#trying to warm up to digital!! its fun!

[not-equippedforthis]

some more brett holmes/general doodles <3

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Art block you say? *Throws my Tav at you but in a polite way*

Her name is Valentine and she's a cleric of Selune Shart romancer :3

She's so pretty!!!! Pink tieflings >>>>>>

[cjonesjr]

・﹒・﹒・ why are ya avoiding me? [1]

Summary: You avoided him at all costs because frankly, he was an asshole, doesn't mean he avoided you though. He constantly flirts with you but you just take it as him trying to anger you. It works, but you start to feel like he's being serious, and you have butterflies in your stomach just thinking about him. However, he finally confronts you one day, and you don't know what to do.

Warnings: 15+, suggestive remarks, pet names

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Series: Part 2

Notes: I'm not proud of this writing at all, but I'll keep it as it is for you guys!

It was a normal day at the digital circus, as normal as one day can be in this wacky place. The adventure-of-the-day just finished up and you purposely made it so you weren't close to Jax at all, but he kept slithering into your personal space like you haven't set clear boundaries. You hate him, simple as that, regardless of how many times Ragetha claims that you must have a crush on him. The audacity. Jax is a bitch, asshole, shithead, he was terrible to everyone, who could like someone like that?

Well, despite making your status clear on the relationship between you to, he didn't get the memo- no, no, he just didn't care. At every single chance he got, that bitchass rabbit would flirt with you. It frustrated you to no ends because he obviously was just doing it to get a rise out of you and it was working. Every time you got upset, he would smirk and call you "cute", it set you off even more. Even though his body (and everyone else's including your's) was just a fake, digital avatar, you still found him somewhat attractive.

I mean who could deny that he was cute? His voice didn't do him any favors either, but it didn't get rid of the fact that he was a bitch. Every time you blushed at his flirting (which was shamefully more than what you would have liked), he would get closer and tease you about it. Pomni made it abundantly clear that you two acted like a married couple, which is so far from the truth.

So why did it feel different this time? Zooble was talking to you about how they never liked going on Caine's "adventures" because they were stupid, which is fair considering he only did it just to keep us from going insane from boredom and abstracting, they always felt like something that would be in a game for little kids. You tried to pay attention to her, truly you did, but your gaze kept moving over to Jax as he was conversing with Pomni about something you couldn't hear. You shouldn't be staring at him so much, why were you?

"You gonna tell him?" Her question caught you off guard. Tell who what? You knew exactly what she was talking about, however you chose to play dumb even though it won't work.

"Uh what do you mean?" You ask, head turning to her, feigning innocence as she sighed and rubbed her nonexistent temple, grumbling.

"Don't be dumb Galka, you like him even though you say you hate him. Everyone knows, I mean you look at him like you love him" Love him? As if! Far from it, you hate him.

"But I uh...I don't! He really gets my nerves Zooble! He wants to piss me off because its fun! That's why he flirts so muuuuch!" You whine as you look over to the one in question, but this time he stared back at you. Eyes widening, you quickly turn back to Zooble, however, its too late as he's already saunter over here like he owns the place with his shit eating grin loud and clear on his stupid face.

"Well hello there Galka, looking adorable as always" Immediately, you felt your face warm he flirts with you yet again, refusing to look back at him.

"Leave me alone @@#@$, what part of "don't come near me" is hard to understand?"

"Oh I understand fully. I just wanna know oooone thing" His voice pissed you off, especially when he spoke in that tone, one that reeked of smugness. Yet, butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke, his presence made you flustered, why? Out of annoyance most likely, only reason.

"Why are ya avoiding me, Cutie?" There it is, the elephant in the room that you refused to address and that stupidly cliche nickname that you loved from him out of his dumbass mouth.

"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just...coincidentally not around when you are" Shamefully looking down at the floor so he didn't see your face, you knew it was a weak excuse but it was better than accepting fate and saying nothing. That didn't deter him in any way as his feet popped into your field of vision. Shit, he is right in front of you. His arm came into view as his hand sat under your chin, soon lifting it up to meet his gaze, smirk ever present.

"Yeah, sure, likely story. Wanna explain why you look like you're having very dirty thoughts right now? Are they about me?" His statement made you scoff and step back, waving your hands to separate from him. The AUDACITY, again why was everyone claiming you liked him? How could you want to be with this person when he said shit like that?

"Oh please! In your dreams #%#@$head" Turning around, you started to make your way to your room, it was a bit of a walk but you didn't mind it. Plans sometimes were never made to be followed through as Jax appeared yet again in front of you.

"C'mon let me walk you to ya room at least" How did he know you were heading there? God he never fails to ask to be punched in the grion.

"I don't think anything here is going to put me in any danger #%@$ Bunny, leave me alone" You spoke firmly, not wanting any slips to happen, voice strong as you walked with a purpose, pushing past him to the one place that Jax isn't present. Well...physically at least. Ok maybe you did have a feeeeww pictures of the rabbit in there, but it was to remind you how much you hate him, yeah that's it. Nobody else knew because you never let anyone enter and since nobody else had a key, it worked out.

"Oh are you sure sweet thing? Don't worry your secret is safe with me of-" He holds your shoulder to stop you before leaning in close your head "all those pictures you have of me"

[forsworned]

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head. 

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood.  From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference. 

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path. 

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation. 

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.  

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him. 

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection. 

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone. 

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch. 

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks. 

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing. 

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you. 

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps. 

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his. 

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it. 

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way.  He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky. 

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep. 

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking. 

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?” 

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face. 

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair. 

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip. 

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you. 

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine. 

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts. 

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.” 

--

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance. 

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months. 

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good. 

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way. 

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body. 

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts. 

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that. 

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can. 

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him. 

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough. 

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows. 

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy. 

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach. 

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you? 

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified. 

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away. 

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

[tyunni]

🦢̼ࣳ 10:36ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( you're just a warm body to hold , at night when i'm feeling all alone )

Genre (𝐈): heeseung x fem!reader , angst , exes 2 nothing. Warnings (𝐈𝐈): toxic relationship , y/n is overly obsessed with heeseung , mentions of somewhat making out? not properly proofread so there might be grammar mistakes ! Word Count (𝐈𝐈𝐈): 1k+;

𝒜uthors note: 2 may posts in a row is absolutely mind boggling! this is for @jlheon 's bea event, very fun to write! (i'm not quite sure if I'm past the due date, if i am just consider this a normal drabble! today is my last exam so i was busy all day yesterday ㅠㅠ)

Laying in your bed at 10:36 PM, your eyes brimmed to the top with hot tears that feel almost as heavy resting atop your bottom eyelashes as the feeling of your sinking heart is when you finally realize that love is, indeed, pain.

You think about him. He and his beautiful, round, chocolate eyes that once looked at you so curiously despite the bags under weighing them down, how his slanted nose turned red when the cold air hit his face, how soft he felt under your fingertips when you traced each and every one of his features. Back then you felt as though every dent and imperfection in your fingerprints fit perfectly against the texture of his skin, connecting like puzzle pieces every time you stopped the motion of your wrists and rested your palm against his cheek, your own curious eyes greedily taking in every little detail about the boy in front of you. His ravishing, charming smile that would make its way onto his face when he caught you admiring the shape of his lips was far too alluring for you to notice the slight twitch of his eyebrows, a saddened expression replacing the one of mischief and genuine desire of fun.

That’s all you were to him, fun. But to you, he was everything. The way he would smile against your skin, his big hands resting on the small of your back as his guidance towards his lap ended victoriously, with you situating yourself on his thighs and giggling at the ticklish feeling of his dark locks dancing against your sensitive neck. The thought of that, back when Heeseung was still yours, usually made your heart flutter and your knees go weak, but now that it’s nothing but a memory, the same butterflies that would roam around your stomach happily now gnaw at the enclosure and slowly climb up your throat, your palm swiftly slapping against your mouth to stop them from escaping. Dizziness and nausea came naturally after your mind would get flooded with the thoughts of Heeseung, you felt every symptom of food poisoning in the wake of swallowing Heeseung’s rotten heart with a proud smile on your face. You felt sick, love sick.

After an hour of laying in bed, trying to drown your sorrows with your own tears, you decide to call him. The past month you had had your ex, if you could even call him that, on dial almost every night, his warm embrace like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. Your shakey digits press against the numbers on your screen, and with just one click you were officially crawling right back to him. Heeseung decline your call, which means he’s on his way to you, again. You need him, again. He’ll come over and lull you to sleep with his soft touches, again. Next morning you’re going to wake up to an empty bed and pretend this never happened, again.

After a while you can hear the creaking of your door, indicating Heeseung has entered your room and has returned to you.

“y/n,” you feel your bed sink as he sits right beside your balled-up form, letting out a deep sigh at the all too familiar situation. “We can’t keep doing this, y/n.”

He had said those exact words the night before, and the night before that too, but this time it feels different. This time you know he’s right.

“I know…” your croaky voice seems to be only tugging at your own heartstrings this time, only you feel sorry for yourself. Sorry for the sad, depressing joke of a human you had become after corrupting and molding yourself into nothing but a heart that beats for another, lungs that breathe for someone else, and a mind that slaves away only thinking about one person.

Heeseung kicks his shoes off, climbing into your sheets, body facing you, “this is the last time, okay?” his finger finds its way under your chin, tilting it upwards for you to face him. You look into his eyes, you see nothing. It’s empty, he has lost all feelings for you, even the feeling of pity that you were so desperately clinging onto, disgusted with the shell of a person you had become in the process. You had lost him, completely this time.

“‘Kay…” you sigh, the breath you let out a mixture of relief and sadness as you sink into his arms and feel your skin bleed into his own for the last time. For once, you don’t melt under his touch, for the little warmth he secretly held for you has now completely evaporated and instead replaced itself with the ice-cold wall he had put up between you two despite your bodies remaining pressed up against each other.

He kisses the crown of your head, leaving a light peck on your forehead right after. “Goodnight, y/n…”

You look up at him slightly, The lovey-dovey nicknames he once called you had completely left his vocabulary tonight, instead your name fell past his once-red lips that seemed to have turned blue under the low illuminance of your nightlight. You feel alone, even with the one you desire right in front of you. His arms wrapped around you hold no weight to them, only your blanket keeping your body warm. Yet you still hold on. You clutch onto him dearly, sobbing into his chest, your hands that had the hem of his t-shirt balled up into a fist now roam around his back as you pull yourself impossibly closer to him, your lips find their way towards Heeseung’s to capture them for the last time, desperately swiping your tongue against his lower lip for him to let you in and dance his tongue against yours, but he doesn’t.

And now you know, you understand, that you’re holding onto a pale, ghostly, blue corpse.

You pull away from him after you feel his almost bony fingers gently stroke your hair. He shushes you, pulling you closer to him and humming a soft melody that can only be described as the requiem of your love, with no one but you to adorn yourself with the color black, cry and pray for it, and watch its casket get buried six feet underground.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you. 

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains. 

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sorry to bother ya again, but my brain is literally on overdrive with this show and this clown who hws beckme my first kin and lives in my head rent free as she quietly sits there with a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket like she deserves, buuut

What if the gang found out the reader could abstract at will, including restricting it to certain parts of their body, ooor what if they found out you were a shapeshifter when you accidentally sneeze and turn into Wario or something

TADC cast x reader who can shapeshift!

i have returned from eating my silly dinner (sweet n sour chicken with rice!) it was very scrumptious i went ahead and did the shapeshifter idea since i feel that would be more fun to write (we can pretend they can still shift to mimic an abstracted body shhh) these ones are a little short i hope thats okay!

CAINE:

its not totally unheard of people getting unique abilities when they enter the digital world, its just not very common (this is a hc!), so when caine found out you could manipulate your appearance he wasn't all that surprised! i think he was more intrigued more than anything, because its not everyday you see something like that! he would be absolutely thrilled if you shifted into him; both from being amused of it and this man probably loves himself as much as someone can

will try to pop you if you mimic bubble, kind of feels bad for a second but your disguise was just so so convincing! say, were you by any chance an actor in your past life in the real world? you totally had him fooled!

POMNI:

pomni would be a little freaked out, especially if you just. suddenly sneezed and OH! now it looks like you're abstracting in front of everyone! first response is to run away before the transformation is complete, but when she notices no one else is freaking out (ragatha even blesses you!) shes more than a little confused

you offer to demonstrate your abilities to her, but she probably politely turns you down; she understands... for the most part... really its mostly just her trying to become used to the digital world as a whole

RAGATHA:

ragatha makes sure that you know that she thinks its cool; and as long as you're not morphing into a giant bug shes encouraging you to hone in on that cool power of yours! compliments whatever form you choose for the day

oh? you changed your hair color! she likes it, the new look is amazing on you! oh? you made yourself a little taller and gave yourself some new characteristics! points out nearly every detail shes noticed, no matter how small. ragatha pays attention, ragatha cares

JAX:

tries to drag you off to the dark side (ie being a menace to the others), whether or not you agree to be his partner in crime and 'use your power for evil' is fully up to you!

makes random requests to see just how far you can take your shapeshifting, usually listing off things at lightning speed to see if you can catch up.. if your shapeshifting takes a toll on you (like lets say it takes energy out of you) he might let up when he realizes how tired and pale you look all of a sudden.. at least for now

KINGER:

speedrunning to kinger for a moment before i forget this idea but imagine shapeshifting into him and hes just totally confused. leads to him making weird movements and you copying him (he thinks caine added a new mirror in the middle of the room for a solid minute before you break the illusion)

unless you have a set 'base form' hes going to keep thinking youre a new person if you drastically alter your appearance.. which, fair, since i think if you made yourself look unrecognizable, people would think youre a new person entirely. has probably introduced himself to you multiple times before realizing it was you

kinger gets a technical third bullet point but its not fluff. i just remembered the scene from steven universe where amethyst shapeshifts into rose in front of greg. but instead its kinger and instead of rose is queener/queenie. i hurt my own feelings. im gonna stew over this now

ZOOBLE:

honestly if you look just a mixmatched as them they would be into it and say you look cool. i had an idea that zooble has spare pieces and sometimes switches out their pieces for a new look, so imagine the two of you make matching looks or something, i think that would be cool

otherwise i dont think zooble would treat you any differently than if you were friends and couldnt shapeshift... though... i will admit, they think its funny when jax annoys you and change yourself in order to get him to back off. serves him right!

GANGLE

imagine she asks you to be a model for her art.. asking you to do different poses as well as different figures so she can better her craft. i absolutely love the idea of gangle being really into art, and this idea is just so cute to me

you have probably shapeshifted into her and pretended to be her when she needed someone to stand up for her... imagine how jarring it would be to see 'gangle' snap back at jax after he does something particularly mean

[mariacrow]

HIII! It's so nice to find someone who also enjoys bayverse! If I may, could I request bayverse bumblebee fluff between the events of dotm and aoe, where bumblebee and reader are taking a break from running to stargaze? Poor thing seems so stressed to the point there's no bubbly cheer in the 4th movie

Maybe you could sprinkle in a little angst in which cybertron is mentioned and bee points out its approximate location in the sky? Have a wonderful day/night!

Coming right up ;)

❁ Bumblebee x reader ❁

2nd person

female reader

fluff

takes place between Transformers: Dark of the Moon and Transformers: Age of Extinction

stargazing, cuddling, comfort, reassurance

It’s been a few months since Sentinel and Megatron have been defeated. Everyone is just.. so tired of everything. Running, fighting, dealing with everything all over again. It’s a never ending loop. You’ve also noticed Bumblebee seems a bit down lately… As if that happy bumblebee inside of him stopped buzzing…

Tonight he decided to stay with you, in your garage. He wouldn’t come out though. Usually he’d have fun in your backyard, make some mess on accident, tap your bedroom window and try to come in through the backyard door.

You decided to check on him. You opened the backyard garage door.

“Bee…?”

He let out a low buzz.

“Hey…” you warmly smiled at him and approached, giving his hood a gentle pat, “You okay there…?”

He was silent for a couple of seconds, then he carefully transformed, supporting himself with his knee as he was leaning closer to you.

Standing in front of him, you cupped his faceplate with both of your hands, lovingly looking into his beautiful, shining blue orbs. He sunk into your tender touch, closing his optics… Your heart ached for him but you didn’t let that warm smile leave your face.

“Resting, huh?” you spoke to him softly, your voice like the sweetest honey dripping from your mouth.

He opened his optics, looking at you like a sad puppy… He nodded.

“Come on out. The sky is beautiful tonight.” you stepped aside.

His spark warmed up as he carefully got out, walking farther into your backyard, looking up. He happily buzzed as he slowly sat down on the soft grass, touching it a little.

He then looked at you and let you climb on his servo. He brought you closer to his face and let you sit on his chassis. He kept his servo gently wrapped around you, just in case. You were gently holding onto his index digit while looking up at the starry sky.

“Do you ever wonder how many lives are out there, similar to us? What we’re looking at now is an endless space… Technically, we all share the same sky.” you smiled, “I think that’s beautiful… and unsettling.” you chuckled.

You gave him an idea. He pointed at Venus.

“Yeah, that’s planet Venus.” you smiled.

He lifted his other arm closer to you as a clear hologram of Venus shined from the top of his forearm. Your eyes widened as the hologram reflected in your pretty eyes.

“The planet of love.” he spoke over the radio as he lovingly looked at you, his optics spinning and expanding.

He made you blush and giggle, “Oh you…” your heart fluttering. You gave his face plate a soft smooch which made his spark turn into a puddle and almost leak out of his chassis. He scooted you a bit closer and snuggled against your face and shoulder as you moved your arm under his chin and placed your soft hand onto his face plate.

He then pointed onto another shining dot in the sky. It was Saturn. He also displayed its hologram.

“My favorite— planet in the Solar system.”

Dialogue option 1:

“Aww! It’s so cute you did research. Saturn is my favorite too!” you smiled at him.

“Twins!!” he made you laugh with that girly quote from a movie.

Dialogue option 2:

“Aww! It’s so cute you did research. A lot of people also like Saturn, its rings make it look so unique.”

“What’s your favorite— planet?” he asked over the radio.

You told him your favorite one in the Solar system. He scanned the sky and pointed at it.

“There!” he showed you the hologram of it. While you were looking at it in awe, he was too busy looking at your cute face with wide, sparkly eyes full of surprise and a big honest smile.

°

“Can you show me your planet?” you asked curiously.

Bumblebee looked up at the sky again. He was scanning it a bit longer. He couldn’t find it…

“It’s too— far away… I can’t find it…” he said with a sad face expression.

“Oh, Bee… I’m so sorry… You must miss it a lot…” you said while gently caressing his face plate.

“I do…” he showed you the hologram of his planet he kept in his memory… He deeply vented and ex-vented, as if he sighed…

“Wow… it’s beautiful…”

“Was…” Bee let out a sad buzz as he turned off the hologram.

“Heey heyheyhey.. Don’t lose hope, buddy, okay?” you said reassuringly with a warm smile, “You will bring it back one day. I know you will. Hope dies last.”

He gently nuzzled his face plate against your soft cheek and hair, closing his optics as cute, low buzzing rumbled in his warm chassis. He held you close with both of his servos as you touched his face plate with both of your tiny hands.

He gently pressed his muzzle against your lips, as if he wanted to kiss you… That made you giggle as you gave him a sweet, long kiss. You made his bumblebee-like antennas wiggle as his spark almost started beating like a human heart.

He slowly lay down on the nicely trimmed, fresh grass, keeping you close to him as he was gently petting your head with his index digit. You sighed lovingly and relaxed in his tender, caring embrace.

“I could stay like this with you forever…” you said.

“Me too— Y/N…” he actually said your name… He almost made you cry…

He played “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak, it’s one of his favorite summer songs.

You continued stargazing and enjoying some relaxing, mostly vintage music that Bee was playing over the radio while cuddling. This might be one of Bumblebee’s favorite moments with you so far.

Dividers belong to @cute-sushi-roll , @tex-treasures 🌻

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Cowboy Casanova - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I wrote anything spicy but since Glen had to go and make that comment while reading thirst tweets yesterday, here we are. It's not my best, and it's literally plotless smut, but c'est la vie.

pairing: Lt. Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings/content: minors dni below the cut / fingering, praise kink, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, y'all).

word count: 1.1k

“Come on then, cowboy. Show me what you’ve got,” you challenged, hands resting firmly on your hips as you eyed your tall, blonde-haired boyfriend up, trying to resist the urge to bite your lip as your gaze fell on his sharply toned body, his white long-sleeved henley hugging his muscular physique tightly, accentuating every curve of his arms in a way that was almost hypnotizing.

“Cowboy?” Jake retorted, laughing dryly as he raised the amber coloured glass bottle in his hand to his lips, taking a sip of the cold, frothy liquid inside, shaking his head in mock disbelief at your bold attitude, trying hard to deny any semblance of feeling towards you over it. 

“You heard me. You sure as shit talk like one.” 

“You makin’ fun of my accent, darlin’? I thought most women go wild for a good Southern boy.”

“Most women might. It takes more than an accent to win me over, gorgeous.”

He leaned in towards you, his tall frame towering in as he ducked his head down beside your ear. His voice was a low, seductive whisper as he spoke - he knew what he was doing, you were terrible at bluffing, and honestly, so was he, but that was part of what made this whole exchange so appealing. 

“Oh believe me, I’m up for the challenge,” He purred as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, his fingers brushing against your skin lightly, yet in a way that made your skin feel hot to the touch. 

He pressed his lips to the sensitive patch of skin directly in front of your ear, his warm breath taunting your nerves as you felt it brush over you. The smell of beer mixed with his intoxicating cologne, and you felt your head begin to spin as his lips made their way down the curve of your cheekbone, trailing their way to your neck before resting on the sweet spot where your neck and shoulder met. You felt your back press flat against the wall as Jake put his hands on your waist, gripping your body tightly as he held you in place, his knee resting in between your legs, keeping them spaced just far enough apart for him for his hand to find its way between your thighs, reaching up the short skirt you’d decided to wear that day. You felt Jake’s lips curl up into a smirk against your skin as he ran his fingertips along your slit, a cocksure chuckle escaping his lips as his fingers brushed your clit. 

“So wet for me already, babygirl,” He hummed against your neck before nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth, continuing to grin against you as he left soft bite marks on your skin.

“Only for you, daddy,” You murmured, knowing that calling Jake that was a surefire way to have him practically ripping your clothes off in seconds. It drove him wild whenever he heard it fall from your lips like a prayer, he could barely contain himself whenever you did, and you loved taking advantage of that fact. 

Jake plunged two of his long, thick digits into your core as soon as the words came out of your mouth, barely giving you time to react to his touch. You threw your head to the side, letting out a loud whine as he pressed his fingers into you, pumping them at a taunting pace as you let out a series of lewd noises. 

“Look at my pretty girl, all dripping wet for me,” Jake teased, his tone low and deep as he grinned at you, unable to stop himself from getting cocky about the effect he had on you.

He pulled his fingers out quickly, leaving you a whimpering mess at the loss of contact as he stuck them into his mouth, his wide tongue licking them clean before he undid his belt with his free hand. As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, he quickly dropped his jeans to the ground, kicking his boxers off his legs with them. Jake pressed you against the wall once again, his hardened cock pushing into your thigh as he lifted you up to hold your legs around his waist, using the wall as leverage to balance you where he wanted. He used one hand to guide his tip along your soaking core, leaving you a babbling mess at just the touch of him. Without warning, he pushed himself into you, an obscene sounding grunt coming out of his mouth as he felt your body clench around him. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Taking Daddy’s cock so good for me, aren’t you? Want Daddy to fill you up, hmm?” 

You attempted to respond, but your words could barely make their way into a coherent sentence as Jake continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming sharp and quick as he found his rhythm, thrusting as deep and hard into you as your bodies would allow. You managed to nod your head quickly in reply, but even getting your mind and body on the same page long enough for a simple head nod was next to impossible at this point. Jake prided himself in never half-assing anything, and that extended into his sex life. Not once in your relationship had he left you unsatisfied, or without craving, wanting, needing more. 

“I’m so close,” You finally managed to sputter out,  the only words that could come to you when Jake had you like this.

“Let it go, honey,” His words were more of a command than a phrase of encouragement as he said them, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice over it at this stage. You felt Jake beginning to lose control as your wet cunt clenched around him tightly, As Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, you felt him reach his climax, filling you with hot spurts of cum as he threw his head back, making his shouts of your name sound obscene as he was overrun with pleasure.

Panting heavily as he leaned against the wall, pinning you in place after helping you put your feet back on the floor, Jake’s sea-green eyes met yours with a lustful, yet loving gaze. He smirked as he gently pushed a strand of hair that fell from your ponytail behind your ear, leaning in to kiss you passionately, the heat of your bodies radiating between you, sweat dampening your brow.

“How ‘bout you and I take this to the bedroom so I can fuck you properly?” Jake smirked, raising one of his dark blonde eyebrows at you.

“You’re on, Cowboy, you’re on.” 

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

BET!

141 x reader w an oral fixation (you/your pronouns, mild self injury -nail and lip biting)

It started out simple. Everyone knew about your habits. Biting your nails, peeling dried skin off your lips, chewing the end of pencils. You usually don't notice when it's happening, much to the mild annoyance of those around you.

Once, while trying to focus on a crossword puzzle, you bit down so hard on your pen that blue ink sprayed all over the place. Soap still hasn't let you live that one down.

Kyle, ever the sweetheart, always seems to have lip balm on hand. Vaseline as a preemptive measure and to soothe any cuts.

You've tried everything to curb the habit. Minty gum, hard candies, ect. But it never works for long.

It's actually Simon who decides enough is enough when you bite your lip so hard it bleeds.

Carefully, he takes a tissue and dabs at the blood. You like to think he doesn't notice the way your heart beats faster and your skin heats up when his touch lingers a second longer than expected, thumb brushing your lips.

He totally noticed. He mutters something under his breath about "keeping your mouth busy" before letting his thumb slip into your mouth. Luckily, the weight of his thumb pressing gently on your tongue is the cure to your problem.

Everyone helps you in their own way. Johnny thinks it's great fun when you sink your teeth into his skin, nibbling on the muscle. Just be prepared to get bit right back.

You have free reign to tug Ghost's gloves off whenever you want. Within reason. He takes the nonverbal cue to let you suck on his digits in stride.

Price doesn't complain when you mouth at his bulge while he does paperwork. Even as drool falls from your eager lips, saturating the fabric.

Once you even fell asleep nestled between Kyle's legs, keeping him warm with your mouth.

Once all four of your boys get the memo that the easiest way to help you relax is giving you something to suck on, you never have to worry about biting your nails raw again. There's always a cock for you to suck on. By the time one is pulling away, another takes its place.

-🔪

👀👀👀👀

KNIFE

MY BELOVED

ME NEXT

ME NEXT

[cutielights]

Warnings: injury mention, Leo being Leo.

Desc: Leo x G/N reader, unspecified if human or mutant/yo’kai. Comfort, cuddles! Generally trying to feel better about the whole world ending thing. 2nd person.

A/N: Happy 300! :D 741 words

Feeling Apocalyptic

The sound of chatter accompanied by several pairs of heavy duty boots thumping by your closed door fills your ears as you slump into your sorry excuse for a bed, the mattress flipped over as the springs had started to pop. Goosebumps run up your arms, only mildly soothed by the blanket you pull around your shoulders as you lean your head back against the metal wall with a soft *thud*.

You glance at the digital clock, the dim light displaying 11:39 PM. You know you really should be asleep in this condition. The stitched gash on your side beginning to ache with every movement. Those painkillers must be wearing off.

As you close your eyes, your mind runs rampant with worries and criticisms about the apocalyptic state of the world. This bloodthirsty apocalypse event had its birthday yesterday, it’s one now, gee I bet its parents are so proud. Has it had its fun yet? People are dying by the day and supply runs are beginning to yield less and less, it’s not going to be long before we have to start charring rats on a skewer.

Sighing in frustration and throwing the thin covers off , you sit up and move to swing your legs back over the edge of the bed.

Or, you would if pain hadn’t shot up your spine, a burning sensation accompanying it and irritating the gash desperately trying to heal. This injury is still fresh, the stitches clearly visible when you lift up your shirt, some scabs preparing to form along the lower edge. There was no room left in the med bay. This injury is on the lighter side of things.

Carefully, you shift your weight to lay down on the bed, moving a pillow over your head to block out the noisy hallway. Closing your eyes, it doesn’t take long for your body to eagerly pull your consciousness down into the abyss, leaving you in a dreamless sleep.

The scent of diluted disinfectant fills your nose, cold fingers wrapping around your arm. Your body responds, eyes shooting open and arm jerking back as you lay eyes on the perpetrator.

Alas, no Kraang. Just Leo.

A tired grin graces your lips as he leans down for a small kiss, the rare, warm, embrace more than welcome in this environment.

Landing a peck on your lips, his eyes flick back up at you before he pulls away, sitting up. “Sleepy, Mi Vida?” He chuckles tiredly, deep shadows making themselves known in their bed under his eyes by the lamplight. “You should really be asleep.”

This man’s audacity. “You woke me up-“ Nevermind. “Kinda hard with a gaping gash on my side.” You cross your arms, wincing a little as the skin around said wound becomes pulled with the movement, eliciting a worried flash across Leonardo’s face before quickly regaining a playful persona.

“Oh but I could have sworn you were patched up by the best just this morning, Mi Vida, hm?” He smiles, a gentle hand tracing the irritated skin around it, cold skin soothing. “You look great for someone actively bleeding out.”

You roll your eyes at this quip, perhaps not finding it as amusing as he does. “You finished all your ‘Resistance Leader Duties’ in order to come and annoy me?” You ask, a sly smile creeping across the corners of your lips.

“No, I had some issues left,” he mumbles, leaning his forehead against yours before closing his eyes, “Raph made me stop, said he could handle it.” He pauses before tiredly chuckling once again. “It’s five AM, I hadn’t stopped. Neither had Dee, wrestled him into bed.”

Snorting at this, you grab a pillow, whacking it playfully against his head.

“Hey- what was that for?”

“You don’t know what a pillow’s for?” You tease, laughing with him. “It’s a pillow. You just said it’s five in the morning, read between the lines.”

Leo grumbles at this, shifting his position. “Fine.” He lays down with you before pulling you closer to his chest, resigning his leadership role for a few hours rest. He hums, the vibrations tickling you as he traces circles into your waist. It doesn’t take long for the movement to subtly slow, eventually coming to a full stop as sleep takes him. You look at his peaceful face before the corners of your mouth curl into a soft smile. Resting your head under his, you too, fall back asleep.

A/N: eepy. Me, it’s me, I’m eepy. May edit this even when it’s up idk, finished this at 5am

Tags: @chillingshadow @crow-the-fox @moonchhu @ghoul-with-a-gun

[asherxz]

Omg it's Hasbro manager (trust) hi guys

Anyway, pls, Sideswipe romantic hcs with a s/o being a wheelchair user.... I need my dose before sleep ty very much :b

RID Sideswipe with an S/O in wheelchair HCS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is my boss yall, im literally the Hasbro mascot (trust) ASFDSA anyway this is literally Sideswipes husband, i was at their wedding TEEHEE. It iss specified somewhere else its bc of chronic pain, so it'll be focused around that but i'll try not to make it too obvious!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-VERY confused when he first meets you. Humans have wheels too?

-At first, he doesnt know how to be around you. He's scared he'll knock you over or something, but he quickly learns.

-He asks a lot of questions at first, he's very curious.

-You are Russels elder sibling, and you lived at the graveyard with your dad, so you were quite used to small obstacles with your wheelchair.

-He's quite impressed by that. He's quite impressed by you as a whole.

-When you grow closer and form a relationship, he's gotten a new obsession. He loves carrying you around. He's your personal wheelchair, just very big and lively. He just loves having you in his arms while walking around.

-If you're self conscious about being in a wheelchair or anything even remotely related to that, he'll lay with you for HOURS just trying his best to comfort you.

-He will absolutely love it if you let him decorate it. Even if it's just the smallest trinket.

-Will just randomly pick you out of it and carry you away from everybody else. He takes his cuddle time VERY seriously.

-Loves to lay down by your side, just looking lovingly at you as he runs his digits through your hair.

-Looots of forehead kisses from him. Kisses to the hair and everything around that is a must for him.

-Sideswipe may or may not be absolutely horrified by the thoughts that one day you two may not be together.

-He wants to talk to you about it... but he doesn't have the courage to. Why say I out loud when you can just bottle it up?(/J)

-Sometimes he gets a bit jealous when he sees you having fun with other people. He has a need to prove himself to you. Or well, prove to himself, he's worthy of dating you.

-Russel will find that whole relationship very weird it fist. But he'll warm up to it.

-Denny on the other hand? Nuhuh, he ain't having none of this.

-He's quite protective over you. He doesn't exactly care that you're dating a giant bot, it's more so the fact you're... Well, dating.

-Of course, Denny ends up being quite supportive of the relationship... so horray!

-Bee certainly doesn't trust the fact Sideswipe is dating you. He keeps a strict optic on him almost all the time.

-Other than that, he's a great one to date. Small jealousy problems and such, but other than that, he's great!

So sorry if this is ooc or short! I'm not thaaat far into RID!

[nsharks]

a secret (and a knife) | simon "ghost" riley

aka rough sex with your lieutenant. (knife included) tags: knife play, oral sex, he calls you slut, afab!reader a/n: has nothing to do with my other fics. this was just for fun.

Your spine digs into dusted floorboards. Thighs wavering; you struggle not to close them and restrict his access to the sensitive flesh between. Keep them fuckin’ open, Ghost has already ordered in a harsh whisper, so you do your best to obey.

But it’s not easy— the heat in your cunt blossoms and ripples under a rough tongue. You’d spent the entire mission charred by the Colorado cold, but now your naked body is heated by the warmth that spreads from your Lieutenant’s mouth. It’s a secret fire that he’s ignited within you, tucked away in a room where none of the sleeping men in the safe house can witness its heat.

“Be quiet.”

Another order. One you understand the weight of. Because these secret exchanges are compromising to both of you— Lieutenant and subordinate, a dynamic that could easily prevent you from serving. Keeping quiet has been the agreement since the first time you’d found yourself taking his cock.

Now—

You hold up your end of the deal by lifting a hand to your mouth, biting the heel of your thumb to quiet your whimpers. But it’s so much— too much. You’ve quickly learned that Simon Riley eats pussy like a man starved. And with a mind that feels muddled by euphoria, you forget his previous command, thighs trembling to shut out his stubbled jaw.

“I said keep ‘em open,” Ghost hisses quietly.

(What he should say: don’t hide my meal.)

Gloved hands roughly pry your plush thighs apart so he can continue his merciless assault.

You try your best, but there’s not much more of his tongue - drinking, slurping, teasing - you can take before your squirming thighs attempt to push him away once again.

“Jesus Christ.”

A silent sneer. Hazel eyes that flicker up to you behind the hollow orbitals of a skull. In frustration, his warm mouth leaves you. You watch him sit up so he can reach for something from his heavy boot— a knife. The black sheath stares back at you only for a moment before he removes it, revealing a silver blade that catches the dim candlelight.

“Keep ‘em open or I’ll carve my name…” and he taps a gloved digit to the supple skin of your thigh, just beside your cunt, “…right here. I swear it.”

A final warning. Cold and quiet. He presses the blade against your inner thigh to keep it in place with the threat of its sharp edge.

You suck in a breath.

He wouldn’t dare.

But the subtle sting, his whispered threat, only heightens your sensitivity. Nerves prickle under the metal and your back arches against the floorboards. He returns his mouth to the fat of your cunt with slurps and dribbles. He hasn't even fucked you yet and your hole already feels used. Your thighs continue to quiver but you seek every ounce of your will to keep them spread open for him, the knife doing well to motivate you.

And soon— liquid pleasure. It erupts from your cunt and spreads to each of your limbs. Drenching his tongue, stubble, lips. You bite your hand with force and your thigh shakes against the blade until you feel it just barely nip that first layer of skin. But you keep them apart, following his command even in your pleasure-altered state.

“Good girl,” your superior murmurs a piece of praise as he licks it up. But he doesn’t give you much time to recover before he’s moving the flat side of his knife to your soiled cunt and giving it a few taps.

Wet mess under sleek blade. You shudder.

“Now stand up.”

Upon weak legs, you lift yourself. Spine bruised from the floor. You stand there wholly naked (he’d been quick to remove each layer before eating your pussy) and instinctively hold your breasts, nipples pert from the chill air. Ghost stands up wholly clothed. His preference. Only his thick gear had been placed on the floor in the midst of it all.

Thick heartbeats. A lick of his wet lips. The smell of sex and mothballs in the room. Then, in a quiet flurry, he presses you against the wall. One hand gripping your shoulder and the other clutching the handle of his knife— the colossal mass of him towers behind you.

“Ghost.”

You almost whine. Pussy drooling: his spit, your cum. You feel ready for him, hands trembling as they press into the wall's wood. Crazed. Perhaps because of the long day you’d had. Possibly because of the knife he has pulled out to threaten you with. Your orgasm has fizzled into the desperation for another and you press your ass back to fill the crevice of his clothed hips.

To the rest of the team, you are a dutiful soldier. Collected. Focused. To him: you are anything but.

“Shh.” He brings his exposed lips to your ear. “Needy little thing. Christ. Just came from my mouth, didn’t you?”

“Want… more.”

He simply shushes you again by letting the knife finds its way to your throat. Another warning. Just barely does he press the cool edge against the skin, but it does well to make you shiver in obedience. The threat, the thrill. He could easily slice your jugular just as he could easily pin you down and carve his infamous name into your flesh; you’ve witnessed him gut men without second thought.

But instead of spilling blood, your Lieutenant undoes his belt. A clank. Shuffling trousers. Soon, his warm, fat cock grazes the back of your thigh. Head weeping. The soft, dewy skin of it is a stark contrast to the sharp steel, but the threat carries the same.

He could do equal damage with both.

Here, in a Colorado safe house while the rest of your unit sleeps, Ghost moves the knife from your throat to the expanse of your bare back. His cock swinging low against your ass. You’re not sure what he’s doing until you feel the pointed tip trail down each notch in your spine, slowly, causing you to shudder and writhe and press your lips together.

Icy metal.

Gooseflesh erected in its wake.

“Like how it feels, do you?” Ghost asks quietly in your ear. His free hand touches his cock, and you know it because the wet head nudges against your ass with each stroke. “Knew you would, little dove. Filthy thing, you are.”

A crackled whisper: “Don’t tease me, Lt.”

Flicker of candlelight. His breath down your neck.

“Shut it,” and the knife’s warning finds your throat once more, “I’ll do what I want.”

But it seems his need is as thick as yours. He taps his heavy cock against your ass cheek only a few times before guiding it between your legs, mushroomed tip feeding into you without reserve. Fat. Throbbing. You feel the ridge of every vein against your velvet walls. A man whose face you’ve never even seen slowly splits you apart, inch by inch, with one of his many knives bared to your throat.

It hurts so good.

“This goddamn cunt…” he mouths a growl into the shell of your ear. Plastic skull pressed against your hair. “…has me doin’ things I shouldn’t.”

A skeletal hand covers your lips to keep you quiet as his cock reaches the hilt, as if he doesn’t trust you even with the threat of his knife. The noises you might make could cost him too much. His slow entrance soon turns into deep, strong thrusts that have you pitifully mewling into his glove until your cheeks turn pink.

And then the blade pricks your neck with a little more force.

An irritated hiss:

“It’s your fuckin’ fault. Gonna get me in trouble, I swear to God. This perfect, little cunt… opening up for me. Suckin’ me in. Jesus Christ, you are such a slut.”

It’s the burn of his filthy words. The sting of his blade. The knowledge that you really shouldn’t be doing this, that there are men asleep out there who could easily slip in and witness your months-old secret. The taboo of it all shouldn’t make your walls clench around him, but it does.

Slut.

You know it.

Your eyes clamp shut.

Your belly flips and ripples with another growing swell of euphoria, to the point that tears begin to bleed from the corners of your closed lids. Sweltering salt that escapes down your cheeks and onto his gloved hand. A few tears make it to the blade, even.

Ghost… Simon. Your Lieutenant. Everything about this man is immeasurable. His size, his strength, his command, his penchant for making you cry. It’s only fitting that the deep press of his cock would be just as overwhelming. Each languid, full thrust presses his head against the plug of your womb. The crescent of his hips meets the jiggling fat of your ass with a force that digs your nipples into the wall.

All of him consumes all of you.

His scent - sulfur, kerosene - swarming your nose as you struggle to breathe. The feeble gulps of air down your throat further dig the blade against your neck until you are certain a pink welt will form.

The knife stings. It gnaws. His cock batters and bruises. You shiver. You bite his hand, but still he doesn’t relent.

It’s his fault.

It’s his whispered words in your ear, nudging you towards another precipice:

“You’re goin’ to cum on my cock, huh?” He gives a bite to your shoulder. “No one gets to see you like this but me. Fuckin’ crying ‘cause you’re about to cum again— bloody hell.”

And you do. His teeth, the knife, his rough hand over your mouth. It’s pain and pleasure. Need and secrecy. The unforgiving cock buried within you coaxes a second orgasm. White-hot. Frothing somewhere in your belly. A silenced moan in his palm. Your walls clench around the thick of him until he follows suit; painting your womb with white seed.

His cock twitches. Pulses. Stills.

He only pulls out of you when the knife against your neck finally lifts, faded sting left behind. A heavy chest breathes deep mouthfuls of air against you. You both try your best to rake in the aftermath without making too much noise, and in the quietness, an unspoken understanding lingers in the air:

This isn’t something either of us are willing to stop.

No— because your imperfect needs entwine perfectly. You have an itch for pain; he has the itch to supply it. You have a desire for pleasure without mercy; Ghost is anything but merciful. The consequences don’t seem to outweigh the way your bodies keep finding each other in the dark.

Moments later, your Lieutenant’s mouth finds your ear again.

His knife— you wonder where it’s left to, but your answer arrives in the cold, flat side pressing against the mess between your legs.

Sloppy drips of him and you coat the metal.

“Dove,” he murmurs in your ear and then brings the knife to your reddened lips. You see it through your hazy vision— all the cum he has collected. “Lick it clean. Go on.”

And you do well to obey your superior’s last order of the night, with a lazy tongue that licks up every drop of cum from his knife.

[mostlyghostlyy]

ik you just posted one like this but I’d love to get ambushed by him in an alleyway and being forced to suck his dick, oh my godddddd

Its giving the Kurt Russell "Now I KNOW that sounds bad-"

Do I gotta start tagging stuff "Dead dove do not eat"?

Cold air bites at your skin, hair prickling from its icy touch. Stumbling down the steps from the bar, you let out a little giggle. Vision blurred and spinning, balancing seemed to be almost impossible. Saying you were tipsy would be an understatement. Obviously, you were in no state to drive. You had the foresight to have one of your friends drop you off and pick you up, but unfortunately, they were called away for a family emergency. Whatever the fuck that means. 

Deciding it's no big deal, since you only live a couple blocks away, you don't call a cab. Might be a nice night for a walk. The crisp air feels good against the warm flush of your skin, it nearly makes you forget about the creep you encountered at the bar. It seemed like the usual harassment case, weirdo wanting your number or a quick fuck. However this guy just felt…Off. So, endowed with the liquid courage you'd been consuming the whole night, you told him off. Digging into his appearance and the creepy manner he was communicating. You made it known that you were too good for him. The man did eventually leave after your loud commotion. Tail tucked under legs, retreating pathetically.

Running your hand across the passing buildings for support, you wobble your way down to a dimly lit section of street. Figures that your route home would have a conspicuous dark patch, bordered by an alleyway that seemed to swallow up the light. Electing the path of brave stupidity, you begin to waltz past the alley, stumbling without support. A hand snakes around your waist and one covers your mouth in a tight clasped. You're yanked into the blackness before you get a chance to realize what's happened. 

Your back is slammed into the cold brick wall, you try to speak but are shushed by the entity that grabbed you. A metal blade is pushed into the skin of your neck, just enough so it's a real threat. You raise your hands in a sign of surrender, tears starting to form from realization. Drunk buzz starting to wear off from bounding adrenaline. Starting to whisper some soft pleas, “don't hurt me. Take whatever you want. I won't tell anyone if you let me go. Why are you doing this?” (the basics, yk)

The entity laughs, and you swear you know that voice. You can almost put a face to the voice, your eyes slowly becoming adjusted to the dark. The blade is moved from your neck to push some hair out of your face. His silhouette is a clear black outline inside of the raging dark, malignant eyes sparkling. 

“You said all those nasty things to me, Princess. Now I'm going to repay the favor.” Soft rasps in your ear, He's close to you, but now he's moving closer. Pressing his body into you, squeezing you into the wall. His erect penis pushing into you, his face bending awkwardly into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell. “Aww are you scared, my little lamb? There's no need to worry if you behave. We're just going to have a little bit of fun. Let's see if we can't use that mouth for something more… Productive.”

He lifts his head so he can look into your eyes. Bringing up his hand, he probes your locked lips with his index and middle finger. “Open up, Angel. Gotta get you niiiiiice and ready for me.” You turn your head, and he presses the knife tighter into your neck as a warning. With no choice but to comply, your mouth falls open and he inserts his digits into your mouth. 

He feels around inside for a while, before telling you to “suck them good and hard. Practice makes perfect. Don't you want to be perfect for me?” His fingers taste of sweat and chemicals as he pumps them in and out of your mouth. Parting them on the return so they stretch your lips open. Saliva stringing them together, and pulling from your mouth. He pushes them so far in, you gag around them.  shutters in what you can only assume is arousal, moaning in pleasure before he begins rubbing his erection on you. dry humping your body while his fingers work your mouth open, trying to create any stimulating friction. Disgust and fear mingling and creating a pit in your stomach. He's letting out huffs between thrusts that contain a mix of praise and degradation. Hot and sticky breath, you can't wait to get away from it. High pitched whining emitted from him, as his legs shutter in place. Head thrown back, as his fingers come to a standstill in your mouth. A wicked smile plastered on his face, his pants are now coated with his seed. 

He pulls his hand free from your mouth. “Practice is over, Princess. Time to show me what you learned.” You protest this, shaking your head. Frightfully pale and queasy. He grabs your throat, tightly squeezing it. “get on your fucking knees, Angel.” Each pet name he spits with absolute vitriol. He lets you go, coughing and weezing. You slowly lower yourself to your knees, resolving yourself to just go along with what he wants. “Look at youuuuu! So pretty for me on your knees, all for me to ruin!” He purrs. He motions at his pants. “go ahead, pretty thing. Work for it if you want it.” you sob gently, tears streaming down your face. Working to undo his belt and pants, sticky to peel off from the ecstasy he worked up earlier. His dick springs free, hitting the cold air and making him hiss. You reluctantly look around and start at the tip. Giving small kitten licks, nauseated by the taste. His hands find purchase in your hair as he urges you on, thrusting his hips to meet your lips, you cough around his cock and he moans sweetly. Gently bobbing your head up and down, and he's muttering prayers to an unseen entity. 

“Now tell me again, my arrogant Angel, are you still better than me?” sentence punctuated by loud and heavy huffs. Each jerking motion of his hips sends him deeper down your throat, tears prick your eyes as you struggle to breathe. You whimper at the sensation, and he keens. 

Lightheaded and dizzy from the oxygen starvation, his pace speeds up ferociously. erratic rutting, pulling your hair back and forth, using you as a human fleshlight. Chasing the mounting high, stimulating himself as best as he possibly can. Animalistic growls and grunts pour from his mouth. They may have been words at one point but have found themselves incoherent. Warm seed fills your mouth and runs down your throat. His cock still firmly planted in your mouth and throat, his hands buried in your hair keeping you complacent. You struggle to swallow around the obstruction, and he loosens his grip. Dropping you to collapse on the pavement, eyes puffy from crying. He tucks himself back into his pants, belt chiming happily as it's reconnected. “Be a good girl now, little Angel, and be polite next time.”

[anistarrae]

I kinda want to get into digital painting, how do you make your paintings look so good? Do you have any tips?

its really all about practice id say, and understanding shadows and light sources.

my mom has studied art for years, she no longer does it, but she told one of the most important advices when it comes to shading. draw a small ball on where you want the light source to come from, and draw from there. imagine how it will effect every small thing in the drawing, how little or lots of light it will have.

this is something i made while explaining this to someone a few months ago, this is what my mom told me what to do, and i learned a lot about shading from this. studying from real life is also very important, seeing how light interacts with objects, how light is reflected off to other objects, how blurry or sharp the shadow can be. its endless amounts of knowledge when looking at real life subjects.

when rendering, light sources are one of the most important things, learning the fundamentals can help you in the long run. thinking of what you want your shadows to look like too, do you want them soft or sharp, or even a mix of both? finding something right for you is important, and that's why experimentation is key for finding what you're happy with. trying so many different techniques is possible when going into digital art, take things from artists you like, redraw your favorite piece to see how they've made it, try new brushes or programs, its all up to you!

color is important when it comes to rendering, that could be said for any piece. color dictates the feeling of the piece, using many different colors in your shading can make it pop out. going back to experimenting, trying new different colors and palettes is very helpful too! play with saturations, values, try using only one hue. i stick to warms usually, but seeing what else you could be using can be fun too! color is limitless, try all that you can :D

in art, i believe experimentation is one of the most important things, it leads to your growth as an artist. i would be nowhere without it, and i very much encourage anyone to try all they can. digital art is one of the most expansive artforms, you can get almost any look with it, you can do so much with it that makes creativity limitless.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hii~ as you know its spooky month!! ;)

So i was thinking about a demon reader for the tadc cast

The reader looks like a stereotypical demon( horns ,hooves ,maybe a tail idk) BUT is chaotic good

I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Ty❤️

TADC cast x demon!reader !

gonna knock this request out real fast then go lay down; i feel all uehdoivnffvnelfnfv but i am still on that grind !!!!!!! (please dont be like me please work on trying to create a healthy work/life balance and take care of yourself) short segments for this one sorry anon :(

CAINE:

honestly he would occasionally make himself look like an angel to match with you; give himself a halo and wings and all that! loves your energy, i said it once and ill say it again, i think caine would love a chaotic reader who keeps him guessing! keep this man on his toes, hes into that, keeps things fun!

POMNI:

naturally a little put off at first but warms up to you. does she think you can be a little too much? yeah, sometimes... does she know you mean well? yeah, and she tries not to hold your way of doing things against you! sometimes you let her fidget with your tail if shes feeling nervous about something

RAGATHA:

"you may be a demon but you're the sweetest person i know!", does not miss a day where she says she loves you.. should you ever think badly of yourself and believe there was a reason you were made into a demon in this world, ragatha will immediately dismiss any bad idea you have about yourself

JAX:

SAY IT WITH ME NOW!!! ITS ADMINS FAVORITE JAX HC!!! if you have a tail hes gonna fidget with it!! bonus if it wags around, like in the tail haver reader in a previous post; this dude would find it cute too... thrives in your chaos, you two just bounce off each other... not uncommon for jax to do a little prank and you trying to correct what he messed with in the most.. well chaotic way.. probably ends with more people confused or annoyed, though

KINGER:

probably thinks youre a legitimate demon for a minute before realizing, oh wait no you arent youre just like. funky like that, digital world stuff. please try to tone down any chaotic activities around him, he is already freaking out enough as things are TToTT

ZOOBLE:

i think they would be similar to pomni, kind of put off by your energy but knows youre not a threat. plus they would rather hang out with you than half of the people here so hey, i guess you can say youre winning. thinks your horns are cool, regardless of what shape you as the reader imagine them to be. i think i also mentioned that zooble seems like the type to be into darker stuff and i think that would also tie in with supernatural stuff, and well, demons are supernatural, right? i mean youre not really a demon, but the appreciation is still there

GANGLE:

maybe this is self projection again, or maybe its because i think gangle would be an artist and this is just. a common artist trait, but they would think youre like. really pretty. thinks demons and monsters are cute, has definitely played a monster dating sim at some point before getting stuck in the digital world

not much else to say i just think this idea was a little funny for gangle.. i can kinda see zooble being a monster dating sim fan... maybe i just kin them both