.

Right now it's in Macaque's POV, but I could easily see it switching to Tommy's POV at some point because I love writing his POV. So, the base premise is Mac's on this middle of nowhere moon to restock on supplies yadda yadda, basic space faring stuff- except when he gets back to his ship, he notices an extra heartbeat, surprise surprise, it's Tommy. Since this is a bit of a humans are space orcs AU, humans have a bit of a rep for being strong and scary and all that, and pretty much anyone but Mac would have been freaked out be the human on their ship- unfortunately for Tommy, Mac is already personally acquainted with two other humans (kind of, Tang is a human in this AU and MK's half human half whatever Monkey alien Mac and SWK are). With that in mind, Mac clocks pretty easily that not only is this human a half starved adolescent, but he also looks like he just stumbled out of a crash site (he did), so he's not too worried about Tommy posing any kind of threat. He fully intends on booting Tommy out of his ship to go try his luck at the outpost- because he doesn't want to babysit a loud human child with a language barrier.

Which- funny additional fact, Macaque actually does know how to speak at least some basic human, the only problem is that the human language he was taught was actually Mandarin. A language Tommy doesn't speak. But back to the actual plot stuff- on his way to kick Tommy out of his ship, there's an unexpected knock. The person outside his ship is Jschlatt, who just so happens to be asking about something he "misplaced" Schlatt's the main antagonist for this fic, he was using Tommy as his scary human to keep subordinates in check, or something else along those lines. So anyway, Tommy recognizes Schlatt's voice and starts quietly freaking out and trying to stop Mac from opening the door. Macaque completely blames MK for his moment of empathy and begrudgingly decides to hide the human to the best of his ability in his tiny ship.

Once Tommy's hidden, Mac lets Schlatt aboard to ask his questions. Although Macaque denies any knowledge of a runaway human quite skillfully, this isn't Schlatt's first rodeo, so he plants a tracker on the ship just in case and has a couple of his men follow at a distance (Maybe Quackity and Slimecicle? Not decided yet)

Because Macaque hid him from Schlatt, Tommy decides that he's staying with the grumpy monkey man, thank you very much.

And since Tommy is a stubborn little bastard, Macaque caves and decides to just deal with it until he can dump the human on Tang and MK whenever he eventually gets to the main gang lives on. Most of the fic is Tom and Macaque struggling to communicate and annoying each other on purpose while the threat of Quackity and Charlie Slimecicle looms unbeknownst to them. Though I do think it'd be fun if like, Tommy started to catch on to the fact that their being followed. Not even a fully conscious realization though, just that general dread of feeling like there's someone watching you, but he can never quite place who it is, and even if he could, he's unable to effectively communicate his concerns to Macaque do to the language barrier that they're very slowly starting to take down. Hmm, on second thought, I think I just want Slimecicle to be following them. He can fuckin' goop and gunk his way around, sludging all over the place and disappearing into the sewers before Tom or Mac can spot him (I'm also moderately more confident in my ability to write Charlie than Quackity)

So yeah, slow build up of all that fun stuff until it all finally comes to a head with Schlatt executing his plan to retrieve Tommy. The whole ending section isn't too fleshed out yet, endings are very much prone to changing on a whim with me. Heavily depends on what the characters decide to do and how different scenes play out in practice. I have no idea if I'll actually finish this fic, it's kind of just a fun thing I work on when I'm in the mood, but I do have a couple of sketches for it.

My attempt to figure out what Macaque's ship is like because I was struggling to write them moving about the space without a pre-established layout of some kind.

While Tommy is in fact sixteen in this fic, drawing Macaque holding a small angry six year old brought me joy, so now you get to see it too.

Ignore the other sketches here, I had to go grab this off my phone and I'm too lazy to crop to just the relevant sketches- but I got both a Tom & Mac, and a Schlatt that I drew with this AU in mind.

Anyway, thank you for asking about one of my AUs, it made me very happy to ramble about it for a little bit. It is, however, past three AM, so I must be taking my leave now. o/

[wily-one24]

What tropes do you like writing best? What fic are you most proud of that you’ve written? What is one piece of advice you would give about writing?

Wow, what great questions @eoangstlover56, thank you.

What tropes do I like writing best?

Hmm, good question. I do like alliteration. A bit of antanaclasis. Similes are always good. Synesthesia and Tautology often pop up in my writing as well.

I do get the feeling that you're asking more about thematic tropes, though... and in that sense...

I tend to enjoy writing the angst. One major theme that has run across my writing is recovery from trauma, specifically (if you are familiar with the Veronica Mars fandom) recovery from rape. But honestly, any trauma will do.

It flows through most of my writing, even those that do not specifically focus on the trauma itself, there is always hints of it, references... more specifically acknowledgement of said trauma in the actions of my characters and how it has shaped them.

You're probably more familiar with my SVU fics, so you wouldn't have seen any other type of fic from me. But even in my smut fics or humour fics, I at least give a nod to what has formed a character.

What fic am I most proud of writing?

Gah. Make me choose between my children, why don't you?

It can't be done!

There are a few that will remain especially dear, for many reasons.

Wicked Game is the most recent, and this is because it was the first time I had written in years. A rather lengthy bout of depression and withdrawal from online space. This was definitely a dip in the pool to see if I could still do it. And it GREW. It became something solid and meaningful. I was honestly sure barely anyone would see and/or like it. Because i was coming in as an unknown to a fairly well established fandom. With what could easily have been a bad and/or unpopular idea. I really like how it turned out, how it circled back on some themes.

Molasses and Taffy from the VM fandom, what started out (and you can see it very clearly) as a very quick post episode short fic... turned into this massive epic that completely blew apart a bunch of emotional themes that should have absolutely been explored in the show, but were not. Something that bridges us from the devastation of the rooftop at the end of Season Two, to the happy twirling in the hallway. Delving deep into the actual trauma and facing it by writing several devastated teenagers stuck in a room with a really unwise amount of alcohol. And LETTING THE SHIT HIT THE FAN.

It was awesome.

The ever controversial Paint It Black. from Once Upon a Time.. this fic will remain high on my list of faves, for being there at a state when I really began to embrace my sexuality (despte the hatred I got for it) and play in the f/f sandbox. Plus, (and let's all be surprised here), DARK. Again, a fic that started off with a very bad idea, that while exploring the darkness in the bad idea... really began to examine the characters and what made them who they are and how they react to stress. Take one (almost?) Evil Queen and have her take the hero (ish?) as an unwilling slave? But then let's get those stubborn people who like to ignore their feelings to actually be forced to face up to them and what it means about them and how their pasts have shaped who they are.

Whether or not people like these fics, that's up to them. These are fics that *I* like.

One piece of advice I would give about writing?

To actually do it.

It sounds simple and obvious, but it's true. You cannot know what will come out until you just start writing. The pictures are very pretty in your head and the story complete, but it's not doing anyone any good if you don't share it.

Also, as shown in the three fics mentioned above, but also in a lot of my fics... it starts out as an idea, maybe even one scene or theme that you want to explore and the writing makes you consider so many different aspects... just... really get in there and look at it from all angles.

So start writing, keep writing, write it bad, write it cringe, but write it. Read over it. Change a few things. Leave it. Come back to it. Get those thoughts out. Shine them up. Let your brain run free.

And things will begin to take shape.

[disdaidal]

by the way i wanted to stop by and tell u that i feel you very much re: your writing struggles and dilemmas!!! like it's so frustrating having so many thoughts and ideas and plots and headcanons etc and feeling like it's physically impossible to get down into words! and it sucks that it's so clearly and easily visualised in our head and yet when we attempt to put words onto paper/document it's like. this is a Mess.

but also literally every time i start criticising my own work these days i try and pull myself back and be like this is literally for me and when i don't put pressure on myself to try and have it perfect and ao3's greatest hits worthy then i usually end up having a blast typing out all my lil funky fic things and it's fun again. and then i wanna share it with a friend and i realise it's not coherent enough for that then it sucks again. then i tell myself its for FUN and it's a vicious cycle lmao

ANYWAY all that to say i hear you wholeheartedly and i think whatever you've managed to write is amazing and every little fic and au you've ever thought is probably incredible and i hope u always know that ❤️🫶🏻

Aaaand two days later~ 🙈

I already started writing a lengthy answer back to you, but then Tumblr decided to be a fucking 🍆 once again and deleted everything, so. 🤪

Anyway, I wholeheartedly agree with everything you said here. Having all these ideas, all these tropes and AUs, all those scenes and dialogues circulating in your brain and yet you feel like it's not good enough—definitely not good enough for publishing. You keep telling that to yourself: it's not good enough, it will never be good enough, you'll never be one of those popular writers who write these total bangers one after another, so why bother, right?

But I also wholeheartedly agree with that statement that you should primarily write for yourself. I also had a lot of fun recently writing something on my docs that I still haven't fully published on ao3 or anywhere else, and I gotta say, I kept rereading that work over and over again because that one I truly wrote it for myself. Like, it felt so good to be self-indulgent for a change (I honestly can't recall the last time I've genuinely enjoyed reading my own writing before that, which is very telling I think), and when I suddenly experienced that feeling—that pure joy—once again... That feeling was so euphoric.

Like, what even is the point of writing anything if it feels like nothing but pain and misery all the fucking time? 🙈 It should be fun and self-indulgent. Most of the time, at least. It's really fucking hard for sure, but it still should be fun.

Anyway, I'm rambling again here, so, thanks so much for this ask and your words of encouragement. Made me feel a little bit better again. <3 I also want to say that whatever you're currently writing, even just daydreaming about, I genuinely hope you're having a blast at it. And if you ever decide to publish/share any of those stories of yours, I'm 100% there are people out there who are ready to kiss your feet just for writing that story and sharing with them. I certainly feel that way about certain stories, even authors, so. Who knows, maybe our stories could have the same kind impact on other people, too.

Gotta stay positive and just... goddamn write. Right? :D

[dollygirl808]

This is just a lil excerpt from the first chapter of a story I'm writing rn, called A Monster Ensemble. It's not out anywhere yet or anything, just wanted to share.

It's not anywhere near to being done yet, but. Yeah. I liked the kinda yandere vibes Bear (horror sans) was giving in this, so I wanted to share it. I may or may not have been influenced by a song I discovered recently that I love called the red means I love you, it's honestly so good and I love yandere vibe songs and yandere vibes in general.

(Lowkey wanna write a song fic but it's in the am's and I was supposed to go to sleep hours ago)

While the story isn't planned on being yandere, Bear will def have massive stalker/obsession vibes. But everyone else not as much, probably.

I adore yandere bois so much so it'll probably leak through more than I intend to. And Bear is super duper capable of killing ppl, and of course has, given his past.

And, do I have a size thing? Maybe.. he's only like. 10ft tall. And I only mention it like no less than 10,000 times.

Okie enjoy <3

Bear watched his tiny bunny from the other isle, his massive hulking frame easily seeing over the shelves even with his more hunched posture, his one good eyelight trained on her like, well, a predator.

That's what he was, wasn't he? A killer at his core, a vicious monster who could easily rip her flesh right from her bones, then break said bones with only two fingers. The tip of his lengthy bone tail twitched in aggravation at the thought, he didn't want to hurt anybody, especially not her.

His soulbond.

He was glad his brother wasn't here to chastise him for watching the girl from across the store like a creeper, because he really, really couldn't help it. She just looked so soft and fragile all the time.

Her little brown tail, a little heart-shaped fluff against the top of her ass, so small and cute. Above what was, of course, his favorite part of her squishy body; her rather round and thick thighs.

They squished together and against eachother as she adjusted her standing position, one leg barely lifting off the ground to tap her foot against the floor as she thought, the rapid motion making her plush thigh jiggle.

His slit-like pupil zeroed in on the movement for a moment, before his eyelight wandered the exposed length of her thighs and legs, racking over every curve of of flesh like he didn't see her in her work uniform often.

A light grey pair of denim overalls that hugged the curves of her ass and thighs perfectly, and was starting to fray in between her thick thighs.

Sometimes he wondered how her tiny fragile bones didn't collapse under her own weight.

Human bones just so small compared to his own, after all, and even though he was a twisted, corrupted version of his smaller self, even their bones were thicker and sturdier than humans.

Which of course, was an opinion he would never dare voice.

Eve was sensitive about her weight, after all. Which, he didn't really understand himself. What could be bad about having a lot to eat? It's a sentiment all of his clan had, a shared confusion at human's want to eat less and diet when they had access to all of the food.

Heh. Humans were weird like that.

One day, He thought, I'll be catching prey for you, my bonded. And Paps'll cook it, and she'll eat it, and he'll be the happiest monster on the earth, surface or otherwise.

He smiled lopsidedly, single hot-red eyelight going fuzzy and his cat-like slit of a pupil engorging until there was nothing but a ring of red on the outskirts of his love-strucken socket as he watched his little bunny fus over how many pots to buy for her future catnip plants.

Stars, she was so cute when she was trying to make a decision on something so impossibly mundane like it was the single-most important decision in her life, he could feel his cracked soul flutter happily, and call to her without meaning to.

And that's when she turned around, cute little eyebrows pinched in confusion at the tugging she felt in her chest (from her soul, but she didn't know that yet,) And her vibrant bubblegum pink eyes met his single eyelight, which immediately snapped back to its normal slit-like state.

He straightened his spine, head and shoulders rising above the top of the 7ft shelf, and her eyes followed, watching him dwarf the shelf with his massive 10ft frame with what could only be described as morbid fascinating.

She smiled warmly at him, welcomingly. And a twinkle of something more caught his attention in her expression. Something Bear easily recognized as lust.

Even if it was just a small amount of misplaced curiosity, whenever he displayed or did something to accentuate his overwhelming height and mass, she always got this look of want across her cute rounded features.

Like she was thinking about climbing him like a jungle gym, and that look pleased him greatly, so he made sure to stand tall and loom over her whenever possible.

So, maybe the bunny had a bit of a size kink? Little prey, lusting after a monster like him. It made him chuckle silently to himself.

Like a mouse watching a bear, the mouse couldn't possibly understand the danger she was in, and because a bear would never bother chasing after or catching prey as un-filling as a mouse, the mouse had no instincts to run. And the bear simply wouldn't be bothered by it just sitting there, as completely non-threatening and miniscule as it was.

Of course, this particular Bear had great interest in catching the little prey that was too caught up in his unsual and rare appearance to be fearful, and he would take great pleasure in playing a game of cat and mouse, chase her like prey, and when he caught her, he'd absolutely devour her without hesitation-

"Hey, Bear! Getting more plants for your garden of eden?" Eve asked with a teasing smile, and he blinked a few times as he processed her question.

"Yeah," Was all he managed to force out, but she didn't mind, and she just smiled bigger at him, her eyes nearly closing from the sheer intensity of it.

It made his soul flutter again, and also call out to her again, stronger this time. She made no outwardly acknowledgment of the feeling, aside from her left ear and her nose twitching at the same time.

Which, he found absolutely adorable and his pupil started to swell again with mirth, before shrinking back. "What.. ya doing?" Bear asked, as If he hadn't been stalking watching her for the past 30 minutes.

"Oh, I'm trying to decide how many pots will fit on my windowsill." She said, thumbing behind her to the brownish-tan pots on the top shelf.

Which were well out of her reach, and he thought about how he could offer to get them for her, and she'd be very thankful. His eyelight glowed momentarily with excitement at the thought.

So, he started walking to her isle, long, thick legs bent at impossibly inhuman angles making quick work to get rid of the distance.

Legs that were apparently 'digitigrade,' she had once told him when he asked if his appearance really didn't bother her.

"What? Of course not, Bear!" She had balked, tone offended, almost angrily so, as if she could ever thing something so horrible. "You look fine! I think having a super long, prehensile tail is pretty damn cool. And your legs are like, digitigrade! And your clawed feet remind me of a dragons, which are super duper cool, by the way."

That really wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "Pretty damn cool" was not an sentence he would have ever used to describe himself before that. But it made him so happy at the time.

"Heh... think so?" He had asked, tusks stretched wide in a pleased grin, eyelight trained on her so intensely it made her little bunny-heart race, and she had pouted at him and asked if he was just fishing for compliments.

He wasn't, but the angry stomp and huff she let out was too adorable to correct, so he agreed.

If he could still teleport at will, he probably wouldn't bother walking so he could be close to her sooner. But alas, he had lost that ability due to the incident, or more specifically, the massive hole in his skull.

Eve turned and contemplated the pots again, brown fluffy ears rotated fully forward in pure concentration.

Bear stopped next to her, body facing the isle, but eyelight watching her think. His tail came to wrap loosely around her boot-covered ankle, something he did often, and she didn't even spare him and ear twitch in his direction.

So, unafraid. A pleased smirk tugged at the sides of his tusked mouth, watching her be so comfortable next to him that she didn't even twitch at him wrapping her ankle up in his deceptively strong tail.

Stars, if he could be any happier his soul would probably leap from his chest and try to enter hers. He wondered if she would accept that.

"Three," Bear said simply, grufly, his deeper-than-normal voice a product of his harsh time underground. Just another corrupted deviation from the original Sans that made him so...

"You think?" Eve asked, looking up at him as her ears relaxed more to the side and her head tilted ever-so slightly to the side as well.

He only nodded, already reaching above her head to grab three of the pots and hand them off to his tail, gently curling into and around the small plant plots before setting them on the bottom shelf of her cart.

She huffed out an air of amusement from her nose, rolling her eyes, trying and failing to suppress her smile.

"Thank you, Bear," Eve said genuinely, setting a small hand on his radius, one of the two thick bones that made up his 'forearm.'

"No," He paused for longer than he ment, brain suddenly forgetting the word, but she didn't frown at him, or try to rush or finish his sentence for him, just waited and looked up at him with that gentle, patient smile is that nearly made him forget what he wanted to say.

"No, problem," Bear finished after a moment of staring at her face.

"Well, that's the last thing I needed. What are you shopping for? I could help you. Although, I dont know how helpful I could be given my apparent Black thumb," Eve rambled a little, and he couldn't help but find that adorable as well.

"Flowers," He told her, and she nodded.

"Something colorful for spring?" She offered, and he nodded, "Want me to walk with you?"

"Please," He said, and offered his arm, which she took without hesitation.

He smiled, and his tail let go of her to wave behind him happily as he grabbed the cart's handle with both of his massive hands, taking up all of the bar space.

So she was left to fiddle with the edges of her overalls pant leg while her other hand wrapped around Bear's blue jacket sleeve and they walked side-by-side, mostly silent.

Eve would occasionally make a comment about a particularly vibrant or pretty flower, and he would just nod along, or grab it and put it in his own cart, which he tugged behind him with his tail.

She tried to take her cart back a few times, but he just stood still while she tried to muscle her way, or pry his sharp claws off the bar, with zero luck.

She gave up after a few times and let him pull and push both carts, but made sure to express she could handle her own cart.

Bear bent down to grab the largest size of garden soil they had, a massive bag the size of Eve's chest. He picked it up with one hand, setting it in his cart without trouble.

The bunny tried not to gape at his strength too much, but she probably wouldn't even be able to pick up something that heavy, and he did it easily, single-handedly. It was hard not to be impressed.

"So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?" She asked, turning to face him as her free hand continued stroking the petals of a particularly soft plant.

"Looking for pretty," He said while staring down at her so intensely it made her look away.

He had to be doing that on purpose, right?! Neck bent completely so his skull was parallel to the top of her head, and he was looming over her, literally blocking out the bright lights above them and casting her face in a shadow as she tilted her own head fully back to look up at him.

It wasn't threatening in any way, but, fuck, it was really, stupidly hot. Did Bear even have the ability to think about doing something like that? Or was his habit of staring at her silently, so intensely her face flushed, because of his injury? He stared, seemingly expressionless to onlookers but she had gotten used to his subtle body language.

Most of it was with his eyelight and his tail, anyways. His tail would wave back and forth when he was happy, and sometimes even thump on the ground, bump into things or knock things onto the ground. The tip would twitch when he was mildly annoyed, and his entire tail would lash back and forth in a whip-like motion when he was pissed, which wasn't often.

His general cat-like slit in the center of his white-to-red gradient eyelight would grow rounded when he was particularly happy or content, or he saw something he really liked, like after a meal, or when she did something he found particularly cute. It would shrink to be skinnier and longer when he was angry, and it would become football shaped when he was concentrating, get shorter and rounder.

"A-are you looking for a particular color, Bear? Like blues, purples, pinks?" Eve asked, stuttering only a little at the beginning.

The monster stopped leaning over her, sitting back further and making himself a little smaller. "Pink. Pretty pink." He said simply.

"Pink is a great springtime color!" She squeaked out, and tried not to think about how he was grabbing lots of flowers with petals that matched the shade of pink in her eyes. It was just a coincidence, pink was a spring color, after all.

[thepirateandhisson]

Once Upon A Mamma Mia Masterpost

Once upon a time, I half-jokingly made this post about an idea for a Captain Swan/Mamma Mia AU. And then I proceeded to write the first chapter hours later and it spiraled from there.

Anyway, this is a masterpost for links to each chapter of the fic, as I have finally completed it! This is my first ever completed multi-chapter story and I’m really proud of that fact. It was my first true venture into writing again after years away from it so I really enjoyed getting to work my creative muscles in this way after a lengthy absence.

If you’ve read this story, I hope you enjoyed it! If you haven’t, I hope you may give it a go one day! Once Upon A Mamma Mia

Chapter One: Honey, Honey (AO3)

It makes sense that, after finding Emma, Henry would start to have questions about his dad. If only they were easy to answer...

With Emma's silence on the matter, Henry takes things into his own hands and invites the three men from her past to his birthday party, determined to figure out which one is his father.

Chapter Two: Knowing Me, Knowing You - Part One (AO3)

A glimpse of three strangers in Storybrooke causes Emma to begin a trip down memory lane...

Chapter Three: Knowing Me, Knowing You - Part Two (AO3)

Nothing terrified Emma Swan more than the knowledge that if she took down the walls that so tightly guarded herself, she would willingly hand her heart over to Killian Jones.

Chapter Four: The Name of the Game (AO3)

With his potential fathers showing up in Storybrooke, Henry needs to figure out a way to identify which one is his real dad.

Chapter Five: Does Your Mother Know? (AO3)

Emma still isn't sure why her past has decided to visit her now, and all at the same time, but she's determined to get to the bottom of it. Meanwhile, Henry's determined to get to know his potential fathers.

Chapter Six: I Have A Dream (AO3)

Emma reunites with an old friend, Henry finally meets everyone in Operation Papa Bear, and chaos bubbles under the surface.

Chapter Seven: SOS (AO3)

Emma has to deal with the aftermath of Henry's stunt in Granny's, even if it means promising another meeting with the three ghosts of her past. But first, she needed to ground this kid.

Chapter Eight: Mamma Mia - Part One (AO3)

Much like Emma, Henry doesn't listen. No one else seems to want to find out but he needs to know who his father is.

OUTTAKE: the best things in life, the very best things, happen unexpectedly (AO3)

It's been ten years since they spent the night together on Halloween. But now he's back in her life and, despite the mess that's going on with Henry having three possible fathers, she can't stay away from him. Killian Jones was not a man that a woman could easily forget. [Rated M]

Chapter Nine: Mamma Mia - Part Two (AO3)

Dealing with Neal in the midst of a bar fight as Tiffany’s ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ blasted through the speakers is not how Killian thought this day would go.

Chapter Ten: The Winner Takes It All (AO3)

Killian is making Emma feel better after Neal's antics but the guilt is weighing heavily in his gut. He has to tell her, even if it means losing her.

Chapter Eleven: Waterloo (AO3)

Oh yeah, Henry needs to get ready and Neal needs to be dealt with, but Emma can definitely do all of that before the graduation ceremony later that morning.

Chapter Twelve: Slipping Through My Fingers (AO3)

Henry was going to find out the results of the paternity test no matter what. He just hopes he likes what it reveals.

Chapter Thirteen: Thank You For The Music (AO3)

All adults want to do is talk and maybe all Henry wants to do is wish he never started this.

[football-and-fanfics]

The injury - Alisson Becker

Who: Alisson Becker Request: could you write an injury fic for Alisson and Virgil comforting him and mabye a bit of Kloppo? Write it when the injury happens if possible. Requested by: @alissonbecksfan234 Warnings: mentions of injury

This was very not good, Alisson knew that much almost immediately. When he dived in training today to make a save, his hand doubled over upon landing, putting too much strain on his wrist. He instantly felt a searing, white-hot pain to the joint. Crying out in pain, Alisson remained on the ground. The pain was so intense that black spots clouded his vision for a moment. He sat up, holding his injured arm carefully in his lap and supported by his other hand. Even the slightest of movements of his wrist sent a fresh wave of blinding pain through it, so he tried to move as little as possible as he sat on the goal line. The whole team immediately knew this was no simple knock, and Virgil rushed over to Alisson. "Ali, what's wrong?" Virgil dropped to his knees beside the goalkeeper. "Wrist... wrist..." Alisson whimpered. Tears of pain welled up in his eyes, and he felt himself start to tremble. "Okay, take it easy, mate." Virgil tried to calm his teammate down a bit, but could easily see that Alisson was in real pain. "What happened?! Is he alright?!" Klopp pushed through the team who had all gathered around Alisson. But the coach needed only one look at his goalkeeper, sitting on the grass, trembling slightly in pain and cradling his injured arm, that he was in no way alright. "I--it feels like I broke my wrist," Alisson whimpered softly. Klopp knelt down in front of Alisson, switching to a calm, fatherly tone. "You'll be okay. Someone's already run inside to fetch one of the medics." Alisson blew out a shaky breath. "It hurts..." He raised a gloved hand to his face, for the intense pain caused him to see stars and he felt slightly lightheaded. His breath caught high in his throat at this frightening feeling and a fear of actually collapsing. Virgil realized what was happening, and immediately positioned himself behind Alisson. He placed his hands on the goalkeeper's sides to steady him. He feared Alisson might faint, and like this Virgil would at least be able to catch him if he indeed went down. "Breathe, Ali, breathe." Virgil tried to calm Alisson down some more. "We don't need you going down." Virgil felt the deep breaths Alisson indeed took beneath his hands still resting on the goalkeeper's sides. "That's it, mate. You good?" Alisson nodded slowly after a little while. "I'm alright." "Don't faint on me after all." Virgil carefully made the joking sneer. Alisson chuckled ever so slightly. "I won't." Alisson now looked up at Klopp still kneeling in front of him. "This really doesn't feel good, boss. I'm afraid I'll be missing some matches." He looked very affected by the mere thought of not being able to play. "Don't worry about that now." Klopp rested a comforting hand on Alisson's shoulder. "Let's see how bad it is first, and we'll take it from there." Alisson nodded slowly, comforted by the support of his coach and teammate, but he was still devastated by this seemingly lengthy injury. From the corner of his eye, Klopp could see two medics running in their direction. "I mean it, Ali," Klopp insisted, "I know you hate missing matches, but you have to take all the time you need to recover." "I will," Alisson agreed somewhat reluctantly. Klopp gave Alisson's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "You know you're our number one, right? No matter what." Even though he was still in considerable pain, a careful smile crept up on Alisson's face. "Thanks, boss."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001 Liverpool tags: @berrydoughnuttruth PL tags: @ella33 Add me to the tags list, too! For more of my Alisson imagines, click here

[omg-imagine]

Distraction

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: Johnny distracts V the best way he knows how.

Words:��3.1k

Warnings: language, smut (oral + rough sex, choking)

A/N: Please don’t mind the weak plot, this was just an excuse to write p*rn featuring the only character I want to romance in the game but can’t. Also, for the sake of this fic, let’s just say he can touch V and vice versa :)) Hope you enjoy!

V was pissed.

No, she was beyond pissed.

And when V’s beyond pissed, she’s sure to let the whole fucking world know.

“Tone it down, princess,” Johnny cuts in once he’s heard enough of her long-winded rant.

V stops her relentless pacing around the apartment and shoots a menacing glare towards the rocker.

“I warned you not to take that job from the start. Now, look at you, bruised up from head to toe, and cheated out of your eddies.”

“That son of a bitch promised me half the cut,” V recalls bitterly, her chest heaving from the fierce anger spreading all throughout. “I’m gonna make sure Cruz regrets asking me for help.”

The merc stalks off to her stash, muttering low under her breath how she plans on raising hell the next time she crosses paths with him. As V polishes her guns (something she typically does to calm herself), Johnny approaches the small room to the side with the same cocky attitude that would surely piss her off even more.

He can’t help himself at times; he sure does love pushing V’s buttons.

“You done whining or what?”

Rolling her eyes, V turns her head to see Johnny standing there as he takes a drag on his cigarette. Normally, she doesn’t mind him smoking around her, but after an exhausting night where things didn’t work out in her favor, she was quickly reaching her boiling point. “You better clean up all that ash on the floor when you’re done.”

“Since when did you start caring about this shithole of an apartment being neat?” Johnny comments, more so as a tease, and this earns him another scowl. “Don’t waste your energy on Cruz. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Didn’t know you believed in karma,” V adds, narrowing her eyes.

Devilishly, he smirks at her, tossing the cigarette butt to the floor then crushing it with his shoe. “Hon, there’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me.”

“Yeah,” she agrees before brushing past Johnny. “I’m heading out.”

His figure glitches momentarily, reminding V that he was nothing but a ghost residing in her mind, despite how real he feels. Even if she wants to leave this “shithole of an apartment” for some semblance of peace and quiet, she knows Johnny will only follow. He’s tethered to her for what could possibly be the rest of her life.

And yet, no matter how big of an asshole Silverhand was, she’s grown fond of his presence.

Not that she would mention it out loud. Ever.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” V simply states, wondering what the point in Johnny asking her that question when he could easily find it out for himself was.

It’s truly unfair how he can read her thoughts, but she can’t read any of his.

He chuckles low. “Gon’ pay a joy toy to fuck tonight?”

“No, I’m going out for a drive, distract myself from that shitshow earlier. You better leave me alone.”

“Well, I’m a little insulted,” Johnny snorts, feigning offense. “I thought you liked my company.”

“I’m tired of your company. You never shut that mouth of yours.”

Before V could head to the door, she feels a metal hand encircling her wrist, holding her in place. She glances behind her, meeting Johnny’s deep, dark eyes, which hid a multitude of secrets. It’s been a while since she has felt a touch that wasn’t full of malice. Though his palm is cold from the material it’s made out of, a distinct heat spreads through her body—

It was a familiar warmth, one that radiates from V at his mere touch.

And when Johnny’s lips curl into a shit-eating grin, she knows that he has sensed it too.

“Shut my mouth? I think I can do something else much better than that.”

Johnny’s gravelly voice fuels the desire burning deep within V as he pulls her closer, her feet moving at their own accord. “God, I wish you came with an off-switch.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this little game we’ve been playing.”

V doesn’t respond, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She lets out a shuddering moan when Johnny leans in, his hot breath grazing her silky skin before his lips crash against hers, possessively. He floods V’s senses all at once as he hungrily kisses her, letting him take the reins.

It would be a lie for V to say she’s never pictured a moment like this. A moment where she finally succumbs to Johnny’s charm and allows him to lay claim on her. It’s always been a constant dance between the two, a chemistry disguised as indifference, a craving left unspoken. Amidst the degrading insults and the snarky attitudes, deep down, they have always wanted the same thing—

To fuck each other’s brains out.

“Still tired of my company, V?”

“Just shut the fuck up for once and take off your pants.”

The grin on his face hasn’t disappeared. It only grows broader. “Ask, and you shall receive.”

Johnny roughly grabs V at the waist, his fingers curling underneath the hem of her shirt as he pushes her towards the bed. His mouth latches onto her neck, no doubt marking her for all of Night City to see.

They fell onto the mattress without finesse, similar to how V kisses Johnny feverishly, all tongue and teeth. Void of tenderness and only driven by the urgency of lust. She was too distracted by her want to care for the taste of tobacco from his last smoke. The hands traveling every inch of V’s frame lights up a fire in her, bringing a high that no drug on the black market could ever do.

Surprisingly, Johnny allows her to take the lead for a bit when she straddles him, his hardening cock pressing up against her aching cunt. She gages his reaction as she grinds on his clothed erection, a wicked smile forming to the sight of him being teased.

“You like that, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to have you inside of me.” She feels herself growing wetter and wetter, losing patience just as swiftly as the man under her.

Without warning, Johnny flips them both over, the length of his body now pressed against hers from above. He wastes no time peeling V’s shirt and bra off, pausing for the briefest of seconds to admire her bare breasts. His cybernetic hand squeezes one soft mound as his lips descend on the other. She moans, and they were pure music to his ears, sounds that were so beautiful he could write endless songs about them.

“J-Johnny,” V stutters out his name, unable to contain herself anymore. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has quickly reduced her into a mess, and desperately she wanted, needed more.

The way his name trembles from her mouth drives Johnny into a frenzy, simpering at the fact he really hasn’t done much yet, but it was enough to leave V quivering. She looks too sinful beneath Johnny, too delectable. He’s well-aware of how long she’s gone without sex, and he’s now bent on ending that sad streak of hers.

Hastily, Johnny removes V’s pants and underwear in one quick go, his gaze devouring her beauty like a starved man staring at his meal. “Wow, you’re fucking drenched down there.”

“Fuck,” she gasps, one hand reaching forward to grip at his lengthy locks as soon as he delves in to taste her dripping nectar for the first time.

“You enjoying yourself there, baby?” Johnny’s inquiry needs no response. He could already tell she is solely by the way her eyes flutter shut, her head lolling to the side.

One lick. Two licks. Three. He surely knew how to work that deft tongue of his.

Johnny’s cock continues to throb in the confines of his trousers as his lips encircle V’s swollen bud, but he doesn’t end there. She wants more, and he’s willing to give her just that.

More.

V squirms when two chrome fingers enter her heat, stretching out her walls to prepare her for the serious pounding coming up. She’s lost in the sensations, unable to form a coherent thought or word. Johnny’s tempo was slow at first; tantalizing, nearly torturous. But once he starts moving faster, pumping even harder and reaching that sweet, sweet spot of hers, she begins to pant wildly as she fucks herself on his hand to get more friction.

“Holy shit, you’re a goddess,” he croaks after pulling back to study the needy woman looking back at him through half-lidded eyes. V is tight around his fingers, and he could only imagine how it would be like with his cock buried deep inside her instead.

Each rough stroke of Johnny’s digits against her wet walls brought V closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, her moans increasing in both volume and frequency. He urges her to let go, whispering into her ear how he wants to see and feel her coming. The gruffness in his tone turned her on even more, and V soon finds herself falling over the precipice, flushing hot with euphoria as Johnny watches, awestruck.

Satisfied, he beams at his work, which was only half of what he intends to do this evening. Being gracious, Johnny gives V an ample minute to recover, using the downtime to wipe the glistening wetness coating his beard before tasting the juices he’s collected.

Delicious, he thinks. She tastes as good as she looks.

V eventually comes back to her senses, propping herself up on her elbows as she gazes at Johnny with an almost dazed expression. “Perhaps the rumors are actually true.”

“Which one?” Silverhand asks, ridding himself of his clothes at the foot of her bed.

V pauses prior to answering, the sound of metal clinking filling the air as he unbuckles his belt, stripping off his leather pants afterwards.

“That you’re the best pussy eater in town,” she then reveals, glancing up briefly to see the smug look on his face before her gaze falls to his groin again.

Of course, Johnny chooses to go commando, and no, she wasn’t shocked at all.  

Silently, she marvels at the dick nestled in a thick bush of dark hair. Girthy and long with a slight curve upwards, the thought of it being inside her, barely fitting, made her mouth water. He wasn’t lying when he casually mentioned having an impressive cock.

It definitely did not disappoint.

“Oh sweetheart, that was nothing,” Johnny declares before climbing back on top of V, settling in between her legs. “The main act is just beginning.”

She doesn’t wait for Johnny to kiss her. In an instant, V’s lips were on his, her tongue pushing into his mouth, faintly tasting herself at the same time. Meanwhile, Johnny grips the base of his leaking cock, rubbing its engorged head against her slick folds that had her breathing heavily. V cants her hips impatiently, and through their kiss, he chuckles at her eagerness.

“So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” Johnny husks mockingly. “How badly do you want me, slut? I wanna hear you say it.”

A moan escapes her throat at his words as he rubs his tip against her clit. V wants him so, so bad that she’s begging incessantly, something she never does in any of her past fucks. Usually, she was in complete control, never the one to relinquish her power.

Maybe that was the reason why V was utterly drunk with pleasure from this steamy session with Johnny. It’s good not to be in control for once.

“Shit, Johnny. Please, just fuck me already. Fill me up,” V pleads, now helpless at this point. She has to come again, this time around his cock. She repeats her keening over and over again, hoping that it was enough to feed into Johnny’s ego and finally show her mercy.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Tugging at his cock, Johnny forces V’s legs to spread wider as she waits for him, mesmerized. Her pussy was soaked from his ministrations, but when he starts pushing into V, the burning stretch of her walls trying to accommodate his thick length leaves her in tears.

Those tears, however, weren’t entirely from the pain. V was also shedding tears because of how full Johnny makes her feel.

“Fucking hell, V,” he groans as she clamps down on him. “You’re so fucking tight. Damn, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“We were too busy pretending to hate each other,” V replies, digging her nails into Johnny’s back when he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow but rough— as if he’s getting accustomed to the wondrous feeling of being inside of V. It doesn’t last long, though. Johnny has always been a hard and fast kind of guy, the one that does two or three more rounds before passing out. He’s bragged about his amazing stamina as well, and despite V believing she could match it, she probably won’t be able to tonight.

Not when he’s fucking her into the mattress like this for their very first time together.

Johnny’s brutal pace doesn’t falter. He pounds into V harder, faster, rougher; as if his life depends on it, the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh bouncing off every corner of the room. His slick pre-come mixes with her honeyed essence, allowing him to seamlessly reach the depths of her center. Sweat drips down the side of his face as he maneuvers his mechanical hand to wrap around V’s delicate neck, adding pressure when she doesn’t resist.

“That’s it, baby,” Johnny growls next to her ear, rolling his hips as he squeezes her throat tighter. “You’re making me feel so good. I’ve always known you were a dirty whore.”

V’s gasping and thrashing, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She loves the rush of blood through her head far too much, especially with Johnny slamming harshly into her. It gives her a thrill she has never experienced with anyone else. Pretty sure he’s ruining her for others.

But whether this was part of his intentions or not, V doesn’t know. Nor she cares enough to figure it out.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, V. Look at you, taking all of my cock like the fucking slut you are. You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? You practically dream about me every night, and don’t you deny it.”

She doesn’t. Johnny was right, though it doesn’t really matter at this very second. His hold on V loosens for her to speak, and she inhales as much air her lungs could possibly take. She could feel it again, the ultimate high she’s been chasing once more. Johnny’s shaft dragging against her pulsing walls brings her even closer to it, building up the pleasure rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I-I’m close,” V warns, the pressure inside her threatening to break free. “Shit, Johnny, I’m gonna come soon.”

Johnny’s hips jerked harder, causing V to cry out. “Yeah? You’re gonna come? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure you come on my cock.”

Halting, he drapes her left leg over his shoulder, allowing him to slide in deeper than he has before. Johnny then pushes his metallic thumb into V’s mouth, and without prompt, she swirls her tongue around it, coating it with her saliva. Not missing a beat, his movement resumes, all bruising and all punishing. He brings his wetted finger on her sensitive pearl, stroking it as if he’s playing his guitar on stage.

The change in angle proves to be the final straw for V, who’s litany of high-pitch moans spurs Johnny to fuck her even more forcefully. Again and again, she takes everything he gives her, and in turn, she encourages him to follow her into the abyss. Her pussy caresses his cock with every frantic push and pull, and she notices how he’s gradually picking up speed, losing his rhythm in the process.

“Your cunt belongs to mine now,” Johnny mutters, gritting his teeth, and it’s becoming clear to V that he’s holding back just for her. “Come on, V. Let go, let go for me.”

Lust-blown eyes lock with V’s own, wordlessly urging her one last time to come undone. Several sharp thrusts later, she finds herself clenching around Johnny’s cock, her orgasm shooting through her like a rain of bullets. Unabashedly, V shouts as her vision whitens, intense waves of ecstasy washing over her shaking body. She’s too absorbed in bliss to realize right away that Johnny was still in her, dick hard and ready for a similar release.

Once she finds her bearings, V grinds her hips against Johnny’s, and immediately, his nails dig into her as he begins to move inside her yet again.

“Don’t stop, Johnny,” she purrs, watching him fuck her with both fast and long strokes. “I want you to cum deep inside me, baby. Shit, I want it so badly. Please, give it to me. Please…”

With a strained moan, Johnny suddenly climaxes, snarling as he shoots searing ropes of his thick, creamy cum into V, painting her inner walls with white. His features contort with pleasure as he throws his head back, his breathing shallow and ragged. When his heart rate returns somewhat back to normal, he slowly pulls his softening cock out, smirking at the sight of his load dripping out of her.

Afterwards, he flops down beside V with a huff, joining her as she stares blankly up at the ceiling. Johnny clears his throat as he shifts closer to V, who instinctively rests her head on his chest. His cyber arm curls around her, and she sighs deeply, seemingly content.

“How about that for a fucking distraction?” He says, recalling how the two of them got here in the place. “Don’t even have to go on a ride to clear your mind. Feel free to ride me instead.”

V laughs at his jest. “It was a great fuck, the best one I’ve ever had if I’m honest. But I’m still going after Cruz.”

Johnny hums in response, seeing V’s weary eyes growing heavier. “Fine, but just to let you know, what happened between us isn’t a one-time thing.”

“Fuck, I hope not. You’re stuck with me till the end of the world, buddy.”

“It’s a good thing you have an amazing pussy then.”

V smacks him lightly as exhaustion begins to take over. Sure, she was still pissed she didn’t get her eddies, but at least now she knows the prick named Johnny Silverhand was surprisingly a cuddler.

And that piece of information was worth gold.

Permanent Tags:   @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein​ @unaspiringwritings​ @planetkt​ @breakthenight​ @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

[ficsnroses]

𝑯𝒊𝒔 - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

johnny silverhand x fem! V [reader]. 

summary : johnny and you both want this, a physical exchange to feel relief. 

warnings : smut, nsfw. rough unprotected sex. swearing. 2.5k words. no spoilers other than johnny’s status.

notes : something new! next to zero plot, just some good ol fucking each other’s brains out smut. I had a lot of fun writing this, might write some more fics for him if readers are interested. enjoy! feedback appreciated as always. also! i’d love to read some johnny fics if you have recommendations :)

She’s slipping away, day by day by day.

Exhilarating, exhausting. The steps under her feet hurt, they mock. With each dragged, littered breath trudged out her lips, she crumbles. Crumbles in what feels as if the boneyard of a dream; the debris of a reverie.

She hurts, she needs relief. Something temporary to match what swills inside.

Relief that would come in something more than amber kissed crystal glasses, something stronger than the wash of bitter liquor searing down her throat. Alcohol feats in her head- but so does he.

He feats in her head, he’s taking over. Day by day, by day.

“Hey highness, why don’t you make yourself useful and get more smokes.”

His voice comes in loud barrels, thuds of lightening that crash in her veins. It’s sharp, pronounced. Gravelly, a contrast, disparity to her quieter, mellower one- one that caused a ruckus to be heard for the entirety of her being, to be remembered.

Yet, it hadn’t gotten her far. She’d been far from what she’d dreamt.

       Her voice, her quiet, broken voice that plead to be heard.

He stands crisp, muscled back brave against the cold metallic wall. Broken drags and hostile exhales haste out his throat, the tared smoke serving as a dire remembrance of what he used to be.

Real.

“Gonna move or what?” Strong, cynical. The tone he spits is rough, pessimistic. He’d come as a parasite, something humane no more, driven by a dream, a delusion. His delusion, he’d use her for. There’s no affliction in his voice, no compassion. His voice registers dimly through the rumble of her own agony.

Somewhere along blurred lines, parasitic growls became usual; anticipated.

It’s tough being angry at someone who hears you.

And somewhere along the dreary lines, he’d felt it too.

It’s tough being angry at someone who sees you. Sees someone, the world had long forgotten.

Her voice comes in sharp daggers, strident. “Shut up.” Long for relief brews in her nerves, threatens to overtake. Threatens to destruct. “Shut the fuck up for one second” She growls, a low huff under her breath. The burn is breaking her, the yearn scorches inside long empty walls.

He knows too, he senses the deliberation inside her. He feels it in cold, chilled ghastly bones. He could help her, and she could help him, with something more than the mission at stake. Something sinfully bigger than the dream.

Something to feel human, again. He walks, a hologram that leaves louder, heavier steps than anyone she’d known prior. She feels a tingle; a twitch in her skin ignites, she feels a dark warmth.

It comes from him; it calls from his body.

“You’re an asshole. Nothing more.” She pierces, the toxins fall her lips, a desperate attempt to keep him away. Keep him out.

The drags of his steps thud louder in her head, the shift of his holographic form closer. There’s a hoarse gravel in his throat, something so negative, yet so familiar. So painfully familiar. He lives inside her, he’s all she’s began to remember. “Cigarettes make me feel something.” The cool air that stings the nape of her neck sends a shiver down her spine. “Something fucking real for once.”

“Fuck off.” She spits, avoiding a sworn intense gaze. Her stare in the abyss out the distant paned windows causes a churn in her mid, something sickening. A quiet realization falls, creeping.

“You’re taking over me.”

A chuckle off his mouth, a smirk curled to his thin taut lips. “We are bound.” He growls. “And I am owed.”

Chained; she reminds herself. You are chained, shackled to him.

“You’re owned nothing.” She grits. He watches the way she tenses, visibly burning.

In his hallow shell of a mind long forgotten, he’d undressed her a thousand times; watched the way she slept so vulnerably, thought of the way the threads that hug her body like a lover could peel off so easily. So sinfully. “Can’t help but wonder what this pretty pussy of yours could make me feel instead.” A growl emits his throat, stocked fingers finding their way palming thin fabric shielding her cunt from prying gaze.

And the touch that registered leaves her panting. His touch, something she’d never felt before, was real. He was real. This ghost that drowns in her every thought was existent as day, dark as night.

“You want me, as much as I want you.” His voice comes in drowned out waves; the long inside her body for something physical slowly enveloping. “Fucking say it.”

She dreams of relief, of release. She dreams of good, pleasure that could wash her lungs; quench the burn. She dreams of something more than the familiar scald of liquor sent in cascades down her throat. She dreams of something physical, something filthy to satiate relief.

Sex starved, she succumbs. Sex longing, he smirks, and smirks,

       and smirks.

Stop, says her mind.

Go, haunts her body. Let him use you the way you’ve always wanted.

“Fuck me.” She mutters, breath rugged, crisp desperation rung on shade stained lips. “Fuck me. Now.”  The words rip, long pent frustrations urge. He’s far too appealing, perfectly groomed beard and lengthy locks raven on his mane; toned muscles, cryptic bolded ink litter his skin. Deep-rooted ink bedecks his un robotic arm, and she sighs at the way his smirk induced lips crawl at her neck. Lingering kisses, gentle bites leaving faint purple bruises to her delicate skin;

Something about the way he speaks, the way his touch held the power of a million fucking bullets.

Unmatched, unprecedented.

Cold and stoic, his bionic hand plants to her chest, above the valley of perfectly plump breasts. Slowly, he guides, her body finding refuge on her bed covered in a sea of soft sheets and cottoned pillows. The same bed, where she knew he’d fuck her into oblivion, now that she’d asked.

A fire burns in his belly, a smoke that matches lustrous eyes roving and bulging pants. Through brown leather, the outline of his impressive cock causes a gulp in her throat, the anticipation tightening in her ached cunt, long yearned for the fruit of any friction. “Take everything off.” His shallow voice demands, and she watches the way he palms a throbbing cock shielded from her gaze.

Johnny was equipped, experienced; expert to say the least. He knew well how to please a woman, how to mix the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. If there’s one thing groupie affairs taught;

all pussy is good, but only few, came heavenly.

He’d known since he’d saw her, since their first encounter. There’d been no place he’d wanted to be buried guts deep, no place as tight, warm, inviting than her cunt. Her movements follow obliged, skimpy cloth and thin bottoms tugged off for his view. Amatory lace bottoms and a matching bra unhook through the brittle fingers of her hands; her eyes never leave him. The way his prying eyes dig into hers, piercing. He palms, and strokes, cold hands moving to unbuckle a heavy belt that falls to the floor with a dense thud.

In the chilled air of the futuristic room, a cold shiver pecks at her skin; inch by inch a warmth blazes inside. The anticipation of what Johnny would, could do to her. He could destroy her.

He could ruin her, with every thrust.

Much to his splendour, her bare breasts sit perfectly swollen on her chest, pert, hardened nipples vibrant with tint. Silky skin, perfectly dewy. She was a fucking goddess in her own right; a sex siren his cock pulses for, in dire need. A flush to her skin ignites, visibly frustrated. “Haven’t been fucked in a while, have you.” He states firmly, less of a question than proclamation. A cold, robotic finger grazes her bottom lip, stony, iced, a snicker loiters. “Or haven’t been fucked well?” His finger trails down, gently, sub-zero, feather light as it glosses her skin, brushed against the petals, the slippery folds of her tender womanhood; two digits enter, curling inside her beautifully slick, warm walls.

“You’re gonna remember me for days, princess. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy of yours, show you what it means to be alive.”

In this moment, she’d swore she belongs to him. She’d permit his pessimistic soul to do whatever he sought, with her frail body.

“Gonna pull it out or what, coward.” She allows, that familiar confidence she’d so desperately tried to hold true finding light once again.

She tries, she pleads to be strong. Yet she knows, she’d be sure. She’d crumble under him; she’d fall mercy to his mechanical touch.

“Patience.” He sneers, motorized hands unzipping. “Patience is virtue, darling.”

Somewhere along the way, she’d gotten accustomed to snarky remarks, egotistical transcriptions.

His cock falls out of his pants, heavy, thick, big, beautiful. She swallows, intrigued by the grandeur, a rosy tip swells with beads of wet pre cum, seeps. A thunderous vein runs down a curved shaft, copious balls surrounded by a jungle of dark hair.

She swallows at the sight; his words stay true. Intimidated, she’d for sure remember him, for days. The ache he’d leave would triumph for days to come.

“On your back.” He demands, pants long forgotten to the flat below, a few meagre tugs jerked to his raw, throbbing member.

Johnny Silverhand had fucked countless women, yet none made his cock as painfully erect, tender as she did. In the most sinful of ways, his cock would become her prisoner, and they hadn’t even started yet. With a rock hard cock digging into the skin of her stomach, he takes positon above her, towering. The scent of need fills the air as silky legs spread for his taking,

She spreads for his taking. A gasp dies in her throat as his cock springs, the deep baritone moan in his chest grumbling as his erection dips forcefully into her tiny mouth, impeding down her throat with a sole thrust. His hips buck forcefully in her wet, tight mouth, lingering as his jaw tightens, before plummeting out.

He’d primed himself in her throat, preparing to be buried between feeble legs, drowned inside her tender cunt.

Glancing between sweat stippled bodies, she stares and stares when his hands line a pulsating cock up with her entrance, firm hands planting to her hips, his massive member sinks inside her, rough, robust. A heavy thrust implores, big, warm, beautiful. One deep, harsh thrust was all it took. All it took for her to ascend, a loud moan of pure pleasure let off her lips at the sheer weight of him inside.

The bass of his voice moans harsh, sucking in a sharp breath to the feel of her wrapped, glistening his cock with her creamy, wet releases. His pace proves animalistic, hard off the get go, minimal time for her to adjust before he pounds her hastily, laboured breaths and quickened heavy exhales channelling out both their bodies. Delicate, weak arms desperately hold his broad shoulders as he drills into her needily, sloppily, the sound of thick balls slamming her core echo grey walls, dark eyes and enticingly deep grunts kissing her ears as he takes her body whole. “Fuck…you’re...” He breathes, rugged, harsh. “You’re…so fucking tight. So fucking wet.” Growling, he watches her become a whimpering, disorderly mess under his weight as beautifully plump breasts jerk hastily to his hostile pace. Her eyes flutter closed, lips slightly agape as she breathes tiny, gasped moans, fingernails clawing into his fleshy shoulders.

His hips rock expertly, so rough, so quick she feels warm tears singe in he corners of her eyes at how well he fucks her, how guttural his moans fall. Praises for her pussy dawdle his lips in hasty exhales, chasing his orgasm as her cunt cocoons, moulds to his cock so perfectly; as if a glove, as if she’d been made just for him. Solely for him to use, for him to fuck. His hold on her tightens, hands kneading tantalising hips as one moves to squeeze her breast, tough. The stretch he leaves proves incomparable, eyes widening when the curve of his cock hits her G spot repeatedly, hisses of her name and rapt desire overtaking. A selfish pace conjures, her body jerks, stifling moans with each imperative thrust.

The pain, the pleasure. The unholy pleasure of this parasite splitting her inch by inch. His cock glides easily, slips in and out gratifyingly; whimpers and yelps brew her voice, a chant of his name desperately recited as if a prayer she’d held, punctuated by growls and throaty gruffs of his. With her tits bouncing vigorously to his pace, Johnny’s need only cultivates further, and he drowns in the feel of her heavenly cunt.

His, all, and only, his.

Her legs tremble, a bite sinks into her arm covering her mouth to cage particularly gruesome moans. The violent labour of his hips, over and over, and over leave every vein inside her snapping, every nerve ending sparking with lust, she feels him all. His entire cock barely fitting; she squirms under him, his buttery voice filtered with demand. “Tighten up for me. Milk this cock like it’s the last thing you’ll do.” His moans fall heavier, as his thrusts; sultry, stiff voice surging her ears as he shudders, shivering, buried deep, deep inside. A cocktail of glossy, creamed releases they’d create together drip to the sheets below, although neither cease to care.

A joint euphoria builds, something they’d needed dire. Her limbs wrap his frame, his muscles cage her tight. He pounds, he thrusts, he jolts, he relishes in the tender haven she’d given him to spoil in; the sound of his cock slicking in her wetness through unaltered thrusts proves far too much, she feels each ridge, each inch of his godly cock assaulting her core.

“Gonna cum,” Johnny asserts, pace never faltering. She jolts, and jolts, and cries, and whines to his speed, to his feel. Within a few particularly intense thrusts, lewd moans drive out her lips in frantic succumb, her pussy throbs for him, skin colliding, arousing him further. Holding dearly, she practically melts into him, hips bucking to meet his as a blissful, earthshattering orgasm washes over her in currents; in oceanic waves, a tsunami of all things good, all things filthy.

Her pussy falls sore, aching, delicate from the action when he grunts imperatively, the sound of hammering hips into her heat dying down when his cock twitches within her, slipping through silky arousal easily, slamming relentlessly when his high comes. It comes, he cums, deep, deep inside her trifling cunt, swollen thick and jerked as spurts of hot, scotching cum coat the insides of her pussy. The groans he lets out prove impatient, hoarse, coursing, currenting through her ears. She beats with his succulent release inside, a cocktail her juices and what he’d left behind coating the insides of her thighs.

In sex gratified bliss, her eyes widen when he collapses on top, thunderous arms holding her still, cock excruciating felt within. Tonight, she’d been told. She’d been shown,

Johnny likes it

Sloppy. Vulgar. Tight.

pornographic.

       Johnny likes it rough, hard.

Ruthless, and she’d crumbled in each inch of it. Addicted, long gone. He’d sworn the same, intoxicated by her unrivalled cunt, those soft, whingeing moans that flee her lips;

With their skin sticking together through beads of peppered exertion, laboured puffs and heavy huffs pound in their chests, bodied still fitted together as if a puzzle piece, cock still sheathed inside. Simpering, smirking, his cold, contemporary finger lifts the faint of her chin,

the world seemed to have ended in this moment.

her world had ended, shaken.

But time still passed, it passed, it tightened, clawed in her chest.

Nothing compared to him, nothing tasted as sweet.

“We are bound, kitten. This pussy is mine, and mine alone.”

       A declaration, a fate written.

He’d taken over another part of her; and this time, she let him.

Her body belongs to him, in all forms.

His fuck doll, she’d be.

And she knows, she feels it in her bones. He’ll be the death of her through what comes;

       he’ll love to ruin her.

 and she’ll love, to be his.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

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