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supercunninglinguist · 2 years

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"Halloween" Da Matt Pond PA - Traduzione Italiana

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Matt Pond PA – Halloween

Felice Halloween a tutti!

Went to where the people were on a saturday night Sono andato dove erano la gente un sabato note

Seems like it always seems Sembra come sembra sempre

Where i go i want to leave Dove vado, voglio partire

I thought we were doing fine with our lives Ho pensato che ce la stavamo cavando bene con le nostre vite

There are people who will tell you C’è sempre qualcosa di meglio

There is always something better C’è la gente che ti dirà

If you don't know or care you'll be alright Se non sai o non ti importa, starai bene

I heard it's modern to be stupid Ho sentito che è moderno essere stupido

You don't need to talk to look good Non hai bisogno di parlare per stare bene

I surprised myself as my mouth started speaking Mi sono sorpreso mentre la mia bocca ha cominciato parlare

There is nothing left of my nerves Non mi è rimasta pazienza

As i lean over to ask her Mentre mi chino per domandarle

Pardon the intrusion Perdona l’intrusione

Could we leave before it gets bad Possiamo andarcene prima che diventi spiacevole

I might smash up all these windows Potrei fracassare tutte queste finestre

And set fire to the curtains Ed incendierei le tende

Until it goes on and eats it with its blue and red orange Fino a che avanza e le mangia con il suo blu e rosso-arancio

Until the fire burns and eats it with its blue and red orange Fino a che il fuoco brucia e le mangia con il suo blu e rosso-arancio

If you don't know or care you'll be alright Se non sai o non ti importa, starai bene

I heard it's modern to be stupid Ho sentito che è moderno essere stupido

You don't need a thought to look good Non hai bisogno d’un pensiero per stare bene

Pardon the intrusion Perdona l’intrusione

Could we leave before it gets bad Possiamo andarcene prima che diventi spiacevole

I might smash up all the windows Potrei fracassare tutte queste finestre

And set fire to the curtains Ed incendierei le tende

Went to where the people were on a saturday night Sono andato dove erano la gente un sabato notte

Seems like it always seems Sembra come sembra sempre

Where i go i want to leave Dove vado, voglio partire

I surprised myself as my mouth started speaking Mi sono sorpreso mentre la mia bocca ha cominciato parlare

There is nothing left of my nerves Non mi è rimasta pazienza

As I lean over to ask her Mentre mi chino per domandarle

Pardon the intrusion Perdona l’intrusione

Could we leave before it gets bad Possiamo andarcene prima che diventi spiacevole

I might smash up all the windows Potrei fracassare tutte queste finestre

And set fire to the curtains Ed incendierei le tende

Until it goes on and eats it with its blue and red orange Fino a che avanza e le mangia con il suo blu e rosso-arancio

Until the fire burns and eats it with its blue and red orange Fino a che il fuoco brucia e le mangia con il suo blu e rosso-arancio

#la mia festa preferita!#ed il mio gruppo preferito!#This song is kinda lacking in Halloween spirit #but at least its got the title #whole song is basically:#a guy and his date go to a (halloween) party #he hates it #asks if they can leave #and then talks about how he'll burn some shit if he can't go #setting things on fire is definitely in the halloween spirit #Happy Halloween!#mi piace molto le caramelle gratis #not one of my favourite songs from them but its alright #Youtube #Traduzione della musica #la musica folk #Music translation #Matt Pond PA #Matt Pond

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hanasnx · 2 months

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hip to be square.

“You’ve worked up quite a sweat.” PATRICK BATEMAN notes in thinly veiled repulsion. Those cruel hands on your hips restrain themselves, and you can feel that tension against you. Instead, he pours his ample strength into yanking you back on him, choked sounds emit from your gaping mouth. In a way, this is an obligation, he can't really enjoy the way your cunt squeezes him, or how his thumbs fit those perfect back dimples—not in the way he wants to. If it were up to him, he'd squeeze the life out of you while he screwed those lifeless brains to pieces. Finally a bitch like you would be put to good use, eyes rolling back as the lack of oxygen grows black dots in your vision. You'd claw at his grip around your neck, easing in to crushing your windpipe, the light would die as he watched, and he wouldn't even falter in his pace. Those hips would still be fucking you, like he is now.

Hard and rough, it hurts. Abusing your cervix as you're bent over the perfect white covers of his California King. You bounce on him like you want more, but in reality you're limp as he directs your body the way he wants it to move. An irrefutable force against you that you are powerless to soothe, unbeknownst to you your only line of defense to protect you from his wrath is the ring on your finger.

You're engaged to him.

In his eyes it was an unavoidable tragedy. All his friends are your friends, you live in his area, and you're a ten minute commute from work. If he's looking to blow off steam during lunch, he'll pop in for a visit and use you up with a pillow covering your head. You don't catch on to the fact he doesn't want to look at you while he ravages you, never question why he insists on hitting it from the back if he can help it. It aids that you've got a nice ass, plump and round and fits in his palms when he handles it. When you aren't being a priss, sometimes you'll let him slip a finger into your asshole. At one point he managed to convince you to let him fist you, but he'd slipped you one to many things that night, narrowly avoiding a messy emergency room visit. There was no way he was going to wait up for you in such a place so late at night. What would he have told everybody? That his fiancée was some junkie? Absolutely not.

Nails dig into your skin at the memory, the salt of sweat burning that raw that makes you mewl. He steels himself from demanding you shut up, instead assuaging the urge by smacking your hand away when you reach back to hold his in a petty attempt to get him to let up. Cruelly, he drills you. Those pathetic noises release in pain, you don't even sound human. "What are you to me?" he spits, looming over your little body as his every muscle contracts fucking into you at a reckless pace. You're sore from his weight, but you can't do a thing about it when being treated like shit never felt so good. A ring of cream foams at his base, taken from you as your cunt confuses punishment for desperation, your expression twisting so hard you'll get wrinkles early. He'll have to divorce you before that happens, otherwise people will think him vain. "Answer me, you idiot, you're supposed to answer me."

Somehow, you don't notice how he's talking to you. How it's different than the cold and distant nature you're accustomed to in public. "Nothing." you breathe out. "I'm nothing." You chase whatever you can get your hands on, scrambling for whatever stupid response you can muster in this state. Apparently, it pleases him, a sea of moans flowing out through his deep voice as he satiates himself using you like a sock with your name on it in his room.

#indy: drabbles #ch: patrick #patrick bateman drabble #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman x fem reader #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman x y/n #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman fic #patrick bateman fanfic #patrick bateman fanfiction #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #american psycho #reader insert #patrick bateman #tw drug mention

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braxlrose · 11 months

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i read your tom kaulitz weird and silly headcanons and i can't stop laughing 😭 wtf it's 4 am.. anyway will you do the same headcanons only with bill, pretty please?🤭 i know one hundred percent that this little bastard isn't so innocent what he looks like.. i'm sure he's as dirty as Tom 😭 btw sorry engilsh is not my first language ☠️ Greetings from Poland!!:)

(his skirt is so cute?!?)

Cześć jeszcze raz! Rzadko spotykam Polaków, więc cieszy mnie możliwość ćwiczenia języka polskiego!

also his skirt is super cute omg

silly and weird bill headcanons

cw: mentioned oral(f and m!recieving), making out, nipple play?, etc

-you are completely right, this mf is far from innocent 💀 tom is seen as the dirty minded one but this little shit would make the most dirty fucking jokes every and then act all innocent LIKE BITCH

-he's also passive aggressive. like very passive aggressive. pookie can't help it 😪

-the first time you, him and tom all got high together he got super paranoid and thought that you guys were all just figments of a dog's imagination

-when you guys are spooning, he reaches underneath your shirt and cups your boobs. it helps him fall asleep quicker apparently

-but sometimes when he's feeling like a little shit, he'll tweak and pull at your nipples and you have to slap him away. so then you make him promise not to do it again. spoiler alert. he does it again 😐

-hes an impatient mf so the amount he's burned his tongue after heating up a pop tart 😒 like bitch..just wait the two fucking minutes

-he loves kissing your temple and your forehead

-during the winter, if his hands are cold he asks if he can put his hand in your pants. 💀 like that's his exact words. "Can I put my hand down your pants?" he says it's because you're warmer down there than he is, but I think it's just cuz he's a dirty minded little fuck

-when cooking marshmallows over the fire, it's a 50/50 thing. Sometimes he's super patient and will wait and make his marshmallows a crispy, perfect golden brown color and other times he gets to lazy and will just shove it in the fire.

-he also thinks it's like the coolest thing in the entire world when his whole marshmallow is on fire

-he didn't know how to snap until he was like 16 and always got mad whenever tom could do it 😭

-he was super happy when he realized that he was the taller twin bc tom was allllwayyss talking about how he was 10 minutes older.

-YOU GUYS GOT MATCHING TATTOOS

-he literally loves getting matching tattoos with you, he thinks it's so cute and fucking loves it. somehow he convinced the both of you to get some dumb ones 💀

-when you two were little kids he used to beg the teacher to make you, him and tom partners. lil bro would get down on his knees

-speaking of getting down on his knees, the first time he went down on you he "accidentally" 🤨 bit your clit. I still say he did it on purpose though

-you guys know that thing that Gomez does with Morticia when she reaches her arms to the side and he kisses from her finger tips to the other finger tips? yall know what I'm talking about? WELL BILL DOES THAT

-he likes to sleep naked sometimes. because it's "better for sleeping" but I think it's just because he wants to sleep next to naked you.

-almost drowned tom at the pool 💀...multiple times

-him and tom make you sit by the pool and then make you tell them who's cannon ball was better. and this isn't just a like 16 yr old boy thing. they do this at 33 too.

-bill once stood up upside-down on a keg and drank it 😧. not the whole thing but it was super crazy. you later found out it was because tom didn't think he would do it

-he once jerked off in class and found a way so nobody would notice him EXCEPT YOU 😨 MF YOU WERE TRAUMATIZED

-he also doesn't know how to lock a door. so you'll just walk in and he'll be jerking off, or you'll turn a corner in his house and he'll be jerking off, you go to use the bathroom and he'll be jerking off. "I'm a teenage boy it's what we do!" BRUH GET A HOBBY

-if you don't know german, he'll randomly say dirty stuff to you in german. BUT THEN PROCEED TO GET MAD AT TOM IF HE TEACHES YOU BAD WORDS IN GERMAN 🙄

-he loves sitting in your lap when making out. like obviously he loves it when you sit in his lap, but he LOVES when he gets to sit on top of you and kiss you

-the first time he tried to give you hickies, he wasn't completely sure how to and ended up biting you 💀

-he's not a morning person, we all know this. so if you want to get him out of bed, you will have to drag him out by his feet.

-his dick is big. we all know this, but the first time you tried to give him oral, he accidentally slapped your face w/ his dick 😭

ANYWAYYSSS TY SM FOR THE REQUEST POOKIE I HOPE MY POLNISCH WASNT TOO BAD

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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Single mom reader x daughter (5 year old) and Spencer misses her dance recital and when he goes to make it up to her she calls him dad “daddy…I looked for you in the crowd” “why did you have to leave again”

One of the first things you learned about Spencer was how his job worked. It was something he was very clear about being on his list of cons when it came to dating. Honestly, it didn't phase you. Not when there were some men who lived in the same city that would spend less time with you than Spencer. He was dedicated, loyal, kind, funny, romantic, witty, and not at all put off by your daughter.

Maisie fell in love maybe faster than you did. He's so great with her. Always willing to read her stories and listen to her chatter.

At five, she's a little worse at understanding his schedule than you are. Sometimes he'll be at dinner three nights in a row, and other times, you won't see him for a week.

It's why she sobs into your shoulder on the way to your car after her dance recital. "I looked and he wasn't there." She complains.

You bounce her up and down, soothing her. "Baby, it's okay. We talked about how Spencer can't always be here with us, and momma was there."

She nods, letting you buckle her into the car seat. "I know, and he always comes back."

You tap her on the nose. "You're my smart little girl. Should we get ice cream on the way home?"

"Please, please, please!" She cheers, already forgetting about her disappointment. Oh, to have a five-year-old's brain.

She's happier with ice cream, but it might not have been the best time to pump her full of sugar, so you let her race up the stairs to burn off some energy.

She squeals when you round the corner to your apartment door, and you're immediately concerned, quickly speeding up to catch up with her to see what's wrong.

It's not a bad squeal, it's a Spencer's-here squeal.

He looks like shit if you were being honest, sunken features from not sleeping, but he's smiling, and he's got ice cream.

You greet him with a quick kiss after he's finished hugging Maisie before unlocking your apartment. She keeps looking between the snacks he brought and you, gaining the confidence to ask. "Can I have a second ice cream?"

It's already nine, so you shake your head. "You can have some for breakfast tomorrow if you're in bed in 10 minutes." You challenge her.

"Can Spencer read to me?" She asks hopefully, looking up at him with puppy eyes. You can't say no to them usually, and he definitely can't.

"Of course." He jumps in to say. "I missed it."

She beams at him for a second before she races off, leaving you with him, your perfect boyfriend. "Hi." You say, chest to chest with him as he pulls you closer to him by your waist.

"I've missed you, too." He tells you. "And this." You don't have a chance to ask what he means before his lips are firmly on yours.

"They'll be more of that to come after you've had a long sleep." You tell him, winking at him.

He grins happily, nodding. "I'm going to go read a very quick story then." He says.

You go with him after putting the ice cream in the freezer, kissing Maisie on the forehead and telling her you're proud of her and that you love her before leaving Spencer with her for a story.

"Can I ask something?" She asks him, pulling her covers up to her chin. It's after her bedtime story, and he half assumes she's doing it to stay up later.

He nods, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Anything you want, little one."

"Why do you always have to go working?" She asks with a pout. "I wanted you to come to my dance, and I looked for you in the crowd, daddy."

She doesn't even realize what she's just said, and she definitely doesn't understand the enormity of it for him. It's one title he hasn't had, until now. With the perfect child of his perfect girlfriend, life has never been better.

He's tearful at that one word, but he avoids showing it too much to her. "I know, and I'm sorry. Maybe I can get a special showing tomorrow?"

"Yes!" She agrees, like it's the best idea ever she's ever heard. Her little face lights up and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.

"I can't wait." He tells her. "But you've got to sleep so you'll have energy tomorrow." She nods in agreement and he leans down to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well, princess."

Spencer's upset, almost sleeping already, and he tiptoes out of her room before heading to yours.

Something's wrong when he walks in. He's teary-eyed with a wide smile, looking like something big has just happened.

"What's up?" You ask curiously.

"She called me dad." He says, still in shock.

You open your mouth, mirroring his shock before smiling. "Spencer... thank you." You decide on saying. "You're the best thing to happen to her."

He shakes his head. "No, you're both the best things to happen to me."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

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diagonal-queen · 3 months

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Your blog is very safe, me thinks. Very comfort, if that makes sense lol. I have a request, feel free to ignore this but I can't help but to wonder what a few BSD men would be like with a very mature/maternal and responsible s/o who tends to put themsleves last and burn themselves out (preferably fem, as I am an older sister who has taken on the role of caregiver and project HEAVILY) I'd like to see Fyodor, Poe, Ranpo and Jouno. (You can throw in anyone else if you want)

BSD boys with a self-sacrificing girlfriend

♡ pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Edgar Allan Poe, Ranpo Edogawa, Saigiku Jouno x fem!Reader

♡ synopsis: How are they with a caring and self-sacrificing girlfriend?

♡ cw: Swearing, use of fem titles, she/her pronouns, mentions of stress and burnout.

note: Thank you for the sweet message anon <3 it's truly a shame that you and i are the exact same person who have experienced the exact same burden of raising children we didn't choose to have. but i've moved out now so i'm free!! come live with me queen tf we're besties now. apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Fyodor:

Fyodor is a trad man. I'm sure he has some weird beliefs about how women are supposed to have some normalised feminine traits, but this is too much even for him.

It really pains him to see you be so selfless, truly. Though he admires your kindness and patience, he just wants you to be content. He wants you to be comfortable.

Does he enjoy having what is basically a personal maid around? Yes, yes he does. Does he feel guilty for feeling that? No. But does he recognise that your current self-sacrificing routine is unhealthy? YES HE DOES.

So...he simply does not make you do anything at all. If you want to do something for him that's on you.

If you want to do something for someone *else*, he probably won't really let you. Unless it's like family or something, then he understands, but no, you're not helping that random child get their kite unstuck from that tree no matter how much you want to, myshka.

Fyodor absolutely doesn't involve you in his work. He knows that'll only stress you out more, and that's the last thing you need. As such he keeps you away from his coworkers (especially Mykola. Sorry Mykola lovers)

He comes to value his time spent relaxing with you, because he also acknowledges that he could use a break every now and then as well. There's nothing quite as comforting to him as lounging around alongside you- you don't have to be talking or even doing the same thing, as long as you're there together.

Listen, Fyodor does care about you, and he values your health and wants you to be relaxed and uncaring as much as is possible. But if you, his sweet woman, wants to make him a cup of tea, who is he to turn you down?

Poe:

I don't know exactly how to explain Poe here. Just hear me out

He is genuinely so like stressed and anguished about your lack of self-preservation in favour of caring about others. He constantly thinks about it and writes tragic poems about it and shit

Like he's like 'my love......she does not see herself as i do, as a beautiful star....with every act of kindness her light dims ever so slightly...until she's reduced to nothing.........the irony of the good deeds of man..............;-;'

HE'S SO SAD OKAY HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH AND WANTS TO SEE YOU RELAX FOR ONCE

He will go all out in his attempts to make you feel calm and comfortable and happy. Oh he will buy you SO many presents it's disgusting. He will rent out whole restaurants and like even theme parks and shit if that's your thing. He'll stop at no lengths to give you some respite, and it's honestly quite sweet

All that being said, he does love that you're so attentive and caring about Karl. He's definitely watched you play with him and then started blushing super hard because the word 'parents' suddenly crossed his mind and now he's thinking about children and aaaaaa

ABSOLUTELY writes a scenario in which you can relax. Whatever you want- an empty beach, a forest, a liminal space, he'll write it all for you, and gift you the book so you can go there whenever you want :>

He's basically a sugar daddy, except you're in an actual relationship and it's not all about the money. Your boyfriend just happens to be loaded as fuck

At the end of the day, Poe is such a hypocrite because he himself is such a workaholic that he practically lets it consume him, too!

You're both absolute messes. Drink some water and sleep for god's sake. And for the love of all things good take care of each other.

Ranpo:

Bro knows exactly what's up. Sorry, he's got you all figured out fr

That doesn't mean he won't let you baby him though. At first. He'll just let you, along with everyone else, clean up after him and buy him shit

BUT soon, soon he realises that this behaviour is rather detrimental to your health. He sees the circles under your eyes, he notices these things. And he's like '...oh shit'

Ranpo doesn't have any shame or reservations. He straight up confronts you about it. 'Why don't you ever take care of yourself?' And he's not playing around this time

And no matter what your excuse is, he's like 'not good enough. We're going to get ice cream RIGHT NOW and you're going to talk to me about this. Now lead me to the ice cream parlour immediately'

(I may or may not be paraphrasing this particular quote)

The point is that he presents you an avenue to open up about your struggles, stress and psyche. And he really does want to help- the fact that he gets ice cream out of this is just a bonus

From here on out he'll keep an eye out for you. Every time you find yourself getting overworked or burning out he'll make you take a break. This could be a nap or sending you home or a surprise outing- anything to get your mind off work and people.

Ranpo is a stickler for the rules, sure, but he's also lazy as shit. Any time he doesn't feel like working, you're now not allowed to work either. You have to hang out with him or else (he'll be a little sad)

He doesn't necessarily introduce any...permanent solutions to your predicament, but he does have you looking forward to your couples-down time each day, and that's something!

Over time, you do learn to balance yourself and external responsibilities. And he will absolutely be taking credit for it lmao

Jouno:

Jouno is very...self-important, we'll say. Not like, completely selfish or anything, but very much tends to prioritise his own opinions and time and such.

You make him do a complete reassessment and breakdown of all of his thoughts and beliefs he's built up over the course of his lifetime

/j but really, you're unbelievably different from him. You're both willing to put yourself in danger or wear yourselves down, but *you* don't have anatomical medical adjustments that practically make you invincible.

Jouno wants to protect you- and he's not willing to negotiate. He's not letting anyone hurt you, even if on accident. He's especially not willing to let anybody take advantage of your generous nature, which is probably more likely anyway.

He's such a scary dog actually (lol get it?? get it cause he's one of the Hunting Dogs? DO YOU GET IT-) he'll accompany you anywhere if you ask him to.

When he wants to do something for you, he will do it. You're not lifting a finger miss girl

Like he really will take care of you! When he's off work, of course. His job is kind of important, but you best believe you're getting pampered when Jouno is off the clock.

My mans is romantic as FUCK: cooking you nice dinners, reading to you before bed, massages, cuddles- as well as engaging in your interests alongside you of course

He just thinks it's so cute to see you engrossed in something that YOU enjoy, and will encourage your down time

Jouno is gonna make sure that you take care of yourself too, because when he's not around, who better to look after anybody than you? That's the most important thing to him.

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen

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angelzai · 4 months

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This was coming and I'm sorry about it but-

I need some brain rot on Akutagawa so I wanted to ask if you could do the nsfw alphabet for him as well, please? you can also do just a few letters if you can't manage the whole thing <3

nsfw alphabet - ryuunosuke akutagawa . . . .ᐟ

wc: 2.7k

cw: switch leaning dom!aku, rough aku, gn!reader, spanking, cum eating, creampie, clothed sex, edging, brat taming, dirty talk, nicknames (angel, doll, darling, ryuu), light bondage/choking/impact play, marking, toys, mention of face fucking, inappropriate use of rashomon lol

reid: my lovely niko im so sorry about the wait! i wanted to do the whole thing for u ehehehe i hope you enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

soft sweetie

he’s not super intuitive when it comes to reading what you need, but he’ll ask

tell him, he’s on it

very apologetic if he was rough - he’s got his own little awkward way of being sweet and coming back down to earth with you

“you alright, angel? do you need anything? ‘m sorry if i got a little carried away. you were perfect for me, okay?”

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ASS MAN

adores your ass <3

loves the way his fingers sink into the plush of your asscheeks. loves the jiggle whether it's big or small. loves holding you by your ass even nonsexually. it's just so grabbable, so smackable

he likes his own hands - let him finger you from behind so he can spank and admire your ass while he makes you cum

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he thinks his cum is a nuisance

he’s nervous to cum in you, feels guilty cumming on you, kind of hates the feeling of cumming in his hand - it’s just something to clean up after, he’s indifferent to it.

your cum, however

he wants to drown in it.

your cum is the hottest thing ever to him. squirt on his stomach while he fucks you. make a mess on his fingers. cream on his tongue. he’ll lap it up like it’s nectar.

reassure him what you’re comfortable with when it comes to his - you insist you want him to cum on your face? well, okay, he’s gotta admit you look so pretty on your knees with your tongue lolled out and your lashes fluttering. anywhere else on you? are you sure? he doesn’t want you to feel gross. in you??? god, don’t even make him think about it - i think he’s partially afraid that he’ll find it so sexy and it’ll feel so good to fill you up that he’ll never want to stop. he can’t let you make him any weaker than you already have.

have a firm discussion about that shit and lock those legs around his waist in missionary. he’s a changed man after

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's very conscious of his body and will probably prefer to have sex with clothes on a lot of the time

not that he doesn't want to see your body - he absolutely does - he just doesn't want to make you feel awkward by insisting you be fully naked while he keeps his shirt on

you might be able to draw this out of him, but don't count on it; he'll probably write it off as a kink thing

(worship his body until he loves it as much as you do, please)

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

V I R G I N

i know, i know. again. i know.

but listen. he just doesn’t really have time to focus on this kind of stuff! not that it never crosses his mind, but until he meets you it’s just something he doesn’t spare a passing glance at

he’s certainly had opportunities among the cohort of the mafia, but he’s just. . .not interested in other people

he’s interested in you, though <3

he gets off very quickly when you first start going at it - he’ll happily build up his restraint though (tie his hands behind his back and edge him til he cums untouched <3), especially if it means making you feel good

takes some practice and instruction, but everything you tell him gets burned into his mind. he can make you fall apart in minutes after a few weeks of getting to know your body

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary or doggy - he can’t pick because they’re both so different and have their own perks

missionary? he can palm your chest, hold your cheeks, bite your collarbones, kiss your lips, and watch the way your face grows more and more fucked out with each thrust

doggy? he can grip your ass, pin your arms behind your back, pull you up by your hair, trace the expanse of your back, and reach so deep in you

probably doggy, actually - he loves watching your ass jiggle while he's blowing your back out <3

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not goofy, but sassy.

he's serious about it too - can you say brat tamer?

prefers you to alleviate the tension so he can run with his power dynamic <3 mouth off to him a little! make jokes! it makes it easier for him to put you back in your place and believe me, he enjoys doing it

“what was that? think you’re funny? we’ll see how funny you think you are when you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“try to talk back with cock in your mouth.”

“crying now? this is what you asked me for, angel.”

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

coarse black hair that he prefers to remove entirely, even if he’s not sexually active

it’s just a distraction/buffer from watching how deliciously he slides in and out of you

he’d wouldn’t ask you to remove yours if you really didn’t want to - i think he prefers a little hair on his partner anyway - but he likes how it looks and feels on him

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s a little unpracticed in romance and he loses himself easily - he can be rather rough and selfish when he’s chasing his own pleasure

when he slows himself down and puts his focus solely on your pleasure, however, it seems to come so easily to him that you wouldn’t think he’s all that inexperienced

he does call you by your name a lot during sex, along with a few nicknames <3 his favorites are angel, darling, and doll

goes out of his way every once in a while to set the mood super right just because it’s something he enjoys and feels like he should do for you. the whole shebang with candles and silk sheets! maybe some aphrodisiac chocolates or a surprise involving something you’ve mentioned wanting to try in the bedroom - when he pays attention you’ll feel like the luckiest partner in the world

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

doesn’t do it much - refer to the top of letter c.

when he does, though -

and okay, okay maybe this is my bias showing -

but i think we have another pillow humper here. . .

just THINK with me for a second about how pretty a sight it would be to walk in on him - he’s not usually so pent up that he can’t wait for you, but maybe you’ve been gone a few days on an assignment. you arrive back in yokohama early, but you don’t even check your phone because you’re exhausted; you just walk through the door of your apartment to hear heavy breathing and shuffling from your room

so you fumble to your bedroom doorframe. . .just to find aku on his knees, straddling your bunched up pillow

his button-up hangs open and you can see his stomach flex as he rides the pillow furiously, his dick leaking through his boxers - you catch a glimpse of his pretty, uninhibited face as he breathes your name into a moan

before he sees you and scrambles beneath a blanket, of course

all you can do is giggle and make your way over to him - sure, you’re tired, but you’ve kept your boy waiting so long! the least you can do is help him get off since he’s obviously so desperate for you, right?

“aww, ryuu, couldn’t wait for me? no, no, keep going, show me how you’d get off on my lap.”

you’ll get it for teasing him, but it’s worth it <3

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

bondage!!!

impact play!!!

marking!!!

rashomon’s a big help here - you don’t need rope, and tying is easy!

tie him up, let him tie you up - he’s a fan of either - he could be a rigger or a rope bunny depending on both of your moods.

he’s not opposed to rope, though - the work and the sensuality that goes into it is often more rewarding. plus, he just thinks you look wonderful with a silk rope harness around your chest <3

when you’re not tied, don’t be afraid to smack him around a little. bite him, slap him, choke him, scratch him up. he’s tough, he can take it, and he won’t mind doing it back if you’re into it, too.

he’s a quiet guy, but he likes sound! the wet pap, pap, pap! of your skin against his while he fucks you is just heavenly to him

bigggggg big fan of spanking you as punishment <3 be bratty, get spanked

(he’ll always take care of your after)

(plus, he swears the marks you leave on him are darker, harsher, and last longer after he punishes you - just how he wants them <3)

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

at home, in bed. he’s a simple guy

optimal for privacy, optimal for intimacy, optimal for snoozing or cooking a meal after <3

(i think he also just enjoys being domestic with you. having sex in your home, cooking in your kitchen after, sleeping in your bed. . .)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you in any position of authority

it’s odd because he prefers to be dominant. maybe it’s the thought of putting you in your place, or being the only one to have you at his mercy. he’s not sure but either way, he likes seeing his partner in charge and maybe a little frustrated or bossy <3

you’re heading a report? giving an assignment to your squad during a meeting? in charge of any sort of coordination? you’re getting fucked after. he can’t help himself - you’re so hot and you’re all his.

say his full first name. he knows it’s a mouthful, no pun intended, and he loves when you call him ryuu, don’t get me wrong. it makes him feel cared for a close to you, it’s so important to him

but when he’s in you, fuck - call him ryuunosuke and beg him for it harder. i promise you he’s trying not to cum right then and there

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

public sex

i think you could work him up to an empty-office, locked-door quickie but it’s absolutely not his favorite methodology and he won’t go any riskier than that

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves loves loves giving. there’s nothing he can find that he doesn’t like about it

in fact, it relaxes him

loves how you taste, loves how you sound, loves how you smell, loves fingering you and rubbing you while he does it to draw pretty whines out of you - it’s almost like stress relief for him

far from polite when receiving - he’s a face fucker, sorry y’all

he’ll always reward you handsomely after he uses your throat, promise <3

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

pretty rough, to be honest. it’s his nature - he’s done very few things in his life without violence and aggression, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like the control it gives him.

he can certainly be gentle with you after you show him the ropes - otherwise, this is all he really knows

gentle or rough, he fucks fast. he comes to really love the lewd noises your bodies emit together that way <3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

only at home, really. he’s not a fan of fucking where he could get caught

if you so please, he will split you open against your apartment door before you both leave for work

can’t deny how much he loves watching you disheveled, tucking your shirt back in, as you catch your breath before you lean up to kiss him and say you’ll see him later for more <3

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not super down to get caught or be watched. he’s much more inclined to remind you you’re his in a place where you won’t be distracted by anything or anyone else

he’ll experiment kink-wise, especially with his existing kinks - if you let him use rashomon to bind your wrists, he only wants to see how much further you’ll let him take it from there <3

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

our chronically ill king, only one or two for him

his stamina isn’t great. but!!!

he can alternate between fingering you and eating you out for hours <3 and he often will

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

edge him with a cock ring on

just do it.

he’s impatient but he can’t deny how intense his orgasms are after you do this to him <3 he’ll bitch and whine and cry through it but he secretly loves it

will surely use toys on you if you’d like him to - i can’t see him owning anything other than maybe a plug or dildo he’s experimented with before (that’s a whole post of its own), so introduce him to whatever you’d like

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

loves teasing, hates being teased.

he can dish it but he can’t take it. gets agitated and impatient when you’re dangling yourself in front of him and he can’t have you right away, but he’s nowhere near above flustering you in public, grazing his hands over your ass after you hug him, or tracing your jaw with a wandering finger for minutes at a time while he looks at you with bedroom eyes

he adores you when you’re worked up and unable to keep your hands off of him - aww, you want him? he won’t say this but it’s super cool ‘cause he loves feeling wanted. <3

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s quiet on instinct - lots of silent screams and heaving breaths out of this one

only really moans when he’s ready to cum - this is part of the reason why edging him is so fun, because you can draw out sounds you’ve never heard from him before <3

whisper-mumbles to you through his climax

“fuck, that’s so good! s- so good, doll, thank you! fuck fuck fuck don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop i love you. . .!”

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

on the topic of clothed sex - sometimes grinding through clothes is even hotter to him than penetration <3 there’s just something about how desperate it feels. . .

plop yourself on his lap to make out and grind on him desperately until you’re both cumming through your pants <3 nghhhh

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

kind of hung and he doesn’t even realize it

girthy and almost 7 inches

two pretty veins that split off from each other on the underside <3

i think he curves up a little and gets a bit thinner at the tip

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

low to average - he doesn’t think about it all the time, and it mostly comes to his attention when you bring it up

regardless, he’s unlikely to turn you down even if he wasn’t particularly thinking of it at the moment. just because it isn’t consuming him doesn’t mean he’ll pass up an opportunity to be buried in you <3

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sleepy demon boy

he can bounce back from a blowjob, but after fucking you? whew now he calling me nyquil or whatever nicki minaj said

within minutes, baby

hold him and kiss him while he dozes off <3 he'll mumble and grumble about how much he loves you until he's out

#akutagawa x reader #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #akutagawa smut #akutagawa headcanons #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #angelzai original.ᐟ #devilzai hours.ᐟ #reid’s angels.ᐟ #tehe this was fun i need to write for him more

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celaenaeiln · 8 months

Note

Random question: what are your thoughts on Dick's and Wally's friendship?

They're one of the greatest friendships in DC and that's canon

Flash Plus

Idk about you, but I believe that if you do annual roadtrips with your best friend just because you love spending time with them, then you can't possibly be closer than them.

Actually their friendship is so special that they have an entire comic just dedicated to the two of them being friends. That's how close they are - "Flash Plus".

Wally always covers for Dick

Nightwing (1996) Issue #73

"Go over to best friend's apartment and pretend to hurl."

For sure they're childhood best friends. The ones that grow up together and probably took baths together but still sitting in a hot tub not even six feet apart because they're just that close.

What they call themselves:

Nightwing (1996)

They tell each other everything going on in their lives.

They're so close that Dick actually snuck Wally into the Batcave

The Flash (1987) Issue #210

And then Wally shit talks Batman just to make Dick feel better and gets caught

'LOOK AT THE WAY BRUCE LOOKS SO MAD. HE FULL ON HAS HIS HANDS ON HIS HIPS 😂😂😂 LOVE THAT

"*growl* *growl* keep talking. I dare you. *GROWL*"

Because while Dick acts as the world's emotional support human being, Wally acts as Dick's personal one. He always watches out for his best friend's emotional wellbeing.

For example, when Dick didn't want to reform the Titans, Wally explains why he brought it up. And why he's insisting on it.

"You need this."

The Titans (1999) Issue #1

"My mission is to keep you from turning into your guardian. Batman may be a loner, but you need a family around you." "You'd really join another team just so I could have a social life?"

Wally's personal mission in life is making sure Dick is happy, safe, and healthy.

He tells Dick secrets he NEVER tells anyone else

The Flash (1987) Issue #210

"I only told that story to one person. Dick Grayson...my best friend."

His greatest regret and sorrow is that he doesn't get to see Dick more often

If Wally had his way, Dick would be living with him and Linda since the day they got married.

The only times they fight is when Dick is being too self-destructive and won't listen to reason so Wally ends up getting mad.

When Barbara can't get through to Dick, she sends her failsafe to pick him up and knock some sense into him

Dick is literally depressed and wants to give up after he killed the Joker. He won't listen and so what does Barbara do?

Nightwing (1996) Issue #63

And thank god it works. Even if Dick won't listen to anyone, he'll listen to Wally.

Wally loves Dick an extreme amount.

"The Flash is disassembling an entire collapsed, burning building. He doesn't have super-strength. He's just working as fast as he can. He'll do whatever it takes to get to me."

"He heals fast, but he's probably broken his fingers several times..."

And Dick loves Wally just as much.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #90

"My best friend."

#dick grayson #nightwing #wally west #the flash #robin dick grayson #kid flash #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Miracle-thirteen

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: Y'all are in for a huge mind fuck in this one.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

This can't be. This is so fucked up. Did he know? Why wouldn't he say something?

My good knee bounced in agitation as I sat in the living area of the tour bus, waiting for the guys to finish up the show. With how much pain I was in any time I walked, Noah told me to rest tonight and not worry about working. I, of course, tried to fight it but when the rest of the guys sided with Noah, I retreated to the bus with a pout. I had the option to hang out on the stage to watch the show but with what I found out from my little internet search, the idea of solace was something I desperately needed. After Noah helped me get comfortable on the bus, he left me with a kiss and a promise he'll be back as soon as the show ended.

I wanted to tell him not to rush because I needed more time to think of how I was going to tell him about my mom especially after what I found out. It wasn't like I could ask my mom about it and asking my dad was obviously a dead end, pun intended.

Well, the man who I thought was my dad.

It wasn't much of an extensive search as I looked up Lincoln, whose last name ended up being Boyle since a Lincoln Keoghan didn't exist. Lincoln Boyle lived in the same state my mom did about twenty-five years ago, right before I was conceived. The internet searched gave me previous address' of his and one of them was right next door to the house I lived in the first few years of my life.

So we were neighbors. Maybe that's why my mom kept remembering him. But there wasn't a photo of him anywhere online which made me pause my research for a little while. Then the thought of who my mom thought Folio was came to mind. She thought he was Jonathan, her husband. According to her, he wasn't welcomed home anymore, and I wasn't his daughter."

I rubbed my tired eyes with a long sigh. "None of this makes sense."

Then a thought hit me like a freight train. I had brought some things from home before coming to the venue tonight, old pictures and photo books. I salvaged the ones my mom didn't destroy and fearing she would while I was gone; I brought them with me. I quickly texted Folio since he wasn't on the bus yet. I knew the show ended because there was a growing group of fans hanging around the metal barricade.

Hey, are my bags from home still in the green room?

A few minutes passed before he responded.

No, someone brought them onto the bus awhile ago. I think they're on the undercarriage.-Folio.

"Shit," I muttered.

I had help to come up the stairs of the bus and even that was difficult. How would I do it by myself?

Don't even think about grabbing them. What do you need?-Folio.

Rolling my eyes, I told him what I needed.

I'll be there in a few. Noah was on his way to you but got held up by some fans outside.-Folio.

I set my phone aside and looked out the window behind me to see Noah talking with the fans and posing for a few pictures. Even if he was smiling and nodding along, I knew he was rushing to get to the bus. He was dressed out of his stage gear to a black t-shirt and a pair of black joggers. Almost as if he felt me watching, Noah turned to the bus and gave me a small wave when he saw me. In return, I smiled before hearing Folio ascended up the stairs of the bus with three different photo albums.

"I wasn't sure which one you needed so I brought all of them," he said while handing them to me.

"Thanks," I automatically knew which one so I set the other two aside.

Folio raised a brow as he sat next to me. "What are you looking for?"

"My mom kept rambling about this guy Lincoln and- I started to explain.

"Johnathan," he cut me off. "She thought I was?"

I briefly looked at him while nodding. "My dad."

Folio let out a low whistle. "You heard what she said, right?"

I had been flipping through the pages when I stopped at his words and let out a breath. "About me not being my dads? Yeah. Trust me, my mind is completely fucked up right now especially after what I found out."

Noticing the look on his face, I filled him in on what I found during my internet research all while continuing to flip through the photo album. While I never looked through this one before, I knew it had pictures of me within my first year of life and as I was reaching the end, I almost gave up hope when my heart sank to the pits of my stomach as I froze. My eyes immediately landed on a picture of my parents and me with a man I'd never seen before. We were all sitting on the couch in our living room. I was on my moms lap, who was sitting in between my dad and the other man. The look on my dad's face showed one emotion; rage.

"Who's that?" Folio asked.

Shrugging, I pulled out the photo and turned it over, hoping they wrote something on the back. Over the years when I looked at the picture, I noticed my mom always described what was going on in the picture. I never thought much of it until recently when I realized she did it because she knew eventually, her brain would forget.

September '98. Me, Johnathan, Y/N, and Lincoln Boyle. I told Johnathan about the affair and about Y/N.

I gasped, finally having a face to the name.

"That's Lincoln," I muttered.

Folio hesitated, unsure how to tread with his question. "Do you think he's your real dad?"

Ignoring him, I placed the picture back into the book before flipping through a few more pages, the pictures only showing either me alone or with Jonathan. Until at the very last page, there was only one picture. My mom, Jonathan, and me standing in front of the house I currently live in; the one where I grew up.

October 23 '99. Y/N's birthday. Jonathan, Y/N, and I in front of our new house. I just came back to them after leaving them for Lincoln. Johnathan said he would only allow me back into Y/N's life if I leave Lincoln behind. Even though Y/N isn't his, Jonathan did a great job raising her the last year. I hope she can forgive me when she's older and knows the truth. James would love to meet her.

Forcing the picture back into the book, I slammed it shut before letting it fall to the floor. Anger radiated throughout every cell of my body as darkness took over my vision.

My own fucking mother left me behind to go be with a man she had an affair with. The same man that was my real dad?

"Y/N?" Folio's voice was soft, not knowing if I would explode any second.

I did, and it was intense.

"What kind of mother leaves their own child behind for some guy?!" I bellowed while raising to my feet. "She missed my first birthday! And who knows what else? Why did she come back? Who the fuck is James?!"

Tears burned in my eyes and I furiously wiped them away. Everything about the last twenty-four hours had been incredibly draining and mentally, I was exhausted.

Folio sat on the couch in front of me. "Didn't she say she only had a son, named James?"

I blinked slowly as his words sunk in and the ones I read on the second picture flashed in my mind like a bright neon sign.

James would love to meet her.

"You think James, if he exists, that he's my brother?" My words came out slowly, almost as if I was trying to process it.

Folio ran a hand through his hair. "According to the pictures, your mom disappeared for a year. Plenty of time to have another kid."

I looked back through the photo album to that picture and now getting a good look at it, I could faintly make out my mom's round stomach. I wasn't an expert, but I'd have to guess she had to be at least five months along in this photo.

So did she make Jonathan believe it was his until he found out the truth? Both kids in their marriage was out of wedlock.

I chuckled darkly when my heart shattered, pieces falling into my stomach. The pain was too much. Finding out the truth about my past had broken all of my trust with my mom.

"She left me behind to go have another family with Lincoln," I said sadly with my eyes cast down at the picture before slowly looking up at Folio. "Why didn't she take me with her?"

That's what hurt the most. My mom left me behind with the man who still raised me as his own after knowing the truth. But Lincoln was my actual dad; did he not want me? She left me behind for a year to start a family with someone else but why did she come crawling back?

Folio went to reach for me when he noticed I was seconds away from a breakdown but I smacked his hand away, the sound echoing throughout the bus.

I scoffed. "The worst part about this entire thing? I can't even fucking ask her about any of it because she doesn't remember a single fucking thing!"

Grabbing the rest of the photo albums, I walked over to the trash can that was hidden under the kitchen sink and tossed them inside. I was so angry that the pain in my knee was forgotten as I gritted my teeth together and stomped over to my phone. Folio must have known what I was about to do because he snatched it right before.

"Folio, give me my phone."

He shook his head. "You said it yourself, Y/N. Your mom can't remember anything. It'd be a waste to get answers from her."

A muscle in my jaw tense as I clenched it, not wanting to turn my anger onto Folio when he didn't deserve it. Suddenly, my phone rang in his hand and when he showed me the screen, Lana was calling me. It was late, almost eleven, but not uncommon for her to call me around this time. However, I was in no mood to talk. To anyone.

I ignored the call and gripped the phone tight in my hand, not missing the look on Folio's face.

"It could be about your mom," he said.

"Fuck her!" I spat; venom laced with every word. "I'm done giving a shit about her or her disease. She lied about my entire life. How do I know she's not lying about her Alzheimer's?"

Alright, I knew she was actually sick, medical proof. But that did nothing to calm the rage within my mind.

"I know you're angry-."

"Angry?!" I snapped. "I'm fucking furious, Folio! She lied to me my entire life. She had every opportunity to tell me the truth before she got sick but she probably thought she was off the hook now. You have no idea the mental load taking care of her this last year was like. When I wasn't working, I was home with her watching her like a hawk so she didn't hurt herself or wander into someone's yard. The night before I left for this tour, I found her standing outside almost naked. I had no idea how long she was out there for and I felt so guilty for letting that happen."

"I did all of that for her no questions asked and rarely complained because she was my mother. And what do I get in thanks? I find out that my dad isn't actually my dad, she left me for a fucking year to start a family with my real dad only for her to ditch him and their son together, who could very well be my brother, before crawling back to us? There's all these questions that I'll never know the answers to because my mom can't remember, Jonathan is dead, there hasn't been a trace of Lincoln anywhere and I don't know if I have the energy to look up James."

Tears were streaming down my face now and I choked out a sob. "I'm so fucking exhausted, Folio. Every time something good happens in my life, I get tossed a shit hand and I have to deal with the outcome alone."

Folio shook his head while standing to his feet. "You're not alone. You've got all of us, especially Noah."

"Noah's too good for me. He doesn't need this train wreck for a girlfriend," I cried.

"Why don't you let me decide that angel?"

Whirling around at the deep voice, I saw Noah standing at the top of the stairs that led up to the bus. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and his lips were pulled tight in a slight frown. He was clearly upset with what he heard but I wasn't sure how much he heard.

"H-ho-w long have you been standing there?" I stammered.

"Since you ignored that phone call," he nodded towards the phone clutched in my hand.

Shit. Mother fucker.

He heard everything.

My lips mimicked a fish out of water as I tried to gather words to say but nothing came out. Thankfully, Folio could feel the sudden tension and spoke for me.

"So you heard everything?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "How long have you known?"

There was a slight edge to Noah's voice, and I adverted my gaze from him, feeling guilty that my decision about whom to confide in was causing a rift between Noah and Folio. This was the last thing I wanted since they were friends long before I came into the picture.

I wasn't worth losing a good friend over.

"He's only known since last night," I spoke up finally finding my voice.

Noah's eyes snapped over to me. "Right, because you called him."

Now I was on the receiving end of his attitude and frankly, I wasn't too keen about it.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Because you didn't answer. I thought we moved past this."

"It seems like every time I find you lately, you're with him," Noah dropped his hands to his sides.

Folio went to say something, but I held up a hand to stop him. The anger that I felt about my mom was now intensifying thanks to Noah's accusatory words.

"Kind of hard not to be around Folio when I work for you guys. There's a simple fix for that; fire me," I said.

Noah's jaw ticked. "No."

I shrugged, the tears now drying to my cheeks. "It's for the best, Noah. I don't want to be the reason you two fight. Folio and I are just friends."

"Man, I'd never do that to you," Folio spoke next. "I know how crazy you are about her. You have been since that first time Davis introduced her to us."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a jealous asshole but I want to be the one you come to with these things, angel," Noah reached for me.

I, however, took a step away from him with a new set of tears brimming in my eyes.

"I think it'll be best for everyone if maybe we ended things before we get too involved."

Noah's face fell. "Angel."

Another step away from him. "You heard what I'm going through. The last thing I need right now is a relationship."

"So, you're going to end this because things got too hard for you to deal with?" he snapped.

"I don't expect you to understand, Noah," my voice wavered. "I wanted this to work, believe me. But I'm not in the right headspace right now. Maybe in the future-."

"Don't fucking bother," Noah spat as he pushed passed me to the bunk area of the bus.

Sniffling, I wiped away the tears and gave a weak smile to Folio.

"For the record, I think this is a stupid idea," he pointed to where Noah was. "He'd be willing to do whatever it took to make you happy, Y/N."

"I tried to tell him that maybe down the road but he blew me off. Fuck him." I said with a bit more confidence than I was feeling.

With a defeated sigh, Folio motioned to the door of the bus.

"Come on. I'll help you grab your things. The crew bus hasn't left yet."

"Thanks Folio," I muttered.

I didn't bother to look over my shoulder but maybe if I did, I would have seen Noah go to throw something in the garbage only to end up pulling out my photo books.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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7ndipity · 1 year

Text

Dating Jin headcanons

Seokjin x Reader

Warnings: swearing, teeny bit suggestive

A/N: More headcanons because they're fun and I can't sleep🤷. Working on these lists is making me so soft for the members all over again, it's crazy. Anyway, hope you like them!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Jin is like dating your best friend.

Cause, I mean, you basically are.

He is a hopeless romantic, in every sense of the phrase.

A Classic Gentleman. Opens doors for you, holds your hand on the stairs, shows up for your first date in a suit with bouquet of flowers(even though your just going to the fair or smth)

So awkward when you first start dating, his ears probably stayed red for a solid three weeks.

Does that blushy, flustered laugh thing anytime you complement him. Like yeah, he knows he's Mr.WWH, but hearing it from you just hits different, man.

He admitted before to getting so lost in daydreaming about his future s/o that he's burned food, and I think that would still happen(hopefully to a less severe degree) now that he has you.

Like, you'll be talking about something and look over at him, and he just has that distant look in his eyes. And you're like "Hello?" And he just blurts out something like "We should get a cat." "What?!"

You've heard his dad jokes, now get ready for the cheesiest, cringiest pick-up lines ever.

"I'm not a photographer, but I can picture me & you together." "Please stop." "Are you from Paris? Because Eiffel for you." "That doesn't even make sense!"

His flirt game is actually pretty good tho, he's just so nonchalant about it, that it tends to catch you off guard.

You:*walks in room* Him: "Wow." You:"What?" Him:"I just forgot how gorgeous you were."

Likes taking you on fancy dates, but usually prefers cozier, lowkey dates with you.

Like, one day he'll take you to the nicest restaurant in town, the next, he's dragging your ass to some lake to go fishing.

Cooking dates that start out pretty cute and sweet, but become increasingly unhinged as time goes on(there's a korean youtube channel TryToEat, that I swear is what he would be like)

Calls you things like 'Jagi' and 'Honey', as well as more weird, Jin-esque names like 'Bubble'(he thinks it's cute, just go with it)

Couples outfits that range from matching sweatsuits to those t-shirts that say "if found, please return to Jin" & "I'm Jin".(He claims it's for safety reasons because what if he loses you at the mall or smth?)

Y'all pick on each other constantly.

"You look like a Pokémon." "Big talk for someone built like fucking Dorito."

Like, you've seen him with Jungkook, he's a menace. But now, he's your menace. (Imma pray for you)

But he's the only one allowed to pick on you. Anyone else who tries is in for the cussing out of a lifetime.

House Husband Vibes.

Takes pride in looking after you, whether that's taking care of you when you're sick, or just making dinner on a random Wednesday. It makes him feel needed.

Speaks as if you're already married.

"Think about the kids." "What kids?!" "The cats!" "We don't have cats yet!" "Aha, yet! So we are going have some eventually!"

Has the tendency to finish every conversation by giving you a lil smooch. (Doesn't matter if he was talking to you or someone else, you're getting kisses)

Needy

Literally hangs off of you whenever he's tired or wants attention.

Long, drawn out kisses where he backs you against the wall or counter that can make you forget about anything else other than him.

Likes to lay on you rather than with you. Like, you are his favorite pillow, and he will whine if you don't let him have his pillow time, cause he's a dramatic mf.

"AGH, Y/N-AH LOVES ME NOT! HOW WILL I GO ON?!

The other members don't call him the actual maknae for no reason, he's kinda baby.

You're one of the only people who get to see his more serious sides though, however brief their appearances may be.

Argues with you over the dumbest shit, but avoids actually fighting with you like a plague.

Overall, he's very sweet though and would do anything for you. Idk, he's just so, 💞ugh, yeah Imma go now.

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) | 2.6k

eddie starts dating again, buck doesn't want to be waiting on the couch forever, hen really wasn't expecting this conversation, and eddie may or may not eavesdrop. just a little.

Its not a big thing in the end.

Chimney asks Eddie how the date with Vanessa went over Bobby's minestrone and a loaf of Athena's sourdough, Eddie tells them about the date and subsequent talk with his aunt.

There's a joke about setting Eddie up with a single mom from Denny's school, or at least Buck hopes it was a joke, and then the bell rings.

Its not a big thing.

At all.

Except Buck can't stop thinking about it.

The little glint in Eddie's eye now he's realised that his life doesn't have to revolve around Chris and only Chris.

Buck hates himself for hating that glint.

But he thought—

He's not sure what he thought exactly.

That he had more time?

That Eddie would stay content with just a best friend at his side forever?

Maybe, however foolishly, Buck had thought that being Buck was enough for Eddie too.

But, like a coma dream, it all has to come crashing down around you at some point.

Which is why Buck finds himself hunched over on the couch at three-forty AM whilst everyone else is asleep in the bunk room.

Or so he thinks.

Its Hen's gentle footsteps that have him pulling his head out of his hands for the first time in—

Shit, has he been sat here for two hours?

"Hey, Buckaroo." She smiles at him, eyes scrutinising behind her glasses. "Want some tea?"

"Sure," he says, voice hoarser than he'd been expecting. Hen squints at him for a moment, and he knows with the utmost certainty that his tea will come with a dash of oat milk and a heaping spoon of sisterly interrogation.

He settles against the back of the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and counts his breaths as the sounds of the kitchen soothe his hackles. If there was anyone he was going to talk to about this, it'd be Hen. He's sort of glad that she'd woken up and found him, taken the decision from his hands, because he's not sure he would have sought her out of his own volition.

Hen sits down on the coffee table in front of him, and he gives himself a beat to prepare before picking his head up and taking his mug from her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.

"Woke up and couldn't stop thinking about Nathaniel." Hen shakes her head, something sad wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "Thought some tea might calm me."

"Mm," Buck hums, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"What about you?" She tilts her head at him, kind eyes that kind of make Buck want to cry. "What is it keeping you up tonight? Lightning bolt? Ladder truck? Shooting?"

"None of the above actually." Buck huffs a half-hearted laugh, unwilling to examine the last option too closely.

"So, what is it?" she pushes, gentle as always.

"Vanessa," Buck mumbles into his tea.

"Van—" Hen frowns. "Eddie's date Vanessa?" Buck nods.

"Or whichever date comes next," he clarifies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh," Hen breathes. She blinks, once, twice, three times, then so rapidly Buck wouldn't be able to count them if he could still do math.

"Hen?"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this conversation." She blinks once more before mumbling, "always thought it'd be Eddie I spoke to first."

"What?"

"What?" Hen bats her eyelashes at him, a tight smile on her face. "What is it about Eddie dating that's making you look like a kicked puppy?"

He gets the sense that she already knows the answer, but the lump clogging his throat makes itself known at the prospect of having to answer. He sets his tea down with shaking hands before clasping them tightly in his lap.

"I don't think I can do it, Hen," he croaks, tears burning in his eyes. "I can't watch Christopher whenever he goes out on a date."

"You know you don't have to—"

"Of course, I do," he snaps. "Of course, I do. Because you were right, Hen. I'm not capable of being a father and walking away. So, Eddie will set up another date, and he'll ask me to babysit, and I'll say yes because I love that kid more than I love Eddie, but..." He breaks off here to clear his throat, only succeeds in lodging the lump more deeply in his throat. "But I'll be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to be early or late or right on time. And whenever he's not looking, I'll be looking for a wrongly buttoned shirt or a hair out of place or a faded lipstick mark—" The sob that claws its way to his mouth is ugly and painful, but he manages to swallow it back down before it can wake up the whole station. When Hen's hand lands on his knee, the tears roll down his cheeks and it becomes infinitely harder to catch the sobs before they can break free. "I can't do it."

"Then, don't," Hen says simply.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Have you considered telling him the truth?" She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Buck kind of wants to fall into his arms and become a little kid again.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Maybe," she hedges. "But Eddie hasn't even started dating yet, and you're already heartbroken. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I lose him completely," Buck bites out. "I can handle losing a part of Eddie. I can handle losing movie nights and lasagne four times a week. I can't handle losing all of him."

"Who says you'd lose all of him?"

"He doesn't feel the same way, Hen." He shakes his head, scrubs at his tear-straked cheeks.

"He doesn't know you're an option," she argues.

"Hen, I can't, okay? I just can't." He buries his face back in his hands. "If it was the other way round, you know, he'd be able to tell me. But I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him, I risk losing him and Christopher. If he tells me, he risks losing just me."

"There is nothing just about you, Buck," Hen says solemnly, leaning forward to cup his face and tilt his head towards her. "Especially not to Eddie."

"Hen—"

"And you know everything Eddie does is for Christopher. Have you considered that maybe he's not telling you because he's scared that both he and Chris, would lose you?"

"That's not true, though. He knows there's nothing that would keep me away from Chris."

"Does he?" Hen asks. "Because you don't seem to know that Eddie would do nothing to keep you away from Christopher."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Hen fixes him with a look, one where all her wisdom pools in her eyes and keeps you in place.

"I can't tell him, Hen." There's a finality to his words that shocks even him.

He makes his way up to the roof without looking back.

----------------

Its a long seven hours before he finds himself changing into his civies in the locker room, the torturous drag of Eddie's elbows against his as they unbutton their shirts. Normally, they'd be discussing plans for their days off, maybe splitting the chores to lighten the load. Today its stiflingly quiet. Buck wonders if its because he's normally the one to carry the conversation, or if Eddie knows something is wrong.

"Hey, uh, you free to watch Chris on Friday?"

Buck crouches down to slip his work shirt into his duffel and hide the grimace on his face.

"Always," Buck throws a grin over his shoulder. "What time?"

"Uh, seven?" Eddie says after a moment of hesitation. Buck tries not to read into it.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He grabs his duffel and makes for the door.

"You know you don't have to, right?" Eddie's voice stops him on the threshold. Buck steads himself with a hand on the doorframe. "I could get Pepa to watch him, or Carla, or, hell, Hen owes me a favour."

"Eddie," Buck clears his voice of its wobble and plasters on a smile as he turns around, "I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid like crazy."

"Yeah, I do." Eddie's face does something complicated at that, his voice so unbearably soft that Buck's heart feels like its been wrapped in barbed wire.

"Friday at seven." Buck winks at him and then he's gone, hoping he makes it to his Jeep before the tears fall.

----------------

Friday rolls around slowly.

Buck wallows in his loft for the first day, dodging texts from a sympathetic Hen and a suspicious Maddie. He only answers Eddie's, because he's pathetic and can't help lunging for his phone every time Eddie's name appears on his screen, but he manages to avoid initiating any conversations.

If Eddie notices, he doesn't mention it.

The second day he's on shift, suddenly much more difficult to hide from Hen's big eyes and Chimney's squinted ones. Even Bobby shoots him a few odd looks throughout the day. But Eddie stays mostly buried in his phone, texting someone with a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Buck has to resist the urge to stalk across the loft, rip the phone from his hands, and frisbee it right out of the bay doors.

The third day, the first twenty-four hours of their forty-eight off, Buck spends moping on his incredibly unyielding couch, all the while fantasising about rough blue fabric and the lump in the left couch cushion that's as familiar to him as his own hands.

The fourth day, Friday, has him waking up nauseous and pushing himself dangerously too far on a run for someone whose stomach only contains water. He forgoes lunch for a nap that only makes him feel worse, showers when his stomach complains at him with a rather loud growl. Then its just a few hours of focusing on the fact that he gets to see Christopher tonight.

Before he knows it, he's pulling on a soft blue tee and walking out the door.

The drive to the Diaz house stretches on forever, every tick of his blinker and honk of an angry Angelino sounding like a taunt, but he pulls into the driveway much too soon.

With a deep breath, Buck clambers out of the truck and walks up to the front door with the ridiculous notion that it feels like there's a gun digging into the small of his back. He doesn't bother knocking, not after quiet confessions over a half-packed lunchbox in the kitchen, and bursts through the door with a grin.

"Where's my favourite Diaz?" he calls out, toeing off his shoes and drifting towards the living room.

"At a sleepover," Eddie says gently, popping out from the kitchen with a stranger jittery energy clinging to him.

"Oh." Buck shuffles awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought—"

"I know I'm only second favourite," Eddie mumbles, a light flush to his cheeks as he looks up at Buck with those dangerous brown eyes of his, "but how about a night with this Diaz?"

"W-what about your, uh, date?" Buck asks, hoping the vicious curl of the word is only in his head.

"He just walked through the door," Eddie breathes.

Buck isn't proud of it, but he's not really sure there's any other way he was ever going to react to that. He freezes. Cartoonishly so. A full-on, full body freeze frame. Every muscle in his body goes taut with shock, his lungs still mid-breath, even his heart misses a beat or two in the pause.

He can't have heard it right. He can't have.

Except Eddie's staring at him with those unbelievably fond eyes of his, the rosy apples of his cheeks glowing in the dim lamplight.

Or its a joke. Yeah, a prank.

Except Eddie is chewing on the inside of his lip in the way he does when he actually is panicking, his hands flexing at his sides.

But Buck thinks hope is much more dangerous than a lightning bolt, so he doesn't let himself believe it.

"Ha-ha. You get cancelled on, Diaz?" Buck rolls his eyes and pushes past Eddie into the kitchen.

He freezes again.

The table is laid for two, a candle in the middle even though Eddie always blows out the tealights at restaurants, a bottle of wine left to breathe next to a tray of Buck's favourite enchiladas. The fancy napkins are folded into triangles on Eddie's chipped plates, Buck's favourite fork in the whole world resting on the tablecloth—the tablecloth—because apparently Eddie knows that Buck likes certain forks better than others. Eddie's shitty Bluetooth speaker is on the windowsill, the faint crooning of Hozier filling the room.

If just one drop of hope feels like a lightning bolt, this hope that rears to life in him now feels like a ladder truck.

Buck spins around to face a hesitantly hopeful Eddie. He looks smaller than he is suddenly, with a sheepish smile tucked into one cheek and his eyebrows high above those molten pools of brown, so full of love that Buck gets a little breathless with it.

"Eddie, what—"

"I heard you talking to Hen," Eddie says, not pausing in his explanation to give Buck time to worry that this is a prank because he knows Buck too well. "And she was right, Buck. I never knew you were an option." He tilts his head, tender eyes apologetic. "If I had have thought there was any way you could feel the same about me, I never would have gone on any date at all." He sighs, taking a careful step closer. "I thought I couldn't have you like this, so when Pepa suggested dating, I thought it might be a good way to move on. But I was fooling myself, Buck, because there's no moving on from the love of your life."

"Eddie." Buck opens his mouth on a thousand unknowable words before taking the two strides to wrap Eddie in a hug. "I love you," Buck breathes into his neck, eyes squeezed shut against the happy tears threatening to fall.

"I love you too," Eddie replies, wrapping his arms around Buck a little tighter than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart, Eddie."

"You broke mine first," Eddie whispers into his shoulder.

A pang of hurt in his chest has Buck pulling back to meet Eddie's eyes, arms still wrapped around his waist.

"When?"

"You died on me, Evan." Eddie sniffs, looks away for just a second before his eyes return to Buck with a longing that makes Buck want to do something truly insane. "You left."

"I came back."

"Three minutes was enough to break me in two," Eddie confesses, quiet and tender and overwhelming.

Buck thinks he's done quite well for lasting this long without jumping him, but he's no saint, so when he can't think of a reply to Eddie's heartbreak, he leans forward to steal it from his lips like he's ready to carry the weight of Eddie's heart as Atlas.

Its a dizzyingly gentle slide of lips at first, Buck afraid to shatter the illusion lest he be left holding the broken shards of his heart. But then Eddie's hand slide up from his shoulders, one to cup Buck's neck, the other to tangle in the curls he left loose after his shower, and something snaps in the miniscule atom of space between them. Eddie's mouth opens under his, and Buck readies himself to dive in when Eddie beats him to it, pulling an embarrassing noise from the bottom of Buck's lungs. Eddie pulls back with a wheezing gasp, dropping his forehead to Buck's as his chest heaves. Buck doesn't think he's ever seen anything quite as beautiful as kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz trying to find his self control.

"Come on," Eddie murmurs against his lips, "let me wine and dine you, Buckley."

Neither of them makes any move to separate any time soon.

#sami rambles #had this idea and was possessed by the spirit of eddie diaz himself #give it a chance please i beg of you #911 spoilers #911 show #911 fox #episode coda #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic #buck x eddie fanfic #buddie #buck x eddie #hen wilson

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ghouljams · 9 months

Note

GHOUL I LOVE YOU omg you've been feeding me so well I don't deserve you. I've been obsessed with your demon au (frothing at the mouth, salivating, gripping into my bedsheets as I read all of it) and I had an idea. I was reading a fic, which I'll link down below don't worry, about ghost dying in combat and coming back to you in actual ghost form. How do you feel about the idea of ghost going to hell but they turn him into your demon? He promises he'll never leave you, goes on a mission and just...never returns. But Ghost is not only your lover, but he's a legend in hell and why would hell waste a good soldier? They send him back up to you........

You become the new war machine, your boots digging into still hot flesh as you march over the bodies that Ghost has torn down. You see him across the way, watching as he slaughters anything and everything that stands in his path. Ghost isn't fighting for the task force anymore, he's fighting for you. And heaven will burn before anything happens to what's his.

Sorry if this is kind of a rant but I have this horrible craving for angst and violence.

https://www.tumblr.com/ceilidho/727096787831341056/prompt-you-keep-seeing-apparitions-of-a-dead?source=share

OK ON GOD I AM IN LOVE WITH THAT FIC holy shit

Alright another real quick demon au for the Ghosty boy, not exactly what you said but... I think you'll like it

There are things that are meant to be seen, and then there are demons. Human eyes were never meant to look upon such wonders, such living machines, all perfectly curated musculature and instinct. You're lucky if you never catch a glimpse of one. Such beauty could drive a person mad. To see what humanity would never touch but always strive for would be a curse. One that would haunt and eat away at you until there was no choice but to give in to it, and hopefully become one of them.

You press your hands to your mouth, leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, unsteady from the way you bounce your leg. Nothing more they could do. That's what doctors always said on TV, you didn't think you'd actually hear it in real life.

"We just have to wait and see," They tell you, and you nod. You all nod, because you understand what those words mean. The 141 is always prepared for tragedy, never more so than in the long hours you spend waiting for Ghost to wake up. He's crammed so full of tubes and wires, the nurses rotating different syringes of medicine through his IVs, you hardly recognize him.

You take shifts. One of you in the room with him at all times, cramped in the uncomfortable hospital chair. All of you figuring he'll want a friendly face when he wakes up, and drawing up a schedule. Damn military training. Still, it's good. It means when you relieve Soap of his watch you know he's going to grab some sleep, the same way you know Gaz will be by when your shift ends in the wee hours of the morning.

You must doze off even with a nap under your belt, because when you wake up it's freezing in Ghost's hospital room. You check your watch, 03:00. The witching hour. Nothing good ever happens at three AM. You sigh and get up to ask the nursing station for a blanket, if you're cold you're sure Ghost is too. If he can even feel cold like this.

Something deeply wrong and horribly familiar grabs your hand.

You tense and turn. Ghost stares at you, his fingers tight around yours, your stomach drops and you rush to slam your hand on the call button. He's awake. He's awake and it's chaos. You spend the next few hours talking to doctors, watching nurses pull tubes out of Ghost's throat and perform tests on every patch of skin that isn't bandaged. You stand outside his room and talk to Price over the phone, make sure the rest of the team knows Ghost's back from the dead and passing everything with flying colors.

You don't mention what you don't want to say out loud, what you can't even put a name to. Something in his eyes, they're darker than they used to be. Not the color but the depth of them. Something in his voice is richer, something about the way he moves feels... more. The room is freezing and no one can get the temperature up.

You think someone will notice. When the rest of the 141 shows up to visiting hours you think one of them will see what you do. You hope. They don't. If they do, none of them mention it. The only difference is in the way Ghost keeps reaching for you, keeps taking your hand, pulling you to sit on the edge of his bed whenever you're close. Your relationship wasn't a secret, but he's never been one for PDA. Now you can hardly come within arms length without him touching you. Soap teases you for it, and Price is happy enough just having Ghost back not to mention it.

Gaz asks if you're alright when you excuse yourself from the room. The two of you speaking quietly by the vending machine. You pour out your fears to him and ask if he's noticed anything, anything, different about Ghost.

"Just that he seems glad to be back," Gaz tells you, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. It's the way he says "back" that gives you pause. Back. Back from where? Were you the only one that had been holding out hope he wasn't dead? Had the rest of your team been sitting in the hospital room with what they thought was a corpse? You don't push it further, too afraid what Gaz will say next. They're glad he's alive and that's all you have to hold onto.

It's almost like nothing happened when he's discharged --sooner than anyone expected, sooner than a normal man should've been after what happened-- and you almost start to believe nothing did happen. You can ignore the scar on your shoulder, the only evidence that Ghost ever spared you his fate. You can ignore the way he slides his hand against the curve of your back when he never used to. You can ignore the fact that, that's all he'll do, just touch you. Like he's reassuring himself you're there. He hasn't come to your room, he hasn't pulled you into his lap, he hasn't kissed you or called you anything but your name, and you're the only one who seems to notice.

You're the only one that raises an objection when Ghost is cleared for duty. The only one with no real reason to object. The way he stares you down afterwards... he knows that you know something you shouldn't.

It's not until you're actually in the field with him that you realize what it is, where he must have come back from. It's the way he pushes his mask up, hunched and panting over a pile of corpses. The way he wipes his bloodied hand against his lips. The dark black smoke that he forces from his lungs with each exhale. The inky veins of his hands, his arms. The sulfur smell that sticks in your nose. Fire and brimstone. He looks at you like a wild animal, any thoughts behind his eyes unfathomable and inhuman.

He's perfect, you think. A perfect machine, made just for this. Your Simon, wrong in all the right ways.

"You're not supposed to see this," He rolls his shoulders back, tips his head towards you as he licks the blood off his lips. You raise your gun, keep it trained on him. He takes a step towards you, and you shoulder your rifle, stand a little more purposefully.

"Don't move," You warn him.

"Put the gun down," Ghost warns you in turn. He takes another step towards you, you slip your foot back, preparing to run. His eyes dart over your shoulder. "Price tell them."

You turn to look and feel your heart drop as Ghost grabs your gun. No one's there. Why would they be?

Ghost rips your gun from your hands and spins you, twisting your arm behind your back. You struggle, stomp on his insole, he twists your other arm behind your back to hold you like a wild dog. Barking and biting at nothing. When you finally do sag against his hold, it feels the same as always. You expected the dread of a death sentence to seize you, but it's like sparring.

"I missed you," He murmurs, pulling you against his chest. Ghost's head drops, his covered nose against your neck, breathing you in. The ridges of his mask are uncomfortably inflexible.

"You left me," You bite back, all the misplaced anger pushing itself to the surface. How could he take that hit for you? Didn't he know how much it would hurt you? What happened to always coming home? What happened to never leaving you alone? He died. He fucking died, and he came back wrong and no one will believe you.

"I know," He presses his lips to your shoulder, to your still aching scar, "I'm sorry."

"You left," You can't think of anything else to say, can't think of any other words to break on your tongue. You emotions are running wild. Tears prick at your eyes, anger, frustration, grief you never let yourself touch. It all hurts more than you can put into words.

"Never again," Ghost tells you, he's so warm and solid behind you, he still holds you like you might make a run for it, "I'm all yours now, yeah? Never leaving you again," He kisses your jaw, you can smell the blood on him, "I'll claw my way out of as many graves as I have to, deal?"

You nod, feel something heavy settle in your chest, feel Ghost shiver behind you. That's what you're afraid of, you think, that he'll keep coming back. Different each time.

"Not different," Ghost hums in your ear, "Better."

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #demon!Ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #spooky boy ghost #let's make a fuckin' deal baby let's gooooooo #I miss writing horror I should write more horror

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ferrari-desmosedici-wwe-fc · 15 days

Text

I hate F1 fangirls so much

Especially those about Ferrari drivers

I don't know any Ferrari fan girl who loves so much and at the same level both Charles and Carlos

They just can't stop trying to create a civil war between them every 5 minutes

On a side we have Leclerc babies who think "Leclerc is a hero, he's superman, he's way better than max verstappen, he's the most perfect human being, the best pilot in history, he's constantly fighting against everything and everyone and he's always winning, even if he doesn't win a race since Austria 2022 but who cares, he is already a world champion to me"

On the other side we have Sainz babies: "Sainz is perfect in everything he does, he's never wrong, he could kill everyone, he could finish every race p20, it doesn't matter, he is perfect and he is always right, he is my dad, my daddy, my brother and my son, he is the best driver, the most clever, he is the real and only competitor against max, he's the only one who could stop the wars in the world, who could solve the world hunger problem, he is the Spanish god and everything rotate around him"

And obviously in every single fucking post in which you talk just about Leclerc alone, the formers needs to say "he is better than Sainz, no matter if Sainz win all the other races, Leclerc > Sainz, no matter if Sainz will be world champion and Leclerc won't, Leclerc > Sainz, I support Ferrari but I don't give a f**k about Ferrari, i just want to see Leclerc and if he'll join alpine even if I'm a Ferrari fan then, idgaf Ferrari, let's go alpine, but remember I'm a Ferrari fan uh and I just want Ferrari to win, but if it's Sainz to win then who cares, there is Leclerc and then 19 other drivers"

When there is a post just about Sainz alone: "this is a real pilot, not like that other shitty one, the real and only Ferrari driver, Sainz >>> Leclerc, Sainz wins and Leclerc fails, but when Leclerc finish ahead of Sainz it's unfair, I'm a Ferrari fan but they should give penalty to Leclerc, how dares him to be better than Sainz? Ferrari fan but who cares about Ferrari points when there are Sainz-Leclerc battles? Carlos should throw out of the track Charles to show who's better and if Carlos hit him and pass, it means that Carlos deserves it"

There are also other posts who totally don't talk about any of the two or maybe it's about the whole team but there is always a comment "uh oh, just to be sure, that Ferrari driver is better than the other Ferrari driver, it's clear, it's obvious, we're all Ferrari fans but the team can fail and burn, I just want to see C happy"

I hate these people, I'm a Ferrari fan, I like a bit more Carlos, but I just care about the fucking team. Leclerc is unlucky as fuck but he is very talented, people talk too freaking much about him, I hope to finally see him winning a race again soon, I like when they make some battle during a race but just for a bit, then I would kick both of them because if you two just dare to go out together and make a double DNF... 🤬

Carlos is very good too, I want them to cooperate more, I always love so much seeing p1-p2 Ferrari, no matter who first and who second

So anyway, please, I beg you, stop doing Carlos vs Charles every single day on social, who cares, just wish both the best, if you don't like one of them just ignore, I don't see this amount of civil wars in the other teams but it's a positive thing maybe you know?

Because in the other teams there is one pilot clearly better than the other always (and for real this time), I feel like Ferrari is more balanced and it's a positive thing because when things go well, we have the best pair of drivers

Sorry the very long post, but the next time I see someone writing again a sentence saying "Sainz is better, Leclerc shit" or "Leclerc is better, Sainz shit", I'll block everyone 🚫😡

#F1 #Ferrari #Carlos Sainz jr #charles leclerc #Stop it #No civil war between them again #They're both great #They both make mistakes

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slothspaghettiwrites · 9 months

Text

For my sugar baby!ransom peeps:

Big Bills Get My Attention

Warnings: ass/anal play (eating), teasing, dirty talk, power exchange dynamic, sugar relationship, slight degradation, ransom in a thong, semi risky/public setting, keeping the boss busy while on a conference call, no editing

A/N: credit to @howdoyousleep3 (edit bestie I can't recall why I've credited you but honestly, it's deserved.)

The message from an hour ago burns in his thoughts as he showers.

My office, 7:30. Wear the blue if you wanna earn that ski trip.

The blue one. Shit. What are you going to do to him? His cock chubs up even as he thoroughly cleans up after his intense work out of the club. Ransom ignores it. Focus is key if he is going to make it to your office in time.

If you were planning to work so late that he had to go to your office for this, it meant you were stressed. It meant being on his best fucking behaviour because you always knew, by some fucking bullshit, if he took the edge off before seeing you. He wanted the night to end with him cumming across your desk, or god with his cum ruining your trousers.

You've ruined his slacks enough time, maybe tonight he'll finally get to return the favour.

He finishes up quickly, goes through his standard skincare routine even though he will have to do it again after your session, and gets dressed. The blue thong is snug against his crotch and he swears to himself the entire drive into the city that he only fucking wears them because it makes you more generous. It has nothing to do with how the string splits his ass cheeks right in two, the tantalising feeling that has him shifting in the seat of his beemer.

He parks in the garage under the building and pulls his security card from the glove box. The security guard nods at him as he swipes through, and he swipes it again in the lift to get to your floor. The lights are dimmed and your assistant has already gone home as well. You prepared for this session as well then.

The door to your office is open. Ransom takes a steadying breath. Ski trip, long weekend with the boys, fucking some snow bunnies. He focuses on the important things as he steps into your room.

But the air is knocked out of his lungs anyway.

You sit behind your desk, jacket off and the buttons of shirt undone to the centre of your chest. It shouldn't be so fucking hot to see you like this. You look like a regular person, but the power you possess goes right to his cock anyway.

"Strip." You don't even look at him when you bark the command. "You're 10 minutes late, Hugh."

Fucking traffic. He busted his balls to get over here. Ransom removes all his clothes except the thong while you clear a space on your desk. When you finally look at him you give him an appraising look, one that doesn't give away if you're pleased with how he looks. His chest tightens when you raise an eyebrow at him.

"What do you say?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Good boy," you hum. "Now get that pretty body over here. Want to look at your ass while I have listen to this fucking board meeting."

Thank fuck. Ransom walks over to your desk and grab hold of his hips. Your fingers dig into the meat of him, forcing him to bite his tongue to stay quiet. The inspection of him continues, your eyes assessing quickly, your hand moving to cup his bulge through the lacy material of his panties. The longer this goes on, the more his cock chubs up. You kiss it before turning in around and bending him over your desk.

With his ass directly in your face, he is goddamn happy he started taking waxing seriously. The feel of your hand running over his smooth skin sends pleasure up his spine and straight back to his cock. Your desk is cold on his skin as he settles in.

"Don't make a sound," you say before the familiar chatter of the video call comes on.

Ransom settles in, crossing his arms under his head. He's not concerned about being seen, your camera is off the moment you say your greetings. Voices drone on, discussing shit that maybe he should care about if he took his fake contractor role seriously, but he doesn't.

They don't pay his bills. They don't give him black cards to private clubs or make sure he gets tables at restaurants, you do. So he focuses on the tease of your hand. The way your fingers scrape across his low back, your thumb rubbing circles into his ass cheek. He sighs, if this is all it takes to get a ski trip paid, for he could die a happy man.

It's only when your mouth touches his skin that makes any complaint.

"Jesus," he hisses.

The hard pinch on his ass is the only warning he gets before you are speaking again to the directors. You say something about moving some shit to next quarter, then your mouth is back on him.

You place open mouth kisses on his ass while your fingers tug at the string of his thong. He clenches his fists at the tension, fighting the urge to squirm. It's not uncomfortable, but the tug against his half hard cock makes him want more.

And you have always been so good about giving what he needs, more than what he wants.

Your tongue slides from his half exposed sac to his hole and Ransom nearly comes off the desk. Both of your hands move to his ass cheeks and press him wide open.

"Stay quiet and be a good little slut for me, Hugh. Let daddy treat this hole right."

Oh fuck he hopes you muted your mic. He hopes you don't stop either. Your tongue laps at his hole over and over again, your spit dribbling down to his balls. His cock is fully hard and furious it isn't getting attention. Ransom rolls his hips experimentally, just to see what you'll do.

"No," you pull away and he thinks he's fucked it. "Send Johnson to me if he keeps saying stupid shit."

When your mouth returns to his asshole, you push his hips down into the desk, adding pressure to his cock. He doesn't fight the instinct. Ransom humps your desk like the slut you want him to be while you make a mess of his hole. His breath comes out faster and faster, higher too as he tries to keep his noises to a minimum.

God does he want to fucking cum though. He needs it. His balls draw up and his spine tingles. Your tongue pushes into the ring of his ass and stars fucking burst behind his eye lids. His hips stutter as he loses himself to his climax, to the mess he is leaving on your desk.

The euphoria washing over him keeps going, you keep going, until his hole is too sensitive. His cum cools against his skin, the lace sticking to his cock, but you don't stop.

"Daddy," he whines as softly as he can.

You fucking slurp at his ass in response. It's only when he is panting and his cock is valiantly trying to get hard again that you pull away. Your fingers clench around his ass cheeks and he whimpers.

"I know, pretty boy, you stay quiet. Let me have this peach until the meeting's done. Then Daddy'll give you a proper good bye before your trip."

#a sloth writes #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x daddy!reader #sub!ransom #sub!ransom drysdale #sugar baby!ransom drysdale #gn!reader #ransom drysdale smut

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Note

Hello, I'm new to your blog but absolutely loved your Bo x Sleepy S/O headcanons. Was wondering how you think Bo would handle a very independent stubborn reader that doesn't know how to ask for help; getting far too ill to be going around the house. Maybe with a sprinkle of bashfulness? Hope this ask happens to be your cup of tea, I'm new to the blog and honestly haven't sent an ask to anyone in ages XD Thanks in advance, sending you best wishes ^u^

Welcome to my blog, new friend! This is just my cup of tea, too. I wrote this a while back when I was sick that has all three brothers! (pst, @fluffy-little-demon and @leewalkin, thought of y'all when I made this)

Enjoy!

Bo with a sick s/o

Bo is like a weed: He'll thrive under any condition.

You, on the other hand, have an HP of 3 plus 10 fall damage.

But you're one determine motherfucker.

You crowed out of bed, swaying side to side. You feel the world weighing you down and you just want to sleep... but you have work to do around the house.

Besides, you don't want to quit now. You're so close to proving to everyone you belong in Ambrose, so why is your body betraying you.

Then you fall down the stairs...

Bo nearly drops the coffee pt on his hand, but he caught himself and placed it back on the burn. He set his mug down on the kitchen counter as he leaves the kitchen. Sometimes, Vincent would miss a step if he go too little sleep. As much as he doesn't say it, he hates it when his twin over does it (thought they are almost done with their mother's dream).

"Vincent?" He asked coming to the steps. "Hey! Get your Vincent van Gogh waxed ass back to," he stops at the bottom of the steps and sees you with your face in the wooden floor, "...bed." He kneels down and slowly lifts you into his arms, resting your head in his shoulder. He's not in a rush or sure if he should be worried about you. "Darlin'? Y/n?" He asked, shaking you slightly. "Sweet heart?"

"I'm good, Bo," you murmur, pushing yourself weakly against him. You tried to get up, but you felt your knees buckle and you slouched against his arms. "I need to get work done."

"Honey, words are slurrin'," Bo raises a brow at you. "Bed. Sleep. Now."

You shake your head as you tried to move again. "I can handle it."

"Ya can't even stand."

"I don't need no man to tell me shit," you playfully smack his chest, but your hand felt too heavy. You leaned against his chest and hummed at his warmth. "Warm... you're so warm."

You felt the back of his hand, and he clicks his tongue. "Sweetheart, yer burnin' faster than heart burn on a Sunday." You felt his arms under your legs as he lifts you up. He carries you upstairs back to your room.

"No, no," you whined. "Don't..."

"Yes," he replies. He places you back in bed and tucks you in. Again, his hand went to your forehead. He holds a still face as he looks back at your personal bathroom you two share. "I reckon I'll hav' Les go t'town for fever meds an' oranges."

You giggle as you felt your brain melt fast. "You talk funny, Bo."

He doesn't smile or smirk like he normally does. He leans down and kisses your head. "Sleep, honeydew, 'n I'll be back."

*****************

By the time you wake up again, it's in the afternoon and you smell soup. Bo came up the steps with a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice. It's hard fro you to keep your eyes open, but he caught you in time.

He placed the food and glass down and takes out a bottle of medicine from his pants pocket. "Keep yer eyes open, love," he says, his voice softer than normal. "Ya need to eat an' move around some."

He sits on the side of the bed and helps you sit up. Your bones ache and grind together, and you sigh in relief as soon as your back is against the bed frame. You felt his hand against your forehead and he shakes his head, sighing disappointingly. His hand moves and brushes your back.

"Can you feed yourself?" He asked, his voice teetering on annoyance.

"Yes" you lied, your voice close to a whisper. It's getting harder to keep your eyes open. You hate that you're stuck here. Hate that you're weak in front of him. Your hand grips the spoon but your fingers can't move it. You try again but it doesn't work.

Bo's calloused hand pushes your hand away gently and takes the bowl. He scouts closer... then a spoon comes up. "Open an' blow, darlin'," he warns at the end. "Hot." You do as your told and you allow him to feed you. "There ya go, y/n. Goin' so good," he praises lightly, his voice heavy in his southern drawl. "Doin' real good now. After 'is, o.j. an' medicine."

You blushed at his words and looked away. "You think I'm good?" You asked bashfully.

"T'best, darlin'," he reassured, flashing you a charming smile. "Doin' real good." He put the soup down and held the glass to your lips. "Slow sips." He tilts the glass as you do what you're told as you drunk slow and steady. You motioned your hand to him to show you're done and he sets the barely half glass down. "Almost done. Look at ya," his hand rubs your knee, "ya such a star."

"A star?"

"A star," he gives you a smile.

He gives you your medicine and lays you back down.

As he leaves, he stops at the door and looks back at you. His heart falls a bit when he sees you breathing slowly, too slow for his liking.

He leaves for what felt like minutes and he's right back in your room. He takes off his work clothing and keeps his black boxers and white tank-top on. Bo comes on the other side of the bed and pulls you close. You rest on his shoulder and he brushes your hair.

"Yer sick," he whispers. "Fever ain't breakin', sweatin' lik' a sinner in church, sleepy and in need of help." His voice echoes in his chest, making you feel like you hear him in a cave. "Closed the shop, finished t'kill, Vincent's got a new project... hav'ta be a hen over a sick little chick." Bo's hand racks through your hair as you started to feel sleep take you again. "Sleep, y/n. There'll be monsters to fight t'morrow."

"You're not a monster," you hummed. Lazily, you lifted your hand and caress his check. "You're not a monster."

He lifts a brow and looks at you. He doesn't stop rubbing your back. "What am I then?" He asked curiously.

You snuggle up against his side and flutter your eyes close. You feel as safe and snuggled against him, his warmth lulling you to sleep. "A helper," you babble sleepily. "Best... helper..."

As you sleep, he kept an eye on you as a smile crept over his lips. He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. "Sleep well, birdie," he whispers against your skin. "Sleep well. Dream of a better place than here."

Bo pulls you a little closer and kisses your forehead and ends up sleeping with you in his grasp.

#bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax (2005)#bo sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfic #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair house of wax #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slasher fanfiction #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #cliff answers

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hanasnx · 4 months

Note

uhh if this is open for more scott thirsts..? but you have big nerd like glasses and he’s always calling you four eyes and shit but he eventually gets what he wants and you’re on your knees sucking him off and as much as he wants to cum all down your throat he has a different idea, he pulls out and cums all over your face but mainly your glasses, that shit eating grin as he admires his handiwork..

MINORS DNI 18+

There's something about making fun of a girl with a lot to prove. SCOTT BARRINGER plays the game well. He sees a chick with fat glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a high-and-mighty attitude, and he knows she's due for a chance to show what she's made of. He did it all the time back at home. Nerd girls always put out, always eager when a guy like him shows some interest. It's a formula, make her feel bad about everything that society deems unattractive, and then she'll fall all over herself when he finally admits she isn't all bad.

You would loudly correct him in classes, demonstrate your superiority or ability to follow rules better than him. Hell, you were basically a TA, it was fucking annoying. Acting like being a little teacher's pet was better than sex. It's no big deal, he'll teach you later.

"Four-eyes." he addresses you on the courtyard, and you know who's talking to you. You turn, clutching your books to your chest and adjusting your glasses further up your nose by pinching the corner of them.

"Barringer." you reply curtly. "Are you going to ask me for the notes again? 'Cause you should've been there taking them yourself."

"Ooh," He sucks breath through his teeth with a brief frown. "That stings."

"Sarcasm. How refined." you note as he approaches you, lumbering over to you in all his layers that make his wide shoulders look broader.

"You don't look bad today." he muses, rounding you slowly as he scans your figure. "Almost distracts from that thing on your face." Lazily, he gestures to the glasses.

"Can you be any less original? It helps me see." You try to ignore the burning in your cheeks at being so scrutinized. Sure, you've had conversations with Scott, but he's never paid you even a backhanded compliment before. You don't like how it makes you feel.

"Yeah, well. I'm gonna swing by the janitor's shed later. Maybe you'll surprise me you're not such a prude and be there."

"Oh— oh, fuck—" Broken noises of pleasure utter from his lips in between chewing them with his rows of perfect teeth. You could hate how pretty he is, brows twisted in near anguish over sensitive tissue stimulated by a wet tongue and warm throat. The glasses you wear have slid down to the tip of your nose from the effort of bobbing your head. Frustratingly, Scott Barringer is hung, and your neck cramps from sucking it off. "You really are a freak, Four-eyes." He enunciates the word, and a wicked smile creeps onto his handsome features, watching you take every inch.

You glare up at him, and you retract intent to tell him off for calling you that right now, but his big hands at the back of your neck keep you from escaping, shoving you back down with a wet sputter. "The guys were right." he exhales. "Dorky girls like you are so easy." You brace on his thighs, and you're mad at yourself for being as slick as you are. An ache between your legs you wish the star football player would handle for you. As if you want to please him, make sure he can't forget you, you try harder, swirling your tongue around him. A low groan vibrates from his throat as he tips his head back, lazily bucking his hips into your face. "You want a mouth-full of cum or something?"

You make a noise, and he snickers. He rolls his neck so he can see you again, and a hand cups the underside of your chin, curling his body around you.

"Nah, I know what you want. Fuck, I'm gonna cum." With that, he pulls out, yanking you off so he can grab his base, giving himself a few furious pumps as his dick twitches in his hand. Thick spurts of finish spout from his tip, landing on your unsuspecting face. The panes of your glasses are coated in cum, unable to be seen through, and drops slide down your forehead from his clumsy aim.

You shove at him, which only exacerbates his cruel laughter. "You're such a jerk, Scott!" Your fingers pinch carefully at your glasses to extract them from your face without touching your hair. To inspect them, you turn them towards you, squinting at them as you assess what could safely remove cum from their delicate nooks and screws.

All the comfort you receive in return is, "Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad. Quit bitching." Which earns him a sharp hit on his chest.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#anon #ch: scott #indy: drabbles #scott barringer smut #scott barringer drabble #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer x fem reader #scott barringer x you #scott barringer x y/n #scott barringer imagine #scott barringer fic #scott barringer fanfic #scott barringer fanfiction #reader insert

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dreamofbecoming · 10 months

Text

part two, this one is still mostly stobin and pre-steddie. the first part does provide some context, although i imagine you could figure most of it out yourself, but i'd recommend reading it first anyway!

ao3

part 1

platonic stobin, mentions of steddie

rating: t

wc: 3k

---

The conversation dies down and Steve goes back to filling bottles to hand off to Robin, eyes on Dustin where he's still goofing off with Munson. Good, he should get to have as much fun as he can. This is what he should be doing. What they should all be doing. Steve hates that these kids have to be fucking…soldiers so much of the time. He hates that he can't do anything to shield them from it. Not that they'd let him if he could.

Maybe Robbie has a point, about regular teenage life stuff being pointless right now, but god, what the fuck? Why should it have to be? He's 19! He can't even buy a drink yet! Robin is still in high school!

Fuck it. They should get to be kids and think about stupid pointless stuff, too.

"So I know you said you didn't want to talk about your love life, which is fair, but if I keep thinking about dying I'm gonna lose my shit, so you wanna talk about mine?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Oh, are we talking about how fucking weird shit has been between you and Nancy?"

Ah, fuck, that backfired almost immediately.

"What? No. Definitely not. Ok, it's been weird, but it's not a thing, ok?" She looks even more skeptical than before. "It's not! I mean, ok, maybe it is," she snorts at him, which. Rude. "But it's just like. Regular weirdness, ok?"

"What the fuck is regular weirdness?"

"You know, like, exes who haven't talked in a while in a high-pressure situation weirdness. The kind of weirdness anyone would be having in our shoes. Normal weirdness!" He throws his hands in the air, agitated.

Munson looks over at the sound of his raised voice, lifting an eyebrow and smirking. What is it with everyone raising their eyebrows at him today? He's being normal! Normal and regular! It's not his fault everything around them is weird and that makes his normal look weird by comparison. He's not doing anything wrong, so get off his nuts already! Geez!

Steve isn't sure how much of that very normal and regular monologue shows on his face, but it must be some because he can see Munson laughing at him as he goes back to playing keepaway with Dustin's hat. Bastard.

"Ugh! No, I don't want to talk about Nance. Like I really super don't. There's nothing there, it's done, it's over, there's nothing to say."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to talk about that debacle in the bus either. Six kids, Steve? Really?" Oh Jesus. He was really hoping no one had heard that.

"Bobbie, please, why are you torturing me?" He rarely deploys the Sad Eyes on Robin, mostly because they don't work especially well on her, which is insane, because they work like an atom bomb on literally everyone else. He may have left King Steve behind him, but he has plenty of skills left over from those days, not to mention he looks as good as he always has. He knows what he's working with, ok?

Anyways, this is a moment to pull out the big guns, which means Sad Eyes are a go.

As usual, they aren't as effective on Robbie as they are on other people, but she does know him well enough to realize that if he's pulling them out, it's out of desperation, so she takes pity on him anyway. Whatever. He'll take the win.

She sighs, and rolls her eyes indulgently, but she's smiling just a little. He can tell. God, he loves her. He'd burn the world down for her, is maybe going to have to. He doesn't know what he'd do without her.

"Alright, bubba, I'll bite. You want to talk about your love life, but you don't want to talk about Nancy. Whatcha got for me?"

And, oh. Shit. This is the part where he's going to have to say it out loud. He hadn't planned this far, mostly was just anxious to get the swirling feeling in his chest out into Robbie's hands because he knows she can keep it safe, mostly just trying to wipe that awful, scared, defeated look off her face, but now he has to actually do the thing. He has to say it out loud, on purpose, the way he hasn't since that day in her bedroom when his whole world shifted a little to the left, and she was the only thing holding him steady.

Fuck. Ok. He can do this. It's just Rob. No one else is close enough to hear them, and Robin will always keep him safe. She'll never let him be alone.

"So, uh. You know the, uh, the thing? That we talked about that one time?"

"Yeah, we talk every day, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, bubs."

"The, uh. The thing we decided we didn't have to talk about right away? Because it wasn't important? Or, no, it was important, but it wasn't, um. What did you say? Relevant. It wasn't relevant to my everyday life?"

"Relevant to your…oh! Oh shit! The thing! The thing we talked about! That thing!" Her eyes are wide and so so blue and her hands are flailing a little, like she wants to pat him down for injury even though that's not remotely helpful. He carefully takes the bottle out of her hand and stuffs the rag into it himself, setting it on the ground where she can't dump gasoline on herself. She smiles a little sheepishly.

"So what about the, uh, the thing?" She lowers her voice like she's in a goddamn spy movie, leaning close and waggling her eyebrows. She's so ridiculous. He loves her so much.

He gives her a pointed look. She shakes her head in response, looking confused. Jesus fuck, she's gonna make him say it.

He tries one more time, bobbing his head at her to try and make his facial expression more forceful. He doesn't miss his old crowd, really, he doesn't. He does, however, occasionally miss being around people who were constantly alert for even the smallest social shifts, who he could have a whole conversation with using nothing but subtle changes to the shape of his mouth or the width of his eyes. He loves Robin and Dustin more than life, would kill or die for them, has proven it several times over, but Christ on a cracker they wouldn't know a social cue if it whacked them in the head with a hammer.

She's still furrowing her brow at him, so he sighs, and gives in. "I think it's maybe become…relevant. I promised to tell you right away, remember?"

Her eyes go even wider than before, and she thwaps him in the chest with the back of her hand. Hard. Ow.

"Dingus!" She's whisper-shouting, but he still doesn't think anyone is close enough to hear. "What the hell!"

"Ow, Robbie, Jesus, watch the open wounds!"

She flutters her hands around his middle, like she can fix his bandages through his jacket. She does look apologetic, so that's something.

"Sorry, sorry, fuck, sorry! Are you ok? Sorry. Just, what the hell! What? Who? When?!"

He smirks at her. "What, no why or how?"

"I'm going to set you on fire with one of these cocktails if you don't start talking, Dingus, I swear to god!"

He's laughing, she's so much fun to rile up. God, he hopes he doesn't have to miss this. He hopes he gets to keep this much, at least, when they're done. He'll probably go crazy otherwise.

"Ok, ok, I won't tease, I'm sorry. So I guess, to answer your questions, uh…I found a boy to crush on, who the hell do you think, and I promised to tell you right away, didn't I?" He counts them down on his fingers while he answers them, because if he can't act like a little shit to her then honestly, what is even the point?

"Right away…holy shit. Holy shit! Steve!" She looks frantically out at the field, where Munson has now knocked Henderson over and is sitting on him, wearing his hat and crowing victory, while Dustin flails wildly on the ground. Thank fuck neither of them are looking this way, because holy hell she isn't subtle.

"Robbie, don't look, what the hell! Do you want him to know we're talking about him?"

"Oh, so we are talking about him? Eddie "The Freak" Munson?"

He cringes a little at the reminder of his earlier dismissal. "Alright, ok, so I maybe didn't give him much of a chance at first, but the Upside Down changes things, you know that! It did for us, right?"

She looks thoughtful. "I guess, yeah. So go on, loverboy, what do you like about him?" She's grinning and waggling her eyebrows again. Ugh, this may have been a mistake. She does owe him for the Tammy Thompson thing. Still, there's no one alive he'd rather talk about this with, and he has to talk to someone, or he's going to explode, and they have a…wizard…demon…thing…guy to kill. Whatever. They have killing to do, so he needs to get this off his chest so it's not clogging up his brain.

"He has…really nice eyes. And really nice hands." Robin lets out a soft "Oh, ew," before he glares at her and she motions for him to go on. "He's funny, and weird but in like, a charming way? Kind of like you, but different. The way Dustin is weird and charming like you, but different, you know?"

"You have a thing for nerds, Dingus."

"Ugh, maybe, yeah." His mind drifts back to Eddi- Munson. Gotta keep calling him Munson, at least until they get out of this. Can't afford to be distracted. "He's scared out of his mind, but he's coming along anyway, which is the kind of brave and stupid this whole group kind of runs on. He thinks he's a coward but he's not. Going back to school instead of dropping out is brave. Trusting us is brave. Acting like he does even when everyone hates him for it is brave. I wish I had been brave enough to do that, you know? Maybe I would have dropped the King shit earlier. And he's good with the kids, which you know I'm weak for. I don't know, Robs, I just…I want him to like me, you know? I want him to be impressed by me. Is that stupid?"

When he looks up, Robin's eyes are wide and shiny. She looks surprised, and a little scared. That's not good, probably, but he can't take back anything he said. He meant all of it.

"It's not stupid, bubba, it's not stupid at all. I guess I was thinking…I don't know. That it was like an adrenaline thing? Like a 'you're hot, we're in danger, I'd rather think about making out with you than dying' kind of thing? Like what Nancy was clearly doing with you earlier, you know?"

"Ugh, Robbie, I so don't want to talk about Nancy right now, please," he groans.

"Yeah yeah, I know, whatever. I just mean, it doesn't really sound like that's what's going on with you, for Eddie, right now. It kinda sounds like you, you know, like like him."

"Like like him? What are we, 12?"

"You know what I mean, Dingus, it just sounds like there are actual feelings here, not just sexy thoughts."

He shifts a little on his stool, feeling kind of exposed, but it's ok. It's just Robin. "I mean, yeah, I guess I kinda do? Have feelings. Or maybe I will? I'm kind of trying to hold them off, I guess, until we get out of here, you know? I barely know the guy, honestly, but also every time this happens I end up bonded for life to someone new, so why not him this time? I mean, the first time with the demogorgon even got me and Nancy back together, and we were like, donezo, for real, after that thing Tommy did to The Hawk. This shit is better than superglue, you know?"

Robin barks out a laugh. She squares her shoulders and puts on her best announcer voice. "Do you have trouble making friends? Looking to join a new crowd, but can't find a way in? Try Hell Beasts! Our near-death experience package will create lasting trauma that will bind you together forever! There's no escape now!"

The two of them collapse into giggles, drawing the eyes of several their friends scattered around the field.

When she composes herself, Robin gives him a soft smile. It's one of his favorites. Almost no one ever sees it but him, and not very often. "Well, I guess we had better all make it out of this in one piece, then, huh? So we can do all our sad gay pining together."

"I dunno, I think maybe I have a shot," he says thoughtfully, eyeing Edd- no, stop it, Munson, where he's flopped on the grass next to Dustin, chatting happily.

Robin boggles at him. "What the fuck do you mean, a shot? Are you- oh god, are you just gonna tell him? Steve!"

"Wh- Not right away or anything! And not for sure! I have to figure out if he's flagging on purpose first!"

"If he's whatting on what?"

"Oh come on, you remember that one zine that talked about the, uh. The whats it. The code! The hanky code, that was it!" He snaps his fingers in victory, triumphant.

She's still looking at him like he's grown a second head though, so maybe not.

"I don't know, maybe you skipped that one? From what I could tell it was more about men anyway. I think they mentioned that ladies use, uh, caribou. The clip things, you know?"

"Caribeeners? Dingus what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's this thing, right? That like, gay people, gay men, I guess, use to like, signal each other, kind of. It's basically like, you wear a hanky in your pocket, and what color it is and what pattern is printed on it and which pocket you wear it in tells people what kind of sex you like."

Robin looks even more shocked, if that's possible. "What does that even mean, what kind of sex you like?"

Oh, right. Lesbian virgin. Fair enough. "Like, do you like to uh. Give, if you know what I mean. Or receive. Do you like blowjobs, or handjobs, or like. I dunno, weird stuff. Like spit or whatever."

She's waving her hands frantically, her face screwed up. "Ahhhh lalalala that's enough! That's plenty of information, thank you!" He holds up his hands in surrender. She asked.

"Anyway, what does all of...that...have to do with you having a shot with," she switches back to her not-at-all-subtle stage whisper, "Eddie?"

"Haven't you noticed he's had that bandana in his pocket the whole time?" She whips her head around so fast he's surprised he doesn't hear her neck crack. Jesus, Robin.

"Would you chill out? You're going to make him look over here and then I'll have to let Vecna eat me because there's no way I'll survive the humiliation if he hears us, Robin!"

She glares at him. "Don't even joke about that, Dingus. You're making it out alive or I'll kill you myself."

He knows he's smiling adoringly at her, and if Henderson is looking he's never, ever beating those "in love with Robin" allegations, but whatever. "Noted, Buckley."

"So, what, you think he might be...like us? 'Cause of the bandana?"

"I mean, maybe, yeah? I might be crazy, but I also feel like he was definitely flirting with me earlier. Like in the Upside Down, and also at the trailer, you know?"

"Now that I think about it, that "Big Boy" thing was super weird. I figured it was just Eddie being Eddie, they call him The Freak for a reason, right? But I guess that could have been called flirting."

"Right? That's what I thought! And when we were down there, he was like, all up in my space, and he gave me his vest, and he seemed annoyed when I talked to Nance, even though he was trying to push me back to her. Which was insane, I didn't tell you this part Robs, oh my god. I was fully staring at his lips, just laser focused, like I would be on a girl I want to kiss, right? And he won't stop telling me how Nancy is definitely still in love with me and I should get her back! What the hell! Who does that? So I don't know," he sighs, feeling a little lost. "Maybe he isn't into me after all. But I have to at least check, right?"

"I mean, I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that, bubba, but if it goes sideways, I'll burn his house down if you want." She wiggles a molotov cocktail at him, grinning.

"Jesus, Bobbin, alright. Let's, uh. Let's call that Plan B, yeah?"

"Roger that, captain!" She gives him a stupid little salute, and for a moment he's back at Scoops, before everything went shit-shaped, but she's still his Robin, and they're safe and alive and nothing hurts.

And then he blinks again and he's sitting on an overturned bucket in front of a stolen RV, making molotov cocktails with his soulmate, watching his baby brother and the guy he might maybe sort of have a crush on tussle in the grass, hoping against hope they all live to see morning.

He picks up another bottle.

part 3

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie #pre-steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve harrington & robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #robin calls steve bubba and steve calls her bobbie and i will die on both those hills #eddie munson #dustin henderson #(mentioned)#part 3 coming soon i hope lmao #missing scene #my writing

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