#make these decisions during your run and just do as i fucking say YES OF COURSE i wanna bang Gale ASAP

[upwards-descent]

Me: Okay so if we take a long rest now, it should trigger the scene wit--

Bf: Wow, we just got to a new area, we JUST took a long rest, but you just GOTTA bend Gale over immediately, huh?

Me: Hey-- but-- listen, this is my run! 😭

[boogiewoogieweeb]

#he's good at his job! #crozier likes him! crozier chose him! #and any enabling of crozier happens because he lives and works in one of the most strictly hierarchical systems to ever exist #where dissidence can be a hanging offence! #and he's so! fucking! angry! about it #also having to deal with a spirit bear on top of everything #that makes you question the very fabric of the assumptions you once had about the world #also his cabin door is stuck!! #we talk a lot about jopson finally snapping and beginning to bite and kick #i really think he should invite edward to the inevitable breakdown - @maedhrus

listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: How They Propose

Requested: I know you already did a preference with how they propose but please please please do this with the supes! I think it would be amazing. thank you thank you thank you ♥️♥️♥️ - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! This was so fun to write, I love exploring their characters!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Homelander makes sure he's got a crowd with his supporters when he pulls out a ring and gets on one knee, asking you to marry him. There are cameras and reporters there, too. They will run stories about the most powerful man in the world finding his one true love, the sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, the faulter in his voice when he asks you. Everyone who saw it for themselves says it was the most romantic speech they've ever heard. This will do great for his public support and image. His fans are all about traditional values. Homelander staying a bachelor makes his fans antsy, nervous, like he can't settle down. Now he's doing that. You, John, and Ryan will be the perfect little family. An instant family, actually. People cheer and whistle and cry. You say yes, because there is no other choice. And you hug and kiss, and he directs you were to look and what questions to answer like when the wedding will be or the color palette you'll choose. He makes jokes and quips that everyone laughs at.

The Deep asks you to marry him on television. You were placed together because you have fantastic ratings, and he could use a little boost in the public eye. You haven't been "dating" for very long but, as he puts it in his speech, he doesn't need to have known you for a long time to know that you're the one for him. You smile, and even she'd a few tears before putting the ring on and kissing him. You're not actually getting married, at least not legally, but Ashley already has color swatches and flowers and venues. It'll be the wedding of the century. You make sure, behind closed doors, he doesn't get the wrong idea. You put on a good act. You're smart and stunning, and you could have any Supe you want. When the inevitable divorce happens, you'll come out the better for it. Interviews, book deals, and talk shows. You'll ruin him. You just have to get through the next few months without any hiccups. You have to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or vulgar. That, in itself, is a full-time job. You talk through grit teeth in your smile, telling him not to fuck this up for you.

A-Train does it out of desperation. You and Reggie were high school sweethearts. You were together when he was let in the The Seven, and you've stayed with him through every bump in the road. When things with Homelander get really tough, really scary, Reggie pops the question. It's not the most romantic drive for the proposal, but if anything ever happened to him because of Vought and Homelander he wants you to have access to everything he'd leave behind. All the money, the deals, everything. You can only get that through marriage. He loves you, he's loved you forever, but he does this not solely out of love. He can't. This decision is too big and has too much weight. He has to protect you, to save you from what he's had to deal with. You don't know any of this about the engagement though, so you say yes, proclaiming it one of the happiest days of your life. You understand some of the tension, but Reggies too afraid to go into detail. You'd worry too much. He can't do that to you.

Maeve blurts it out during a fight. You're tired of being hidden. You're tired of keeping things so low-key, rescheduling because she has to go play house with Homelander. You're both yelling at one another when she asks you if you want to marry her. Of course you do, you say, angry that she would think anything different. Then let's get married, she yells. Fine! She storms off into the linen closet where the small box sits between two towels. You hated them and said they were too scratchy. You never would have looked there. She hands it to you, and when you open it, you're speechless. You always said things about jewelery in passing: silver or gold, the cuts you like, the gems if diamonds aren't your thing. You're angry and then you're not. It's a lot to think about (knowing you and Maggie could never go public, it would put you and her in far too much danger) and yet, the answer is so clear. Yes. Yes you want to spend the rest of your life with her. That's all you've ever wanted.

Firecracker asks you live on her show. You always knew she'd want to include her fans. They're a big part of her life, her popularity, and a huge reason why she's even part of The Seven. Her audience has heard stories about you from the beginning. They heard all about your first date, how cute she thought you were. It's only right they be included in this. So, under the idea that you're doing an interview about being in a relationship with one of The Seven members, you agree. When she asks you, you're speechless. Everyone is cheering and whistling. Of course it's a yes! That episode of her show goes pretty viral. Some of her fans are upset and turn on her, but for the most part they're all happy you're now engaged. Ashley is happy, too. Misty's ratings haven't been great as of late, but this stunt makes her a fan favorite all over again. Her audience agrees with the traditional values of marriage, family, etc.

Soldier Boy always wanted to get married, settle down with a white pickett fence, and a couple of kids. He certainly thought it would have been sooner than this, but he's still young, and he wouldn't have found you if everything hadn't happened. Still, it's been on his mind. He sees you with him in that house, with those kids. There's one thing to be grateful for out of all this. Ben isn't a huge romantic. You're not expecting rose petals and candles. Instead, he rolls over in bed one lazy morning and pops the question. You think he's joking, saying that's not funny when it's something you wanted forever. He's serious, though. He's got the ring and everything. It takes you a minute to realize this is all real. Of course, you say yes! When you do, he attacks you in kisses, grinning from ear to ear. You go out and celebrate, drinking until the room spins, telling anyone who will listen that you're getting married.

Sister Sage comes to you with a list of pros and cons. Some are big, like the commitment of marriage and the issues behind the traditional values. Others are relatively small to you, like the number of books she'd bring with her when you got a place together. You and Sage have been together a long time. You know she has thousands of books, you know she's thoughtful about everything except her own messiness, her own chaos. It's up to you to decide. She leaves her list with you, but before she can step through the door you're already saying yes, explaining your feelings about the whole situation. You love her. You know she has faults, God knows you have yours. And she still loves you not despite them, but because of them. She wasn't really expecting you to say yes, at least so immediately, so you'll have to wait on the ring. It was the easiest yes of your life.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

Word Count: 9.8 k

Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision

Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 

“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”

Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 

“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 

“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.

Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.

Fuck, this is bad.

Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”

“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.

“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.

“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 

“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 

Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 

With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.

Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.

The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.

Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.

Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.

It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  

Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.

Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 

As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.

Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   

Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  

And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.

Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 

“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.

“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”

It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 

Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 

He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 

The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 

“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 

Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…

Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 

He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.

…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 

A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 

You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.

“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.

Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”

Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.

“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.

Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.

“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 

More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.

Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.

“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 

There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 

Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.

“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”

“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.

His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.

“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 

Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 

“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  

He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 

“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  

There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.

Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.

“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.

You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”

Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.

He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.

The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   

It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 

“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”

You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.

There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 

“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 

“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.

Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 

Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.

One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 

He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.

There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”

This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 

“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 

Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  

“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.

Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.

An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 

With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 

“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.

“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 

“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.

He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.

Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.

Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”

Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 

The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.

Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  

“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”

The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 

He has dragged you into hell with him.

“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”

“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.

Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”

The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 

Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”

With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  

The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 

Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.

Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 

He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 

“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 

More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 

“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”

That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 

“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.

Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.

“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.

Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”

“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”

“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”

More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 

“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?

Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”

He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 

You can give him time, right?

“Please, Simon, just look at me.”

Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.

“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 

Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”

Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 

Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.

“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.

Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”

You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 

Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 

Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.

But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.

Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 

Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 

Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”

“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”

Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”

The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”

In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.

“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 

You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 

Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”

Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?

Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 

You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”

Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 

“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”

Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.

Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 

Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.

You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   

“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 

“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 

You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”

“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.

There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  

You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.

“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 

Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?

It doesn’t make sense.

“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 

Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”

More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 

“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 

His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 

“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”

“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.

At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.

Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 

You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 

Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.

“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”

He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 

You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 

Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.

A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 

Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   

“Make it count,” you breathe.

You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   

His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.

“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 

He is gone.

The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.

The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…

What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 

He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.

The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  

It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?

Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.

“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”

The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”

Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.

“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”

“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.

“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 

“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”

Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”

Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass

[anantaru]

who do you think would be most likely to end up in a fwb arrangement (and catch feelings 🤭)?

including. kaveh & scaramouche

cw. [ex]plicit, friends with benefits, they’re idiots istg, fem! reader

— kaveh + will tell you he loves you during sex

kaveh's body was aflame and his frazzled chest heaves as he watches you go down on him, slowed movements and your touch bringing him afloat, as if underwater, and his eyes, they're aglow— purled with a dwelling pleasure when you squeeze him gently around his tip, your thumb patting over a thudding vein which was on the underside of his girth, embellishing his pretty, thick cock when your lips slant down at last, parting to wrap around his sizable dick.

"archons.." kaveh moans out the pleasure you set free in his frame, and he's licking his lips at the sheer sight of you, mouth watering as a heavy hand drops against the back of your head to move you up and down his bulging cock himself as you're eagerly running your tongue back and forth the sensitive skin to please him, make him cum inside your warmth, whilst the man was growing certainly impatient when you taste a couple droplets of his pre greatly overwhelming your taste buds;

yet then, it's when your entire ordeal of having this, so called, special relationship, which— let's be honest now, was fairly confusing in its own parts, came entirely crumbling down on you.

well, you occasionally fucked, yes, but that's about it, so when you suddenly hear it, the:

"fuck— i love you so much."

you instantly still your lips around his cock because wait. what.

your eyes shoot open at the words and you look up at kaveh as his own worried gaze meets yours immediately, in horror, both parties awkwardly staring at each other for what felt like hours as he was reminding himself about what he just said, and what he just ruined for himself.

you pull him out of your mouth, and kaveh hisses at the lost contact of your warmth sadly leaving his cock when he attempts to speak again and fix this bloody mess somehow.

"i mean this!" he panics, pointing at his still, very much, erected cock resting on his lower stomach, "i don't love you, i love this!"

you look at him in overwhelmed disbelief, because what the actual fuck, honestly defeated with this entire, confusing situation as you quickly grab your shirt off the ground, swiftly pulling it above your head and dragging it down to conceal your upper body because being fully naked right now, didn't seem like the best decision.

yet funnily enough the second kaveh contradicted himself, particularly when he stated the "i do not love you" part, something deep inside his stomach scrunches up viciously, so much it began to ache, as if his own body has caught him in a blatant lie, a big one at that, one he had ultimately hidden from even himself and he didn't realize until now.

yet, you rub your forehead, wishing you would've just ignored it and kept sucking the life out of his cock. although, you speak at last, a little overpowered, despite that keeping your cool.

"who says 'i love you' during a blowjob?"

you question but he didn't hear you, instead he did the unimaginable and made it worse, muttering the following to himself but loud enough so you could hear it, "or maybe i do love you."

"WHAT!"

— scaramouche + will stay in denial

"how's that?" scaramouche flaunts the brilliant smirk on his face as he taunts you, smacking his working hips against your cunt so fucking fast and strongly that the sound alone of your skin touching the other almost suffocates out your own moans and whines.

"—so good." you hiccup, the noises parting from your lips falling lower and lower, dripping with a high amount of lust and longing. and scaramouche certainly knew you were close, he can tell, immediately— after all, he's seen it plenty of times before, well, who knew having a fuck buddy could be so beneficial to him, he honestly didn't seem quite convinced in the beginning but grew into it relatively fast.

up till now at least, because for some reason, he cannot understand why he suddenly cares about how good he was fucking you, or if you're enjoying yourself wholly— if his hips were lurching forward correctly, if his thrusts were strong enough for you to desperately cry out his name or when the muscles in your core clench down for him to see literal, big, bright stars as you milk him dry with your pussy, taking him perfectly into your warm walls.

when did he start giving a single damn about you? obviously, not to be a completely malicious dick and an asshole— but it was fairly difficult for scaramouche to find meaningful, real relationships with another individual, and when you first hooked up with each other, it then repeating day by day as you ultimately decided to walk into this kind of relationship, hand in hand, he never once thought about catching any feelings for you, because quite frankly, he did not believe he was capable to produce such insolent emotions in the first place.

yet, there he was now, being happy and smiling from head to toe when you're affirming him, when he can make you cum on his cock before he was even allowed to cum himself.

because, here's the deal, he won't stop denying himself, not before you're climaxing all over his girth and soiling his skin with your liquids, until he can ease himself forward again and notices your tasty slick all over him as he's automatically wetting his lips at the sinful sight of your pussy clenching around, fucking himself into your cute, small entrance again that gnaws down onto every bump and ridge coating his entire shaft.

but no, again, he cannot possibly be in love with you, hah! those feelings, someone must be playing tricks on him, right?

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[crag-dreams]

It’s the Saturday before Election Day 2024 here in the US, and stress/anxiety/fear/etc… is pretty high for a lot of people. That’s warranted, because another 4 years of Trump/GOP rule will harm so many people. You should do whatever you need to manage the next few days (including voting if you haven’t already), but I really want to encourage you to stop giving polls and “close race” media coverage much / any of your time or consideration.

Polling processes are wildly obsolete for how Millennial and Gen Z voters act compared to Gen X and Boomers (this is not a dig at these generations, just a factual observation). Polls are also easily manipulated to return a desired result, and the people running polls have a vested interest in getting your engagement. Keeping the results tight keeps eyeballs on them.

Similarly, the 24/7 media environment needs you constantly on edge and worried so you keep checking in and listening. They have no interest in a boring election or landslide victory. The majority of journalists have not risen to address this moment with the deliberate, in-depth reporting that we need. It’s far easier to throw together click-bait headlines to pump their numbers. It’s why they spend days covering the tiniest slip by Harris/Walz (and previously, Biden) while giving Trump/Vance a pass on every insane thing they say. Trump is *incredible* for news companies. He is so outrageous that their headlines write themselves, and as long as they don’t follow-up to truly report on him in a way that would end any other politician, they have unlimited content. Whatever you think about Biden, just remember: a single debate performance that wasn’t great was seized upon by the media (because it made for great engagement) and ended his candidacy. Trump can say the most batshit things (they’re eating the dogs!), and they minimize it at every opportunity, because he is good for them. They are sacrificing their journalistic integrity and responsibility at the expense of real people’s lives and rights.

So, what do we do if polls and most news coverage isn’t useful? Remember:

Trump lost the 2020 election. The Electoral College is the only reason it was even close. People were fed up then, and they are even more fed up now.

Roe was overturned by an activist Supreme Court that Trump is responsible for. In virtually every state-level election since then, the results have been outstandingly positive for Democrats, including in the Deep South™. This is why so many GOP politicians have stopped talking about abortion, even going so far as to remove their position from their websites, or directly contradicting themselves when asked about it. The only person making a decision about a woman’s body should be that woman, and these predominantly white dudes still don’t realize how badly they fucked up.

The majority of Trump’s former Cabinet and senior leadership have very publicly turned on him. While it would have been nice for them to do this earlier, it’s unprecedented to see so many prominent Republicans declare they will not vote for him. This doesn’t impact the hardcore MAGA crowd, but it absolutely speaks to more centrist Republican voters.

Trump has been convicted of sexual assault, and he is an adjudicated rapist. He’s been convicted of 34 felony indictments, with more to potentially come. Even though it seems like he never suffers consequences for these legal issues, it costs him voters. People who could justify supporting him before are finally reaching a limit, even if they don’t publicly admit it. (Some do!)

Also, more and more people who voted for Trump in 2016 and 2020 are willing to publicly admit they are tired of him and can’t do it again. His rallies are smaller and smaller, the crowds are less engaged, and, yes, people leave during his rambling rants more and more often.

Gen Z is getting to vote for the first time at any real scale. Say what you will about TikTok and other platforms, but they are more informed and showing up and caring about issues that didn’t move the needle for Gen X or Boomers. Remember the Access Hollywood, grab ‘em by the pussy, tape? That should have ended his original campaign, but it didn’t. Gen Z has found out about that, and it’s just one of so many things driving them to get out and vote. The turnout is going to be incredible.

Because we still use the stupid Electoral College, this election largely comes down to swing states. The Trump campaign has done almost everything imaginable to lose those voters. Whether it’s bashing unions (Trump said a child could do the same job as automotive workers building cars, he bragged about not paying overtime, etc…), immigrants (they’re eating the dogs, GOP-led states demonizing them), Puerto Ricans (calling their home a floating pile of garbage, Trump denying hurricane relief for almost two years), or women (abortion, telling women they should vote how their husband wants them to, Vance thinking their purpose is nothing more than baby-making, stay-home, wait-on-a-man’s every need), they are losing the swing states.

Elections are *incredibly secure and trustworthy.* The Trump/GOP camp has attacked this at every opportunity with virtually no success. The few instances of voter fraud we’ve seen in the last few years are almost entirely from Republicans. They have already started the narrative that the election is rigged if Trump loses. This narrative will only increase as results start to roll in on Tuesday. Don’t even worry about it. They will lose every / almost every single lawsuit they try to bring. It will have no impact on the eventual outcome.

Early voting, including absentee and mail-in ballots, turnout is incredibly encouraging. The higher the turnout, the better, and people are showing up. There’s fatigue and embarrassment on the GOP side (you’re gonna eventually hear from those voters that they stayed home, voted for Harris, etc…), and there’s excitement and motivation on the Dem side.

Are there reasons to be worried? Of course. The Trump campaign is going to try and obstruct the voting process in every way they can. They’re blocking poll monitors in Texas and Florida. Drop boxes in some states have been attacked. Voter rolls have been illegally purged. They’re bringing lawsuits (most of which they’ve already lost) even before Election Day. They’re going to claim fraud. They’ll probably incite violence again.

These are the actions of a desperate campaign that isn’t trying to actually win, because they know they’ve already lost.

So, we can acknowledge our stress, anxiety, and fear, but we don’t have to let it ruin the next few days. Get outside and enjoy (hopefully) beautiful Fall weather. Snuggle your pets. Listen to your favorite albums. Read a great book. Hang out with your people. Vote.

We’re a few days away from a massive weight being lifted from our shoulders. Don’t let it weigh you down until then.

[opal-kitty333]

So, I like Horror Sans, and being a nerd, I've been thinking about him a lot during my recovery with brain damage. A lot of people treat his wounds like brain damage, giving him memory problems, chronic headaches/migraines, speaking difficulties, fugue states, just issues collecting his thoughts. All understandable and reasonable symptoms, but there's something about just what truly horrific, completely life altering, brain damage to such an extent can do to a person that hasn't been explored very much. Yes, he doesn’t technically have a brain, but considering someone with head trauma like him would be in a comatose like start for weeks to a month, we can choke up him taking that hit like he did and being able to walk and talk to that. Plus, we can take inspiration from real injury and science and have wiggle room for it to not be 100% accurate. Anyway-

This is Phineas Gage.

It is one of the earliest extreme cases of brain damage where the patient survived while psychology as a scientific practice was getting on it's feet. If you've taken a psychology class, you've heard of him. He was a railroad worker foreman who had a rod blown through his skull in an accident, destroy most of his frontal lobe.

If you don’t know what the frontal lobe is it's where your ability to reason and make decisions, the ability to control your muscles voluntarily, and your ability to process knew information and recall old information. It's well known for being the part of your brain that inputs logic, the part gives you the ability to remember what happened last time you picked a fight with someone, so instead you choose to walk away despite how much your want to punch them for being a prick.

As I stated before, this man was a foreman, well known for keeping a level head, being responsible, and hard working. After the injury, that completely changed. Everyone agreed he was barely recognizable as himself. He was impulsive, prone to extreme mood swings, impatient, making massive plans only to almost immediately abandon them, and generally seemed to have no control over his desires or ability to distinguish between a want or a need.

Now, let's look at Horror.

I'd say it's safe to say his frontal lobe but also part of his parietal lobe would be utterly fucked. Your parietal lobe controls your ability to process sensory information (mostly touch) and to understand not only where you and your body is, but to process the world around you. You see a massive enough tent, some clowns running around, the right music, and your parietal lobe is what does the work to label that as a circus.

To have these two structures damaged, or the closest equivalent in a monster, would radically alter Sans' personality, his ability to move, his understanding of the context around him, and connect with others.

He'd become rather self centered on his own desires and beliefs, struggling to even have the patients let alone the want to give other people the time of day. His actions would be impulsive, made on his emotions in the present moment and with little concerns other than the immediate consequences. He'd be prone to loud outbursts, not just rage, but any other emotions like sadness or glee with little ability to realize how he's acting may be overblown or inappropriate. Not only could his ability to put his thoughts into words be a struggle, but his ability to say those words could be affected as well. He'd be very present focused, with pass relations or responsibility mattering little as he keeps marching to the beat of his own drum.

That is, if he could march. He'd not only struggle to know where his limbs are or what he's touching, but his sense of balance would be awful. He'd likely have a constant wobble, having to go slowly and potentially hold onto or lean on things if he wanted to move quickly. God forbid how much he'd bump into furniture or trip and struggle actually grab onto something to catch himself. It's entirely possible he'd have difficulty reading and writing or confusing his left and right regularly. He'd need more time to process a situation and could very easily misidentify what's actually going on could likely lead to him acting even more unpredictable as the world around him is so much more dangerous and he's struggling to fully understand what everyone is doing and trying to keep two steps ahead of everyone around him.

But here's the thing. The brain is also incredibly adaptable in ways your wouldn't believe. Phineas Gage slowly recovered over time. He died twelve years after the incident from epilepsy but over time he slowly regaining his social skills and general functionality. He picked up a job as a stage coach four years after the indecent even. He was never quite the same person he was before, but he wasn't doomed to be what he first was after the indecent.

Imagine what this kind of thing could mean for Sans. Not only would the betrayal cut deep enough and the world falling apart put him through trauma that would shred the soul, but people he trust literally damaged his ability to think logically and control his impulses. Of course he's going to lash out, focus on doing anything he can to survive with little respect for what anyone else thinks. Even forcing his brother to do things and refusing to listen to him unless given no other option. All while he thinks the biggest problems after the indecent is how much his head hurts, how his memory is shot, that it's harder or even down right painful to think, and how he's struggling to cling to his independence while never having the patience or resources to give himself the ability to heal. He doesn't even realize how much he's changed. If you point it out Sans would likely get defensive and aggressive, or brush it off as everyone underground being awful people out to eat each other alive.

But then he gets out to the surface. He gets stable food, a safe place to live. His brother is recovering and as the years pass his mind can finally start pulling itself together and healing, finally. Sans begins to regain his ability to think critically on his own actions and others, his emotional outburst and vindictive behavior start to wind down and fade. He's able to think and start sifting through all the shit he remembers.

The guilt of what he did, the people he hurt for no reason other than pettiness. The stupid decisions he made that hurt himself and/or Papyrus in the long run. All the hindsight he has now. Imagine how much he would bury those memories and thoughts. Justifying everything he could and insisting he had reasons, or that it's just how it was and that everyone was as awful and cruel he was. Or just accepting that what Undyne had done to him and the famine after had ruined him, broken and rotted all the good he had and left him vile and malicious. That he'll never have a chance to truly be who he was before.

[serial-designation-jey]

ALRIGHT YOU GUYS ASKED FOR THIS!

MURDER DRONES INCORRECT QUOTES, 38 PAGES WORTH, THE SHIPS ARE NUZI, DIZZY AND OILROSE. THIS WAS MADE LIKE A WEEK AFTER EPISODE 6 RELEASED. BE PREPARED THIS WILL BE LONG.

**Thad:** We call that a traumatic experience. 

**Thad, turning to Uzi:** Not a "bruh moment". 

**Thad, turning to J:** Not "sadge". 

**Thad, turning to V:** And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

-

**Lizzy:** *lying down and crying* 

**V:** There, there. Why don’t you take some time off to not be around me while you’re like this?

-

**V:** Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation? 

**N:** All the time. 

**V:** Then you should be used to it by now.

-

**Uzi:** You need a hobby. 

**V:** I have a hobby! 

**Uzi:** Fawning over J isn’t a hobby.

-

**N:** How do you connect with a fictional character? 

**Thad:** What? 

**Doll:** что? (What?) 

**Lizzy:** What? 

**Uzi:** *pulls up a 500 slide presentation* I'm glad you asked.

-

**Doll:** Иногда я разговариваю сам с собой без причины. (Sometimes i talk to myself.)

**Doll:** Я тоже! (Me too!)

-

**Lizzy:** How do I tell Doll that I want them to yell at me like they're Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

-

**Doll:** Uzi просто сказал: «У меня есть тяга к разрушению», а затем они нагнулись и развязали мой ботинок. (Uzi just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then they reached down and untied my shoe.)

-

**Uzi:** I will send my army to attack! 

**Uzi:** *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

-

**J:** What kinds of sounds annoy you? 

**N:** Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? 

**J, now interested:** Lets say imaginary. 

**N:** Spiders wearing flip-flops.

-

**Lizzy:** Ow! 

**Doll:** В чем дело? (What’s wrong?) 

**Lizzy:** I have this weird pain right behind my visor. 

**Doll:** Это называется стрессовая головная боль. Я получил свой первый, когда мне было четыре года. (It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.)

-

**N:** J, you’re mean!

**J:** What did you say? 

**N:** You heard me! 

**J, internally:** And it turns out I actually didn't hear what the fuck you just said.

-

**Thad:** Why are you two always out during snowstorms? 

**N:** It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of snow. 

**Uzi:** V bet me I couldn’t get struck by lightning, but she’s WRONG.

-

**Doll:** Так когда же ��ы им расскажем? (So when are we gonna tell them? )

**Lizzy:** Just give her a minute. 

**Uzi:** *Pulling on a door that clearly says push.*

-

**Lizzy:** Hey! Wanna hear a joke? 

**Doll:** Конечно. (Sure.) 

**Lizzy:** Your life! 

**Doll:** На самом деле моя жизнь — не шутка, шутки имеют смысл. (Actually, my life isn’t a joke, jokes have meaning.)

**Lizzy:** Doll, no.

-

**Tessa:** Keep it running. *Tosses keys over shoulder into empty parking lot.*

-

*The Squad cleaning up* 

**Thad:** Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. 

**Lizzy, to Uzi:** Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

-

**Doll:** Я не был настолько пьян от масла. (I wasn’t that drunk on oil.)

**Lizzy:** You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important. 

**Doll:** ПОТОМУ ЧТО ВЫ ЕСТЬ! (BECAUSE YOU ARE!)

-

*When a child starts crying in public* 

**N:** *tries to make the child laugh* 

**Doll:** *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down* 

**Lizzy:** *gives [bad] detailed instructions to the parents* 

**Thad:** *cries with the child* 

**V:** *ignores the child* 

**Uzi:** *is the reason why the child is crying*

-

**Lizzy:** Why are we friends? 

**V:** Poor decisions on your part.

-

**Uzi:** So, are you two dating now? 

**J and V:** Yes. 

**Uzi:** Why? 

**J:** I happen to find V very appealing. 

**Uzi:** Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with V.

-

**Uzi:** When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “Woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why N made me get tested.

-

**J:** Is something burning? 

**V, leaning seductively on the counter:** Just my desire for you. 

**J:** V, the toaster is literally on fire.

-

**J**: When I first met you I thought you were a real bitch.

**N**: What changed?

**J**: Now I know you’re a fake bitch.

-

**J, passing their phone to N:** I'm passing the phone to someone, who if I had to choose between hanging out with them and having my organs removed one by one, I’d choose the organs. 

**N, passing the phone back to J:** I'm passing the phone to my best friend!

-

**Uzi:** Two brooooos! 

**N:** Chillin' in a hot tub! 

**Uzi:** Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! 

**N:** 

**Uzi:** 

**N:** *tearing up* 

**Uzi:** Babe, c'mon... 

**N:** AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING. 

**Uzi:** Babe...

-

**Uzi:** sapnu puaS. 

**Thad:** What?? 

**N:** What language is that? 

**Uzi:** Turn your phone 180 degrees. 

*Uzi was removed from the group chat*

-

**V:** At this point I have to confess… I started to feel a little bad for Doll. Maybe it was the fact that I had just outperformed them at their own game, or maybe it was that I held an obvious advantage over the poor bastard. Maybe it was just that unbearable to look into their eyes. Either way, I started to wonder if maybe this was a pointless endeavor after all. What was I doing to this person? What was I trying to prove? Was this really some grand, noble quest, to tear an overconfident fraud from their unearned throne? To show everyone that I was right. That Doll did not deserve to stand at that zenith, to lord over all their lowly competitors. Or… perhaps… was I really just doing this for myself? Beating an opponent within an inch of their life over and over and over again… all for my own petty ego. All to fill this emptiness inside of me. I asked myself, was Doll really the bad guy? Or was it me, all along? 

**V:** But then I remembered that Doll ain’t shit, and I got over it!

-

*Bullying Prevention Day at school* 

**Teacher:** Uzi, what would you do if one of your classmates viciously teased you again and again? 

**Uzi:** Oh, that’s easy. I’d take a pencil out of my pencil case— 

**Teacher:** To write something to your teacher? 

**Uzi:** —make sure that it’s really sharp, and ram it into their eye at full tilt! My mom always said the pencil is mightier than the sword because they can’t outlaw bringing pencils to school! 

**Teacher:** *internal screaming*

-

**V:** This bloodline ends with me. 

**Uzi:** That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

-

**V:** How’s practice going? 

**Lizzy:** Terrible. I want to stab everybody there. 

**V:** Okay, just don’t get any oil on your clothes. 

**Lizzy:** …you shouldn’t be condoning this. 

**V:** Don’t tell me how to live my life.

-

**Uzi, singing:** I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need— 

**Lizzy:** A mom. 

**J:** A better love life. 

**V:** Mental stability. 

**N:** *clueless* Bagels?

-

**Doll:** Люди всегда отвергают мои идеи, и мне это надоело. Два предложения, и все всегда кричат: «Какого черта? это незаконно!» и «Ты не можешь этого сделать!». Мол, давай, дай мне поговорить! (People always shoot down my ideas and I’m sick of it. Two sentences in and everyone’s always shouting “What the fuck? That’s illegal!” and “You can’t do that!”. Like, c'mon, let me talk!)

-

**V:** How was your day, Lizzy? 

**Lizzy:** Yeah, fine, it's anti-bullying week at school. 

**V:** Oh? And what does that mean? 

**Lizzy:** It means I can't bully Uzi for a whole week.

-

**V:** J annoyed me today so I told them that I can’t wait to see what they have planned for our special day tomorrow. 

**Uzi:** There is nothing special about tomorrow. 

**V:** But there is something special about watching the color leave their eyes as panic takes over.

-

**Lizzy, to Doll:** You wanna fight? All right, let’s take this outside. The stars are so bright tonight and the moon looks so nice. Here, hold my hand—

-

**Doll:** Не могу поверить, что в моем свидетельстве о рождении написано Ф… (I can’t believe my birth certificate says F... )

**Doll:** ...Как я не родился? (...How did I fail being born?)

-

**Uzi:** *About to do something incredibly stupid* 

**N:** I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

-

**Doll, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl:** Я убил парня, и мне это понравилось- (I killed a guy, and I liked it- )

**Lizzy, whispering:** Should we call the exorcist? 

**Uzi, also singing:** The taste of his cherry chapstick. 

**V, appalled:** Call the exorcist.

-

**Uzi:** Guys… the principal just called— 

**Rebecca:** It was Lizzy! 

**Lizzy:** It was Braiden! 

**Braiden:** It was Thad! 

**Thad:** It was me!

-

**Uzi:** I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, or malewife our way out of it this time. 

**V:** *cracks knuckles* Manslaughter it is!

-

**J:** You ever see something that changes your life and you're just like "Huh.." 

**V:** I saw you. 

**J:** Honestly that's so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture of Tessa in a turkey costume.

-

**N:** Remember! Curiosity killed the cat! 

**V:** Yes, but you forget that satisfaction brought it back. So yes, Lizzy, go find out if that thing can catch fire! 

**N:** You're a bad influence. 

**V:** And you don't know your sayings.

-

**Uzi:** Is stabbing someone immoral? 

**Lizzy:** Not if they consent to it. 

**V:** Depends on who you’re stabbing. 

**N:** YES??!!?

-

**V:** The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

-

**Doll:** Хотите чего-нибудь выпить? (Would you like something to drink?) *They open the fridge* У нас есть вода, молоко, сок, тараканы, Доктор Пеппер- (We have water, milk, juice, cockroaches, Dr. Pepper-)

**Lizzy:** Cockroaches? 

**Doll:** Тараканы это тогда. (Cockroaches it is then.) 

**Lizzy:** No, that wasn’t- 

*But they were already pouring them a brimming glass of cockroaches*

-

**V:** How long do you think it'll take? 

**J:** I don’t know, three or four. 

**Uzi:** Three or four what? Days? Weeks? Months? 

**V:** Yeah, maybe five. 

**Uzi:** Five what?!

-

*J Driving and taking V and N along for the ride* 

**N:** That's a pothole. To the left! 

**J:** Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole* 

**V, sticking their face into the front over the center console:** Cha Cha real smooth. 

**J:** I don't think that's how the song goes. 

**N, crying and gripping the handle:** Please just take me home. 

**J:** Country Roads. 

**V:** To the place. 

**J and V in unison:** I Belong! 

**N, crying harder:** What the fuck?

-

*J and V are in a mirror maze* 

**J, seeing V:** C'mon, you got it! Almost through! 

**V:** Oh! I see you! *runs straight into a mirror, shattering it* 

**J:** *Cries laughing*

-

*Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’* 

**Lizzy:** I love me too.

**V:** Oh no. 

**N:** *cries* I love you too. 

**Uzi:** Sounds fake, but okay. 

**J:** *A flustered mess* 

**Thad:** Can I get a refund?

-

**V:** It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

-

**Doll:** Я думаю, мой ангел-хранитель пьет. (I think my guardian angel drinks.)

-

**Thad:** Hey, Lizzy? Can I get some dating advice? 

**Lizzy:** Just because I'm with Doll doesn't mean I know how I did it.

-

**N:** There is no i in happyness… 

**J:** There is if you fucking spell it right.

-

**Uzi:** We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at V’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!

-

**Lizzy:** Would you take a bullet for me? 

**Doll:** …да? (...yes?) 

*Uzi angrily bursts into the room* 

**Lizzy:** *running away* Great, thanks!

-

**N:** You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes. 

**V, stirring their coffee:** I prefer it with salt.

-

**Uzi:** Are you okay? 

**N, crying:** Yeah, it was just the onions. 

**Uzi:** *Picks up an onion* What the fuck did you say to N?

-

**Thad:** Do you support gay rights? 

**Doll:** Я буквально гей. (I’m literally gay.) 

**Uzi:** They’re avoiding the question!

-

**N:** Oh, fiddlesticks! That really ruffles my feathers! 

**V:** Please, just say fuck.

-

**Lizzy:** Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie- 

**Thad:** Eyy, homie! 

**Uzi:** But then there's cootie... 

**J:** Die.

-

**Uzi:** Isn’t it weird that we can’t ride any other animal except horses? Like if horses weren’t a thing, drones would be fucked cause we couldn’t ride any other animals. Like riding animals wouldn’t really be a thing. We should probably be more grateful to horses. 

**V:** Elephants. 

**Uzi:** Blocked. 

**J:** Camels. 

**Uzi:** Extra blocked. 

**N:** Donkeys. 

**Uzi:** Ultra blocked. 

**Lizzy:** That dick. 

**Uzi:** ...Followed.

-

**N:** Everyone thinks I'm this soft cute drone but I'm not! 

**V:** N, you cried for an hour after stepping on a bug yesterday. 

**N:** It had feelings! It was probably going home to dinner and I killed it! 

**J:** ...It was a bug. 

**N:** It was a BEETLE, and its wife is definitely worried sick, wondering where it is, and I really don't get why you all think I'm so sentimental because I'm not! 

**V:** ... 

**J:** ... 

**N:** Stop looking at me like that!

-

**Uzi:** I feel like the world would be better if I'd never been born. 

**J:** Aw... that's not true. 

**J:** It'd be exactly the same. 

**J:** You're not important.

-

**V, admiring a sleeping J:** You’re so cute. 

**J, sleepily:** I could beat your ass. 

**V, lovingly:** I know.

-

**Lizzy:** I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation. 

**Thad:** Yeah! We’re cowards!

**Lizzy**: Thad- no.

-

**V:** Stay foxy. 

**J:** Die lonely.

-

**Lizzy, filling out legal paperwork:** Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB? 

**V:** Bold of you to assume I was born at all. 

**J:** I personally was created in a lab. 

**Uzi:** I just straight up spawned lol.

-

**V:** Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. 

**V:** Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

-

**Lizzy:** *Pulls a glass of water from out of nowhere* 

**Doll:** Где ты достала это? (Where did you get that?)

**Lizzy:** My pocket. 

**Doll:** Как держать стакан воды в кармане? (How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?)

**Lizzy:** Skills.

-

**Lizzy:** How are you today? 

**Doll:** Пожалуйста, не заставляй меня думать о своей жизни. (Please don’t make me think about my life.)

-

Here’s a bunch of shipping ones that I got:

-

**Uzi:** My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful, and organized. 

**N:** *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely* 

**Uzi:** That one. I want that one.

-

**Uzi:** Hey, J, are you free on Friday? Like around eight? 

**J:** uh. Yeah. why.

**Uzi:** And you, V? 

**V:** Umm... yes? 

**Uzi:** Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date! 

**V:** Did she just-

-

**N:** Are you ready to commit? 

**Uzi:** Like a crime or a relationship?

-

**N:** Crushes are the worst. Whenever I’m near mine, I start acting stupid. 

**Uzi:** You always act stupid. 

**Uzi:** 

**Uzi:** Wait...

-

**J:** Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash. 

**V:** Oh. We're going out? 

**J:** Wh...

-

**V:** I want to kiss you. 

**J, not paying attention:** What? 

**V:** I said if you die, I won't miss you.

-

**J:** Ugh, crushes are so dumb. 

**V:** I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting crazy. 

**J:** But you’re always acting crazy? 

**V:** ... 

**V:** Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

-

**Doll:** Кем ты хочешь быть на Хэллоуин? (What do you want to be for Halloween?)

**Lizzy:** Yours. 

**Doll:** …

**Doll:** …да, это было бы довольно страшно. (…yeah, that would be pretty scary.)

-

End of MAJOR shipping section

-

**Thad:** I was arrested for being too cool. 

**Lizzy:** The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

-

**J, when V walks in:** Oh, hey, I'm just storing oil. 

**J:** *“accidentally” smacks N in the face with a worker’s arm*

-

**N:** Anyone wanna play cards?

**J:**Sure, anyone have any poker chips?

**Uzi:** Plus four. 

**Thad:** Pikachu, I choose you

**V:** Go fish.

**N:** I meant rummy-

**Random worker drone:** It's gin rummy.

-

**Uzi:** We’ve got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without

**J:** N, probably.

-

**J:** I'm sorry please talk to me

**V:**

**J:** Hello? World’s most amazing drone? Sweet Pea? Company assigned partner?

**V:** Don't sweet pea me you stole my bubbles.

-

**J:** I'm not doing too well.

**V:** Are you okay?

**J:** I have this headache that comes and goes

**N:** *enters the room*

**J:** There it is again!

-

**J:** I CAN'T DO IT!

**V, laughing:** I CAN'T EITHER!

**J:** I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

**N:** WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

**J:**

**J:** I appreciate it,

**J:** BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

**Doll:** J-

**J:** YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

**Lizzy:** J we gotta-

**J:** YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

**J:** YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

**J, motioning to Uzi:** NOT FUCKING THIS

-

'Can I copy the homework?'

**N:** I can help you with it!

**Uzi:** Yeah, sure.

**V:** Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

**J:** lol nope.

**Lizzy:** We had homework?

**Doll:** *Read 5:55pm*

-

**J:** We need to distract these guys **V:** Leave it to me **V:** Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. **Thad, Uzi, and Lizzy:** *Immediately begin arguing* **N, watching in horror:** Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

-

**V:** Time for plan G. **J:** Don’t you mean plan B? **V:** No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. **Uzi:** What about plan D? **V:** Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. **N:** What about plan E? **V:** I’m hoping not to use it. J dies in plan E. **Uzi:** I like plan E.

-

**J:** If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. **N:** What if it bites me and it dies!? **V:** Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, N, learn to listen. **Uzi:** What if it bites itself and I die? **N:** That’s voodoo. **Lizzy:** What if it bites me and someone else dies? **J:** That’s correlation, not causation. **Uzi:** What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? **V:** That’s kinky. **J:** Oh my God.

-

OILROSE SECTION because im running out of ideas and i love them a lot

**J:** Here's some advice

**V:** I didn't ask for any

**J:** Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who talks to me

-

**V:** *Stabs their leg with tail* FUCK!

**J:** Language!

**V:** What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”???

**J:**

**V:** You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

-

*J:* You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

**V, drinking toast:** Why do you say that?

-

**V:** So are we flirting right now?

**J:** I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU??

**V:** That doesn’t answer my question.

-

**V:** Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

**J:** You and me.

**V, tearing up:** Okay.

-

**V:** .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- (I’M SORRY)

**J:** What's that?

**V:** Remorse code.

**J:** I'm even angrier now.

-

**V:** Am I in trouble?

**J:** Take a guess.

**V:** No?

**J:** Take another guess.

-

**J, pointing:** May I sit there?

**V:** That's my lap

**J:** That doesn't answer my question, V.

-

**V:** English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.

**J:** You need to stop.

-

**J:** *Walking in to a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things.

*Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder*

**V:** *Out of breath* THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

-

**J:** I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are.

**V:** It’s not a joke.

**V:** *sniffles*

**V:** I’m a legit snack.

-

**J, addressing the squad:** And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

**V:** But – that’s just a trash can.

**J:** It sure is!

-

**J:** Remember when we didn't try to solve all our problems with attempted murder?

**V:** Stop romanticizing the past.

-

**V:** I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives

**J:** I wake up at 4:30 AM

**V:**

**V:** I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

-

**J:** V...

**V:** Oh no, 'V' in b-flat.

**V:** You're disappointed.

-

**J:** petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday

**V:** Wednesay

**J:** Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

-

**V:** You love me, right, J?

**J:** Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

-

*J and V skipping stones on a (frozen) lake*

**J:** It’s such a nice night..

**V, whispering:** Take that you fucking lake

-

**J:** You're right.

**V:** That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

END OF OILROSE SECTION :’( it was getting a bit too long

-

**J:** Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

**N:** >:O language

**Lizzy:** Yeah watch your fucking language

**V:** OKAY WHO TAUGHT LIZZY THE FUCK WORD?

**Uzi:** 'The fuck word'.

**Thad:** Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

**Lizzy:** Oh my god they censored it

**Uzi:** Say fuck, Thad.

**Lizzy:** Do it, Thad. Say fuck.

-

**V:** Rules are made to be broken.

**N:** They were made to be followed.Nothing is made to be broken.

**Thad:** Uh, piñatas.

**J:** Glow sticks.

**Uzi:** Karate boards.

**Lizzy:** Spaghetti when you have a small pot.

**V:** Rules.

**N:**

-

*The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one*

**J:** I will not let you down.

**Thad:** Sounds fun.

**V:** K.

**Uzi:** No, I'm fucking not.

**Lizzy:** Do I have to be?

**N:** Please god, I am so tired.

-

**Lizzy:** What are you talking about N? You love it here! 

**N:** I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome.

-

**Lizzy:** See, the problem is, V, you’re playing 3D chess. I’m playing 4D. 

**V:** I’m playing checkers. I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing.

-

**V:** I’m so tired. 

**Uzi:** Did you get to bed late? 

**V:** No. 

**Uzi:** Did you do something strenuous? 

**V:** No. 

**Uzi:** Then why are you tired? 

**V:** I’m alive. 

**Uzi:** Sounds exhausting.

-

**V:** You know, when I first met you I thought you were a real bitch. 

**J:** What changed your mind? 

**V:** Oh, I still think you're a bitch. I've just grown to like that about you.

-

**V:** Are you busy? 

**J:** Yes. 

**V:** Cool, listen to this...

Somebody stop me im decending into oilrose again

-

 *V recording whilst Lizzy and Uzi are arguing* 

**Lizzy:** HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO! 

**V:** *wheezes like a tea kettle* 

**J, pulling out a knife:** I'm gonna stab them both.

**Lizzy:** YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG? 

**Uzi:** It's my favorite movi- 

**Lizzy:** SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, UZI! 

**Uzi:** I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y- 

**Lizzy:** GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP!

-

**J:** Ugh, there’s always that weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder. 

**J:** *glares at N* 

**N:** Well, sorry I have morals!

-

*The Squad's cooking skills* 

**Doll:** *master chef* 

**Lizzy:** *knows a few recipes* 

**Thad:** *can follow instructions on a box* 

**Uzi:** *made toast once* 

**N:** *banned from the kitchen*

-

**Lizzy:** Why are you on fire? 

**V:** This is just how my day is going.

-

*Lizzy and Thad are texting* 

**Lizzy:** Who are you? Someone changed the names in my phone. 

**Thad:** What did they change my name to? 

**Lizzy:** Chosen One. 

**Thad:** Don’t change it back. 

**Lizzy:** BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?! 

**Thad:** I’m the chosen one.

-

**Lizzy:** In my defense, I was left unsupervised. 

**N:** Wasn’t V with you? 

**V:** In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

-

**Uzi:** Go to hell! 

**J:** Oh! I’ve been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.

**V, from far away:** Me too!

-

**Uzi:** Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

-

**Thad:** Valentines Day? I'm ready. *Sprays an entire can of AXE body spray on themselves*

-

**J:** If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, V!

*Neither of them dies*

**V:** …

**J:** …

**V:** So do you wanna talk about somethi-

**J:** No thank you.

-

**V:** J! I thought you were dead! 

**J:** No, just in deep cover. 

**V:** ...But it was an open casket. 

**J:** It was very deep.

-

**J:** V, I love you and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing? 

**Uzi, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that V is sitting atop:** Oh nothing much. 

**V:** I love you too :)

-

**Uzi:** Don’t mansplain this to me! 

**J:** Wh- I’m a woman! I can't mansplain anything to you! 

**Uzi:** …Well, I’m a feminist, and I believe a woman can do anything a man does!

-

**Lizzy:** Who the fuck- 

**N:** Language! 

**Lizzy:** Whom the fuck- 

**N:** No.

-

**Uzi:** Is J always like this when she loses? 

**V:** Oh, yes. You should've been there for the Great Jenga Tantrum of (year). 

**J:** YOU BUMPED THAT TABLE AND WE ALL KNOW IT.

-

**N, in a high voice, holding Barbie:** Hey, Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! 

**Uzi, in a deep voice, holding Ken:** Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids. 

**V:** What the fuck are you guys doing? 

**Uzi:** Playing systemic oppression.

-

**J:** Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! 

**V:** The mouth of a jellyfish is also an an*s. 

**J:** Stop.

-

**Lizzy:** ARE YOU- 

**Uzi:** Fucking. 

**Lizzy:** KIDDING ME?! YOU- 

**Uzi:** Fucking. 

**Lizzy:** IDIOT! 

**Thad:** …What was that? 

**Uzi:** V banned Lizzy from swearing, so I’m helping her out.

-

**Uzi:** I hate you with every inch of my body! 

**J:** That’s not a lot of inches.

-

**Lizzy:** You think you're smarter than everyone else. 

**J:** I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

-

**V:** I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows. 

**Uzi:** I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

-

**Tessa:** Its hard to resist, I'm really sorry- I mean, considering your approach so far, you had us tied here for- what? Hours? And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are! 

**Cyn:** What are you then? 

**Tessa:** I'm a Virgo! -fucking dies-

-

**Lizzy:** She's the girl of my dreams! 

**Thad:** You say every girl is the girl of your dreams. 

**Lizzy:** I have a lot of dreams.

-

**J:** Why am I the bad guy? 

**V:** I don't know, why am I the hot one? We all have our thing.

-

**N:** Do you always have to attack me with your words? 

**J:** Would you prefer me to use a brick?

-

**Thad:** Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely! 

**J:** With NAPALM.

-

**J:** Hey, wanna go hunt with me? 

**V:** You have a gun in your hand. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

-

**J:** The waiter at Olive Garden has been grating my cheese for 6 hours now, waiting for me to say when. Customers are screaming. Three people have died. 

**J:** I will not yield.

-

**Thad:** What’s it like being tall? 

**Uzi:** Is it nice? 

**Lizzy:** Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? 

**N:** We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

-

**V, trying to comfort J:** What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

-

**V:** I want to be like a caterpillar. 

**Uzi:** Explain. 

**V:** Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful. 

**N:** You know they have a lifespan of a week, right? 

**V:** 

**J:** That's just another highlight!

-

**Doll:** Выйди из моей комнаты (Get out of my room)

**V, standing in the doorway:** I’m not in your room.

-

**J:** You know, sometimes I really think I can be too straight. 

**V, covered in bi merch and sipping an iced oil:** Sucks to be you.

-

**J:** I don't know, it's not my cup of oil. 

**V:** Well then whose is it? 

**J, staring at a cup of oil:** I don't know!

-

**Doll:** Бро, мне приснилось, что мы поцеловал. (Bro, I had a dream we kissed.) 

**Lizzy:** Bro, relax it was just a dream. 

**Doll:** Ха, гей, я бы тебя не целовать. (Huh, gay, I wouldn’t kiss you.)

**Lizzy:** You wouldn’t? 

**Doll:** Я имею в виду, если ты не хочешь… (I mean, unless you want to-)

-

**Uzi:** This can’t get any worse. Can it? 

**J:** Sure it can - just give me a minute.

-

**Uzi:** Ew. What kind of tea is this? 

**J:** I boiled oil.

-

**V:** Guys, my friend here is bilingual. 

**J:** Yes. 

**V:** Which means they like both boys and girls. 

**J:** Ye- wait, what- 

**Uzi:** V, that's not what bilingual means- 

**V:** Shhh, it's okay J. I still love you, girl. 

**N and Uzi:** ... 

**V:** Full homo.

-

**Thad:** Hey do you wanna hang out this weekend? 

**Lizzy:** Generic excuse. 

**Thad:** I can’t believe you said that out loud, to my face. 

**Lizzy:** I can.

-

**N:** Aren’t you going to say “have a nice day?” 

**J:** I don’t care if you have a pulse, much less a nice day.

-

**V:** Truth or dare? 

**Lizzy:** Dare. 

**V:** I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room. 

**Lizzy:** Hey Uzi? 

**Uzi:** Yeah? 

**Lizzy:** Can you move? I'm trying to get to Doll.

-

OILROSE SECTION (again) im running out of ideas and i love them a lot

**J:** Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. 

**V:** Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

-

**V:** Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. 

**J:** Okay. 

**V:** And make out during the scary parts. 

**J:** Th- 

**J:** The scary parts. 

 **J:** Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

-

**V:** I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it. 

**J:** What- how? 

**V:** You’d be like “come with me to hunt… Mrs. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

-

**J:** *angrily presses V against a wall* WHERE'S MY JCJENSON PENS?! 

**V:** ... 

**V:** Are we about to kiss-

-

**J:** Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, V! 

**V:** You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

-

**V:** I love you. 

**J, not paying attention:** What was that? 

**V:** I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

-

**V:** You look good in that hoodie. 

**J:** You know where else I'd look good? 

**V, zero hesitation, without thinking:** My bed. 

**J, at the same time:** By your side- wait, what?

-

**V, throwing their head into J's lap:** Tell me I'm pretty! 

**J, lovingly stroking their hair:** You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

-

**J:** Do you love me? 

**V:** We’re literally married. 

**J:** Yeah, but as friends or—

-

**J:** That was so hot, V. 

**V:** I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. 

**J:** I'm so in love with you.

-

**V:** You got a date yet J? 

**J:** No... 

**V:** Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

-

**V:** *seductively takes off glasses* 

**V:** Wow... 

**J:** *blushes* Haha... what? 

**V:** You're really fucking blurry.

-

**J:** Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your girlfriend? 

**V:** Dude- Its satire! 

**J:** THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

-

**V:** Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? 

**J:** Peonies, why? 

**V:** 

**J:** Were you going to get me flowers? 

**V:** 

**J:** 

**V:** ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

-

**J:** BE A BETTER PERSON! 

**V:** WHY?! 

**J:** BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

-

**V, to J:** We had a date! 

**V:** *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

-

**V arguing with J:** HOW DO I LOVE YOU?

**J:** NO BUT YOU HA-... you- love me?

-

**J:** Goodnight to the love of my life, V, and fuck the rest of y'all.

-

**V:** If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

END OF OILROSE SECTION :’( it was getting a bit too long

**N:** If you got arrested what would be the charges? 

**Lizzy:** Theft. 

**Thad:** Disturbing the peace. 

**Uzi:** Aggravated assault. 

**J:** Arson. 

**V:** All of the above. In that order, probably.

-

**V:** I hate taking off my glasses, because without them, my vision goes from Full HD all the way down to buffering at 240p and I just can't handle that.

-

*V and J playing Minecraft* 

**V:** Oh no, oh no, oh no- 

**J:** What’s wrong? 

**V:** I did a thing. 

**J:** *You regret the thing you dID-* 

**V:** *screams* 

**J:** What the fuck did you do- *sees mass of aggravated Piglin* Damn it- 

**V:** *screams again*

-

**J:** If a demon possessed me, I’d just be like, “Okay, take it from here, good luck man.”

-

**Lizzy:** Ooh, I like your accent, where you from? 

**Random Drone:** I am Liberian. 

**Lizzy:** Oh, my bad. 

**Lizzy, whispering:** I like your accent, where you from?

-

**V:** Pfft, you should meet J, they're such a tsundere. 

**Lizzy:** They... they just stabbed you. 

**V:** So cute.

-

**N:** I think Uzi is in trouble. 

**V:** Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

-

**V:** I am going to cry. I’m going to cry until I can no longer physically cry anymore because all the oil in my body is gone and I die from overheating. 

**N:** Are you okay? 

**J:** Did you actually just ask them that?  Like, you need that to be answered otherwise you won’t know?

-

*in a group chat* 

**V:** First one to reply is gat. 

**V:** *gay 

**V:** Wait...

-

**V, day-dreaming:** When I see initials carved into a tree with a heart I think it’s so romantic. Two lovers on a date... one of them carrying a knife for some reason.

-

**N:** You don't know anything about me! 

**J:** I know EVERYTHING about you! You are an open book written for very dumb children!

-

**V:** *casually taking four stairs at a time* 

**Uzi, falling behind, taking two stairs at a time:** Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fu-

-

**Doll:** Эй, Лиззи, я нашел паука. Крутой пацан. Спасибо, что ели комаров. (Hey Lizzy, I found a spider. Cool little lad. Thanks for eating the mosquitos.)

**Doll:** О нет, куда это пропало? (Oh no, where did it go?)

**Lizzy:** DOLL WHAT THE FUCK?!

-

**V:** If you kill me, my teeth only have a 2% drop rate. 

**J:** What? 

**V:** Good luck.

-

**J:** Stressed. 

**V:** Depressed. 

**Uzi:** Possessed. 

**Doll:** Одержимый. (Obsessed.)

**Thad:** Impressed. 

**N:** Chicken breast. 

**Everyone:** ...What? 

**N:** I just wanted to join in.

-

**Uzi:** Do you take constructive criticism? 

**J:** No, only cash or credit.

-

**N:** So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon? 

**V:** We're chopsticks! 

**N:** Well... that's cute! 

**N:** Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly? 

**J:** No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

-

**N:** My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco. 

**Thad:** My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy. 

**Uzi:** My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance. 

**Lizzy:** My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

-

**Uzi:** What's wrong with you? 

**J:** Off the top of my head, I'd say low self-esteem, a lack of paternal affection, and a genetic predisposition for anxiety and depression.

-

**Uzi:** Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? 

**V:** Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. 

**N:** It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. 

**J:** Rock also defeats baby.

-

**Doll:** Я от природы смешной, потому что моя жизнь — это шутка. (I'm naturally funny because my life is a joke.)

-

**J, making coffee:** This is going to fix everything.

-

**V:** You know, Uzi, you are the sun in my life. 

**Uzi:** Why? Cause I'm smoking hot? 

**V:** Because it hurts my eyes looking at you.

-

**V:** I’m never donating oil ever again. 

**V:** The second you walk through the door, it’s just one invasive question after another! 

**V:** ‘Where did you get it?’ 'Why is it in a bucket?’ I mean, do you want it or not?

-

**Tessa:** If we lose, you’re out of the will. 

**V:** I was in the will?

-

**V:** How does one turn their emotions off? 

**Uzi:** Okay, so first go to settings. 

**Uzi:** I'm a fucking idiot, I thought that said emojis at first. 

**V:** No, I'm still willing to try this, go ahead. I'm at settings, what do I do next?

-

**Lizzy:** Okay, two person huddle. 

**Doll:** Невозможно ютиться вдвоём. Это просто объятия. (You can't huddle with two people. This is just a hug.)

-

**V:** Bye J! Bye Uzi! Bye Lizzy! Bye N! Bye J! 

**Uzi:** You said ‘bye J’ twice. 

**V:** I like J.

-

*The gang responding to being stabbed by a sword* 

**V:** Rude. 

**J:** That's fair. 

**Uzi:** Not again. 

**Lizzy:** Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?

-

**V:** Sometimes I get so caught up on being gay that I forget I’m actually bi.

-

**V:** I'm so tough, I'm on alert even when there's no danger!

**J:** V, that's PTSD.

-

**V:** Well please don’t let J do anything stupid… 

**Uzi:** Stupid by my standards or yours? 

**V:** 

**V:** Stupid by my mother’s standards. 

**Uzi:** Smart. J will live longer.

-

**J:** There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

-

**V:** I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

-

*The Squad is gathered in the living room for a meeting* 

**V:** *walks in and sits on J’s lap* 

**The Squad:** … 

**N:** Why are you sitting there? 

**V:** There were no free seats

**Uzi:** But we made sure there was enough room for- 

**J:** *hugs V tightly* There are no free seats.

-

**V, trying to impress J:** I re-initialized the entire command structure, retaining all programmed abilities but deleting the supplementary preference architecture. 

**N:** They turned it off and back on again!

-

**J:** Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up! 

**J:** Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

-

**Lizzy:** Truth or dare? 

**V:** Truth! 

**Lizzy:** Do you- 

**J:** I dare you to kiss me. 

**V:** *kisses J* 

**Lizzy, to Uzi:** They said “truth”, right?

-

Squad reactions to being called straight: 

**V:** The fuck, no I'm not. 

**J:** Excuse the hell out of you? 

**Lizzy:** Ding dong, you are wrong! 

**Thad:** Who told you that? And why did they lie? For i am bi.

**N:** What? 

**Doll:** *punches the person*

-

**Uzi:** At first I thought you were foolish and incompetent. 

**N:** My apologies for whatever misstep I may have taken to dispel that impression. It was an honest mistake, I swear.

-

**Doll:** You’re a horrible person! 

**V:** Maybe. But I’m rich and I’m pretty, so it doesn’t really matter.

-

**N:** Don't go to the pod. 

**V:** Why? 

**N:** I saw a spider. 

**V:** Well, did you kill it? 

**N:** It has 8 arms and I only have 2, it's not fair...

-

**V:** My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

-

[amateurasterism]

how you met him !

synopsis ; how strangers to lovers unfolds between you and the seventeen members.

pairing ; seventeen x gn!reader

notes ; fluff, strangers to lovers. tysm for all the love on the jeonghan fic!!<3 i may make some of these scenarios into actual fics idk

word count ; 2.7k (about 150-250 per member. i got kind of carried away for some lol)

choi seungcheol

getting stood up on a date was already bad enough, let alone the fact it was pouring rain and your dumbass didn’t think to bring an umbrella. you’re stranded three hours from home, soaking wet in front of the restaurant you just got stood up at when suddenly a car pulls up. the guy in the drivers seat is cute, so when he says his name is seungcheol and offers you a ride home, you can’t help but say yes and hop into the passengers seat, hoping he wasn’t some kind of kidnapper. luckily, he wasn’t, and drives you home safe. you figure the least you can do in payment of his soaked car is invite him over for dinner. sadly he has to leave after your impromptu date (that definitely made up for earlier), full of rosy cheeks and flirts, so you linger in your entryway and realize he forgot his coat that he lent you in the rain. hanging it up in a closet, you notice there’s a note in the pocket with his number on it, because of course you forgot to ask.

you’re a mess, ten minutes late for your daily cafe run before work. when you finally make it, beyond glad that you’re able to have your usual latte and croissant to fix your messy morning, you find a man standing at the register, about to buy the last of your usual croissant. panic spreads through your system as you see the cashier giving him the paper bag with the last croissant in it, running towards the man and explaining to him how it was your usual and you couldn’t function without it. you note his cup of coffee in his hand, jeonghan written on the side in sharpie. staring at you with the barest glint of mischief in his eyes, jeonghan buys it right in front of you with a mocking slide of his card through the card reader, only for him to then sit down at the closest table and beckon you over to sit at the chair across from him, the pastry already waiting for you at your offered seat.

joshua hong

joshua hong

mother’s day is just around the corner, which means joshua is getting flowers for his mom. this is his first time being back home for mothers day, so he will admit that walking into your florist shop has him a bit overwhelmed. of course you notice the cute guy who happened to stumble into your shop during the slower hours of the day, meaning it’s just you and him. you’ve been watching, a small smile on your face as he stares at the flowers draping the walls the shelves, occasionally touching one and taking a photo. he’s been at it for nearly ten minutes now, so you decide to help him, assuming the flowers are for his girlfriend and indirectly calling him cute (“i’m sure your girlfriend will appreciate anything, i mean, how could she not appreciate someone like you?”) he’s so quick to tells you the flowers are for his mom that you almost suspect it’s panic laid in his voice. at the end of the day, joshua ends up spending a lot of extra time at your florist shop as he stalled, just wanting to hear you talk about your passion for flowers. when he finally has to leave, he buys an extra bouquet of your favorite flowers and hands it to you with a note hidden inside one of the petals.

 wen junhui

today, you finally get to meet your co-star on the new romance drama you would be starring in. you decided to refrain from looking at his socials to give yourself a surprise, because why not? needless to say, you’re excited to see him, nearly bouncing on the couch of the meeting room. you find that you immediately regret decision when wen junhui walks through the doors because, fuck, you did not expect him to look like that. as if seeing him just standing there wasn’t enough to give you a heart attack, the universe decided to toy with you a little more. surely enough, you were not the slightest bit mentally prepared for the moment he walked to up to you and gave you the shyest, cutest, and somehow also hottest smile you’d ever seen. it did not help that his blonde bangs, perfectly outgrown to fall over his cheeks and tickle his neck and ears where you could see him turning pink. any words you could’ve thought to say dissolved on your tongue, and all you can manage to muster is “hi…” he lets out a chuckle that sounds better than your favorite song that makes you beam, and that pink tint you swear you’re imagining paints his cheeks even more. if only you knew his mutual panic, his mind scrambling on how to look cool but having the hardest time because how was he supposed to think straight when you were looking up at him with the most star struck look he’d ever seen. by the end of your months filming, the “i love yous” exchanged between your characters needed no acting behind them.

 kwon soonyoung

you’re filling in your free time by making money as a seat filler at award shows around south korea. your third gig is a kpop music awards show, which means you’re lucky enough to be paid to see talented groups perform and see idols receive awards live. currently, the lights on the stage are flashing bright hues of red and yellow as seventeen performs “hot”. to you, it was just another performance to watch until your eyes drift to a certain man who took center in the middle of the song and caught your attention since. you’re quick to notice how sharp yet fluid his dancing is, and for some reason you feel like you could watch him do it for hours. needless to say, you’re disappointed when seventeen wraps up their performance and disappears backstage. that is, until the thirteen empty seats next to you are suddenly filled five minutes later. you have the urge to pinch yourself in disbelief when the seat right next to you is filled by no other than the same cute guy you’d been eyeing during their performance. you look at his name tag that reads hoshi and debate on whether or not it would be awkward to strike conversation by congratulating him on his performance. but he makes the decision for you, and you wind up talking so much that you can’t help but feel a proud when seventeen wins the next award, and when he says his speech on the stage, he’s looking at you more than the actual award.

 jeon wonwoo

wonwoo and y/n. the biggest streamers on twitch, known to be side by side at the top of every leaderboard. the internet has a small theory that you two are definitely dating, but in truth, you two have never even seen one of each others streams before. when you are brought up for the fifth time in one of his streams, wonwoo finally gets curious enough to click on your channel after closing his stream. he might be going insane, but his heart definitely skipped a beat when he sees your little facecam at the top left corner of your latest stream. suddenly, he finds himself scrolling through all your social media accounts, something he’s never done to anyone before. let’s just say he’s a little more than excited when a message from you pops up on his screen, “so, when are we going to make those rumors true?”

 lee jihoon

going on a walk is jihoon’s favorite thing for getting lyrical inspiration, and today was no different. however, today he was having a particularly hard time gathering any words on his notes. that was until he suddenly heard a guitar in the distance. following the sounds, which he swears is one of the best melodies he’s heard, he stumbles across you sitting on a park bench strumming your guitar. there’s no tip hat laying around, meaning you’re not doing it for music, rather just for yourself. jihoon looks at you for a long while, a bit lost at the sight of you, then suddenly all those lost lyrics come running to the tip of his tongue, rushing to get out. there’s too much for his fingers and notes app to handle. you stop playing, and look up at him with a smile, beckoning him over and teasing him for staring. “i can see you staring, you know.”

 lee dokyeom

dokyeom wishes he could have a dog. so bad. but because of his idol life, he finds it unattainable. and he knows better than to adopt a dog that deserves better living conditions then that of his busy schedule. so to fill that empty gap, he visits the dog park every once in a while. today, he is instantly greeted by a dog running off its owner’s hand with its leash tagging behind it as it tangles itself all over him with a heap of excited jumps and licks. dokyeom is all the more happy to greet the dog with the same energy, petting its excited body. soon you, the owner, come running to him with apologies on behalf of your dog. even though he doesn’t really mind, you insist on helping him untangle himself. somewhere along the way the tension shifts and you turn your neck slightly to your faces are a little too close. suddenly, despite just meeting you, all dokyeom can think about is a life like this. you, him, and your dog.

 kim mingyu

mingyu has a talent for photography, and all his friends know that. when your camera broke, a scheming jeon wonwoo, your close friend, tells you that his best friend mingyu can help you out. you and mingyu are a bit skeptical when wonwoo sets you up in mingyu’s living room and ditches right after (“sorry, i forgot i have a date today.” since when did wonwoo, a lazy twitch streamer who hasn’t touched grass in a year, have a girlfriend? you wonder), but when you walk in with your broken camera, mingyu’s worries disappear. kicking him out of the fantasies that popped into his head when he first saw you, you head streat to work and show him your broken camera. he figures out that he has to look through some of your previous photos to get to the root of the problem. by some magic, he stumbles across a photo of you—which by the way was gorgeous and might’ve made him swoon for a bit—and finds himself in the background. he’s confused as to why you choke on your glass of water when he points it out with a smile, but little does he know that you’ve been looking for him, the cute guy in the background of your photo, for quite some time. no wonder he looked familiar.

 xu minghao

minghao tells his friends that he goes to the same cafe every morning simply because “their food is good!” but only he really knows it’s because of you, the pretty cashier. he refuses to actually talk to you though (out of nerves), and opts for drawing you in his notebook everyday. he’s content with that, because for some reason he finds that he could spend hours just watching you and perfecting every feature on your face onto the rough pages of his beloved sketchbook. today though, he decides it’s time to make a move. it starts off as a normal morning; he’s drawing a portrait of you that he plans to leave on the table with a note when he leaves. what he doesn’t notice is that from the counter, you’ve taken note of your crush’s recurring glances from the seat at the front windows. he’s so immersed in making your portrait that is isn’t until the next time he looks up that he realizes you’re missing. he panics for a second, thinking his plan all when down in shambles, until he turns around and sees you looking over his shoulder at the portrait, the biggest and prettiest smile on your lips as you tease him, ignoring the butterflies in your chest that emerge when you see how spot on and gorgeous the portrait is. is that pretty girl in the portrait really how he sees you?

 boo seungkwan

the day you decide to go on a solo karaoke date with yourself is coincidentally the same day the karaoke bar is absolutely booked. so much so that you aren’t able to get your own booth, but are offered to share one with another person. boo seungkwan, the sign up sheet says. you accept, figuring it can’t be that bad, and fortunately you happen to be right. you step into the booth and are surprised to see a cute guy singing his heart out to “love dive” by ive. he’s even jumping a little and moving his hands along to the choreography; you can tell he knows it by heart. it’s endearing to stand and watch him having the time of his life, microphone chord slamming against the marble floor. a laugh you can’t suppress averts his attention from you to the screen, his face going pink at the sight of you. in the same moment, the tv displays his score as a whopping 48 which makes the two of you burst into laughter. he blames it on not being able to pronounce the english lines, and eases you into the booth by inviting you to a duet to boost his score. somehow, his funny facade from earlier has faded, and his vocal talent comes to shine in the love song you sing together. the lyrics feel a bit too real when you make eye contact during the song that lasts a little more than it should, and neither of you are truly surprised when the final score is 100.

 vernon chwe

vernon is back in new york, and is admittedly a bit lost. listen, it’s been a while. he’ll admit he got a bit too confident, reassuring his friends he didn’t need a ride home, but halfway through the walk he wound up in a street he doesn’t recall and has no idea which way to go. it doesn’t help that his phone is dead. but by some twist of fate, vernon turns a corner and slams into someone else. truthfully, it’s your fault, because you’re glued to your phone, too confident in yourself to really be paying attention because you had grown up in new york and the walk home was basically instinct for your legs at this point. both of you are profusely apologizing to each other, checking upon each other if you were both alright. luckily, nothing was ruined in the collision. except, maybe vernon’s ability to focus, because upon seeing you, every concern he had five seconds ago had vanished. you can see the lost expression in his eyes, and are more than willing to help this attractive guy to find his way back home. and maybe even tag along for dinner at his house too, as a thank you and possibly also because vernon decided that the thirty minutes you spent together looking for his house wasn’t enough for him. in fact, he decided that night that only forever would be enough between him and you.

 lee chan

you’ve just debuted as a background dancer for hybe, and your first gig is for seventeen in their upcoming awards performances. due to your recent recruit and a complication between background dancers, the performances are tomorrow and you’ve only been able to start practicing today. you’re an incredible dancer, which everyone in the practice room picked up the moment you started dancing, but you can’t pick up the last part of the choreography from your lack of practice and its level of difficulty. the practice just ended, jun, and soonyoung being the last ones to leave. they look at you and the only other person in the room as if to ask if you were leaving, but he just shakes his head. the two leave, leaving you and the guy you recognize as chan, alone. he approaches you and offers to teach you the part he’s noticed you can’t get a hang of, because of course he’d been staring at you since the moment you walked in. the moment you start practicing together, in the solitude of the empty practice room, the time goes by faster than ever and suddenly learning this part of the dance doesn’t seem so difficult anymore. especially when your private tutor was cute and was looking at you like that through the mirror.

one reblog = one stranger in your life that’ll turn into a lover

[3vergr3en]

It'll only hurt a little 🩹

(🔧) PAIRING . Dean Winchester x f!reader

(📞) A/N . guys, I'm back 🥳 ik y'all missed me !!

(🔦) ADDITIONAL INFO . in here, dean is a fean. he's disgustingly horny. mutual pinning between dean & reader! Reader cares a lot for Dean while he's too busy thinking about you in ways that only appear in his (wet) dreams.

A guttural hiss slips out the man's mouth as you (try to) gently tap some ointment onto a gash along his hairline. "Fuck." He tries to keep his hands at his sides, but it's tricky when you keep digging the cloth into his wound. "Can’t you be any gentler?" It's as if you want him to be in pain.

Okay, that may be your intention. Cause for a grown man like himself, he sure doesn't know how much of a child he really is.

"I don't know. Maybe once you stop being stupid." You shot back, emphasizing the last word with a poke to his head.

He winces, a hand snapping up to grip your wrist, halting you from doing any more poking. "Fuck! Can you stop that?" He demands, glaring up at you. "You could've died tonight, Dean," you state, yanking back your hand. "God knows what could’ve happened if Sam and I were five seconds late?" Upon receiving a lack of response, you could only sigh at him.

"You're really fucking stubborn sometimes, Dean. It's enough to get you killed! Just like tonight. Do you understand what I'm telling you-"

He wishes he could listen to you. He really does. And it pains him that he's not, you deserve to be taken seriously. And every other day, he would let you talk his ear off. But he's a man, and a man has urges—he tells himself. Sometimes those urges blinds a man of his decision-making, and right now, he can't decide whether he should respect your wishes and listen to what you have to say, or,,, bend you over the table and just fuck that little attitude out of you.

And right now, option 2 sounds more to his liking.

He knows you've been feeling a little frustrated. Like when you started averting your face when he tried his advances on you. Or how you'd give him a hard (😉) time during hunting by 'accidentally' grazing your ass against his groin whenever passing by. Perhaps you guys have been a bit deprived of each other. The countless nights when Dean had woken up with a raging hard-on or fisted his cock to you, who slept soundlessly beside him. He knows you've also missed him. You and him are so alike. It's why he has such a fond over you. And it's how he knows why you're doing this.

"You can't just be running into the middle of a fight, you can get seriously hurt." You dab some more ointment around the wound, carefully avoiding the cut. A strong, secure hold around your waist prevents you from moving away, "You care about me a lot, don'cha." He smirks almost cockily. fucking prick.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Hm, but I think I'll enjoy fucking you more."

Your breath hitches in your throat when he stands up, his broad frame towering over you. Your hands push against his firm chest, "Wait, Dean. What if Sam-" He capture your lips into a heated kiss, swallowing your words. But he pulls away momentarily to whisper against your lips, "He won't."

.

"Fuck, Dean!" You could only moan his name when he's pushing several inches into your cunt, thumb rubbing short, but fast circles on your puffy clit to help you stretch around his girth. His groans were so low, yet so arousing. Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the table tightens.

He chuckles through his teeth, "Has my girl missed my cock?" He emphasizes with a sharp thrust that has you reeling.

"Yes! my god, yes.."

He finds this so amusing. "So much that you had to go and act like a slut?"

You nod mindlessly, body twitching as the head of his cock prods at the opening of your cervix. He pulls you up with a hand around your throat, your bare back pressed against his chest. "Words, baby." He grunts deep into your ear as he rolls his hips.

His thrusts were precise, slamming into that one spot repeatedly. "Fuck, yes!" You mewl, pupils blown out wide that it nearly covers your iris. Your head hung low, swaying back and forth, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

Next thing you know, you're laying on a mattress with your knees pushed up to your chest, eyes glued down to the sight of Dean's cock disappearing in between your glistening folds. "Fuckin' pussy's made to take my cock." He curses, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"Fuck, you feel so-" He moans, hips stuttering against your ass, "you're gon' make me cum." It's almost too much for him to handle. Key word, almost. His head is spinning, like he's high off of you. You're addicting, why do you think he always wants to be inside you 24/7.

He feels you clamping down on him, a sensation that's all too familiar. "I can feel you squeezing me, princess. Why don't you come around my cock? Make a mess of yourself."

Just like that, your vision goes white as you succumb to your pleasure with a cry of Dean's name. And he follows immediately after you, spilling his seed all over your pretty cunt, painting it in white.

[xenon-demon]

only one (1) coherent thought in my skull right now and it’s domestic steddie with Steve washing Eddie’s hair after he’s discharged from hospital post-Vecna.

I’m imagining Eddie’s being discharged to Steve’s house, because Steve is but a simple man with a saviour complex (and also a crush on Eddie) so he’s letting Wayne and Eddie stay with him. Partly so they have somewhere to be while the government sorts out some new housing for them, but mostly because Eddie needs support for these first few weeks out of hospital and Wayne is away at work a lot. Having Steve around as well means Eddie won’t end up in a situation where he needs a hand but is stuck home alone for hours.

Eddie’s recovered enough for discharge but still requires a lot of physical therapy, and one of the things he still can’t do is raise his arms above his head. He can’t wash his hair pretty much at all, and while the nurses washed it for him in hospital, they didn’t do it frequently enough for Eddie’s standards. His hair has been driving him insane, as the limp, greasy feeling against his face, neck and scalp makes him want to claw his skin off. When he’s told how long it’s expected to take before his arms have full range of motion again, he makes a joke-that’s-not-really-a-joke about going back to his buzzcut days just to avoid dealing with the feeling.

Steve is horrified at the suggestion, and immediately offers to wash Eddie’s hair for him. He also divulges that part of the reason he styled his hair the way he did in high school was because he played a lot of sports, and couldn’t stand the feeling of sweaty hair against his neck and face. Sure, he genuinely did want his hair to look good, but styling it up so it was out of his face was an added bonus.

Eddie’s hair is driving him so crazy that he says yes, especially once he realises Steve might actually get where he’s coming from.

Cue an emotionally tense shower, where both Steve and Eddie are stripped down to their boxers because they don’t want to this fully clothed but they sure as fuck don’t want to do it naked, either. (Spoiler alert, they’d both actually love to have a naked shower together, they’re just both too nervous to bring that up at this stage!)

But then Eddie slips while in the shower, still unsteady on his feet and learning to adjust to his bad leg, so Steve makes an executive decision to switch over to the bath. After a bit of manoeuvring they find a comfortable position to do this; Eddie sitting in front of Steve in the bath, Steve’s legs stretched out either side of him. Between the physical intimacy of having your hair washed by someone else, and the way they don’t have to look at each other’s faces as they do this, they end up talking. They get a lot more personal than they were able to in hospital or during Spring Break, and it’s such a nice experience that they’ll each happily put up with the sensory hell of waterlogged boxers.

Eventually - after Eddie and Wayne have moved into their new place, but Eddie and Steve are over at each other’s houses often enough that they might as well still be living together - Eddie can move his arms enough to wash his hair on his own. He’s gotten more used to his bad leg and can stand long enough to even shower if he wants to. They go about three weeks with Eddie washing his own hair, both of them desperately missing this little routine they’d built but not wanting to admit it. One day, however, Eddie feels so lonely and so tired from physical therapy that day that he asks Steve to wash his hair for him. Steve accepts in a heartbeat, almost before Eddie’s even had time to say the words.

It feels different that time. The energy between them is charged, everything feeling more intimate somehow. It’s so palpable a difference that after Steve runs the conditioner through Eddie’s hair to let it sit for a few minutes, Eddie turns around in the bath to face Steve. He takes a breath, trying to steel his nerves, and asks: can I kiss you?

Steve doesn’t answer him; he thinks the way he leans in and slots his lips in between Eddie’s is answer enough.

[keravnous]

treat me like a s!ut ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 4 here

Tangerine comes home to you scrubbing the blood out of one of his button-downs in the bathtub. He always had a thing for seeing his favourite plaything on its knees.

word count: 9,5 k

warnings: spanking, fingering, oral (male receiving), cumshot, toys, bimbofication, housewife kink (that a thing??), mean/strict dom!tangerine (but he's actually a big softie), negotiated objectification, uh face slapping - once or twice, daddy kink, pet names, spit kink, size kink, name calling, multiple orgasms, edging, (heavy) squirting; this man is into some nasty shit - convince me otherwise, my feminism left my fucking body alright, the angry man™ makes my knees go weak

i listened to kim petras' slut pop ep and listen, it-, I-, so -, yeah. Lost control, I guess. I also saw the pictures of atj in a million little pieces and that didnt help much

thank you mel for encouraging me and thank you v for enduring me while writing this

You barely hear the door of the town house falling shut over the splashing of the water.

You are currently kneeling - very much to the protest of your upper back, which has been causing all sorts of pain during work at the office today - over the tub in your spacious bathroom, water still running into the already half-full, half-bloody bathtub. Your arms are wet up to your elbow from trying to scrub out some nasty and very resistant bloodstains out of one of Tangerine's shirts.

He had been in a nasty pub brawl after last week's West Ham victory and, knowing it was one of his favourite shirts, you had tried your best to get it clean. But even two rounds in the washing machine didn't do much. Thus, you decided to give it a good old handwash.

"Love?", you hear a familiar voice calling out and you huff with exhaustion, sinking back onto the heels of your feet.

"Yeah, I'm in the bathroom!", you answer and a moment later he appears in the opened door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

"What're ya doin' there?", Tangerine furrows his brows. He is wearing one of his suits, hair still neatly combed back like he hasn't been out for 8 hours, doing God knows what.

"Hand washing this shirt of yours, stains won't go out in the machine", you pull the fabric out of the tub, water slushing down. There's little improvement. You decide to rub a little harder.

Tangerine says nothing - just watches you, dressed in nothing but a big shirt and what he assumes are panties hiding underneath its hem; watches the way it scoots up every now and then when you scrub with more force, confirming his suspicions. It is a tiny light blue string made from fine lace, one, that he had bought for you a while ago.

He swallows, feeling himself growing hard in his slacks. It is not just the sight of you - even more so it's you doing this for him. Cleaning something up, that he had messed up.

Actually, he's thankful that you are going out of your way to clean up his clothes. He knows that it is a hell of a job to get blood out of any sort of fabric and he feels guilty for somehow putting you through it, especially since it is painfully obvious where the stains come from.

He knows it was your decision to stay - to stay with him - to keep up with the life he leads, and the job that brings in the tons of money keeping you afloat comfortably.

Still, he feels like making it up to you. There is something about you kneeling there, doing chores, that remembers him of something you had said to him a while ago. Something that now has his blood pumping, making him feel like he's about to burst.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?", you say, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead, a few drops of water running down your cheek.

"Get up, love."

You look up, eyes furrowing with confusion. "Why? I am nearly done with -"

"Wanna properly say Hello to my little housewife, me", there is a mischievous gleam in his eyes and it has your heartbeat picking up immediately.

You know what that means. You have been speaking about this: the idea of him coming home after a long, maybe even dangerous day and just taking you, bending you over the nearest surface because it pleased him - that the thought of him treating you like nothing more but an obedient housewife, cleaning up, keeping everything tidy and clean for him, and taking his cock whenever he pleased, made you wet. That the thought of being nothing more than a stupid little hole to him excited you.

The first time this particular thing had come up, had been after Tangerine returned home late after a delayed flight. You'd been up still, cooking him dinner. What was intended as nothing but a sweet gesture of adoration - knowing that he'll be both hungry and exhausted - turned into something else, after he had grabbed your hips from behind and bent you over the countertop for a quick fuck. It made something in your brain click, a new desire taking over your fantasies.

Now, you swallow, his shirt slowly sinking back into the soapy water - with its swirls of dried and darkened blood of some poor soul who was unlucky enough to meet your man on a particularly violentday - as you get up.

"You don't have to, you had a long day", you say softly.

"It's fine, lemme do this for ya", grabbing the nearest towel you dry off your arms and hands before coming closer to him. He stretches one hand out.

"C'mere", Tangerine smiles, all bright teeth and lines around his eyes and you do - taking his hand and then he pulls you against his firm chest, your hands resting on his shoulders. You inhale deeply, taking in his scent - wood, vanilla, orange - that wraps you in like a heavy blanket and you sigh.

"Don't burn yourself out over this fuckin' shirt, dove", he mumbles into your hair, arms wrapping around you, one hand confidently grabbing your ass cheek.

"I wasn't", your nose brushes over his throat, lips peppering gentle kisses to the soft skin. His hand firmly brushes over your tense shoulders, feeling the hardened tendons and both of you know that you are lying.

"Relax, love", he whispers, lips ghosting over your ear, "Let Daddy take care of ya."

And your body obeys to him as quickly as it always does: sinks against him, muscles going a little slack. You allow yourself to surrender to him fully, body going limp and mind going blank as you hand control over to him.

Tangerine's hand brushes through your hair, cups the back of your scalp and gives you a few gentle, patronizing strokes while one of his strong arms wraps around your waist, keeps you pressed against him upright.

"Y'good, love?", he says quietly and you release a satisfied hum.

"Words, poppet, be a good girl."

"Yeah -- yeah, I'm alright, keep going", you whisper against his chest, "Please."

The hand stroking your scalp vanishes, fingers brushing over your cheek and cupping your chin until it is lifting your head up. Your eyes meet his.

"So, what did I say?", Tangerine says sternly, gaze boring into yours.

You swallow, breath hitching a little and your chest heaves with it. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, your tummy tingling with want. The hand on your cheek is warm, the cold tingle of his rings on your skin grounding you.

"What did I say?”, he says again, squinting at you. It makes your knees buckle.

"N-never scrub without a brush", you whisper, lust making you choke on your words.

"Mhm, exactly", he hums, nods, "Then, why didn't ya do it?"

"Because --", you suck in air through parted lips, thighs rubbing together, eyelids fluttering, "Because I am stupid, stupid girl."

"That you are, m'little airhead", he says softly, voice growing deep, "And what do stupid little girls get?"

"Punished", you whisper, eyes glowing with excitement and stomach tingling with it just the same. You know, that he is not really mad and it sure does feel like a lot like it, making you bite your lower lip.

Tangerine nods again, thumb caressing your cheek. "Get on the bed, get naked - ya can still do that for me, can ya, silly? Or did ya little brain already leave your pretty head, there?"

You shake your head, fingers clinging into the expensive jacket of his suit as you stand up straight again, mind already a little hazy.

"Good", Tangerine nods slowly, eyes darting down to where your bodies meet. His hand leaves your cheek and you whine but it crawls down, one long finger hooking in the collar of your shirt and pulling it down. He tilts his head a little, as he's looking at your cleavage, tits pressed up nicely by his chest. You're not wearing a bra and he smiles - cold and cruel. "Get going, love, I wanna see what's mine."

You nod, swaying a little on your feet as you take a step back, arousal pooling in your abdomen. "Don't take too long", he says, gives your ass a lazy slap as you walk past him.

You do as you're told, carelessly dropping your shirt and panties on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, before climbing onto the soft mattress. Splaying out on your stomach with your feet dangling in the air you wait for him until he finally, finally enters the bedroom. He is still wearing his suit, only dropped his jacket, and is carrying a small pink bag. You know what's inside, stomach tingling at the thought.

Tangerine tosses it onto the bed and sits down next to you, hooks his slender index finger beneath your chin, guiding your head up. His thumb brushes over your lower lip and your jaw goes slack, tongue darting out and rubbing over it. He grins and pushes the digit in, has you obediently closing your lips around it, sucking on his thumb.

His other hand wanders up to his tie, loosens it and then carelessly drops it to the floor, pops open a few buttons of his shirt.

"Stupid lil' thing, hm", he hums, "Sucking on my thumb like it's my cock? That needy already?"

You nod nod nod, blinking up at him and his other hand cups your chin, keeps your head in place. Your tongue rubs over the pad of his thumb and Tangerine licks his lips, eye twitching a little. "Listen here", he bows down a little, voice nothing but a growl, "Ya gonna take what Daddy gives ya, y'hear me? If I wanna see your little cunt cum ten times, then that's what we're gonna do, 'lright?"

You nod around his thumb, excitement fluttering in your tummy but he just tsks at you. "Thought so -", pulling his thumb from your mouth he pats his thigh, "Time for your punishment, love. Only good girls get rewarded, don't they?"

"I wanna be a good girl", you whisper, as Tangerine deliberately and carefully rolls his sleeves up. Eagerly you crawl over his lap and then sink down, upper body on the mattress, hips on his thighs with your ass in the air. You can feel his already rock-hard dick pressing into your stomach and your whole body tingles with lust at the sensation.

"You wanna be a good girl?", Tangerine says, mocking your tone, as one large ringed hand grabs your ass, kneads the flesh, "D'you know what good girls do?"

Biting your lip you shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder, through your lashes. "They don't fuck up simple tasks."

"'M sorry, Daddy", you say cutely and he fucking growls at that, a dark shadow dancing over his blue eyes, turning them navy - into a stormy sea. Tangerine's hand rubs over your ass, the other presses down between your shoulder blades. The stretch in your back is delicious, and the way it presses one side of your face into the mattress has your head swimming, eyelids fluttering. "Legs together, dove", and you obey, pressing your thighs together, "There ya go. What d'ya think? Fifteen?"

You mewl, feet kicking with excitement, wetness pooling between your legs. "Want you to say it", Tangerine's hand plays with your ass, grabs one cheek and spreads it apart, thumb digging into the flesh and kneading it, "Go ahead and tell Daddy you want him to hit ya."

"Uuh", you mumble dumbly, heart racing and pussy already wet, and he scoffs at that meanly, "Wanna - Daddy, please - want you to hit me!"

"For?"

"F-for being a stupid girl."

"Atta girl", his hand gently strokes your ass cheek, "You'll get fifteen - no whinin', no yappin'."

"Y-yes", you nod, biting your lip in anticipation, readying yourself for the first hit. And he wastes no time, gives your ass a light squeeze and then his ringed hand comes down, hits your right cheek with a loud smack. You gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the tingling burn spreading through your backside.

The second and third hit follow, making you moaning quietly - warmth spreading on your skin, the slight burn tingling.

Tangerine watches your skin slowly turning into a soft pink and grabs a handful, thumb brushing over the forming bruise. He hums quietly to himself, hand wandering down, caressing your inner thigh - his rings are cold, bracelet rustling, and shivers run down your spine.

He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, hand wandering dangerously high and you hum, but it vanishes before being close enough to your cunt. The other hand on your back adds a little more pressure, and you gasp at the stretch.

"Such a pretty girl", he hums, bounces you on his legs a little, "What a shame you're so silly."

You whimper, hands aimlessly darting over the sheets. You want him to hit you again, with your ass already feeling a little sore and the way the slight pain runs straight to your core, makes your pussy so so wet.

"Can't even clean a fuckin' shirt", he tsks just as his hand comes down once more, two quick blows on your left and right cheek, has your ass jiggling with the force of it. He watches it, then grabs a handful and feels you up.

His thumb digs into the flesh close to your crack as he toys with your ass, and you can feel the way it spreads your folds apart. Your pussy is desperate for any sort of friction and you gasp as your clit throbs, rubbing your thighs together.

"Uuh-huh", is all that leaves your mouth dumbly, with his hard cock pressing against your stomach, hot and twitching through his slacks. It's hard to think, to form a coherent thought - all that's on your mind is his thick cock. "Daddy--", you gasp, rutting your hips down on his thigh, fresh wetness running down your legs and onto his trousers.

"Stop - fuckin' - movin'", each word lands another blow and you cry out, trying your best not to move on his lap, but the sharp pain has your hips jolting upward, shoots riiight into your cunt, hole clenching.

"Oh, you're really enjoying this, aren't ya, poppet?", Tangerine scoffs as you moan, your legs falling apart a little, "I can smell how wet you are, darlin'. Lemme see."

Your fingers claw into the sheets, wanting nothing more but the smallest touch. His large hand brushes over your ass, rings cold on your hot and reddening skin and then it dips between your cheeks, brushes down your crack and between your thighs.

"Fuckin' hell", he whispers as his index finger runs through your folds. He wasn't wrong - you are incredibly wet, thick watery slick makes his finger slip over your pussy smoothly as he assesses your arousal. Easily, he slips one ringed finger into you, bottoms it out. Your cunt clenches around it and he marvels at how tight you are, a trembling moan leaving your lips. It's not enough, you want him to fuck you - hard and fast - but it has your chest fluttering nonetheless.

The finger retreats as quickly as it entered you, circles your hole and thehand on your back crawls down, gives your left cheek a light pat that has you squirming.

"Nothing but a set of pretty holes f'me, aren't ya, love?", and you mewl, feet kicking a little as his fingers continue to run through your folds, his other hand now landing another blow on your ass. It stings nicely and you moan, desperately trying to roll your hips onto the finger rubbing lazy circles over your clit.

"D'ya want Daddy to put it back inside?", and you nod nod nod, but he just laughs.

"Words, silly, good girls use their words, don'they?", and you inhale a shaky breath, before lifting your head a little, looking over your shoulder.

Tangerine looks at you, one brow smugly cocked, and it's only the slight flush of his chest visible underneath the unbuttoned collar of his shirt that betrays him. That, and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

It makes your head swim, blinking up at him dumbly, lips falling agape a little. "Uhh", you breathe, "P-please--"

Tangerine lands another blow on your ass and you gasp loudly, followed by a desperate noise leaving your throat. "Words, slut."

You look up at him with big, watery eyes. "P-please", you say, voice shaking a little, "Finger m-me."

"There ya go", he says softly, finger abandoning your clit and pressing into your hole a moment later. He slips it in with ease, buries it deep inside of you and immediately starts to thrust it in and out.

"Yeah, wan'me to use you, eh love?", he fucks into you fast and deep, squelching sounds filling the air, "Want Daddy to stuff your pretty little hole, don't ya?"

"Y-yes", you plead, feeling his finger brushing over your walls, his golden ring against your hole. You can hear him hum and then his hand comes down for two more hits on your ass, has you clenching around his finger, moaning against the sheets.

Tangerine wastes no time, adds a second finger, stretches your tight hole out with the way he pushes them in, cold rings slipping in a little.

The sensation nearly has you going insane on the spot, rutting back on his fingers which earns you nothing more but another blow on your right cheek. "Keep on movin' and I tie you to a fuckin' chair for the rest of the day, whore", and you moan, hips stuttering and he pushes a third finger in.

Obscene squelching sounds of your hole being fucked and filled, of your slick wetting his fingers, emerge between your legs and you gasp as his digits brush over your favourite spot. Your loins ignite with it and your abdomen clenches, cunt squirting against the palm of his hand.

"Please, p-please - oh - fuck, fuck", you brabble, eyes tearing up and he tsks, shakes his head.

"Ah ah ah c'mon, words, love. Don't ya curse - you're too pretty to curse like Daddy always does, aren't ya? M'pretty lil' thing, eh?"

His hand comes down on your ass hard, has you gasping loudly, wincing in pain while his fingers continue to fuck you.

"One more, baby", and your hips buck, "Can my slut take one more?"

Tangerine's hand caresses your reddening ass, where a bruise in the form of his hand forms, an angry red and dark red where his rings hit your skin. His bracelet rustles and he grabs a handful, jiggles your left cheek. "Y-yes", you moan, his fingers rubbing your walls, making your legs tremble.

"Ready up", he says and you can hear him grin. Still, nothing can prepare you for how hard his hand comes down and how loud the blow echoes off the bedroom's walls, how the pain shoots through your ass and right between your legs, has you crying out with both: pain and pleasure.

Your walls contract around him as your lower belly contracts, squeezes his fingers and he knows what's about to happen, knows your body like his own.

"Don't you fuckin' cum, now", he says sternly, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, pushing your slick in and out in and out, and then in once more, as he nestles his fingers deeply in your tight and hot cunt halting any movement, "Be a good girl and hold it fo' Daddy."

Your muscles clench and your thighs contract, as you're giving your best to hold back your release, chest heaving as you moan into the mattress.

Tangerine leans down a little, his other hand wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Don't" - he whispers, the fingers inside of you start moving again, their pads very very slowly rubbing along your walls - "You" - his tongue darts out, licks over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling a little, "Cum now."

Your chest heaves with every ragged breath that you suck in, hips trembling and cunt squirting against his fingers, lust pulsating wildly through your loins and making your head swim as you are trying your best to just not cum. Tangerine chuckles lowly, gaze wandering over your body, taking in the way your legs tremble and feet kick - he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers and he really, really wants to get you on all fours and just bury his cock inside of you, fucking you senseless until you're a brabbling, drooling mess. His dick is so fucking hard, pressing against his slacks and it has him on the edge, the beast inside him tearing at the seams, but he knows better than to just act upon it, wants to make it better for you.

Tangerine watches the muscles is your legs and back relaxing over the passing minutes that you warm his fingers, walls and pussy growing plush and warm warm warm, as you hold him inside of you, breath slowing down a little with it, too.

"Mhm, there ya go", your hole flutters around his fingers as he pulls them out and you mewl, legs wobbly with your denied orgasm, cunt aching for just another small touch. You can feel it pulsating, your clit throbbing.

"Daddy", you whine helplessly, hips lifting a little, "N-need your cock." And he's gonna give it to you, feels like he's about to burst anyways.

"Shh shh", Tangerine coos, sticky hand rubbing over your sore ass, the slight pain igniting your lust even more, has fresh wetness pooling between your folds, "Good girls get rewarded, don'they?"

You nod frantically, thighs rubbing together. "Well," you can hear the grin forming on his face, "Get on your fuckin' knees, then."

Tangerine parts his thighs a little and you scramble from his lap hastily, sinking down between his spread legs. Your ass is sore and burns and as you sink on to your thighs you can feel the sting, eyes tearing up a little and you blink up at him - hands resting obediently on his knees.

"Look at ya", he whispers, a dark shadow dancing over his eyes, as he licks his lips.

Tangerine cups your face with both hands, carefully brushing a few loose strands from your cheeks and forehead. Your hands brush over his thighs, feeling his muscles twitch beneath the expensive fabric and then you lean in. You're all cock-drunk, needy and wanting with your cunt pulsing between your legs. Your tongue runs over the outline of his clothed dick, leaves a damp stripe behind and Tangerine groans, eyes growing even darker. "Fuckin' hell, you really need't be stuffed, huh", he watches you running your lips over his bulge and he feels like he's about to burst; creaming into his pants like he's fucking 16 and living on the streets again, watching some hooker giving a City man a gobby behind a dumpster.

"Stop it", Tangerine husks, grabs your hair, and yanks your head away, breath already a little ragged, "Fuckin' behave ya'self."

Your eyes gleam up at him and he grins, thumb brushing over your temple gently. "C'mon, get my dick out, will ya?"

You comply, fingers hastily fumbling open his belt and pulling down the zipper, opening the fly of his pants and yanking his satin boxers down.

Tangerine inhales sharply as his long and thick dick springs free against his abdomen, tip flushed pink and glistening with precum. Your mouth waters at the sight and he wants to drag it out, he really wants to, feel arousal pumping through his veins - gets high on it like only adrenaline usually does it for him.

But it's physically impossible - the way you're looking at his hard cock with watery, dopey eyes and flushes cheeks while kneeling in front of him naked has his boner fucking aching. "Fuckin' get to it already, slut."

And you do, one hand grabbing his dick at the base, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up to the tip, flicking your tongue over it and licking his precum up.

You love his cock, you really do. Nice and long and thick, cut and resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair. You love the way he fucks you with it, too, how it never misses the spot that has you seeing stars and white spots, how it feels like it has been made for your pussy and yours alone.

You love how it tastes, salty and musky, and you wrap your lips around its tip, resting it on your tongue - not sucking, not licking - just feeling and tasting his dick.

It's fucking huge anyways, looks like it too, wrapped in by your slender fingers. You close your eyes, tongue swirling around the tip before your close your lips around it, gently sucking while your hand strokes the base of his cock.

"Mh, that's how it's supposed t'be, ain't it, sugar?", he hums, hands brushing through your hair, "Me coming home to ya, my pretty little housewife, ready to please."

You hum around his cock, slowly letting him in deeper, tongue rubbing over the bottom while your lips suck. You can hear him breathe deeply and your gaze flicks up to him.

Tangerine looks down at you, eyes dark and shining with lust, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, his chest flushed. The look on his face makes you wet wet wet, wanting to please him.

You keep your eyes on him as you take more of his dick into your mouth, relaxing your jaw but still gagging a little as the tip grazes your throat. He chuckles meanly.

"C'mon love, you can do better than that, can't ya?", Tangerine fists your hair and you hallow your cheeks, your jaw going slack as you let him in further.

You want to be good for him - good girl good girl good girl - your body practically igniting with every little praise he grants you and you want to hear it again. Thus, you move your head around his cock, sucking him off, tongue rubbing over the bottom his dick.

Quickly, you are overdoing it, choking, and gagging around it, eyes tearing up as you hastily suck in a few breaths through your nose.

"Look at ya, all pretty tits and tight holes, but no fuckin' brain", Tangerine mocks, thumb stroking your cheekbone, rubbing over your temple, and then wandering through your hair, cupping the back of your head, "You look so pretty with my cock in ya mouth like that. Only thing you're good for, eh?"

He doesn't wait for you to regain your breath, rolls his hips once, holds your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth.

You relax your throat, letting him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of it. Still sucking in air through your nose your eyelids flutter, readying yourself for what you know is about to come.

Knowing him, you're not wrong as he starts to roll his hips again and again, groaning with the sensation of his dick burying itself deep in your throat.

Tangerine watches how his cock vanishes in your mouth, bulges your throat a little and he can't hold back anymore. His hand grabs your neck, thumb pressing against your scalp and starts to fuck into your mouth. "Fuckin' hell", he huffs, your spit slicking his cock as he slips in and out of your mouth.

You moan, sending vibrations through his cock that has it twitching in your throat, making your eyes tear up, gagging a little.

Being used by him like this has your heartbeat picking up, bruises on your ass still stinging and cunt throbbing and you rub your thighs together, hands clawing into his slacks.

"Yeah, that's it -- get's you all fuckin' wet choking on my big cock like that, dunnit?", it does, has you sputtering around the thick base, spit running down your chin, wetting his trimmed pubes.

Holding your head in place Tangerine fucks into your mouth, groaning and moaning occassionally, watches your chin turning wet with spit, eyes wet with tears - your thighs rubbing together. The way he ruts into you has his bracelet and chain rustling.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ", he groans and you can feel his thighs clenching underneath your touch, the muscles underneath his waistcoat hardening and his cock twitching, pulsating on your tongue. You know he's close and you ready up for --

Suddenly, Tangerine pulls his dick from your mouth - has you gasping for air - and takes your hand, the one still firmly resting on his thigh. He holds it in his and then wraps it around his cock, your hand resting beneath his on his dick as he starts to jerk himself off with it. His hand is so much larger than yours, cold jewellery hard and heavy against your fingers, that wrap delicately around his hard cock.

"Keep your eyes open 'n look at me", he rasps, and you can feel his dick twitch in your hand as your gazes lock and then he moans, deep and feral - thick, hot ropes of white cum shoot out of his cock onto your cheeks. He strokes himself through his orgasm with your hand, sucks in a sharp breath as he paints your face white, marks you up.

Your eyelids flutter as you try your best to keep them open, his cum missing your eye by mere millimetres.

Tangerine groans as the last bit of cum lands on your face, goosebumps raising on his skin. His dick slowly goes flaccid after he sucks in a few breaths. Looking at you, he grins, licks his lips.

His free hand brushes through your hair, keeps the strands out of his cum, gently stroking your forehead. "Put m'cock away, will ya?"

You comply, kitten licks cleaning the few droplets of cum from the tip and then his hand lets go of yours, allows you to carefully put him back into his boxers, pulling the zipper back up.

Watching your blown-out dark eyes and puffy lips, he sucks in another deep breath, cheeks reddened a little and the colour spreads down down down his throat, tints his chest in a pretty pink beneath his chest hair, vanishes underneath his unbuttoned shirt. "Y'wanna cum, too, hm silly?"

And you nod, nod, nod.

"Atta girl, jus' a second - we should get ya cleaned up, shouldn't we?"

Tangerine's slender fingers run through his cum plastered on your cheek, scooping some of it up before tapping your lips. You open up obediently and he wastes no time pushing them in, feeding you his cum like it's cream. "There ya go, lick 'em clean", and you do, tongue swirling around his fingers, before he pulls them out and moves them across your face, collecting some more of his cum until he is pushing them back into your opened mouth, "Least that ya clean up well."

You can feel your cheeks turning red, the taste of them mingling with his cum and the remaining taste of sucking him off, has you moaning around his fingers. "Maybe I should fuckin' cum on everything I want'ya to tidy up? Would you like that, whore?"

Your eyelids flutter, nodding like you are fucking possessed. "Yeah, bet you love that. House would be fuckin' spotless. Bet I could fuckin' shoot a load on the floor and you'd lick it up, huh?"

You hum around his fingers and his lips tilt up. "And what would you say then, hm?", his clean fingers, sticky with your saliva, slip from your mouth.

"T-thank you for keeping me busy", you croak.

"So ya do have manners after all", he mocks, looking genuinely amused and gives your cheek a light pat, rings connecting with your sticky skin, "Alright, get back on the bed. I ain't fuckin' done wit'ya."

Tangerine gets up, grabs your hand, and helps you back on your feet, watches your naked form as you crawl onto the mattress. He is still fully dressed and your whole fucking body tingles as you catch him staring, eyes roaming over your flushed backside, your plush and aching cunt resting firmly and exposed between your thighs as you kneel on all fours before rolling on your stomach. You bite your lower lip and - deciding to make a show out of it for him, to finally, finally get what you want and need - you stretch one leg out delicately, arching your back a little.

Tangerine huffs. You look so fucked-out, used, with your swollen lips and dark, lustful eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair a mess, nipples hard and cunt all puffy. But you can't help it - you feel like you're on fire, hands darting out for leverage as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him.

He kneels between your spread legs, the mattress dipping a little and his hands run over your thighs. You hum, gaze flicking over his strong arms, as one of his hands brushes higher, over your hip and waist, cups your tit and squeezes your nipple.

"Back to actin' like the whore you are, eh?", you squirm as he toys with your nipple, pleasure shooting through your body, fresh wetness pooling between your legs. His other hand brushes up your thigh and his fingers quickly dip between your legs, running through your slick. "C'mon, spread your legs f'me", following his command your knees fall to the side, giving his gaze way to your wet and aching cunt.

Tangerine licks his lips, giving your tit one last squeeze before running down your body, spreading your folds apart with both hands.

"Jesus Christ, you just have the prettiest cunt, don't ya?", Tangerine's thumbs stroke your outer labia, pulling them apart while he watches your cunt throb, hole fluttering open, wanton for his attention. "Wouldn't want to fuck another one, 's perfect."

He grabs the pink bag that had been laying discarded on the mattress and ziiips it open, reaches inside. You stomach tingles as he pulls your favourite vibrator out of it, tosses a bottle of lube onto the sheets. It is slightly curved and has just the right girth and length to be sufficient; you love to fuck yourself with it when he is away, having him cooing pretty things into your ear over the phone while he jerks himself off to your sweet sounds.

Your breath hitches and you watch his every move, cunt aching for any sort of friction and the unspoken promise of being fucked by him with the toy has you going a little dizzy. It's not quite like being fucked by his dick, but it's strong and usually leaves you with shaky legs.

Tangerine's gaze flicks over your face and a smug grin dances across his lips, one hand running over your thigh. "Y'gonna let Daddy have some fun with your cunt?", he brushes the toy over your sensitive clit and the cool silicone has your hips bucking immediately, "Wanna see ya come, such a pretty thing." You roll your hips onto the cold and quickly dampening toy, the friction being nice enough to make you moan quietly.

"P-please", you whisper, "T-turn it on."

Tangerine lifts an eyebrow. "You gotta speak up, whore, don't act like you still got cock in ya mouth."

His command has you blushing, eyelids fluttering. "C-can you", you swallow, speaking up a little, voice shaky, "Can you please turn it on?"

He scoffs, one hand grabbing your thigh. "Oh, of course. Why didn't you say that earlier, hm?"

And then, his thumb presses down onto the little button, has the vibrator coming to life in an instant, presses the tip down on your clit.

"Oh my god", you gasp, throwing your head back, hands grabbing the sheets. "Jus' me, love", he grins, licks his lips and presses the toy flatly onto your cunt. The vibrations are running through your abdomen, and you moan lewdly, grinding against it.

Your cunt pulsates and your clit throbs against it, mouth falling agape - moaning and panting in rhythm with your hips rolling onto the toy.

"Look at my silly little whore", he grabs your chin roughly, his gaze boring into yours as you look at him heavy-lidded, mouth slightly agape. Tangerine runs the vibrator through your folds and you arch your back into it. Squeezing some lube onto your cunt he is running the toy through it, until he decides it's slick enough and pushes it into your hole with one rough, quick stroke. Your hips buck with the sudden intrusion, the way you can feel it vibrating inside of you has you moaning, throwing your head back.

Tangerine gives you no time to assess to the feeling as he starts to immediately fuck you with it fast, obscene sounds filling the air as he pushes the toy in and out of you.

You gasp loudly, closing your eyes and fisting the sheets below you. Incoherent, dumb little sounds escape your throat as you moan and gasp, lips parted a little. The stimulation quickly becomes a lot, nearly too much, has your head falling to the side and eyes darting open, watching how his hand shoves the toy in and out of you. It's also not enough, had your stomach tingling and loins feeling they are on fucking fire, a strong pulling sensation in your lower belly that makes you feel like you might go insane.

"Daddy", you plead uselessly, clenching around the toy, "'S not enough."

"Ah, you poor thing - too bad", Tangerine tilts his head a little, smiles at you meanly, "You'll take it."

His hand abandons your chin and runs over your chest, roughly cupping your tit and giving a light slap before running back up up up, over your throat and then grabbing your chin again. Your gazes meet and something dances over his, dark and dangerous and you know that he is holding back just a little. And you know, that you don't want him to. Do it you mouth and his eyes fall shut for a split second, before opening up again, dark navy hazy with lust.

Your brain goes all foggy and swims with anticipation, as his hand vanishes. It comes back down on your cheek with a loud smack, throws your head to the side.

You moan like you are some cheap whore out of some fucking porno - high-pitched and loud -, throwing your head back with your hands grabbing the sheets hard as your body rocks down on the vibrator.

Tangerine scoffs at you - watches the way your slick mixes with the lube and spreads around the pink shaft - makes his fingers all sticky with it - shakes his head a little. "Needy fuckin' thing."

It's all too much and your legs fall shut, knees pressing together as your body tries both: to flee the immense stimulation and to embrace it, drown itself in it. But Tangerine is having none of it, grabs your knee forcefully and spreads your legs back apart, grabs your thigh and holds it down onto the matress. You whine, chest heaving and body shaking, has your tits bounce with it - his eyes follow the movement hungrily.

"'S too much", you whine, throwing your head to the side, eyes falling shut. You feel like you're on fire, toes curling and eyes rolling back, your cunt all plush and plump and throbbing and so so ready to fucking cum already but you just can't, it's just not enough.

"You'll take what I fuckin' give ya", and your whole body rocks with it, the pent-up pleasure running rampant through your body and you pull one knee up, angling your leg, feeling the toy gliding in deeper. You moan desperately, eyes watching how it drills into you, hips and legs starting to shake.

Tangerine grins at you, tilts his head a little. "Oh", he pouts at you playfully, cocks an eyebrow while his eyes gleam down at you, "Does she wanna come? Does she, yeah?"

His tongue kisses his teeth as his thumb flicks over the button on the vibrator. The sudden increase of the vibration has you gasping loudly, a very vocal Oh leaving your lips, followed by a high-pitched moan. One of your hands darts out and grabs the pillow above your head, giving you some more leverage to thrust down onto the toy.

You can feel the vibration of the toy pulsing through your whole lower body and it has you gasping with it.

"Yeah, that's it, innit?", his thumb presses down on your clit, rubs small circles and it has you coming loose, finally, a near scream ripping from your throat, shaking, and rocking onto his thumb and the vibrator. You squirt, wetting his arms and wrists, jewellery shining with your juices and the sheets get sticky and wet with it. Tangerine whistles lowly, watches how you come undone in front of him - tits bouncing and cheeks flushed - moaning and gasping, the ecstasy has your face in a near angelic expression.

And it gets him so fucking hard.

He knows that you will be ready for him again in no time, edging you leaves you wet and horny even after an orgasm and he just has to feel you now.

Tossing the toy onto the mattress, he runs a finger through your hot and sticks folds, has you whining and squirming. He feels you up, asses your slick and teases your hole for a short while, until sweet sweet moans replace your whining, until he can feel your clit throbbing beneath his finger.

"C'mon", Tangerine unbuckles his belt, "My stupid little whore has another one in her, don't she? One more f'Daddy?"

You whine, knees falling apart like you are his personal fucking sex doll, hole clenching around nothing. Your hands run over your tits, squeezing them while you watch him getting undressed - shredding the waistcoat first, followed by his tie and shirt and then his pants - one of them wanders down down down your body, lazily circles your clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hard dick that springs free as he tosses his boxers away, curving against his abdomen, the taste of it still on your tongue and your head swims with it.

"Don't ya fuckin' touch yourself", he swats your hand away and leans in, spits onto your hot and plush cunt, thumb immediately rubbing over your sensitive clit. Your legs shake, hips bucking and it takes only a few strokes of his finger for you to squirt again, adding fresh wetness to the sticky sheets below you. "No one touches you like I do, eh?", and you shake your head, eyes tearing up a little with lust, "Mh, thought so - not even yourself. Always need me to get ya off nice and proper, don't ya?"

He's right. Whenever he is gone and allows you to touch yourself over the phone you do come, but it's nowhere as good, toe-curling and le-shaking as it is when his tongue and fingers are on your cunt, dick buried deep deep inside of you. And thus, you nod -Yes yes yes escaping your lips like a chant.

He is so much taller, so much stronger than you - could snap your neck in a blink of an eye, rip your throat out with bare hands - and it has your head swimming while you watch him stroking himself, tip of his hard dick flushed pink and your brain practically shuts down fully at the sight. It tips you over, has your mind enter a foggy state and limbs going slack as subspace embraces you.

"You like that? You like being my slut, don't ya?"

"Y-yes, Daddy -- l-love it", you moan sweetly and then he looks up at you, lips curling into a crude smile.

Stretching his hand out towards you, he tilts his head a little. "Spit then, slut", and you do, leaning forward and spitting into his hand. Some of your saliva runs down your chin and he scoffs at that, wets his dick with your spit. You watch how he spreads your saliva around the flushed skin and your lips fall agape, a soft moan crawling from your throat. Your legs spread further, hands running over your thighs - up up up - spreading the lips of your cunt apart.

His gaze flicks up, watches how you expose yourself to him, practically offering him your hole, stretching it out for him. "Jesus Christ", he huffs, feels his heartbeat picking up and then he grabs your ankle forcefully, pulls you closer. You barely have any time processing him manhandling you as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushes in with one strong stroke, buries himself fully in your pussy.

He grabs your hands and pulls them away from your folds, carelessly drops them at the sides of you body, holds your hips up by your waist - watches the way you split on his dick while you gasp and pant.

His cock is so much bigger than the toy, longer and thicker and you gasp as he pushes in. The way your hole stretches around him is delicious, slight pain igniting your loins. No matter how often you take his dick, you are never fully used to it - the dull pain increased by a tenfold with your overstimulated and plush cunt, welcoming his cock home. "Ssh, there ya go, take it all", Tangerine coos, and you moan as his cock pushes in all the way, rests between your walls, hot and pulsating.

"Such a tight fuckin' cunt", he hisses, as you squeeze around him, while he starts to move slowly inside of you. Tangerine watches your lower belly bulging a little with his large cock, sees where it is fucking into you through your skin. One of his hands hooks around your knee, lifts your leg up a little, the other one gently caresses the small bulge in your lower stomach, feels himself beneath your skin.

Tangerine starts to roll his hips faster, angles his thrusts deeper as he looks at you, brows furrowed a little, hand cupping your lower stomach. You whine and mewl with the agonizingly slow way he pushes his cock into you, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches your face slowly coming apart, eyelids fluttering while you watch him fucking into you.

"You feel so fuckin' good, takin' me so well, eh", Tangerine's thrusts speed up, and your body slightly rocks with it, your hips meeting his. Your head falls to the side and you loose yourself into the way he fucks you - losing all track of time, your body going a little numb, feeling nothing more than his cock inside of you, his hands on your body.

"You fucking slut - fuckin' made to only please me", and you hum, a little drool gathering in the corner of your mouth, slooowly creeping out and dropping onto the mattress. Tangerine's gaze follows it hungrily and his eyelids flutter, while you look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Shit", he huffs, hips bucking into your hole wildly, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into them hard.

You are so fucking pretty to him, all fucked-out with your body obedient to him and your mind buried deep deep in subspace and a part of him wishes you'd never come back - staying in this blissful and stupid state, chasing nothing but pleasure and waiting for him at home, on your knees and offering your waiting holes to him.

And Tangerine can't stop his mind from going there, conjuring up the delicious image of you bend over the kitchen table in nothing but a tiny apron, cunt stuffed with some fucking toy, waiting for him to come home and take you. And that's what he'd do, drenched and dripping in blood, would leave red stains all over your soft skin when he grabs you, pushes his dick into your hot cunt.

It makes him moan, head falling forward a little, a few strands of hair coming loose. He has to hear you say it, feels his balls tensing at the thought. His eyes dart up at you through hooded eyes and dark lashes.

"Who d'ya fuckin' belong to?", he growls.

"'M all yours, fuck fuck fuck", sweet sweet moans fall from your lips and it has him going fucking feral. Tangerine moans deep in his throat, wraps one arm around your waist and with all his strength pulls you up, rests you on his muscular thighs. His shins are resting on the mattress as he hammers you down onto his dick and it has you seeing stars, the way his body presses against you, cock pushing into your hole deeper and deeper.

Desperate for any sort of leverage your arms wrap around his neck, fingers clawing at his shoulders while you turn into puddy in his arms, as he lifts your hips up and bounces you on his dick, manhandles you while you fuck yourself with it. Your tits bounce against his firm and sweaty chest, his breath tingles on your throat.

"There ya go", he grunts as you roll your hips, toes curling with the way the thick head of his dick brushes over the spot that has you seeing stars. You moan and gasp, head falling back as you rock onto him, chasing your release.

"D-daddy", you pant, breath hitching in your throat, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes. It's all too much but not enough and you need him to say it - need him to tell you that it's alright, that you're allowed to come. "'M gonna cum, p-please, I-I -- y-you", you whine incoherently, looking down and watching how his cock drills into you, your juices wetting his pubes and abdomen, running down your thighs, sounds of naked skin slapping onto each other filling the air.

There's a heavy pull in your loins and you gasp loudly, sweetly, hips stuttering.

Small tears of pent-up arousal run down your cheeks and he cups your face with one hand, leans in and licks them away, tongue gliding over your cheeks. "Shh shh", he murmurs, his dark blue eyes prettily framed by long lashes as they transfix your fucked-out gaze, "I'll let ya cum, love - whenever ya want, jus' let go."

"C-can't", you stutter, goosebumps on your skin as you gasp, fingers entangling his dark locks that curl right above his shoulders and pulling on them lightly. And that, that gets him fucking going.

Tangerine moans loudly, his cock twitching deep inside of you. He grabs your chin roughly, holds your head in place. "You fuckin' slut", he growls and you can't help but to tug again, completely out of it and unaware that it might have consequences for you - you just need to feel his cock twitch inside of you again.

It does, has you moaning, lips falling agape. "Fuckin' behave", he growls and then, in a blink of an eye, his hand leaves your chin and connects with your cheek with a loud smack, throwing your head to the side. It tips you over.

You squirt heavily around his cock as you cum, milking him, while rocking down on it and spreading your slick, making it shoot up and wet his abdomen, skin glistening with it. His trimmed pubic hair rubs your overstimulated clit and you release more wetness, obscene squelching sounds filling the air.

Tangerine's cock pulses inside of you as he comes, too, shoots thick ropes of hot cum into your cunt that seem endless while filling you up. You squeeze around him and you feel so so full, his cum already pooling at the base of his dick, pushing out of you, and mingling with your creamy release.

He roughly pushes you back onto the mattress, hands grabbing your knees and then he is rutting into you with near inhuman strength, fucking both of you through your cojoined orgasms. Tangerine's cum squelches in and out of you and you cry out as waves of pleasure roll through your body, makes your limbs tremble and squirt shooting against his dick, wetting his pubic hair and abdomen like you're a broken hose. You can feel it run down your legs, dripping down onto the sheets.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you cry out, shaking wildly and then everything goes white - your own body feeling far far away. Your limbs feel so so heavy but you also feel light, like flying, not a single thought remaining as you feel your orgasm running through your veins, making you shake with it.

It takes a while for your body to snap back out of it, slowly drifting back into reality. The first thing you feel, is a warm body pressing against your back.

"Are y'lright, love?", Tangerine whispers, strong hands running over your arms, your sides, your hip. Your body feels so, so heavy as your mind is slowly coming back.

"Yeah", you croak, throat sore and voice raspy.

"Don't ya move, dove - I'll get ya cleaned up", you turn your head and blink at him, still a little out of it and he smiles at you, presses a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead, his stache tingling a little, "You did so good for me, didn't ya? 'M so proud of ya."

You nod lazily, your hand brushing over his strong forearm. "Thank you, babe", you whisper quietly, all worn out and tired, "I really needed that."

"Mh, you're welcome, love."

***

It's the faint smell of coffee in the air that carefully tickles you awake the next morning. Outside the opened window birds are chirping.

The first thing you notice is, that your legs hurt. The second thing is, that the other side of the bed is empty.

You call out your lover's name, his actual, real name but there's no answer. Groaning, you get up, legs heavy and sore from last night, and walk out of the bedroom. You can hear water running and follow the noise.

"Babe?", you peek through the half-opened door of the bathroom. There he is - in all his glory, with no shirt on - freckles dusted over his back like stars, scars and tattoos on full display, a cigarette dangling from his mouth while he is hunched over the sink. His hair curls over his shoulders, a little damp from what you assume must have been a recent shower. The air is still a little damp, despite the opened window. You can hear water splashing.

"Mornin'", Tangerine says, puffs out a cloud of smoke.

"No smoking indoors", you sigh, suppressing a yawn and he chuckles at that, deep in his throat.

"'M sorry, love, won't happen again."

"We both know it will", your hands brush over his shoulders and then you lean against him. You inhale his scent, feel his warmth against your palms. The muscles in his back and shoulder are working, flexing beneath the skin and you close your eyes, feeling the way his body works beneath you. He is oddly alive like this and you hope that he'll be home for a long time, won't leave again soon.

"Why are you up already?", you mumble against his firm back.

"Wanted to wash the stains out", and he sounds so, so annoyed by it, "But it's no use - it's either gonna be the dry-cleaner's or the bin, innit?"

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins Pt2

I was asked to do a part 2. So here it is!

Since Finn getting shot, YNs brothers have been even more protective than normal. She's finding it harder to see her boyfriend since Tommy has basically put her on house arrest. YN had been sneaking out during the night to meet Isaiah under the bridge by the cut. Then one day Isaiah asked YN to marry him, she of course said yes, but there's no way her brothers would allow that. So they made the decision to run off, with the help of Finn since he's the only one not to try and control YN's life. Now they're returning home, YN hoping her brothers don't go mad and Isaiah hoping her brothers don't kill him.

"There they are" Finn smiles walking over to them as the get off the train "the happy couple. Welcome back" Finn envelopes his twin before shaking Isaiah's hand

"So how bad will it be?"

"Well Arthur probably will shout, Tommy might have both your heads and Ada well she'll find all of this hilarious" Finn says pulling away

"Looking forward to it" Isaiah sighs

"Just don't tell 'em that your havin a kid because I think that will give 'em a heart attack"

"Well I'm not not for a while"

"Good. You hear that Isaiah. I may approve of you and my sister but no babies us till your like 30" this makes Isaiah and I laugh.

We arrive at the Garrison where I know Finn has gathered everyone

"You ok?" Isaiah asks before we step foot into the pub

"Should be asking you that" I chuckle taking Isaiah's hand in mine "but yes. May as well get this over and done with" I take a deep breath and open the doors immediately seeing it empty apart from my family sat at a large table. Everyone looks at us walking in

"Where the fuck have you been YN?" Arthur yells slamming his drink down

"Let the girl sit down first" Ada says, I give her a little smile in reply. I drag Isaiah over to the table and take a seat next to Polly. Tommy just stares at me while Arthur drinks. Michael sits smoking a cigarette looking between Tommy and I

“So” tommy finally speaks “want to tell us where you were?”

“Errm ok so” I play with my ring nervously under the table “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would go mad”

“Spit it out” Arthur grunts

“Isaiah and I got married” I quickly say

“You bloody what?!” Arthur yells

“Finn did you know?”

“Yes, but Tom….”

“You went behind my back”

“I warned you Tommy. I told you Isaiah and I would get married one day with or without your permission”

“Are your pregnant?” Micheal asks

“No I’m not bloody pregnant”

“Then why marry so young”

“Maybe because they love each other” Ada says in my defence, but Tommy scoffs

“They’re kids”

“I’m 21 Tommy. I’m an adult I know what I’m doing” I yell at my brother

“No you don’t YN! What if he fucks another woman? What if he hurts you? He’s going to break your heart. Fuck YN I know what men his age do, hell men my age fuck around while married”

“Just ‘cause you all cheated on your wife’s doesn’t mean Isaiah will”

“Ok I think we need to calm down” aunt Polly tries

“No you know what this was a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed in London maybe I should have made you think I was dead because clearly you’d prefer that than me being married and happy!” I yell one last time “come on Is we’re going” I stand up pulling Isaiah with me. We begin walking out when Isaiah stops, turning around to face my brothers

“You know, I actually really love YN. I respect her as a person, she’s my equal and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and provide for her and hopefully our kids in the future. I know YN will want you all apart of that, but I guess it’s your choice” Isaiah places his arm around my waist as we walk out of the garrison

“Thank you Is”

“Always”

I groan getting out of bed after hearing multiple knocks on the door and Polly shouting for me. Isaiah and I have been staying with Polly before we try and find our own home. I wrap my dressing gown around my body and make my way downstairs when I see Tommy and Arthur stood at the door

“What do you want?” I ask folding my arms

“You were right” I raise my eyebrows at Tommy. He never apologises

“Continue”

“You told me you would marry him”

“We’re just worried about you” Arthur finally says “we don’t want you hurt. Your our little sister. The baby of the family”

“I’m not a baby anymore. Neither is Finn. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe but I can handle myself and now I have Isaiah, well I guess I’ve always had him. I’m happy and I promise if Isaiah ever does anything to hurt me I will tell you”

“Can we come in?” Tommy asks

“Best ask Poll. I’ll go and get dressed and get Isaiah up”

“Just promise me 1 thing… no babies yet. I don’t think I can handle that as well”

“Ok” I chuckle responding to Tommy.

[impishtubist]

seed moon fest snippets

Sometimes you just have to admit defeat and say that a story simply isn't going to be finished 😂 Anyway, here's my attempt at knocking Remus up for my own informal fest. It's nearly 3K words of unedited nonsense and unfinished scenes that was supposed to be a much longer fic that spanned all of OOTP.

Someone else with more brain cells than me should definitely knock Remus up during OOTP properly, as he deserves. Until then, enjoy this fragmented chaos:

---

September 1995

“We need to talk,” Remus says as he unwinds his scarf. 

“The last time you said that to me, you wanted a divorce.” Sirius helps him out of his cloak and hangs it on the rack. 

The corner of Remus’s mouth quirks. “Can’t exactly divorce you twice, can I?”

“I suppose not.” Sirius examines him. “You look a bit peaky.” 

“Yes, that’s what--”

“Lupin! Black!” Kingsley’s voice carries up the stairs. “Order meeting!” 

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Duty calls. You can divorce me again after the meeting.”

***

Dumbledore hands out assignments at the end of the meeting--guard duty for everyone except Sirius and Remus, as usual. Sirius is ordered to stay in the house, and Remus is assigned to another werewolf pack, this time in Poland. 

“No,” Remus says, and the whole room goes silent.

“Remus,” Dumbledore says after a moment, “you are the only member of the Order who is able to infiltrate the packs, and need I remind you of the importance of--”

“Yes, I’m aware of the importance of my missions,” Remus says dryly. “Given how successful they were in the first war, I understand why you want me to repeat them. The answer is still no. I will not be infiltrating any wolf packs for the foreseeable future, and Severus, I will no longer require Wolfsbane from you.” 

“Remus,” Sirius protests, “you can’t--” 

“I can,” Remus says forcefully. 

“But this is your health we’re talking about!” 

“Lupin’s no use to us if he won’t perform his missions as instructed,” Snape says. “Of course I’ll no longer be providing Wolfsbane to someone who refuses to make a contribution to the cause.”

“I don’t understand why,” Molly begins.

“Neither do I,” Sirius says. 

“Remus, if you could enlighten us--”

“Sonorus!” Remus shouts, pointing his wand at his stomach. 

A steady thud thud thud fills the room, and it takes Sirius several seconds to realize that the heartbeat isn’t Remus’s. 

“Oh, Merlin,” he breathes as eyes widen around the table. 

A flurry of emotions flash across Dumbledore’s face--anger, disappointment, resignation. He settles on grim. “You intend to keep the baby, then, Mr. Lupin?”

Remus flinches slightly, but he holds Dumbledore’s gaze. “Yes.” 

“Very well. Your services are indeed no longer required, and Severus will no longer provide you with Wolfsbane for the moon.”

“You can’t fucking do that!” Sirius shouts at Dumbledore. “Just because he’s physically unable to be your puppet-”

“It’s poisonous to the baby,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’s mouth snaps shut. “Wolfsbane, I mean. I can’t take it while I’m--while I’m pregnant.” 

***

Dumbledore ends the meeting after that. Thankfully sensing that Sirius and Remus have a lot to talk about, the rest of the members file out of the kitchen quickly, leaving them alone. 

“So,” Sirius says after a moment. “Is it, er--”

“Yes, Sirius,” Remus says tiredly. “It’s yours.” 

“Oh, good,” Sirius says, and then quickly adds, “Not that it would have been a problem if it wasn’t! Obviously, you were allowed to have a life these past thirteen years, and--” 

Remus kisses him. “Shut up.” 

“So, er, in June…”

“Yes. We could blame it on Dumbledore, really. He’s the one who sent you to me after the Task.” 

“Oh, Merlin.” Sirius passes a hand over his eyes, shaking with silent laughter. “That would go over well, after tonight.” 

Remus smiles briefly, but it quickly drops from his face. “I didn't mean to break the news like this, and I know I made the decision without even speaking to you, but--”

“Remus,” Sirius says, “it’s fine, really. I mean, Merlin, a baby. Of course I wasn’t expecting it, but I think it’s great.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s also insane. I’m still a convict who isn’t allowed to leave the most heavily-warded house in Britain, which also happens to be the headquarters for a secret organization fighting the darkest wizard of our time, and you’re a werewolf living through an era of unprecedented anti-lycanthropic legislation. This is madness, and yet, I’m thrilled.”

Remus bites his lip. “Can we do this?”

“Yes.” Sirius reaches for his hand. “We can do this. I used Crookshanks to access my vaults last year, and I can do it again. We won’t hurt for gold. This is the safest house in Britain, so you’ll move in here permanently. We’ll have nine months to make it, er, baby-proof, but yes we can do this. We will do this.”

“Six months.”

“What?”

“I’m twelve weeks along, so we have roughly six months to get everything ready, although the baby might decide to make an early appearance.” 

Sirius grins. “Six months it is. I like a challenge.”

“You’re taking this rather well.” 

Sirius shrugs. “Always wanted to have a baby with you.” 

“What?”

“If we raise the baby here, we’re taking Harry in as well,” Sirius goes on, as if he hadn’t just said something earth-shattering. “I’m not going to send him to his relatives for another summer, and then raise another child simply because they’re my blood.”

“I agree,” Remus says. “But you--want this? You’ve wanted this?” 

“Wouldn’t have gone about it like this, but yeah.” Sirius’s lips quirk. “Next time, we’ll do it after I clear my name and we’re living somewhere that isn’t a house full of dark objects.”

“What do you mean, next time?”

***

“Sirius, where’s Kreacher?”

“Hogwarts,” Sirius says, and Remus blinks at him. 

“Hogwarts?”

“I’m not having him in this house once the baby arrives.” Sirius resumes his scrubbing, though perhaps with more force than is called for. “I grew up with that elf, and I won’t have the baby do the same. I won’t put them through that.” 

“Oh, Sirius.”

“And I wasn’t going to behead him like my dear old mother would have, so sending him to work in the kitchens at Hogwarts seemed like the best solution.” 

“That was kind of you.”

***

“Well?” Remus asks, holding out his arms. “What do you think?”

Sirius circles him, examining the outfit.

“It’ll do,” he finally declares.

“It’ll do? I should hope so! This one alone costs more than I made in a year at Hogwarts.” Sirius had insisted on buying him a whole new wardrobe as soon as Remus started having difficulty fitting into his usual clothes. He’ll have to buy Remus new clothes every few weeks now as Remus increases in size, and doesn’t seem to see an issue with that.

***

December 1995

“Remus is still staying here,” Sirius says, “and, er, there’s something you should know before you see him.” 

Fred and George give him twin glares that could kill, and Sirius can’t blame them--their father might be dying, might be dead already, and Sirius wants to talk about one of their former professors? But Harry looks inquisitive, so Sirius plunges on. “He’s going to look a bit different when you see him. He’s, er, pregnant, and he's pretty far along."

“Pregnant!” Ron blurts, while everyone else stares at Sirius in shock.

“You’re the other father, then,” Ginny says, and she doesn’t sound surprised at all.

“Are you?” Harry demands.

“I am,” Sirius says. “It…wasn’t planned, to say the least.” 

Remus comes into the basement kitchen as Molly and Sirius are in the middle of making breakfast, and he does a double-take at the number of people who have appeared in the house overnight. 

“Fill Remus in, Harry, won’t you?” Sirius asks over his shoulder as he prods at the bacon. 

He listens as Harry recounts the events of the previous night. At the end, Harry adds, “And Sirius told us about the baby, so, er, congratulations, Professor.” 

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl, Professor?” Ginny asks. 

“No, we want it to be a surprise.”

Now that Arthur’s out of danger, his children are more than happy to pepper Remus with questions about the baby. He patiently answers all of them while they eat breakfast, and even lets Ginny feel the baby kick when she asks. They’re always more active after a meal.

After breakfast, the kids go off to nap, except for Harry, who lingers in the kitchen with Sirius and Remus.

“Where’s the baby going to stay after they’re born?”

“Here, with us,” Sirius says. “Remus has already moved in, and we’re turning one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery.” 

Harry nods. “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Harry,” Remus says gently. “There’s a place for you here, too.” 

“Oh, I didn’t mean--”

“I know you didn’t, but we want you to know that.” 

“I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys?”

“Dumbledore will want you to, and he’ll probably try to force you to go,” Sirius says. “If I have to kidnap you from Kings Cross myself, I will. We’re not letting you go back.” 

“As long as that’s alright with you, of course,” Remus says. “It won’t be easy, living with a newborn.” 

“Anything is better than the Dursleys,” Harry says fervently, and then he throws himself into Sirius’s arms. “Thank you.” 

***

Pregnancy seems to calm the wolf, a side effect Remus hadn’t been expecting. He still prefers moons where he can take Wolfsbane, but at least these transformations aren’t traumatic without it. He still sometimes dislocates a joint or breaks a bone during the transformation itself, but Sirius tells him that while he’s the wolf, all he does is nest and sleep. 

Moony has decided that the Black family library is the perfect place to build his nest, and he spends each moon gathering items from around the house and dragging them to the library. So far, he’s confiscated all the couch cushions, every blanket that had been moldering in a wardrobe, and three of Sirius’s cloaks.

***

Remus’s labor begins on a sunny Tuesday shortly after lunch, and he stays in early labor well into the night. He’s able to go about his day mostly as normal, despite the increasing discomfort.

That changes in the early hours of the morning, when he grips Sirius’s arm hard enough to bruise and grits out, “Get Molly.” 

Their birth plan isn’t much of one--they’ve been relying on Sirius’s years-old Healer training and whatever books they can lay their hands on. They can’t risk telling anyone about the baby who wasn’t at that initial Order meeting, not even Poppy. Molly has helped two wix friends through their own pregnancies, so she’s the closest thing to an obstetrician that they have. 

She helps keep Remus comfortable, checks to see how dilated he is, and coaches him on when to push. She makes sure Sirius is actively involved as well, and he’s the one to catch their son as Remus pushes him into the world. 

“Oh, fuck,” Remus wheezes as Sirius cradles the infant in his hands, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Oh, fuck, I am never doing that again.” 

The baby starts to wail in earnest, and Sirius laughs, giddy and relieved and so fucking terrified. Molly helps Remus with the after birth, and then Sirius lays the baby on his chest. 

“Still think he’s a Teddy?” Sirius asks softly while Remus cuddles the baby close. He presses his nose to the top of the baby’s head and breathes. 

“Yes,” Remus says finally. “He’s definitely a Teddy.” 

***

Harry knocks on McGonagall’s office door precisely at eight, and it swings open immediately.

“Mr. Potter, come in,” she says. “Have a seat.”

He sits in front of her desk, wondering what task she’ll assign him for detention tonight. Scrubbing all the toilets on the fifth floor with a toothbrush, probably. At least it won’t be lines with a blood quill, he thinks as he massages his hand absently. 

“I have a message for you,” McGonagall says.

“Right,” Harry says, blinking at her. A message? He’s here for detention. 

“Edward John Lupin-Black was born at five-thirty this morning. Professor Lupin is doing well, and your godfather is beside himself with happiness.” 

“Oh.” Harry blinks, absorbing this. “Remus had the baby?”

“He did,” McGonagall says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m sorry for the ruse, but serving you a detention seemed the best way to get this message to you. I was summoned to Headquarters for a meeting this afternoon, which is how I learned about the baby. Mr. Black also wanted me to convey to you that he’s looking forward to seeing you this summer, and that he loves you.” 

***

June 1996

The kitchen door bursts open and Sirius hurries in, his wand in one hand. He has a crying bundle in the crook of his other arm, and for a moment all the thoughts flee Harry’s brain.

“Harry? What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

“Teddy?” Harry blurts.

Sirius holsters his wand and kneels before the fire, adjusting the baby in his arms. For a moment, the sight of Harry’s floating head distracts the baby, and he stops his wailing. 

“Where are you Flooing from?”

“McGonagall’s office,” Harry says, jolted back to reality by the question. “Sirius, I thought--I saw--you were being tortured! Voldemort kidnapped you, and he was holding you somewhere, and--”

“Harry, breathe,” Sirius said. “It must have been another vision. I’m safe; we all are.” 

“My other visions have been real,” Harry says--hesitantly, because he wants to believe this is Sirius in front of him. “Mr. Weasley did get attacked, and that old man really did die.”

“I know,” Sirius says, “but we already know that Voldemort can get into your mind, and that Snape never completed your Legilimancy lessons. That means that Voldemort can plant visions in your head, ones that aren’t real and never happened.”

“Sirius?” Remus comes into the kitchen, knuckling sleep out of his eyes. He freezes when he sees Harry’s head in the fire. “What’s going on? Harry, are you alright?”

Harry explains the night’s events as quickly as he can. He doesn’t know how much longer he has before he’s discovered. 

“You should come through, Harry,” Remus says when he finishes. “If Voldemort is giving you visions at Hogwarts, you clearly aren’t safe there and there’s no point in you staying.” 

“But what if this isn’t real?” Harry demands. “What if this is the vision?”

“Voldemort doesn’t know about Teddy,” Remus says. “Unless you think Professor McGonagall is a spy, then we’re the only ones who know about the baby. This can’t be a vision that Voldemort has planted in your head, because you know details he doesn’t. This is real, Harry.”

Remus has a point, and none of his visions have ever been this vivid. Harry ducks back into McGonagall’s office for another handful of Floo powder, and then steps fully into the fireplace. 

“Hi,” Harry says, and he barely has the word out before Sirius engulfs him in a hug.

“Hi, Haz,” he says into Harry’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m sorry you were so worried.”

“It’s not your fault.” Harry pulls away. “Can I--”

“Of course.” Remus adjusts the bundle in his arms so Harry can see the baby. “Meet Teddy. Teddy, this is Harry. He’s going to be living here with us, too.” 

“Hi, Teddy,” Harry whispers. He reaches out a hand, and when no one stops him, touches Teddy’s cheek. “I’m--”

“You brother,” Sirius says, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This is your brother, Teddy.”

[imdoingsortagay]

In my morning glory

Summary: Waking up in Wanda's bed after an especially good night out in the city

a/n: Morning glory by Kehlani is so Milf!Wanda to me so here is this

word count : 700 words

It wasn't in the plan for you to stay over at Wanda's house for the night.

You respected your girlfriend's decision for that as she had to wait for her ex-husband to drop off the kids the next day. thought she was happy when he promised to drop them off on Monday afternoon instead of Sunday morning.

Was Wanda a bit nervous to let you stay over after a bit too much to drink from the two of you?

Yes

Was she also a bit excited nonetheless?

Yes

Now here the both of you were, at the entrance of her house a bit drunk. Wanda is more drunk than you are to calm her worries about this happening while you lovingly grab her waist.

“ need me to help you find your house keys, Wanda ?”

“ No,” Wanda mumbles,” m an intelligent girl, you stay there and be pretty “.

“ well I can be pretty and help you, baby,” you tell her and start to leave kisses all over her neck—a little motivation to get her to find her house keys quickly.

“Honey stop being a tease,” she grumbled a bit,” let me find my keys I told you to be there and be pretty for me”.

“Well, what if I wanna help my mommy out by incentivizing her to find them quicker ?”.

Right as you called her that name, wanda could not have found those keys quicker, opening the door quickly as she drags the both of you up to her room for some fun time.

“ How about you be pretty for mommy in another way honey?” Wanda tells you before she starts to undress you.

7 hours later

Wanda wakes up in her bed, having a massive headache from the night before and regretting even drinking one drink at the bar with you but she smiles a bit seeing you peacefully sleeping.

All she remembers as she sits in bed is going to the bar, getting home, and waking up. The redhead is a bit surprised when she sees you peacefully sleeping to the right of her.

Oh right, she forgot that you stayed over.

“ fuck fuck fuck,” she mumbles as she worries about how to get out of bed.

It had been a while since she'd slept with someone, having only done it once before marrying Vision and once right after they had divorced when Natasha had come over to comfort a broken-hearted Wanda from the tragic event in her life at the time.

Natasha had been very used to sharing a bed with the other redhead as she had done it back in the compound when the young woman had come back after the battle of sokovia.

Vision had been kind of an ass when it came to Wanda sleeping over so it took her a while to work up the courage to do this.

‘Just stay calm right now wanda, y/n is fast asleep ‘ She thinks to herself. 

It felt nice to have someone in her bed, forgetting the warmth of another person next to her during mornings like this. Wanda tries to calm her mind a bit more but the moment that she moves to see your sleeping body, all of her worries go away and she can’t help feeling all giddy inside.

“ I can’t believe that I got lucky and met you,” she says to you as she runs her hands over your face, happy to have met someone who can treat her like a goddess and makes her more confident in herself.

“ Wanda,” you mumble,” what time is it ?” 

“ 9 in the morning honey,” she tells you,” why ?” 

“ I’m gonna sleep some more after last night,” you pause,” can you come cuddle with me, if you can ? please?” 

Wanda’s heart skips a beat at hearing your morning voice, feeling herself get a bit soaked but ignoring that feeling as she scoops you into her arms, not wasting one second to give you all the cuddles in the world. 

“ You never have to ask to cuddle me honey bug,” she says as she leaves a kiss on your forehead,” I’m always here for that you know that”. 

“ you know you're the best girlfriend right ?” you tell her and don’t fail to catch her blushing a bit at your compliment. 

“ I know “.

Wanda had nothing to worry about, she had you in her arms sleeping peacefully, and grateful to have you in her life.

[johnslittlespoon]

So, I've reread TAS about 6 times, maybe. With every read through, the story somehow gets better. Anyway, I gotta know: when Gale chooses the horror movie before their first kiss, did he do it with the intention of scaring John into his arms? I remember that cliché from media growing up. The guy choosing the scary movie so that he can wrap his arms around the pretty girl.

You write Gale really well, and he's doing the whole "we're taking this at your pace" thing. So I want to know if the scary movie was a calculated decision.

Also, thank you SO MUCH for writing this story; it is my current obsession.

okay gonna get into some TAS gale pov asks bc i have a few >:) but SIX TIMES???? i will literally never ever be able to wrap my head around anyone rereading my stuff, it’s so mind boggling and it makes me a little (a lot) teary wtf :’)) <33 that’s actually insane LMAO thank u this is so so sweet 😭💗 ok buckle in bc i had a lot to say oops

tbh i definitely had that cliche in mind while writing it, like as soon as i decided they’d be watching a horror movie, i knew they’d have the cliche ‘hold me i’m scared’ moment, because it would be a good way to ease into the first kiss. however i don’t think it was fully intentional on gale’s end, because really, i think gale would’ve been happy to sit through like a three hour documentary if that’s what john had wanted lol.

so i don’t think he was swaying john one way or another, but he definitely had zero complaints about having an excuse to hold john when he got scared ;) and obv at that point, gale’s not dumb (and john is not subtle lmfao), so gale was probably 99.9% certain john had feelings for him, and he was giving john every opportunity to do something about that, since gale was so stubborn about giving john space to figure things out for himself and make the first move. :)

another rereader i cryyyy <333 thank you, would also run thru a brick wall for u 😭💖 YES gale’s pov very much interests me, i’ve got a whole section for it in what i call my TAS masterdoc lmfaoo. i have a stupid amount of oneshot ideas now in his/other character’s povs that i’d love to get to at some point!

but also hey ouch thanks for hurting my heart <3 😭 i do feel like there were probably a few “oh no” moments for gale after meeting john, like the classic ‘i’m fucked’ realizations, and i think seeing him smile properly for the first time would be one of those. john’s so caught up in his own head half the time that he probably didn’t notice the way gale stopped breathing the first time he was on the receiving end of his sunshine smile :’)

i genuinely think gale’s internal monologue during that moment would just be ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’ because really, what else can he do but fall head over heels? i’m sooo excited to dig into gale’s pov eventually, to get into how much he wrestled with himself and how he’d told himself never again after losing johnny, and then in walks this gangly, sweet, loud–mouthed college kid, and gale’s never been so happy to have his life turned upside down.

(john and gale actually do have a little bit of a conversation about this in ch11 because i couldn’t resist, but until that’s up, i leave you with the assurance that gale was smitten from day one and just trying to repress it for a multitude of reasons, but then the incident happened where gale saved him from the blind date, and it was all over from that moment on. the urge to protect john and to keep a smile on his face hasn’t left gale since that moment <3)

LOLL. definitely an admonishing “gaaaaale” moment. 

i’ve had so many questions in AO3 comments asking if i’ll write gale’s pov of the conversation he has with marge, and i 100% want to, it’s the first gale pov oneshot (aside from the smut i posted lol) i’m planning on writing for this fic. i’ll try to answer some of those other questions here just to keep them in one place:

i think marge definitely had her suspicions about gale’s feelings for john — she knows gale too well to not know when something’s up, but she also knows that gale comes to her about things on his own time, that she just has to be patient, it’s how he’s always been since they were kids. but there’s no way she wasn’t squinting at gale when she found out john had spent the weekend (multiple times) at his house.

the first time is one thing, because when gale explains that john had gotten wayyy too drunk and seemingly had some situation he didn’t want to go home to, she’d understand gale letting him crash at his. she sees how gale is with john at the beach after that, and it probably gets the wheels turning in her head, but she also knows gale to have a big heart and to be prone to taking strays in, so it could just be written off.

when she finds out that john’s been staying at gale’s every weekend after the incident with his mom, at the very least she had to have asked him who takes the couch just to watch gale squirm, which then confirmed her suspicions lol. after that it’s only a matter of time before gale spills it all to her, and her reaction will eventually be detailed in one of those gale pov oneshots :-)