#shut your brain the entire fuck up when it wants to judge someone for something that they cant control or is morally neutral
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i really try to understand why my fellow progressives are so avoidant of actually introspecting on why they think its still cool to bully. im sorry but thats just an inherently conservative thing to want to do.
#ive had to actually introspect about it. i was never really a bully fr but i did. like everyone else. have judgemental thoughts about ppl#still. and i really had to ask myself. why does it matter that EYE judge this person? 1. im holding my own opinion of this other random#person i probably dont know as being the most important opinion when its like. who tf am i. 2. wtf did this person MORALLY do wrong#to deserve me internally insulting them for how they look or dress or whatever. and even if its someone whos a conservative.#how does me judging that person make the entire situation better at all? it really only just. makes me feel better about the lack of#power i have over that person to not be a dipshit. thats really it#insulting them isnt going to change their mind and LIKE IVE SAID A MILLION TIMES will ONLY make them dig their heels in more#im not saying go up to your local rwinger and give them a hug and validate them or whatever tf. thats not your job. all im asking is simply#shut your brain the entire fuck up when it wants to judge someone for something that they cant control or is morally neutral#charlie kirk having a small face is morally neutral. his politics? not so much! attack that. at least.#(not that the memes aren't funny- but we cant fool ourselves into thinking bullying him is gonna change him or his fans)#i just wanna know why you think your opinion on how someone looks or dresses or whatever is that important is all#the best motto anyone can adopt really is 'MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS' ffs#your opinion on their appearance really doesnt matter like at all! instead of feeling the urge to have an opinion on the way they look#simply let some things ~be~. have 0 opinion about how they look or if theyre weird and awkward. focus on the shit that ACTUALLY matters#you dont always have to sort things in boxes of 'good' and 'bad'. some things can just exist without you labeling them.#and also why do you NEED to label everything and who are you and why do you think your label is important enough to vocalize?#anyways.#and im not gonna act like ive been perfect about this but this is work that we're always gonna hafta do so long as we live in a#susciety that places value on other people and labels them on whether or not theyre good enough for whatever thing#competition outside of friendly sportsball will always be bad change my mind#if the sportsball gets to be unfriendly and too intense to the point that you hate someone you need to fuckin chill and leave the event#lmao. like you've gotta go and take a shower and think for a bit instead of continuing to funnel your rage into ppl who dont deserve it :|#i wanna be clear tho i dont think theres anything morally wrong w making fun of charlie kirk for how he looks. just recognize the reason ur#doing it. bc ur not doing it bc ur someone crusading against misinfo or whatever ur doing it bc u dont know how to convince#him to stop and are throwing spaghetti at the wall
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Hot Plumber Eddie
Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 23: Plumber
Buddie, 941 words
Read on AO3
Buck insists it's not his fault.
He looks after himself, and he looks after his apartment, and he goddamn knows what should and should not be flushed down a toilet.
Unfortunately, apparently, the same cannot be said for everyone he's hooked up with.
He stands there in the doorway while Hot Plumber Eddie — as Buck's chosen to save his name in his phone — is on all fours on the floor of his bathroom. Buck's busy alternating between ogling the guy's excellent ass and feeling profoundly awkward, not knowing whether to stay here or leave him alone to work, offer him something to drink or offer him something to— well.
So here's the thing: Buck's been starting to question lately, whether the whole casual sex thing is healthy for him. Ever since last week when a two-day marathon sex streak got him on a high of bliss, but left him feeling empty and gross about himself.
It's early days, but he has decided on a three date minimum before sleeping with someone going forward. It's a good idea really, except now it's literally day five of that resolution, and Hot Plumber Eddie is seriously testing him.
"Aha! Got the sucker!"
Buck startles at the exclamation.
"You found the block?"
"Yeah," Eddie looks at Buck over his shoulder with a grin, and Buck has a moment of imagining him like that in another situation, before Eddie turns back to the toilet and says: "I can see it, looks like — oh. Huh."
Buck scrambles forward, morbid curiosity leading him to want to know the cause of his backed up toilet. He sees what Hot Plumber Eddie is seeing, and promptly stumbles back, mortified.
"You, uh… probably shouldn't be flushing those," Hot Plumber Eddie tells him.
Because there, filling up almost his entire u-bend, are at least half a dozen condoms.
That fucking weekend. He’d never questioned it when she said she'd take care of the condoms, when she brought them with her into the bathroom, when he heard the toilet flush each time. He assumed she was putting them in the trash and then peeing, like a normal fucking person.
Apparently, he'd been mistaken.
"That's not—I didn't—She—" Buck stammers, wanting to save face, to explain, but everything he thinks to say sounds like a feeble excuse.
"I've seen weirder shit, don't worry,” Hot Plumber Eddie assures him. “And, actually, that's not even a pun, I've seen… well. Don't worry about it. Point is, I don't judge."
Buck sighs, but he can see in the bathroom mirror that he's still so red his birthmark blends in with the rest of his face.
Hot Plumber Eddie turns back to the toilet, removing the… blockage… and reattaching the pipes.
Buck flees to the kitchen and chugs a large glass of water.
When Hot Plumber Eddie returns, he's smiling that easy smile that prompted Buck to initiate the nickname, and it's extremely unfair.
"All done!" He declares. "Just make sure you tell your girlfriend to use the trash can in future, yeah?"
Buck shakes his head. His brain must not be functioning properly, because he says "I don't have a girlfriend."
And then Hot Plumber Eddie opens his mouth, but Buck keeps talking. "Or a boyfriend. Or, well—I used to hook up with people a lot, but I'm sort of starting to think I'm done with that, that I'm at a stage in my life where I want… I dunno, a relationship, I guess. Something real, like—"
Why is he still talking? Why has his mouth not stopped moving yet? Hot Plumber Eddie just stares at him while he gabs away about his personal life, and he doesn't shut up until Hot Plumber Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eye and says his name.
Just his name. "Buck." All soft and amused and familiar in a way that makes something in Buck's chest flutter the way he's used to feeling something in his pants flutter.
He stops talking, mouth snapping shut.
"You good?" Hot Plumber Eddie asks, and Buck nods, silent, not trusting his vocal cords.
"Alright, well," Hot Plumber Eddie steps back, out of Buck's space, and Buck fights a losing battle against the pathetic fucking whimper that forces it's way out of his chest at the loss of contact. "I'd better head out. You'll get the invoice by email later today."
Hot Plumber Eddie clears his throat, and heads for the door. Buck just nods.
When Hot Plumber Eddie gets to the door, he turns back to Buck. "For what it's worth," he says, "You do deserve something real. Someone who'll respect you enough not to flush a dozen condoms down your toilet."
And that's what does it —the kindness is the last fucking straw for Buck's traitor of a mouth, because a second before the door closes on Hot Plumber Eddie, he blurts out, "Would you like to go on a date?"
Hot Plumber Eddie freezes, and Bick wants to maybe die a little, or flush himself down the toilet, or just slam the door and hope this was all a horrible dream.
Except Hot Plumber Eddie blushes. And he coughs in a self-conscious sort of way, and then he says yes.
And two years later, when Buck's at home, helping Christopher make cookies for a school bake sale, Buck grabs his phone from his pocket, wedding ring glinting on his finger, and sends a text to Hot Plumber Eddie:
Used last of the eggs baking, can u pick some up on ur way home? 💙
And Hot Plumber Eddie, Buck’s Hot Plumber husband, says yes again.
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(serious post) talking bout things i need to.
alright, this isnt going to be some "oh haha funni" post like i always do. i need to speak out or it feels like no one else will. you can not read this if you want, i just want to talk about them. (organized into paragraphs) there will be triggering topics i'll speak about and ill try to trigger them appropriately.
theres a surplus of youtubers who react to "fat tiktok" and its never any positivity. these videos get hundreds of thousands of views, and im pretty sure no one sees whats wrong with it. i am considered to be in a "plus size" range, and the videos fucking hurt. its stupid because the whole idea of that side of tiktok is to show that being okay with not being barbie is okay, and its always judged negatively. no, im not fucking over reacting when theres videos talking about how that entire side of tiktok should be gone. yes, there are toxic parts on that side, but i dont tell you to get off youtube or whatever your on because something you like has a toxic part of it. its fucking stupid that these guys (its like all guys) think they have the right to look at these videos and call them cringe over and over and over and then think theyve made a good video or done a good job. i agree, promoting obesity isnt that good a thing, but dont shame the entirety of a community because one person did it. no one who has done these videos has tried to apologize if theyre being offensive, theyre just like "dont hate us if these guys are cringe lol". its not hard, this is just restating the idea of barbie bodies being better. its not hard to let people be happy with how they look. like i said, "fat tok" is not an angel and has problems which can be addressed but judging the full part and saying it should be gone as a whole is just fucking fat phobic.
can we stop mixing bisexual and pansexual? they have different names for a reason. bisexual and pansexual arent the same and yet theyre still mixed FOR NO REASON. bisexual is where you feel attraction for 2 genders (thus the prefix bi which means 2) and pansexual is attraction is regardless of gender. my sibling is the main reason i want to talk about this, being bisexual and being pansexual arent the same. if your bi, that doesnt mean your pan and vise versa. i struggled with labels for a shit ton of 2020-2021 and even this year, and hearing labels made so people can actually make sense of how they feel and know theyre not alone (i feel like it for me) getting mixed around with each other hurts. to me, its erasing identities by just saying theyre one. idgaf if you or someone identifies as both, thats fine. saying theyre one in the same is not.
i hate those memes of "girls vs boys". they arent even fucking funny, theyre just cringe sexist stereotyping "jokes" put out to be consumed and for those who watch or see them to believe that theyre good and funny and okay. they arent. stereotypes arent cool, going "haha woman stupid" isnt funny, shut up. the boys vs girls memes always make the girls do something "stupid" first, then shows the boys being chads or some shit. for example, that boys vs girls time machine meme. the girls always go to see an ancestor of theirs, while the boys go do some crazy shit in the past. you may think theres nothing wrong, but there is. the way its shown and made is to show that girls are weird but boys are cool. the entire idea of the joke is that girls are stupid. its with every topic these memes have that the girls are in the wrong because theyre dumb for doing this or that. i know what some people think: "oh, your biologically a woman, so of COURSE this isnt funny to you and your just taking offense cause your a drama queen" or whatever shit. the reasoning there is fucking stupid, me being a woman that takes offense shows the joke is offensive and shouldnt be made. also, i bet some guys with brains would find the jokes uncomfortable. sexism isnt funny to anyone but 60 year old boomers that make "i hate my wife" jokes.
if your wondering why its not that many, im shortening it so it can actually post. the other triggers will be added in the reply to this, dw.
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Notebook 4
Confinement was always something that scared me. Don't get me wrong, i loved being alone when my mood would allow it. But being forced to stay in a room for too long was proving detestable at most. How could ever one being such as myself be kept under lock and key while the world continued moving about around us. People were exhausting indeed and I won't be a hellish judge to anyone that respects boundaries and wants to be left alone for a period of time. They would always come back for search of company anyway.
Tell me something i don't know. Or ask about something i know. Theses are the rules that make a conversation. I always say communication is key, but is it really when you're forced to choose who to communicate with. Can't i be left alone to dwell on my own thoughts that always require a strong will that i do not posses in myself? One may understand this as stupid and maybe the time I've been spending alone is far too great and it's turned me mad. But be may who you would be and tarnish me with your words. Hurt me and tear me, leave me breathless and shameful and i might even grant you the truth about my being.
Prideful yet emphatic, people are too keen on keeping promises and making hard decisions, jumping into adulthood like its some type of game and they already have all the stas required for completing the quest. It's not fun at all to watch how young people wither while you're standing from the side, watching this dreadful view. Now here's what i think on the matter. Don't interfere, that's only going to ruin you more from the inside and will leave you wanting to return to something you once may have possessed. We don't need that and we certainly don't want that. Pain is not an option because pain is something deserved. I don't believe everyone should be in pain. Spare people who've actually haven't done anything bad in their entire life.
Punish me, for instance. For i have sinned a number of times myself. I am no saint, i do not speak of God as someone higher. In this text God is nothing but a tool for me to use to manipulate people who believe in him. Just like it has always been in history. Why not keep the tradition?
People are hateful beings. They speak of love yet they never once experienced it, they move around and are always in some kind of movement, they think because they simply can't shut their brains down. It must be exhausting to be a human. Humans set up expectations without being able to reach then themselves and then blame a whole generation for their own failures. There's nothing heroic about acting all high and mighty. Just like God does. And God is a fucking coward.
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warm.
it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.
speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.
belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.
ugh, gross.
you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.
as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.
a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.
even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.
“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.
a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.
“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”
“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.
in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.
you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.
a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.
“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.
meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”
the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.
“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.
“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”
it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.
“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”
wrong answer.
“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.
what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?
before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”
despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.
“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”
by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.
yeah bitches. take it all in.
unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,
rage.
you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.
you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...
well, for what exactly?
almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.
luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.
the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.
very disney villain-esque.
a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—
“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.
you were just attacked. again.
you and your friends were threatened.
meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.
“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.
the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.
“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.
you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.
still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.
it’s over. it’s all finally over.
you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.
℗ poker face
it’s over
series masterlist
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an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smau#haikyuu x reader smau#haikyuu smau#haikyuu#hq x reader smau#haikyuu angst#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kenma x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#daichi x reader#sugawara x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa x reader#tw toxicity#tw toxic behavior#tw toxic people#tw toxic relationship#haikyuu social media au#hq social media au#℗ poker face
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So I read desert rose and loved it. It gave me an idea for an imagine where Sukuna and the reader kinda have a relationship like Hades and Persephone. They meet at first, not fond of each other, but they start to understand each other and slowly they fall in love. Not just any love but one that's so deep that it envelops them, a love so deep its embedded into their soul. You can add smut if you want, I don't mind. I just thought that this would be amazing!
thank you for the first request i’ve received here on tumblr!!
this shit actually turned out longer than i thought it would. i got a little carried away. ahuhuhu~~ hope you enjoy this anon bby!!
WARNINGS: mentions of rape, sukuna calls you a whore and a slut AWOOGA, explicit smut
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“No man has ever survived that curse.”
Her laugh cuts the air. It is dangerous. Snorting and derisive. The absolute opposite of the slack-jawed shock on his tattooed countenance.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not a man.”
Her hands spin in a small, tight circle, focusing the cursed energy in the tiny space of power she traces with her hands. She stares at the man with unblinking eyes. Bears insults down on him with the laughter in her eyes.
“You fucking bitch,” he seethes, hissing at the scorn curling her mouth. He does not need his hands to form his own curse. It only takes another vilifying look at her for one more curse to fly in her direction. He breathes an aggravated breath through his nose as one of her servants takes the shot instead, performing the same technique with their own hands.
“Ooh, that one was a little weaker, don’t you think?” she mocks, then turns to her servant with a pleased smile on her lips. “Good boy.”
The boy simpers at the praise, leaning into the touch the woman pets onto his head. Sukuna loses control at the casualness, the apathy. To have such inferior, lowly beings smile in his presence… for them to have the fucking nerve to even meet his eyes…
He is the King of Curses. Whoever the fuck it is this woman may be, he knows he has to put her and her proletarian flunkeys in their damn places.
His four hands tremble as a wild rush of cursed energy pulses through his veins. A manic grin cuts his frown into a smile.
I’m going to fucking kill you.
But in the next moment, his hands begin to tremble for a wholly different reason. His blood goes cold.
“You know, you aren’t that bad-looking for someone with two faces and a mouth on their stomach.” The woman traces the frowning tincture of a smile on his stomach, arm raised into the air in order to reach it. She almost stands on her tip-toes. Even with her diminutive stature she seems to be the most powerful in the obliterated room.
When did she—?
“If you accept defeat, your highness…” A sharp, sardonic quip comes to make him fraught with wrath, “Then I might just let you live and have you become one of my menials instead. You could do plenty with those four arms of yours.”
Her fingers have opened the mouth on his stomach. Now she only tries to prick the pads of her strong fingers on the razor-edged ridges of teeth there, awaiting his answer with easy patience. Her hand grows sticky with his slobber.
“She could kill you in seconds, King,” the boy from earlier speaks up. “Could just grab that tongue in your stomach and wrench it upward ‘till the tip of it comes out one o’ your eye sockets.”
“Oh, don’t spoil my fun Jackie,” she says, still playing with the mouth on his abdomen. “I was planning to keep it a surprise for our man here.”
“I’ll be part of your fucking band of delinquents,” he interrupts, locking eyes with the woman, head lowered. “But you will make me the superior of the rest of your blue-collared pack of idiots.”
“You’re going to have to work for that, Ryomen-chan.” She flashes a smile at him. Her hand slips further into the mouth on his abdomen. He knows what she’s doing. Tempting him into trying to bite her hand off, if only so she could acquire an excuse to kill him.
And no one. No one fucking gave her the authority to call him Ryomen-chan.
“I don’t fucking care,” he snaps back at her, grabbing her hand before quickly relaxing his grip. He falters ever so slightly as something in her eyes goes dark, then with a begrudging gentleness slips her hand out of the mouth. “I’m already part of your ragged band of lackeys, bitch. So fucking tell me what it is you me to do.”
---
He hates her with his entire being. With each day that passes he thinks of slitting her throat open and raping her as she dies. It is a train of thought that has been of much prominence since he was forced to join her group of brainless monkeys.
And he hates this, too, but he can’t say it’s all that bad. It’s much better than letting the bitch climb onto his shoulders and stand on his head to gain the elevated vantage she constantly insists is necessary to scout the area. When she has the ability to fucking fly. Fucking dumbass.
So, yes. This isn’t… as demeaning as the rest of the orders she gives him.
“No, Ryomen-chan, you’re supposed to twist that strand over the middle one—oh, you’re hopeless.”
Scratch that.
“That is the middle strand, bi—Ms. (Y/N),” he disguises the anger shaking in his voice with a call of her title, then shoves the strands of hair between his fingers to the front of her face. “Are you fucking blind?”
“As opposed to your deluded delusion, Ryomen-chan, this is the middle strand.” She holds a lock of her hair, plucking it from between his fingers. Something thumps in his chest as her fingers brush his palm. “Are you blind? Now that would be a horrible addition to your already damaged brain.”
“Let me fucking try again then. Give it here.”
Jeez. No one said styling a woman’s hair would be this… toilsome.
“No, let me show you how to do it, Ryomen-chan. Sit down.”
His knees bend as she shoves him down onto the plush pillow she uses when presenting herself as the Queen of Curses (a title he finds himself unable to contradict, fuck). His brows furrow and he turns back to protest but she only grips his chin in her fingers, her eyes meeting his, and snaps his head forward.
“I said let me show you.”
Something thuds in his chest again. He wills for it to shut the fuck up.
Her hand falls from his face, though her fingers stroke the bottom of his chin with the fleeting touch of danger before her hand moves to twine into his hair. He sits still, the breathless tightness in his chest soon giving way to ennui as he watches her braid his hair from the mirror. He finds himself observing the way her eyes glaze over with focus as she styles his hair. For the quickest second he wonders how hazy her eyes would go with him inside her.
“Alright, done. Did you take notes, Ryomen-chan? That was an important… lesson…”
Her voice falters. He looks back at her and finds her eyes on his legs. Particularly on something protruding from between his thighs.
“Sukuna... I just braided your hair—”
“Not. Another. Word.”
---
The first time he slides inside her, it’s like fucking himself into heaven.
He makes no sound as he fucks her, as she lets him fuck her, but everything in his head has blurred together to narrow his vision to only the sight of her beneath him.
He’s missed fucking women. Missed being inside them. He hates the fact that she is better than any bitch he has ever shoved his cock into.
He tries to keep his head in the crook of her neck. But then her legs hook together from around his waist, fingers curling into the hands he’s pinned to her wrists, and she’s moaning like the bitch in heat she really is. The curiosity to watch her face as he fucks her overwhelms him completely.
The touch she shares with his hands is more intimate than it should be. It’s as if his hands keep her grounded, keep her here with him as he makes her cum.
Her back arches, and a third hand of his grips the small of her back to keep it arched, so that her stomach touches the mouth on his own abdomen.
For some fucking reason he wants to give her all the pleasure he can. Make her go cross-eyed. Fuck her 'till she goes stupid with sex.
He lets the mouth on his stomach fall open. The tongue there is long enough to slide between their bodies, wet enough to slither between them with ease. He smirks with the smile of a devil as the Queen of Curses, his only superior, cries out in pleasure as the tip of his tongue curls around the free space between their joined bodies. His tongue flicks her clit. Dips inside her to join the fullness of his cock. His eyes shut in lazy pleasure as she squeezes him tighter.
She has the body of a virgin. He can tell she’s only been touched once or twice in the past, judging from the way her dominance had fluctuated the moment she finished undressing him. Her touches were hesitant. Apprehensive. But for some reason she had also sought his pleasure, had taken his cock in her mouth and sucked not like an inexperienced little village girl but a masterful whore.
He says it now, “The Queen of Curses, Ms. (Y/N), now the desperate bitch of her King.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest as she trembles in the wash of her fourth orgasm. He knows how many she’s had. He’s been counting; plans to give her ten. “A slut in the sheets, a queen in the streets. How delightful.”
And this, this makes the slut cum.
And when she does, her authority returns. With a look of glaze-eyed intoxication in her eyes, she pushes his behemothic body off her, and rides him until he finally says her name.
And at that point, he knows not whether he is her whore, or she is his. All he knows is that it’s fucking good to be inside her, and that she sounds and feels better than any other hole he's fucked.
The next time he fucks her, there are braids in her hair.
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#anon bby#anon#request#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna x reader smut#ryomen sukuna x reader smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#nanami kento#simp
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sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons
trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.
this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents
wc: 2,319
okay the sleepy boys
chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it
so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?
unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention
techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can
and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole
so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies
“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”
wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.
because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible
too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend
after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.
can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.
tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”
like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.
tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.
the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.
“what are your intentions with tommy?”
the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”
this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????
techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???
“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”
techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”
“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...
“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”
oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.
he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.
phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating
wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.
tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.
yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.
and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to
to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn
he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.
his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.
“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”
phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.
of all questions, that was the one that came out.
but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.
he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world
when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.
“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”
phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.
but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system
so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”
seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.
phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”
oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.
that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.
speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.
when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.
“did someone say guitar”
yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.
they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.
wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.
it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,
“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”
wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.
needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.
techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--
“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”
or just brushed him off. without a second thought.
“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”
to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.
but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.
techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.
techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.
despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.
so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.
without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.
the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.
phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”
now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.
his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.
all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.
“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”
tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.
and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.
tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.
tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.
“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”
tommy was GONE
he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.
all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.
#sleepy boys x reader#sleepy bois x reader#sleepy bois inc#sleepy boys inc#sbi x reader#x reader#reader insert#teen! reader#mcyt x reader#minecraft youtubers#minecraft youtubers x reader#dreamsmp x reader
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To Ruined Friendships
Fandom: Westworld
Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; spicy language, alcohol consumption, heavy smoochin
Author's Note: This entire thing was inspired by a dream I had about one black hat cowboy who cannot for the life of him consume a drink without looking like he's going to inhale it. I tried to work on my other WIPs for an entirely different fandom, but my brain refused to focus on anyone other than Logan Delos. I don't have the energy to create a sideblog for this, so any Logan fans who happen to find this from the tags, please don't judge me for the other fandom(s) I'm in. I already know, lol.
Word Count/Reading Time: +/- 2600 words (10 minutes reading)
hell if I know who to tag for this...if I ever write more and you want to get an update, leave a comment, I guess?: @the-blind-assassin-12 @ao719 @the-soot-sprite possibly @ofpixelsandscribbles @burnsoslow
Another night rubbing shoulders with the elite in a penthouse, and all you want to do is retreat into one of the half dozen empty rooms to rest your feet. Beauty always has a price, and tonight your feet were being sacrificed to the stiletto gods in the name of fashion. As a waiter weaves between guests, you deftly trade the empty crystal flute in your hand for a fresh one off their tray, the slim glass chilling your fingertips.
A tiny, imperceptible sigh slips past your lips as you look out at the wall of windows, city skyline twinkling in the distance. Glancing through the crowd, you try to find a familiar face of one of your girlfriends, when you feel someone’s fingers on your back, ghosting over the ink at the base of your spine. Over your shoulder, a warm, though somewhat world-weary voice makes your body tingle. “Hey gorgeous, I was wondering if I’d see you here tonight.”
You know he’s grinning before you even turn your head; a sly smile spreads across your painted lips when you see you were right, and you lean in to press your cheek to Logan’s in greeting. His beard tickles your face, and the movement is small, but you feel him pull you closer to him, pressing his fingertips into your smooth skin. “You know me,” you reply, gently squeezing his bicep for balance, noses nearly touching as you both move to kiss the other cheek. “Any excuse to squander part of my father’s fortune on a party dress.”
His cheek twitches up as he grins wider, and once more, the grit in his voice makes you want to find a dark corner and do unspeakable things with him. “Only you could make a napkin’s worth of fabric look like couture,” he teases, stepping back to admire your outfit. “I own pocket squares larger than what you’ve got on!” His gaze lowers appreciatively, taking you in, before settling at your feet. You shift your weight from one hip to the other; tilting your head back to take a sip of champagne, you’re surprised to see his dark eyes on you as you swallow and lower the glass. There’s a hint of something there, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Been here long? Why don’t we find somewhere quiet to catch up? You can let your hair down, along with… anything else, to get comfortable.” Were it not for the playful expression in his eyes, his proposition would warrant throwing the remainder of your drink directly into his exquisite face.
But you know Logan. You’ve known him too long for the invitation to be anything but amicable, much to your dismay. You’re well aware of the caliber of women he’s taken to the bedroom, and while you consider yourself attractive enough for the circles you keep, there’s no way he would ever see you as more than just a family friend. Knowing that doesn’t keep you from stroking his ego and taunting him at every opportunity, though. “My hair’s already down,” you tease, grinning as you roll your eyes at him.
“You know what I mean,” he replies, brushing your tresses over one shoulder. His thumb lingers on the strip of silk there, slipping between the material to rest on your skin, before pulling away. “We’ve known each other for years now, you’d think there would’ve been one night of indecency.” Before you’re able to respond, he glances up, noticing one of the other guests. “To be continued,” he says, raising his brows to you. He’s already begun to walk away.
“As always,” you reply, raising your glass to him.
-
You catch his eye more than a few times as you both make the rounds, catching up with friends and being introduced to new acquaintances vying for a way into social circles and business ventures. He winks at you before throwing back a drink, appearing as if he’d take a bite out of the glass to get every last drop of liquid from it. You nod as you pass by him while he converses with another guest, your arm linked with a friend’s as you walk off to powder your noses. You even catch him looking at you from across the room like he wants to ask you something, but the moment disappears when he pulls his phone from his pocket to take a call.
The evening goes on much longer than you anticipated. Even with windows of interesting conversation to pass the time, you begin to grow weary of the company, drowning out a discussion around you while you stake a claim on one of the pristine white couches. Your legs are crossed in front of you, one foot dangling in the air, while the one closer to the floor looks like it’s about to snap away from the rest of your leg. You’re balancing the weight on a sliver of one side of the heels, and you gaze out at the outdoor pool, wishing you could sit by the edge and dip your feet in the cool, chlorinated water.
Scanning through the guests once more, you notice Logan at the bar. He’s in the middle of a conversation with two gentlemen, but he catches your eye, glancing over long enough to notice your legs again. He flicks his eyes upwards to the rooms, tilting his head at an angle in silent question. You scoff and shake your head, blinking slowly to dismiss his invitation, and give up your position on the couch to go to look for the bathroom. He simply smiles as you cross the room, before returning to the conversation at the bar.
-
You’re outside on one of the balconies, forearms resting on the brushed steel railing as you lean against metal and glass, absentmindedly staring out at the city. The cool night air feels refreshing against your skin, now warm and flushed from too much champagne and not enough food; there’s never enough food at these things, and you would sell your soul for a plate of loaded nachos or even a tiny slider. Behind you, there’s a click and a hiss from the plate glass door opening. Jovial music and conversation from inside filters through the temporary break, and you sigh to yourself in preparation of putting on your party face to make idle conversation.
“That is one hell of a view.” An all too familiar voice fills the air after the door hisses shut. Logan.
You respond without turning around to acknowledge him. “Your family sure knows how to pick a party venue, I’ll give you that.”
“We do, but that’s not the view I was talking about.”
Body warming at his suggestive tone, you turn around to see Logan’s eyes fixed on your backside, unashamed of his blatant ogling. There’s a glass tumbler in his hand, with barely a sip’s worth of what looks like whiskey in it. “There you go again, getting a girl’s hopes up,” you tease, fidgeting with your hair.
“You know you’re fucking gorgeous, especially in that dress tonight.” His voice travels as he walks over to a darker part of the balcony, swirling the remnants of his drink.
Emboldened by the alcohol still coursing through your system, you play along, walking slowly towards him. “Let me guess, next you’re going to tell me it would look even better in a pile next to your bed.” You roll your eyes at him, but your heart begins to race at the idea.
He grins warmly at you, a tendril of hair knocking loose when he tilts his head and shrugs. You want to reach forward and smooth it back in place, and run your fingers against the side of his scalp. His hair’s longer than it was before; he’s been away at the park for a longer visit this time around. His unnervingly dark eyes are practically black in the shadows, eyeing you like prey. Extending a hand towards you, he reaches for the strap on your shoulder again as if to adjust it, but instead he lifts it and lets it fall off the slope of your skin, staring at the unblemished swath of flesh before him. You feel the material fall until it rests in the crook of your elbow, thankful to be holding up a glass to keep the silk from falling away any further off your body. “A dress like this? I’d have the decency to hang it up first.” He tugs at the fabric again, pulling it up over your shoulder to return your modesty.
“Keep saying shit like that, and one of these days I might believe you.”
“Should I keep talking then?” He chuckles.
You exhale, shaking your head with disbelief. He takes another step away from where you can be seen, and you follow him. “I’m not drunk enough to take you seriously,” you scoff, looking just beyond his gaze.
Logan reaches forward again, fingers landing on the base of your glass, and he pushes it up towards your mouth. “Then by all means, take another sip,” he grins.
“Bullshit,” you utter through a nervous smile, though you don’t stop yourself from tipping the edge of the flute to your lips and tilting your head up, downing half the contents in one gulp.
“Fuck it,” he whispers.
You swallow, and effervescent bubbles tickle the length of your throat so much that it takes you a second to register feeling Logan’s lips at the juncture of your jawline and earlobe. The way his beard brushes against you as you pull the glass away from your lips makes you lose your grip, and the flute falls to the ground, shattering near your feet. You gasp with surprise, unsure if it’s from the shock of dropping the glass or from the fact that Logan fucking Delos just kissed you.
In one swift movement, Logan wraps his unencumbered hand around your waist to pivot you away from the broken glass. His drink-laden hand blindly stretches out to set the glass on the thin metal railing, and he kisses you properly this time, impossibly soft lips on your open mouth and both of his hands are on your waist. He tastes sweet, smokey and woody from the whiskey, setting your lips on fire as he kisses you. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, gripping at his suit jacket as he leads you both towards an exterior wall. The shock of the cool wall against your exposed back makes you gasp again, and you push Logan away. “What’re you doing?” Your head is swimming, blood pulsing from the alcohol and the rush of emotions as you search Logan’s eyes for an answer.
“Might be ending our friendship,” he laughs wryly. His eyes land on your lips, before looking up to meet your gaze. “Want me to stop?”
The look in his eyes is intense; two black pools stare into you, daring you to continue. You tug the lapels of his jacket, pulling him close as your pelvis tilts forward to meet his. “Finish what you start,” you whisper, Cheshire-grin giving away your desire. He kisses you again, grabbing hold of the back of your thighs as he lifts you. You spread your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he presses you up against the wall, the pair of you kissing each other like it’s your last night on earth. There’s an urgency in your actions; if there’s a moment of hesitation from either of you, the spell will break, so you ignore the burning in your lungs to kiss him again. When you feel how hard he is pressed up against you, you tilt your head back and let your eyes flutter closed. He takes it as an opportunity to swirl his tongue against your neck, and you think about feeling his tongue elsewhere on your body.
Your back presses against the wall even more, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist tighter, pinning you in place. As you utter curses of pleasure into the night air, your feet feel relief for the first time all night, weightless as you destroy any propriety that existed with Logan Delos.
-
You can feel the sun against your eyelids, and the soft sounds of someone typing away at a keyboard. Between the dull ache at the base of your skull and your throbbing temples, you smack your lips together a few times, grimacing at the dryness in your mouth. You turn your face into what you think is a pillow, but determine to be a fleece blanket due to its soft yet formless design. There’s a faint aroma of coffee in the air, and you hope your roommate left some in the carafe. “Dear god, don’t let me drink that much ever again,” you groan, voice strained and scratchy from dehydration. “I made a complete ass of myself in front of Logan.” A minute passes without your roommate’s usual prodding; all you hear is typing now and then. “How’d we get home?”
You’re met with more silence, but your level of irritation is nothing compared to the hangover headache growing with each passing minute of consciousness. You’re about to ask for Tylenol, when you hear the click and hiss of a glass door opening, followed by the sound of someone splashing in a pool. The apartment you share with your roommate has no access to a pool, let alone a back door made of glass. Opening your eyes feels like peeling apart pieces of tape, but with effort you blink slowly and allow your eyes to focus, trying to ignore the glare from the midday sun. You realize the fleece blanket you were resting on was your arm, nestled in the sleeve of a plush bathrobe. It was the kind of robe often seen hanging in the bathroom of high-end hotels.
“That was a side of you I haven’t seen before. Good morning, sunshine.” The voice is distinctively, impossibly Logan’s, with a new note of lightness to it that wasn’t present during last night’s party. “Care to see something interesting?”
You push yourself off the sofa slowly, adjusting the robe on you - apparently you fell asleep wearing it, and you have no idea where your dress or shoes are - and sit up. Logan’s dressed casually in black, seated at a desk a few feet away, with multiple monitors in front of him. One looks to be running code or tracking stock market activity, but he disconnects the laptop in the middle of the desk and carries it over to the couch, taking a seat next to you. There’s a video clip paused on the screen, and he waits to make sure you’re alert enough to watch, before letting it play.
The video shows a clip from the hotel’s CCTV cameras, pointed at the infinity pool. The only lights are coming from the pool walls, and the timestamp reflects it was the middle of the night, long after the party would’ve ended. There’s a naked male figure treading water matching Logan’s build, and then an undressed woman appears from the bottom edge of the frame, preparing to jump into the pool with him. You gasp, covering your mouth with one hand, making out a tattoo on her lower back - your tattoo - before cannonballing into the pool and making out with Logan just before dipping under the water’s surface.
Logan pauses the video, beaming an annoyingly adorable smug expression across his face as he resists the urge to tease you right away. Instead, he leans over, pecks your cheek, and eyes the glimpse of cleavage availed to him between the folds of your robe. “Lady’s choice - I could fuck your hangover away, or there’s coffee in the kitchen. What’ll it be?”
#logan delos#logan delos x reader#westworld#zaffrenotes writes#apparently for more than one fandom now#is this a fluke?#cw: alcohol#cw: swearing#cw: mild citrus#more than a lime but less than lemons#I love the way Ben cannot drink or eat like a normal human#it's endearing and I love him for it#chomp chomp Bennie
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it’s just around the corner darling (‘cause it lives in me)
8-year-old Annabeth is supposed to be sleeping. Instead, she overhears a few things she probably shouldn't.
***
Aka I get very in my feels about pre-TLT found family and baby Annabeth
“She’s a little kid, of course she’s fuckin’ slow.”
Thalia’s words seemed to turn Annabeth’s blood to ice.
She was supposed to be sleeping, and she almost had been before Grover and Thalia had started yelling at each other outside the door of the safe house they’d just barely made it too.
Well, until Thalia had started yelling at Grover, because Grover didn’t really yell, and he definitely didn’t yell at Thalia, who he always seemed particularly nervous and twitchy around.
All thoughts of sleeping were immediately banished as panic seized Annabeth instead.
Read on AO3
She kept herself as still as possible, eyes shut like she was sleeping. She heard Luke shift, maybe looking over his shoulder.
Annabeth wished she could see his face. Did he think she was slow too? Did Grover want to leave her behind? Luke would never let that happen, Annabeth knew that much, but she couldn’t help the guilt from washing over her anyway. Luke had had to carry her the last few miles tonight because her legs just wouldn’t work anymore, not matter how hard she tried to push them. That had only happened a few times ever, Annabeth made sure of it, but she knew they were trying to go fast now, and they were walking and running more than they ever had before. Luke hadn’t been mad, just scooped her up when he saw her stumbling. But they had gone slower after that, and it was her fault.
Annabeth felt her eyes prickle with tears, and she blinked them into her makeshift pillow. Crying was stupid, and it wasnt going to make her faster. She willed herself to stop before anyone could hear— Luke thought she was asleep, and she didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t.
Thalia and Grover were talking again, but their voices were just barely too quiet for her to make out the words. Thalia sounded mad, and Grover was talking fast, like he was trying to get the words out before Thalia yelled at him again. Annabeth picked up Grover saying “please” a few times, and then Thalia saying “no” very forcefully. They argued for another minute, Annabeth’s heart beating in nervous anticipation for each word.
“Don’t bring it up again,” Thalia snapped, loud enough for Annabeth to hear, and then she heard the door of the safe house being pulled back, and soft footsteps walking inside.
“Is she asleep?” Thalia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a sharp contrast from the tone she’d been using outside with Grover. Luke must have nodded, because Thalia sighed, and Annabeth heard her sitting down.
“What was that all about?” Luke asked. Annabeth could hear the forced casual tone he was putting on. If Annabeth had heard part of the conversation then Luke must have too, but he seemed like he wanted Thalia herself to tell him. Thalia made a displeased noise.
“Grover wants me and him to go ahead. Without you two,” she said, lowering her voice even more than she had when she first entered the safe house. Despite how quiet they were, Annabeth could still practically feel the distaste in her words. Annabeth could feel her heart speeding up uncomfortably. Was Thalia going to leave them behind? But she didn’t sound happy about it at all, and that calmed Annabeth’s nerves a little.
“What did you say?” Luke asked. The forced tone was gone, replaced by irritation, Annabeth thought. It was harder to tell without being able to see his expression, but Annabeth could imagine the frown on his face pretty well.
“I told him where he could stick his furry little hooves,” Thalia muttered bitterly. Annabeth didn’t quite understand what that meant, but judging from the way Luke snorted it was probably kind of rude.
“Bet he liked that,” Luke said, sarcastically.
“Whatever. He’s the reason we’re behind anyway,” Thalia said.
She sounded angry. Annabeth knew that shouldn’t make her feel good. Thalia being mad never tended to end well, regardless of where her anger was directed. But Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief anyway. If Thalia was angry at Grover’s suggestion then that meant wasn’t leaving.
At the same time, her words filled Annabeth with dread. They were behind, and that was bad, and Annabeth was slowing them down. Even Thalia had said so.
“Why did he want to split up at all? Isn’t three fighters better than one?” Luke asked. The forced casualness was back, and Annabeth didn’t like it, but she couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride that he’d counted her as one of the fighters in the group.
Thalia sighed again, and Annabeth heard a scraping noise. A second later the heat from the campfire flared.
“He said it would be faster,” Thalia said finally, reluctantly, “And that it might be safer for you two to not have me around.”
“That’s bullshit,” Luke said, angrily.
“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What, you think you’re special?” Luke said, though now his tone was laced with amusement.
“Well apparently I smell extra tasty,” Thalia replied, only a hint sarcastic. Luke laughed, low and quiet.
“I don’t think it matters,” he said, “Annie had monsters crawling all over her all by herself.”
Annabeth had to actively repress a shudder at the thought. She couldn’t move, couldn’t let them figure out she was awake— they would stop talking about adult things and she would miss it.
“That’s true,” Thalia said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“You’re not thinking about it, are you?”
“Of course I’m not,” Thalia said, sounding offended that Luke had even asked, “I’m pissed he even brought it up, especially after Annabeth was the one to save all our asses from that cyclops. He kept saying she’s slowing us down but we’d all be dead without her.”
Annabeth felt the same mixture of dread and pride as before. She was useful enough to not leave behind. Even if she was slow, and thinking of the cyclops cave made her want to cry.
“Asshole. He’s the one slowing us down, not knowing where the fuck he’s going,” Luke muttered darkly.
“I almost feel bad for the guy,” Thalia sighed. Annabeth heard more scraping and felt the fire flare again. “I mean he’s a kid just like us.”
“A kid who’s going to get us all killed if we’re not careful.”
Thalia hummed in agreement, and they were quiet for a minute. Annabeth didn’t really know what to think. She liked Grover— he was funny and he let her touch his hooves and he taught her how to play hacky sack— but she could tell that Luke didn’t and Thalia was starting not to. And Grover apparently didn’t like her. Or he thought she was slow, at least— but that made Thalia and Luke mad, even if they thought it was true. It was all very confusing, but she thought Luke and Thalia were on her side, at least.
“Is it weird I like watching her sleep?” Thalia asked, finally. With a start Annabeth realized they were talking about her. She tried extra hard to keep her breathing even.
“Why, ‘cause she’s not chattering your ear off?” Luke teased. Annabeth heard a soft thump and Luke’s laughter, and knew Thalia had probably punched him in the arm.
“I’d have her chat my ear off any day than have her be quiet like she’s been,” Thalia said. Luke didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the campfire. Annabeth could feel both their eyes on her, and she forced herself to keep looking asleep.
“I think the whole cyclops thing really freaked her out,” Thalia sighed, when Luke hadn’t spoken for a minute.
“Of course it freaked her out, she watched us all almost get eaten,” he snapped, his voice angry. Annabeth’s stomach turned. She tried to keep her expression smooth, even though she could practically smell the cyclops’ lair again. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose, or better yet, open her eyes and confirm that she wasn’t back there again. Their voices weren’t good enough to do that anymore, not after the monster had stolen them. She repressed another shudder.
“Well that’s why we have to get to this camp thing, right? So she doesn’t have to see shit like that anymore.”
Thalia sounded calm, not mad, but when Luke spoke again he still sounded angry.
“Bit late for that,” he said, voice quiet and bitter, and Thalia sighed again.
“Better late than never.”
Luke didn’t say anything.
Annabeth felt nerves swoop through her stomach. Did Luke not want to go to camp? He’d made it sound nice when he’d told her about it, but now he just sounded mad. Thalia wanted to, and that was a comforting thought for a minute until Annabeth remembered that Grover had wanted to split them up. But Thalia had also said she wasn’t leaving, and she’d sounded sure about that. Everything was so confusing, and Annabeth didn’t know how to figure it out. It didn’t help that her brain felt dizzy from being tired.
It took a while for either of them to talk again, to the point where Annabeth had almost drifted off to sleep for real. When Thalia spoke again her voice was quiet, so much so that Annabeth almost thought she dreamed it.
“She looks relaxed. Like a normal kid on a camping trip or something. That’s why I like watching her sleep.”
Luke sighed, heavy and deep.
“You should get some too,” he said, not really acknowledging Thalia’s words.
“You need to rest too,” Thalia said, lightly, “Grover’s keeping watch.”
Luke snorted again at that, but it was much less humorous this time. Thalia didn’t seem amused, anyway.
“Come on. You’re exhausted.”
“I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch,” Luke said. Thalia made an annoyed noise, but didn’t say anything else. Annabeth felt someone lie down next to her, felt light fingers adjust the jacket she was using as a blanket so it covered her arms more fully.
Annabeth didn’t want to sleep. She knew there would be nightmares waiting for her the second she slipped out of consciousness, and she didn’t want to see them again.
But they would be walking a lot tomorrow, and she couldn’t walk if she was tired. And if she couldn’t walk then she would slow them down even more than she already was.
So instead of resisting it anymore, she let the exhaustion wash over her, pulling her into bad dreams. It would be okay in the morning. Her family would be there when she woke up, and she wasn’t going to let them down.
#it’s about the found family of it all ya know#annabeth chase#pre-TLT#Thalia grace#luke castellan#PJO#PJO fic#baby Annabeth#percy jackson fanfiction#Percy Jackson fic#percy jackson#pjo#pjo fic#I swear I’m still working on the PD2 AU!!! this just hit me over the head I had to write it#I made this on mobile so I’m sorry if the formatting is ass lol
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A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)
Masterlist
a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.
***
As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.
“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.
He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.
For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”
“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”
Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.
“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”
Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”
“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.
“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”
This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.
When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”
Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”
He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”
Azriel is no longer amused.
“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”
Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?
He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.
He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.
She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.
That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.
But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”
Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”
Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”
“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.
Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?
Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”
“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.
“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.
Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.
“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.
“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”
“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.
He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”
Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”
Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”
“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”
He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.
“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”
“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?
But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”
Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”
“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”
“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.
“It’s short for Maximillian.”
He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.
Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.
Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”
He shakes his head.
“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.
He swallows his toast roughly.
“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”
Damn, okay.
Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.
“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.
He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.
Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”
“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.
Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”
Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.
“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.
Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”
“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”
***
a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this
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Family Troubles
Pairing: JJ x Routledge!Reader, mostly John B x Routledge!Reader sibling dynamic
Summary: (Requested) After the death of your brother, you move to the mainland with a nice foster family. Months later, you get the biggest shock of your life that leaves you questioning what you want.
Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. I hope this is what you were looking for!
Word Count: 4.6k
You peek your eyes open to another sunny autumn day as your alarm echos off the walls of your room through your phone. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t dread the day ahead of you. Because you feel like you’re finally living a life worth living.
It’s been about three months since John B disappeared. The worst three months of your life. You never would have imagined living a life without your twin brother. It was lonely and heart wrenching. You didn’t think you would get through it. And living with the Cameron’s didn’t make your life any easier. Ward tried blocking you off from the rest of the world. He was afraid of what you could do to his reputation despite knowing most people wouldn’t believe you. You were just a Pogue with a criminal background.Your word means nothing to Kooks and cops alike. Nonetheless, Ward didn’t want to take any chances.
It wasn’t until you finally got in touch with Cheryl, your social worker, that your life started to change for the better. You couldn’t believe the irony of running to your social worker for help when you’ve been running away from her all summer. Surprisingly, she did hear you. She listened to you. She believed you! Although there wasn’t much she could do about Ward, she could help you get out from under his neglectful guardianship.
She placed you in a foster home with an eager Spanish American couple on the main land. Of course you weren’t ecstatic about it. Foster care was never something you wanted to be placed in. Especially without your brother. But at the time, anything was better than living with Ward Cameron.
The worst part of the process was telling your best friends. Kie and Pope, although disappointed, were happy for you because they knew this was what was best for you. JJ, however, didn’t understand how you could be so cool calm and collected about moving. Losing you to Figure Eight was hard enough and now he was going to have open water separating you two? He didn’t cope well with the news. He barely talked to you as you gathered your stuff to leave, almost didn’t show up to say his final goodbye with Kie and Pope. But he came as you were about to get on the ferry with Cheryl. The two of you cried and told each other you were sorry. You kissed his cheek and slipped a small piece of paper with your new address into his pockets. JJ reluctantly let you go with a promise that he will visit you as soon as he could and you believed him. Because he was your best friend, your soul mate, and partner in crime.
JJ saves up every week to take the ferry to visit you. He usually comes every Sunday, respecting your foster parents’ wishes that he not stay the night. At first they were wary of him coming over - they know about your past from the social worker and the News and how JJ was a part of it. They wanted you to have a new beginning. A fresh start. They believed you when you said your brother wasn’t a murderer and that you and your friends did nothing wrong. They were just afraid that JJ would convince you to come back to the Outer Banks (which he’s tried), or make you regress to past trouble making behaviors. But you explained to Maria and Luis, your foster parents, how important JJ is to you and that he needed to be a part of you life no matter where you were living. So they allowed him weekend visits, always making sure to keep an eye on you when he was here.
Someone lightly taps on your door until you say, “Come in.”
Maria pokes her head in and smiles when she sees you’re awake. “Morning, honey. Your appointment is in thirty minutes. Will you be ready to leave soon?”
You offer her a smile and nod. “Yeah, I’ll be down in ten.”
Maria nods. “Okay.”
She closes the door gently, leaving you alone to get ready for your appointment with your therapist. You agreed with your new foster parents to go to therapy once a week. They thought it would help you move on and grow and get rid of the nightmares that sometimes terrorize you at night. You went because you felt like you owed it to them to make an effort. They weren’t like the other foster couples you hear horror stories about. If they were gonna be there for you, you were gonna be there for them too.
The therapy sessions were working. You’re more open to talking about what you went through. The therapist never gave you any inclination that she was judging you or analyzing you. She just listened and asked you how you were feeling about everything. She helped you adjust to this new life on the mainland and taught you new coping strategies that didn’t involve getting into fights or arguing with the cops. She helped you through your anxiety about starting a new school and making new friends. She even prescribed you some anxiety meds that helped with your nightmares and panic attacks.
Both Maria and Luis drive you to your therapy appointment. You silently question why the both of them felt the need to accompany you to your appointment. You mentally list all the reasons as to why they both would want to come when usually it’s just one or the other. You’re too afraid to ask, thinking they’re about to drop a bomb on you and send you back to the island. You don’t want to hear it, procrastinating the inevitable for as long as possible.
When Dr. Hildegard greets you in the waiting room, she waves not only you but your foster parents as well into her office. The three of you take a seat on the brown leather couch in front of her chair. You awkwardly glance between your therapist and your foster parents, trying to read the room. You dig your nails into the skin of your hand to keep yourself calm, focusing on the slight stinging pain it leaves you.
“Good morning, Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. She takes notice of your fidgeting hands and smiles. “I know you must be confused and anxious right now. But Maria and Luis have something they want to ask you and felt you would be more comfortable having this conversation with me present.”
“Okay...” You say wearily.
Luis and Maria hold each other’s hands as they turn to look at you. You feel a little better when you see a smile on their face, making you think it isn’t going to be bad news.
“Y/N, how would feel about officially being a part of our family?”
You glance between your therapist and your foster parents and tilt your head in confusion. “I don’t understand...”
“Y/N,” Dr. Hildegard says. “Maria and Luis would like to adopt you.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, back at the Outer Banks, JJ is getting ready to leave his house to make the last ferry to the mainland. He had to pick up another shift to afford another boat ride and a date for tonight, which left him racing against the clock.
Someone knocks on his front door. “Shit,” He curses and looks at the clock. 3:04. He needed to leave twenty minutes ago. He doesn’t have time to talk to anyone right now. He figures it’s his dad’s probation officer or druggie looking for money. So he ignores it so he can find his wallet.
But the knocking persists.
“Fuck,” JJ grunts and storms to the front door. “He’s not here -”
JJ freezes as he rips the door open. He didn’t know who he was going to find, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his dead best friend to be standing on his door step.
John B smirks up at his shocked reaction. “Hey, stud. Miss me?”
JJ’s brain is doing flips inside his skull, knocking around with so many questions and curses and phrases and shouts. But with that is the immense excitement and relief that takes over his entire body.
JJ jumps on him and wraps his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. Tears inevitably prick his eyes and he physically holds onto John B. He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he would get this opportunity again. To see and hold his best friend - the best friend that’s supposed to be dead.
“Wow. Who knew JJ Maybank could get so emotional?” John B jokes, trying to hide his own tears through his laugh.
JJ removes himself from John B and shoves him back by the shoulders lightly. He wipes his upper lips with the back of his hand and sniffles back the rest of his tears. “Shut up, bro.” JJ narrows his eyes at the dead man in front of him and asks, “What the fuck happened? Where’s Sarah? Is she -”
"Sarah’s fine. We’re trying to lay low right now. No one knows we’re back.”
“What -”
“Look, I know you’re confused and there’s so much I need to tell you guys, but first I need to see my sister.” John B says with a sweet grin on his lips at the mention of his sister. He was most excited to see her - his first best friend and partner in crime. “Is she here?” JJ’s face falls at the mention of Y/N because he doesn’t know how John B is going to take the news that she’s no longer on the island. John B notices JJ’s hesitation and immediately get’s worried. “Where’s Y/N, JJ?”
“She’s not here.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You trail behind Maria and Luis as they unlock the front door to their house. The car ride home was awkwardly silent. You didn’t know what to say.
“Oh...” You said. You weren’t expecting that. You thought they’d be telling you the complete opposite. Yet, you didn’t know how to feel about their proposition.
Maria and Luis looked at Dr. Hildegard for some insight or ice breaker since you froze up on the spot. You looked back down at your hand and pressed your nails even harder into your skin, leaving half crescent moons indented in your palm.
Dr. Hildegard kept her calm smile and said softly, “Why don’t Y/N and I speak alone and I’ll grab you guys at the end?”
Maria and Luis, although a little disappointed by your reaction, agreed and stepped out of the room.
When the two of you were alone, Dr. Hildegard asked, “How are you feeling right now, Y/N?”
“I uh...” You stammered. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess.”
“Usually when kids in foster care are offered adoption, they’re excited. Do you like living with Maria and Luis?”
“Yeah, they’re great. It’s just...” The last time someone offered to take you in as part of their family, it didn’t end well. It changed your life for the worst, you lost your only living family member left, and is the reason why you were here today. Although foster care isn’t that much different, you didn’t expect to stay with Maria and Luis past 18 years old.
“Rebuilding a sense of trust can be difficult after past traumas. But taking those necessary steps, of letting new people in your life, can help you over those humps.”
“Why don’t you get ready for volleyball practice? I’ll take you there when you’re ready,” Luis says as the three of you walked inside.
You nod silently and quickly hide in your room. You fall back on your bed that suddenly feels different than it did this morning. Like a reminder that it didn’t belong to you.
But maybe it could.
You get changed for volleyball in a pair of spandex and a t shirt. When you close the drawer, something falls on your dresser, catching your attention.
You pick up the fallen picture frame of you, John B, and the rest of the Pogues on Memorial Day Weekend. Kie had taken a selfie with all of you making silly faces at the camera in the middle of the marsh. That day always brings back amazing memories for you. Oh how you wished you could have another day like that.
You stare a little longer at John B in that photo. What would he say if he was with you right now? Would he say yes to Maria and Luis like he did to Ward? Or would he encourage you to be more careful about who you trust with your life?
Maria knocks on your door and says, “You ready, sweetheart?”
You place the frame back on the dresser and walk out into the hall to meet her. “Yes.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“So this couple....” John B says as he follows JJ off the ferry on the mainland.
“Maria and Luis,” JJ says. On the way here, he told John B everything. About how horrendous your life was after John B “died.” How Ward treated you like a prisoner. How you practically begged Cheryl to help you. How you ended up on the mainland with a lovely married couple.
“Are they...nice?”
JJ shrugs. “They seem like good people. You can tell they don’t like me around, but that might just be because they associate me with all the bad shit that happened to us because of Ward.”
“Does she like it here?” John B says as he takes in his new surroundings. As he and JJ walk towards your neighborhood, which isn’t too far from the ferry, he thinks about what your life could become here. Nice neighborhoods, friendly towns. It’s definitely better than the Cut. But it wasn’t home.
“She’s learning to, I think,” JJ answers honestly. “She doesn’t like being so far away from the Pogues.”
“Yeah, I can understand the feeling,” John B says. Although it was nice to have Sarah around while they were gone, he couldn’t help but feel like a giant chunk of his heart was missing. And that was the Pogues.
“This is it,” JJ says as they reach the end of a short driveway on the outskirts of town. A two story baby blue home with white shutters and a rose bush. Bigger than the houses on the Cut and smaller than the houses on Figure Eight.
“This is where she’s been staying?” John B asks. Something swarms inside his brain. He doesn’t know if it’s betrayal or jealousy.
“Yup,” JJ says, popping the ‘p’, “Her room is on the side.”
JJ knocks on the front door and looks down at his watch while he waits. Somehow, he managed to be about ten minutes early. Probably because of John B’s hustle to find his sister as soon as possible.
Luis opens the door with a friendly grin that quickly falters when he sees who accompanies JJ.
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Morales. Is Y/N, here?”
Luis looks between the boys and inhales a deep breath. He knows John B from the pictures on the News, the stories in the paper, and the cries of his name when Y/N was terrorized with nightmares in the beginning of her stay.
Although the adoption process just started, he and his wife felt like they were finally forming a family-like bond with Y/N. Dr. Hildegard suggested starting over would be in Y/N’s best interest, encouraging new friendships, joining extracurricular activities at school, staying away from the Outer Banks for a while. Luis and Maria made an exception for JJ, seeing how happy he truly made Y/N. But they never expected to see John B.
And he didn’t know what that meant for his family.
John B notices Luis’s hesitation and politely holds out his hand. “I’m John Booker Routledge. Y/N’s brother.”
Luis reluctantly shakes his hand, although apprehensive, never rude. He coughs awkwardly and looks back at JJ without saying a word to John B. “Tonight’s not a good night -”
“What do you mean? Sunday’s our day. She didn’t tell me she was busy -”
“I’m sorry, son. Maybe next week.” Luis shuts the door before JJ or John B could argue.
John B knocks again and even rings the doorbell. “Mr. Morales! Hey! Come back!”
“Here,” JJ pulls John B by his arm. “Come here.”
JJ and John B round to the side of the house where your window sits right under the middle point of the roof. JJ find’s the nearest and smallest rock and tosses it up at the glass of your window.
“What are you? Fucking, Romeo?” John B glares at his friend.
“You have a better idea?” JJ glares right back. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Morales to call the cops if we kept banging on his door. They’re pretty protective of Y/N, which means they’ve never been truly fond of me.”
“Maybe she’s not here,” John B suggests.
“She’s always -”
JJ freezes when he hears a car pull into the driveway. They both look at each other before walking back to the front of the house. JJ notices Maria first when she steps out of the car. She has a smilier reaction to John B as her husband which makes John B bounce on his toes nervously.
You don’t see him at first, with your back turned to grab your bag. Then you spot him immediately.
You stiffen when you see both JJ and....your dead brother standing on the lawn. Suddenly your mouth feels dry and your heart is beating the crap out of your ribs.
“Y/N...” Maria says wearily.
“Hey, Dimples,” John B says with a smile, using the nickname he and your father use to call you when you were younger due to the deep pits in your cheeks when you smiled.
Your eyes shift to JJ who looks at you with pinched eye brows. He was expecting a different reaction. One where you run into your brother’s arms and squeeze the shit out of him in a tight hug.
But instead, you were feeling numb. You never expected to be face to face with your brother ever again. You convinced yourself he was really dead because holding onto hope that he was still alive was slowly killing you and even holding you back. You needed closure and that closure was accepting the truth that John B was dead and to never be found.
Yet, here he is. Standing and breathing and watching your reaction with a hurt expression.
“Y/N...” Maria says again and lightly touches your shoulder.
“I’m fine,” You finally speak, flinching at the way your throat feels scratchy. You swallow and turn to Maria and offer a polite grin. “I’ll be right in.”
“I don’t know...”
“Please, Maria,” You say, this time a tad more forceful but not rude.
Maria hesitantly nods and blocks herself away with the front door.
“I - I don’t - “ You huff. “How?”
“The Phantom...” John B licks his lips nervously. “Capsized...and Sarah and I...well...a shipment boat found us. Took us right to the Bahamas.”
“The Bahamas?” You repeat, taking two steps closer to him.
“Yes. There’s so much I have to tell you -”
“Like the part where you couldn’t call?” You say accusingly.
John B sighs. He should have expected it, but he didn’t prepare for it. He thought you’d be happy to see him, but now he’s realizing how hurt and confused he’s truly left you.
“It’s a long story -”
“Yeah, I’d expect the summary of your last few months to be a long one.” You look at JJ. “Did you know about this?”
JJ shakes his head. “He showed up on my way here.”
John B sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t find a way to contact you, but we couldn’t! We didn’t want the cops realizing we were alive and we were looking for the gold -”
“The gold?” You laugh humorlessly and your hands run up your head to your scalp. Your fingers tug on the roots of your hair in frustration. “The gold’s gone!”
“It’s not! If you would just listen -”
“I don’t want to listen, John B! Because I don’t care about the gold. That gold took everything from me!” You yell as tears begin to build in your eyes, thinking back to what happened last summer. “I lost Dad, you, my home... I can only see my boyfriend once a week. And I was treated like a prisoner in the house of a murderer!”
“I know that it couldn’t have been easy for you but -”
“No. You have no idea what it was like for me when you were gone. Because you weren’t there!” You cry. “You left! You were living it up in the Bahamas, searching for gold, while the rest of us cried over your death and suffered the consequences!” Tears were now silently streaming down both John B’s cheeks and JJ’s as they watched you break down. “I couldn't sleep for weeks. I barely ate. Ward locked me in a room so I couldn’t tell anyone about what he did.”
“I’m sorry,” John B says. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Back home -”
“Home?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I have a home.”
“This isn’t your home,” John B says defensively.
“It has been. For the past few months. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?” You say with a glare. You look at the house behind him, noticing Maria and Luis snooping through the curtains of the window. You think back on what happened today and the options you had. At first it was a hard decision to make and now it’s damn right near impossible. “Maria and Luis offered to adopt me.” You say honestly.
John B inhales sharply and JJ furrows his brows.
“What?” John B says.
“I didn’t give them an answer yet. But this is an opportunity to start over.”
John B glares at you. “Think about your family!”
“I am!”
You suddenly feel exhausted and weak, like the day has lasted over twenty four hours. Your head begins to throb and your neck aches.
You sigh, “Look, I’m happy you’re all right and safe and unharmed, from the looks of it. But...I just need some time. Okay?”
“Y/N...”
“Please, John B?” You’re practically begging.
John B sighs and reluctantly nods his head at your request. At the end of the day, you owe him nothing and he owes you everything.
“Okay,” He agrees.
You walk past him without giving him a hug or anything, afraid you’ll break down in sobs and follow his lead back to the Outer Banks. But you need to be strong and figure out what it is you need in life, tired of following the path that always leaves you broken and alone.
You kiss JJ’s cheek as you walk by him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
JJ squeezes your hand before you disappear into your house. When the door shuts behind you, you slid down it onto the floor, finally letting your sobs wrack through your body. Maria and Luis run to comfort you to the best of their ability, but they don’t know how to truly help you.
Later that night, over a cup of tea, you tell Maria and Luis everything. From start to finish. How your dad was obsessed with finding the Royal Merchant, to the compass, to Ward taking you in, finding out he murdered your father and covered up Sheriff Peterkin’s murder by using your own brother.
Maria and Luis glance at each other nervously. They know how important family is, which is why they want you a part of theirs so badly. But they never want to take you away from one you already have and love.
“I think you should think long and hard about what you want over the next couple of days,” Luis says. “And we’ll help you in any way we can.”
“I’m sorry,” You say, wiping away your tears with a napkin. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”
“Honey,” Maria says, wiping another tear with her thumb. “We don’t want you to worry about that. This changes nothing for us, okay?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next day at dinner, Maria and Luis sit you down and offer eager grins. Just like they did at your last therapy appointment.
“Y/N...we have something we’d like to discuss with you,” Luis says.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With the help of JJ, you meet John B at the Wreck with the others for a civilized conversation. Now that you’ve had a few days to think and calm down, you’re able to really appreciate how lucky you are to have John B back in your life.
When you see him standing in the middle of the restaurant, you run to him and squeeze him around his waist as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You cry into his T shirt, telling him how sorry you are for your outburst.
“It’s okay,” John B cries into your hair. “You don’t have to be sorry. I should be the one apologizing.”
You pull away and wipe away your tears. “I think we’ve both been through hell and back and did what he had to do to survive. Neither of us should apologize.”
After giving the other Pogues a hug, the five of you sit down and recap each other’s last three months. John B tells you about his time in the Bahamas, how Sarah is laying low until she gets her shit figured out with her own family, and you describe life at a new town and a new school.
“It’s weird. There’s no division. No Kooks vs. Pogues. I don’t know if I like it or miss my enemies,” You say.
When the five of you are ready to say your goodbyes, you pull John b aside and say, “Actually, I think there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.” John B furrows his brows and follows you to a park where Maria and Luis are waiting at a picnic table.
When they see the two of you approaching, they stand and reach out to shake John B’s hand, officially introducing themselves and apologizing for being rude a week ago.
“It’s okay. I understand,” John B says. “Thank you for taking care of my sister.”
“Pleasure’s all ours,” Luis smiles. “We’re lucky to be able to meet you.”
“Y/N’s told us such great things,” Maria adds.
You roll your eyes playfully and look at John B to read his face. He seems to be enjoying himself.
“That’s a first,” He even jokes and looks your way.
“There’s actually something we wanted to ask you,” Luis says and takes his wife’s hand like he did at Dr. Hildegard’s. He looks at you to see if you want to explain. “Y/N...”
You take a deep breath and face your brother. “I have agreed to be adopted by Maria and Luis.”
“But -”
“Let me finish,” You cut John B off. “We talked about it and the three of us are going to move back to the Outer Banks to be closer to you and the Pogues.”
“But...” Maria says like a song with an excited grin.
You mirror her smile and say, “But...Maria and Luis want to know if you would like to a be a part of their family too?”
John B’s brows jump up in surprise. “Seriously?”
“I know it’s a big decision,” Luis says.
“And if you need time, that’s fine,” You say. “But, I think this will be good for the both of us.”
John B looks between you and your foster parents, who he can tell care about you greatly. Of course he wants that too, but just like you were, he’s nervous.
“Are you sure about this?” He says softly as to not offend the couple in front of him.
“Yes,” You nod. “I’m sure.”
John B inhales a deep breath and nods. “Okay. I’m in.”
#jj maybank#jj x reader#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank x reader#outer banks imagine#john b routledge#obx imagine#routledge!reader
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Taste.
Genre: Smut
Contains: NSFW (minors dni) exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving)
Synopsis: You are in dire need of a hook-up after being swamped with work all week. You opened your Tinder and miraculously matched with Osamu.
Word Count: ~1.9k
A/N: Took me so long to post again because I was swamped with school works. I apologize for another porn without plot eyyy. (check out the master list here !!). -- quokka 😆
You were in dire need of a hook-up after being swamped with work all week. You opened your Tinder and the first profile that popped up was Miya Osamu, the hot owner of Onigiri Miya, whom you had been secretly lusting on ever since you moved into the area a few months ago. You're not quite sure if it was the onigiri or the cook that made you come back to the restaurant every day, but you had been a regular ever since. With the way Osamu flushed every time you gave him flirty remarks whenever you passed by his restaurant (“this tamago onigiri’s really good, it makes me wanna kiss the cook”), you had good reason to believe your feelings were mutual.
The notification on your phone which flashed “It’s A Match!” confirmed your suspicion.
All the times you had secretly peeked on Osamu’s biceps while he prepared your usual order flashed in your mind and you were suddenly charged with a powerful determination to have the man fall apart with pleasure from you tonight.
A ping! from your phone pulled you out of your lustful thoughts.
Osamu had messaged you.
But thirty minutes had already passed and there was still no sign of Osamu. The delicious knot in your stomach when you pictured Osamu in your fantasy earlier was now slowly fading away. You were starting to get conscious of the judging looks of a few passersby. They were probably wondering why you were standing alone in the dark, at 11 o'clock in the evening, in a deserted parking lot across Onigiri Miya. You wished you had a better reason for them other than "coz I’m motherfucking horny” but… eh.
You were starting to think he stood you up when you saw someone entered the parking lot. It was quite dark but you could easily make out Osamu's pretty face underneath the hood of his cap.
"What took you so long?" You greeted from the shadows, making him jump.
"Hm?" He replied while reluctantly making his way towards you.
"I've been waiting for you."
"Really?” Osamu replied with a quizzical look. “You're the new girl from the apartment across, right?"
"Yes. I’m your hook-up for tonight."
He smirked. "Ooh. You’re very direct, I love that."
"I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I moved here," you purred while pulling him towards you through his jacket. “So, you said you wanna do it here in this parking lot?”
"Oh, hell yeah I'd love that," he replied with unexpected enthusiasm. He hurriedly popped a mint into his mouth and let you lead him to a more secluded area.
Once free from the unwelcomed eyes of passersby, he immediately captured your mouth into his while pinning your back on the concrete wall. You pulled his cap off and raked your nails through his hair. His tongue traced your lower lip, asking for entry, which you eagerly granted, and the taste of fresh mint overwhelmed you at once. You passed the candy through each other’s mouths until it finally melted between your tongues.
You grabbed his hand and planted it on your chest, letting him palm your hardened nipples through the cloth of your pullover. He slipped a hand underneath your sweater and heard him hum in satisfaction once he confirmed that you were not wearing anything underneath. You miserably failed to swallow your moans as his fingers played on your already sensitive nipple. You worried someone might hear you but the thrill of getting caught only turned you on even more.
He hitched your sweater up, commanding you to bite its lower hem to allow him easier access to your breasts. He nibbled on one of your nipples while his fingers teased the other. Your teeth tightly clenched on the cloth of your sweater, desperately but miserably failing to muffle your whimpers.
He stood straight once again and planted a trail of wet kisses on your neck. “Try to keep your voice down, puppy,” he murmured while plunging a hand inside your shorts. “Mmm. You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” He taunted upon feeling your drenched panties.
“Oh god – yes, fuck” you cried out as he slipped a hand inside your underwear, his fingers swiftly finding your throbbing clit.
“Not bothering to shut up now, are we?” He panted against your ears, “you really wanna get caught don’t ya?” His fingers became more vigorous against your mound while his mouth continually explored the crevices of your neck.
You clasped a hand over your mouth, successfully stifling your cries. But Osamu suddenly sucked a hickey on your neck and you once again failed to bit back a moan. Your voice echoed into the deserted parking lot. You were worried someone might have heard you but was snuffed out of your thoughts when Osamu suddenly turned you around and pinned your front against the wall. You felt him thrust his hips against yours, his erection rubbing on your ass. He snuck a hand back to your clit while the other rubbed through your bare nipple. “Oh fuck – mmm” you whined before you could even stop yourself.
He planted another hickey on your neck. You bit the flesh of your own hand, successfully preventing a moan from escaping you.
“Good job, puppy,” he whispered before giving your nipple a pinch. The sudden sensation made you send out another moan into the night. He was certainly enjoying seeing you struggle to shut yourself up while he tortured you with pleasure, eager to see just how far you could go.
His strokes on your clit turned more vigorous, turning you into a whimpering mess, not even bothering now to keep your voice down, “fuck, fuck – ah, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop – fuck!” Your knees almost gave out as he finally drove you into a splintering orgasm. You let yourself collapse on the wall in front of you.
You turned around and put your arms around his neck. You let your foreheads lean against each other, your pants misting your lips.
“Now, let’s see how loud you can be,” you purred while stroking his erection through his jeans.
He buried his head on your shoulders, his breath tickling your neck. You fumbled on the button of his pants and massaged his dick through his boxers. He sucked on the thin skin of your neck to muffle his groans. You freed his erection and started stroking him slowly, determined to drive him into an absolute mess. “Shit,” he hissed into your ear, “I wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”
“Mmm, yeah?” You mewled while continuing to stimulate his cock painfully slow.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’ve always wanted to have my cock sucked by those lips,” he panted while rutting his hips into your hand.
Unable to resist his pleas, you kneeled in front of him and gave his head a tentative suck. “Mmngh. Fuck,” he groaned. He leaned a forearm against the wall in front of him while his other hand rested on the back of your head. You put a hand on his base and started exploring his cock with your tongue, eliciting more grunts from him. You slowly took his length into your mouth until the tip reached the back of your throat, making you gag. “Jesus,” he moaned, not even bothering to muffle his voice. He ran his thumb on your lower lip as you took out his entire member, “make me feel good, yeah?” he purred, to which you once again readily obliged.
You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on the parts of his dick that you could fit into your mouth while your hand stroked the parts that couldn’t. He thrust his hips against your mouth, hissing as he felt your fingers brush against his balls. His tiny groans of mmm fuck, so good, made you want to please him even more. You bobbed your head as you took more and more of him, gradually upping the pace that you’re pumping him. “Fuck – yes, there, just like that.” You gently rubbed your fingers again through his balls and felt him ram his dick into your throat, making you forcefully gag.
“Ugh fuck. Sorry. Are you alright?” He asked, trying to look at the reaction on your face but failing to do so because of how dark it was.
You didn’t bother to reply. You ignored the tears that streamed down your cheeks and wrapped your lips around his cock once more. He threw his head back and gave out a loud groan when you started sucking him deeply, his cock occasionally reaching the back of your throat. “Oh god, please I wanna fill your throat with my cum,” he mumbled as he rolled his hips against you, both of his hands tightly grabbing on your hair. Your jaw was starting to ache and more tears threatened to spill from your eyes but a sliver of light illuminated Osamu’s face, and the look of utter ecstasy on it only made you want to let him fuck your mouth even harder.
“I’m close –fuck!” He let out a deep groan as he jolted multiple times into your mouth. Your hands clutched the sides of his thighs, determined to swallow every bit of his cum.
“Fuck. Felt so good, pup,” he panted.
“Hey,” you panted, looking up at him, “me too.”
“What?” He breathed.
“I’ve always wanted to have you cum down my throat, too.”
You and Osamu decided to continue your hook-up in your apartment. As much as you both enjoyed going down on him in public, you both agreed that you could fuck each other more properly in the privacy of your own room.
He let you step out of the dark first since the cap he was wearing got lost while you were both making out earlier. “My brother’s gonna kill me if I lost it,” you heard him mumble while fumbling in the dark.
You were halfway across the parking lot when someone suddenly called you from ahead.
“Hey! I’m so sorry, I’m not usually this late but something urgent happened in the restaurant. I kept on calling you but you weren’t answering your phone.”
A barrage of questions flooded your brain as you watched a second Osamu, his brown hair bouncing, as he jogged towards you.
You quickly looked back and saw another Osamu, emerging from the shadows, twirling a cap around his finger. Only, this Osamu had blond wavy hair.
“Atsumu?! What are you doing here?” Exclaimed the brown-haired Osamu at the blond Osamu.
“What are you doing here?” Atsumu shouted back.
“I’m meeting with her,” Osamu replied while planting himself beside you.
Atsumu’s eyes shifted quickly between you and Osamu, a few seconds passed before realization dawned on him. “Oh god!” He cried out, “I swear, ‘Samu! I had no idea! I thought she just really likes me and uses weird pick-up lines to – ”
“What the fuck did you do, ‘Tsumu?!” Osamu replied, rage building up in his voice.
“Oh my god,” you smacked a hand to your head as realization also finally dawned on you, “I sucked off the wrong twin, didn’t I?”
“Oh no, honey, you didn’t,” Atsumu smirked, “you sucked off the better twin.”
Check out Five Senses Series here.
Requests are open for hcs and drabbles! :D
#haikyuu osamu#osamu x y/n#osamu smut#osamu fic#atsumu x female reader#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x reader#atsumu x you#haikyuu reader insert#haikyuu smut#haikyuu fanfiction
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can you do a hc of the bros and would they help mc feel better. like mc is sad and what would the brothers say and do to make them feel better. idk if this has been done so yeah :)
Lol, let's see if I remember what being sick is like, haven't caught a single cold since the start of the year, and thank fuck for that too-
Also, once again, one more time, third time actually, it's hard to focus things on the MC as I try to make it possible for many to put themselves in the story (I know I have written one on MC liking insects but that was very self indulgent lol)
I will change things up a bit on the request, but if it was with my own MC, she would be fairly practicle, checking up on the brothers, giving them water and asking if they wanted food, even keeping company if not contagious. It will look like she is just being considerate but it actually pains her to see them sick, it's just that she is used to expressing herself in acts of service.
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When Your Seven Demons Get Sick
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Warning: a LOT of uncensored swearing
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Lucifer
We all know this can go two ways: either this piece of shit refuses to acknowledge that he is coughing like a damn nuclear explosion or he responsably takes his work home and refuses to fully rest because he needs to keep and eye on not only his brothers but also on the man child he works under that he somehow has come to fondly call a best friend.
So, yeah, tomato tomato.
His stress is reaching levels higher than celestial realm and he definetelly has been staring at a piece of document for way too long and not making any progress.
You will have to literally german suplex this man into his bed if you want him to get more than 5 seconds of shut eye.
It will take a while for his brain to process that 'oh yeah he can trust you to keep at least 10% of the house intact while he recovers'.
He may be a bit insufferable as he will attempt to work again, but it is a very adorable sight to have him whining, being way too happy at small gestures, and of course, his squishy cheeks as he sleeps soundly.
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Mammon
As long as he is being dramatic about it, you know he will live.
Though he probably won't realize he even is ferverish until someone points it out that his responses are much slower than normal.
Like, it took him one second too long to screech in terror and start running for his life when he spotted Levi's all nighter dying body crawling out of his bedroom!
And oh yes was he delighted to be deprived of his obligation to go to RAD until he got back to his full health.
Until he was not allowed to not do anything but rest for the entire day that is.
Yes he will be restess and willing to do anything just to be allowed to stand on the front porch for five seconds and yes you will end up threatening to tie him to the bed in a non kinky way and yes you will only be half joking.
Just make sure to keep close attention to his levels of drama so that you can spoil him properly when he truly feels bad.
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Leviathan
With him it can also go two ways: either he also doesn't fully realize until someone points it out or he will immediatelly let you a "Oh hell no" the moment he gives out a single cough that feels just a little bit out of the ordinary.
How he will take care of himself, if at all, will depend of the situation.
If there is absolutely nothing to lose from being sick other than the hability to breathe through his nose he would definetelly spent the entire recovering process binge watching slice of life animes while laying confortably on his tub.
If he had plans related to the things he is passionate about though?
I wish you luck because he is definetelly not backing down and will consequently make himself even more sick afterwards.
Although the extremelly satisfied expression we wears even when he can barely laugh without having a coughing fit kind of makes it all worthy in the end.
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Satan
The most chill sick person you will ever encounter and will always make sure to be responsable and nurture himself back to full health.
The catch though?
This big brained idiot definetelly doesn't know how to judge between what is small cold and straight up dying when it's about his own body.
So yes he is the kind of person who will always take some painkillers, drink water, lay on bed and read a book until he falls asleep no matter what the fuck he actually has.
So much for knowledge is power smh.
First off, he deserves to be vibe checked with the thickest medicine book you can find in the cluttered mess he calls a bedroom.
Second off, he is so much more prone to being pissy when he's sick. It's almost funny how fast he goes from :) to >:( in half a second the moment someone who isn't you steps inside his bedroom.
And last but not least, cat videos. No further explanation needed.
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Asmodeus
Oh someone have pity on this poor baby. He took so much care to not get himself sick and has managed to avoid even the worst of pandemies for centuries! So why now?!
He is basically so desperate to recover to the point he actually makes it take longer due to him stressing things out.
And he feels so sticky, he will basically want to take 5 showers per day.
Also his voice is basically gone?? And that just makes him want to s c r e a m ????
Locks himself inside his bedroom and throws a pity party.
Many of his posts on the media are something like "Oh no! I think I got sick? I am feeling a bit under the weather right now so, will you nurse me back to health~? Pretty please~ ❤" while in real life he is pretty much sneezing and coughing at the same time every 5 minutes.
If you bring him consolation sweets he might cry. Both because you're making him happy and because he is definetelly going to have to lose those extra calories later.
As much as he wants to cuddle he doesn't let you too close in case it's contagious and damn if he isn't rocking the pale skin, runny nose and swollen eyes.
He doesn't agree.
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Beelzebub
Big boy is definetelly one of the easiest demons to take care of when sick seeing he will to his most to not feel like a chore to you.
Yes he will lie when he feels unwell so that you don't worry.
And that's when you should vibe check him with a spoon.
Like yes you may be getting out of your way to take care of him but no it's no problem at all because yes you love him a lot and would do anything to see him get better and you know he would to the same if not more for you if switched places.
Happiness is the re ocurring 'aah's as you spoon feed your bed ridden man and watching as he keeps on smiling throughout each bite and eats everything like a good boy.
But you can't tell me he doesn't manage to get drunk on cough syrup though.
He is definetelly not as hungry as usual but damn this cough syrup tastes great.
The results are Beel going on a cursed chain of crypid comments in which he makes sure to whisper them in the strangeat ways you could imagine at the most random times always giving a happy smile once he is done.
He apparently doesn't recall any of it the next day-
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Belphegor
How he reacts to being sick completely depends on who is close enough to hear him whine.
Most of the time, whenever he feels anything out of ordinary, he will immediately text Beel in case this is just one more of their cases of twin-powers.
If he is actually sick though?
He will not stop whining, but then he gives a cute smile when he sees you and even makes a motion closely resembling grabby hands with his fingers as he raises one arm in your direction while saying some shit like "I missed you" when you literally were only gone for exactly 2 minutes to go grab him a cup of water and I think you can understand the power this little of shit has.
Be prepared to roll your eyes so much your eyes will probably start hurting.
The good side though? He is the only brother who listens exactly to what you tell him to do without feeling bad about being a burden. Though it's all because he doesn't wants you to worry about him any further than necessary.
#obey me#obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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1 + 2 from prompt list #5 plz 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 1)
Prompts: “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” + “Can I kiss you?”
Warnings: A little language, Anakin is a bit of a little shit (affectionately), Reader is kinda shy, both of them are idiots but we love that for them <3
Words: 1.6k
A/N: I assume you wanted this with Ani because he’s basically the only person I’ve been writing for lately but, if not, I’m sorry!! Thank you for sending something in! Also this was so fucking fun to write, I loved it so much. I got carried away a little, my brain kinda ran with it so yeah! Also, this is kinda tooth rotting fluff, even for me, so be prepared.
Part 2 (there is now a sequel!)
(gif not mine)
You and Anakin were partnered together for a mission. It was fairly simple, nothing battle related -- purely diplomatic. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you two were even sent on it; it felt like somewhat of a waste for two Padawans to go on a random mission to Naboo. Even so, if it allowed you to spend more time with Anakin, you didn’t mind.
You had this raging crush on him from the moment you saw him. He was gorgeous and confident without being off-puttingly cocky. He was tall, his hair was soft, his eyes were piercing, and his smile and laugh were contagious.
Then, as the two of you grew closer, this crush developed into something deeper. You learned of his heart, his kindness, his selflessness, his desires, his needs, his fears. You were able to see the boy behind the prophecy and you truly, unequivocally, loved him.
“Come on, Y/N, hurry up!” Anakin’s joking tone broke you from your thoughts. You smiled back and ran up to him, playfully hitting his back as you caught up. He took your hand and the two of you continued walking, side by side.
These displays of affection weren’t uncommon between the two of you. Early on, you saw how he enjoyed your touch, always leaning into it when you’d accidentally brush against him or give him a quick hug after a mission. He, too, saw how you reacted when he put his arm around your shoulders or brushed your hair behind your ear.
Since the rest of the Jedi frowned upon connections and, thus, weren’t as forthcoming with affection, the two of you were quickly bonded. You were so attuned with each other that you now just knew when the person was searching for that physical connection. It had become natural, the sort of expected comfort that becomes impossible to live without.
The two of you walked through the gardens by the palace in Naboo, enjoying the sun’s warmth. You’d already talked to the government officials you needed to, attempting to figure out which other planets to get involved in the peace treaties. Thankfully, it went quickly and now you had the rest of the day to spend with Ani before returning home to Coruscant.
He led you to a secluded bench and plopped down, pulling you beside him. He pulled an apple from a tree and offered it to you. You thanked him and accepted it, allowing the crunchy texture and sweet flavor into your mouth. He watched you, grinning at your excitement.
“Okay, I’ve got a question for you,” Anakin said.
Okay. This has got to be good. “Shoot, Skywalker.”
“Who was your first?”
You choked on your apple, sputtering at his audacity! Anakin howled at your reaction, coming up behind you to thump your back a few times until you stopped choking.
“Dumbass!” You yelled, causing Anakin to keel over in another fit of laughs.
“You’re going to alert the entire palace!” He hushed you, gasping in breaths between his laughs.
You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the gut. “Hey! Okay, okay, okay,” He said, holding up his hands in mock surrender before taking a pause. “But, seriously! Who was your first?”
“Anakin! That’s- I- Anakin!” You were so taken aback you couldn’t even form words. You were so caught off guard and, also, quite perplexed. “Ani, we’re not allowed to do, you know, that”
Anakin’s lips curled into a playful smirk at your response. “Maker, Y/N, I know! I meant, like, kissing… Who was your first kiss?”
Your face heated up quickly. You were hoping he’d drop it but apparently not. You didn’t want to admit that you hadn’t exactly had the chance to do that yet. You fiddled with your hands and looked away, embarrassed.
“Wait, have you ever kissed anyone before?”
“No…” You mumbled underneath your breath, still refusing to meet his eyeline.
Now, Anakin’s gaze softened. He never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or judged, he truly thought you had. I mean, look at you! Someone had to have wanted to kiss you before! His hand gently came up to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at him.
His gaze saddened when it met yours, seeing how affected you were by his questions “It’s okay, Y/N! You don’t need to feel ashamed, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“I mean, it’s not like I haven’t had options. I totally could have been kissed by now if I wanted to!” You huffed indignantly, crossing your arms.
Anakin laughed, glad to see some of your fight returning to you. He knew that if you were being defensive and stubborn, you couldn’t be that mad at him. He looked at you for a minute, wondering. He’d been in love with you for as long as he could remember but refused to act on it; he knew how much being a Jedi meant to you and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. Even so, he so badly wanted to come home to you each night, to hold you, to be the one you could turn to with any and everything, to be the person you loved and who loved you, always.
He thought about it for a moment more and decided he might as well try. “Can I kiss you?”
Your eyes widened and you gaped at his question. “You- you want to kiss me?”
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, mentally wondering if this was a good or bad sign. “I, uh, I mean, yeah… You’re really kind and intelligent and, um, super nice to look at… And since you haven’t been I just thought you might wanna…”
“I think you’re super nice to look at too, Ani,” You teased. You were blushing at his words and practically pinching yourself. You’d wanted to hear them for so long, it almost didn’t feel real.
He allowed himself to slightly smile, hope creeping into his expression. “Is that a yes?”
You laughed, smiling too. You nodded, looking into his trusting eyes.
“If you wanna stop, just let me know, okay?” He said, sensing your nerves.
“Okay, Ani”
His fingers grazed over your jaw before guiding it towards him, tilting it slightly. Your eyes closed in anticipation, butterflies ready to burst out of your stomach at any moment. His mouth touched yours and your brain went completely fuzzy. Maker, Kriff, Fuck, Maker!! Is this really happening?
The kiss was so gentle, so sweet. It was just his lips against yours, nothing more. He didn’t want to frighten you by shoving his tongue down your throat on your first try. He just wanted to make you feel wanted and safe.
He pulled apart after a moment and looked at you. “Was that okay?” He laughed as your eyes lit up and you nodded excitedly.
“Can we do that again?” After feeling his lips and being so close to him, you never wanted that sensation to go away.
“Of course, love” Anakin said quietly, pulling you into him once more.
This time, he was a bit more intense, lips moving against yours slowly. You felt yourself get lost in him, in his taste and smell. You went on instinct, allowing your hands to weave into his hair. He hummed as you did so, hands finding their way to your waist and pulling you slightly closer.
He was still extremely careful. As much as he wanted to pour all his passion into this kiss, this moment was about you, not him. He led the kiss, not wanting you to feel like a fish out of water, and smiled into your lips. When you smiled back, Anakin swore his entire body warmed. He was so glad you agreed to do this with him, to allow him to be the person to share this moment with.
When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and cupped your cheeks. You looked at him shyly and he brushed his thumbs against your cheekbones.
“You were really good at that, are you sure you’ve never done that before?” He joked.
You pushed his shoulder back bashfully. “Shut up, Ani!”
“I’m serious,” He laughed, “You were really good!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, baby. You’re amazing.”
You looked at him for a beat. “So,” You said, dragging out the word, “What do we do now?”
“Well, the ship leaves for Coruscant in thirty minutes so…”
“Anakin Skywalker, you know what I mean!”
He chuckled. “Okay, fine! I mean, if you want, of course, we could be together?”
“Like, together together?”
“Only if you want!”
“Do you want?”
Anakin nodded.
“I, uh, I’d really like that, too, Ani”
He broke out into this big goofy grin and you followed suit. That damn, contagious smile. You knew there would be a million complications. The chances of it working out were practically unfathomable. The Council would kill you both if they found out, you’d never make rank! But you looked into his eyes and thought you could beat the odds.
Young love had a way of making you feel invincible. He was all you ever wanted. It was as if nothing could ever affect you if you were together. The Council wouldn’t find out, you’d be that one in a million couple, you’d grow old together and be happy and peaceful. It was the most unsure thing you’d ever done and, yet, nothing felt more certain.
As this realization swarmed round your head, you dove back in, connecting your lips once more. The garden around you faded and the weight of this new secret-relationship disappeared. It was just you and Anakin. Nothing would ever tear you apart.
----
I just made a taglist so if you wanna join... (dm me if you wanna be taken off!)
permanent tags:
@saltybreaddream
anakin tags:
@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles
#anon#megan writes#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagines#anakin skywalker x y/n#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader#anakin skywalker x gn!reader#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin x reader#anakin imagines#anakin x y/n#anakin x you#anakin x gender neutral reader#anakin x gn!reader
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Euphoria S2.E6 Liveblog
🍬🍬 Spoilers below 🍬🍬
Here we go um I have nothing to say my weekend has been a lot but here I am.
Rue and her mom just has to sit there and watch her work through it all.
Hospitals care regardless of if you are a good person or a bad one. Rue feels a lot like this currently.
She is going through it and its gonna be a long while before its over. Addicts aren't
Oh Gia that probably is so painful to watch this person who hurts you but loves you and you love them in unbearable pain.
Ali actually gives a fuck about you Rue, so you gonna have to boss up and apologize.
You're not who you are in addiction but you have to be accountable for the trauma and pain you caused in it. You're responsible for the fuck ups but they don't define you if you are actively trying to get better.
I love this Malcolm X shirt and I've seen it before but it's expensive as all hell. And now the way that finding it is about to be so much harder, hopefully they remake/reissue the shirt.
Apologies are hard but it needs to be done kiddo. He doesn't always know you mean it but no matter what he trusts that you do and he's open to listen. He is NOT the only one who deserves an apology though.
True euphoria is the true apology and the feeling after, thats a good title card.
Gia looks so grown up sitting on the couch but she is completely shut down and shut off. Wow Ali is breaking through to her thankfully. Someone is finally paying attention to Gia, FINA FUCKING LY. Her mom and everyone else needs to pay attention because i know Gia has a story. Hopefully we get to hear her side of things or just what is going on in her life in season 3. Anger might not help but you also need to feel something rather than swallow it all down. Gia your shield cracked a bit but thats good.
Nate deadass has like 100 messages and his family is finally free of Cal fucking Jacobs.
Oh damnnnnn Maddy is pissed. He loves Maddy's loyalty and how good she is by him.
Kat is a mood because she saw it coming from a mile away but its not great that she slut shamed or assumed things about Cassie without knowing her. She hated when people did it to her but she is 17 and I know some 17 year olds who say they don't judge anyone but surely do.
Ms. Katherine I need to get off your phone also Ethan woah back the hell up. Break up with him...girl you are not lying just to get out of a relationship with him. Kat you have an entire year left in school how are you going to lie about a brain disease for. This is shitty and it is gaslighting because she doesn't want to be the bad guy. She already doesn't like herself so being the bad guy in this breakup makes her feel even worse. There are insecure girls who do this because they want things to change but don't know how to say that. It's fucked up because hurt people hurt people but also because he gave her a chance to just say "I don't want to be with you."
Couldn't pay me to deal with teenage communication issues. Now I've got my mid twenties communication issues which are a bit easier with the tools I didn't have at that age.
What the fuck are they doing with these knives....oh her mom doesn't want Cassie to hurt herself.
Fezco this is terrible advice, y'all are adorable and maybe you should watch the movie together but this is terrible advice.
Cassie? Really Marsha you like Cassie that seems racist. Nate you should listen to your mom. Wait so everyone knows Nate has anger issues and didn't get him any fucking help? You're literally getting angry at your mom now so I don't think your anger is directed just to your dad.
Also drinking with your child and not having a limit, huh? Your child is a child even if he is 18, he isn't a drinking buddy or a surrogate for the love you fail to recieve from your husband.
Suze is telling the truth right here, you broke girl code Cassie.
Keep it just to spite you? Is that a confession not even based in guilt but just a confession about what she did to Cal? Um your son abused Maddy and you think its funny cause he protected you and she called you a bad name? Marsha you are twisted, just as twisted as Cal.
Here he is getting angry again and he's drinking and he did choke her.
Cassie? A cork screw? Really?
You knew he was a piece of shit and he bullied you and then he put his wee wee in you and you thought "he's my dream guy now". Girl.
Both of your parents are god awful Nate. Therapy was an option and nobody thought yea we should all go to therapy? And Marsha instead of putting her foot down and getting her boys some help she knows she raised a menace. AND STILL WON'T DO ANYTHING TO HELP HIM (because he'll always take care of his mom).
Nate is breaking down hmm there's more there and his mom is trying to unravel it all. I'm pretty sure it was the tapes but there's alluding that Cal hurt his son? But even if he didn't physically Nate saw his dad with people who weren't his mom and he was absolutely rotted and disgusted by his father. It's instilled a deep hatred that makes him angry at the world and himself and instead of pin pointing that anger at anyone else besides his dad he won't take accountability. "My anger was justified" thats why I put my hands on everyone instead of communicating without violence. Nah Nate that's just a violent unchecked ego. Guys like him admire the Joker and tell on themselves.
Nate IS a bad person, you're not about to throw Rue under the fucking bus Cassie. Your dad is just like her and you see him as reddemable bit not at all Rue. Her dad died and she turned to opioids because she's mentally ill, you bitch. And then to say that shit to your sister, really?
Cal said I've been fucking adults and messed up once, but y'all are not about to find these damn tapes. Also Nate you really want that business? Cause you absolutely do not.
Rue said fuck y'all lol, but also I wanna know what happens to Jules especially if she isn't around for season 3. Good on her for staying away from Elliot. Elliot as a character could have been written and introduced much better with more substance. I'm really trying to hold my critiques until the end but I have to say this. We are seeing these people through Rue's eyes but we also need to see them as completely rounded characters.
Maddy in the same dress she took off that woman. She wishes she had this woman's life but she doesn't see their life when she's not babysitting. My friend informed me that it was a camera in the clock and that is terrifying. Is this woman and her man watching Maddy try on stuff in the closet. Women predators do exist (Laurie sure out here exploiting people and children as well.)
Minka is the OG teen drama queen, Alexa is the next iteration. Oh wow Sam was the Cassie in the situation oof. Thank god some adult is a voice of reason and explains that being a young adult is messy as hell and part of it is craving love from any and everyone. But also can we stop giving underage kids alcohol especially when they have to drive home after, thats extremely inappropriate and dangerous to do.
(I just wanted one genuine good adult in another characters life besides Rue and Jules.)
Fezco and Lexi are so cute, I'm glad they watched the movie together.
Faye is being shifty as fuck.....ugh Custer. ASHTRAY CHECK THE DAMN CAMERAS. Chester Custer dumb mother clucker is a fucking idiot. These two are about to get my favs fucking shot by the cops or prison time. Now this is a rat not anyone else, this is a rat:
Nate is a fucking menace like bro just in the corner with a fucking gun, I'm laughing my ass off because of how horror movie boyfriend his ass is. I know that gun probably isn't even loaded and he knows she's as afraid of him as she is in love, so he's gonna use fear against her.
She gave it to Jules? Oh fuck it was loaded but he's unloading it and now taunting her. Nate is an entire abusive sociopath he is literally traumatizing her for a damn disk to protect a company? And if she is pregnant then she really could ruin your entire life still by keeping that unfortunate mistake.
Abort it.
Maddy never accepted that man's call, texts, etc. and he's on her like the damn Alien on Ripley ew, at least Rue has drugs clouding her judgement to make her an abusive partner unfortunately. He has trauma sure but he also sees nothing wrong about abusing her or anyone else. Evil ass. The Mary J and Meth is very well placed here.
Jules you better grab the box cutter from that promo. Apologize? And he's still using abuser tactics to coerce Jules into listening to him. What type of piece of shit? Oh he's doing it because he likes her and for a second thought she would be into him because of it? Get awayyyyy.
Great. Good to know, rmfe you fucking ruined her life and made it even harder for her to know what real love is like.
And he's gonna hop skip his ass back into Cassie's pants and she's completely alone so now he can just manipulate her like crazy. What makes me so mad about this is Cassie saw Maddy go through all of his abuse and thinks its gonna be different for her.
They gonna fuck and daydream about some fantasy life. And he likes that she fights back and hates him and is entirely reliant on him. How do people even think Nates hot like he looks so fucking evil right now, this is abuse.
I think Jules is gonna run away again and possibly for good. Which i hate but I know she hasn't taken down any memories of Rue in her room, its only been a few days/a week though.
Your sister is gone Lexi and it hurts but that doesn't mean you should say anything.
Yes that was rock bottom but you may hit new lows you never thought, even when sober post 20s. 🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️🤷🏽♀️
No Leslie let Gia get it out. She needs to let all of it out. They severely need to talk talk and Gia needs focus on her.
No one knows but Rue can try, she has one week until she goes back to rehab to make some amends. She is going to come back to a complete shit storm though when she's back. Ahem.
Yea Rue you need to talk to your sister. IF Rue comes back, but she would be leaving with a fucking mess for everyone but her to take care of.
You're in a bind momma Leslie, this is how this goes unfortunately realistically. Too many times and they won't let her into the facility, or there just aren't enough rooms so she's gonna need to thug it out without a program and find programs and help that isn't drugs at home.😪🙃
Episode thoughts: Thats life ain't it also can someone punt Nate through a wall. He's got trauma sure but he doesn't even use that or see that as an excuse for his actions. He wants a pissing match with everyone in his life so he can "be an alpha" who doesn't get help. Not shocked if he ends up like a worse dad than his dad because he'll actually believe he isn't fucking up his kids.
Preview thoughts: Yea from the promo and this episode with stand by me, whew. Also I told y'all this play is going to be an invasion of privacy and Nate is about to be exposed as a bad person to everyone hopefully, but so is everyone else's faults. I feel terrible for Gia if she is in that auditorium everyone knows Rue is an addict but no one knows about how Rue had an intervention part 2 and Gia will have to see her trauma on stage. Also if Fez told Jules business with Cal to Lexi. That is going to fuck up Nates life which shrug he kind of got a taste of that when everyone saw him as an abuser. But that would absolutely ruin Jules' and in that situation with Nate and his dad she just got caught in the middle and used as a pawn. Maddy hopefully doesn't have too much exposed because its not like no one knows he did hurt her but that could trigger her from his lil gun show. Sigh that play even if its well received from the audience its still wrong because those are not her stories to tell.
Until next time y'all. 🎇
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so i am desperately in love with early seasons ian and mickey (i don’t know what it is i think i just love mickey being a total grump it’s just so cute) but i was hoping you could write something a little angsty a little fluffy that happens around that time? you can go crazy with the details obvs
i really love your writing 💕🙌🏻
Mickey wondered what in the hell made him so drawn to Ian that he was sitting on the hot pavement, watching the weird ginger run through the obstacle course, and was being forced to listen to... Fungus problems?
What was Gallagher saying about boxers instead of briefs?
"Lip told me to do it, basically," Ian said as he ran through the tires they swiped from the junkyard, beads of sweat running down his red face. "It helps! They basically air the boys out better."
Mickey bit his lip in frustration. Why in the fuck was he sitting here and listening to Ian's fungus problems? Why in the fuck was he sitting here watching him, in general?
He tried to force himself to get up. To say fuck you to Ian Gallagher and just leave him and his balls to do ROTC shit on their own.
But he couldn't do it.
Not when Gallagher was...smiling like that. Like he was so genuinely happy he was talking about fucking fungus with him.
Mickey adjusted himself so he didn't get sunburnt on the wall just as Ian said, "It's good to have someone to talk about this shit with. You know, besides Lip."
Mickey watched him as he looked away briefly, as if he was embarrassed about what he was going to say next. Mickey rolled his eyes, too hot to not feel slightly annoyed by the ginger's odd mood.
"Spit it out, Gallagher."
Because Mickey couldn't watch him being so fucking shy. So fucking pretty. So perfect. So amazing to fall in fucking love with.
No.
No, no, no.
Mickey was about to get up and leave just for that thought alone, when Ian finally sputtered out, cheeks red and face discolored, "It's like I have a best friend, okay? It feels nice."
Mickey watched as Ian looked away, as if he had just said the most embarrassing thing in the world. Mickey himself had stopped short, the breath catching in his throat, making him stifle a cough.
His first instinct was to push out through gritted teeth, I'm not your best fucking friend, but he held back.
Instead, he said,
"Mandy?"
Ian rolled his eyes, pushing down onto his hands and knees to do push-ups. His breaths were ragged as he spoke—he looked like he was trying to push away the tension by not maintaining eye contact.
Mickey scoffed to himself as he listened to Ian—as if he would gaze deep into Ian's eyes himself.
"Like I can talk about fungus with Mandy." Ian said, and when Mickey chanced a glance at him, his cheeks were as red as his hair.
Mickey should've found it disgusting. Appalling.
Appealing, more like it.
Mickey had never seen a man like Ian Gallagher.
He pushed those thoughts deep inside.
Clearing his throat, he asked, "Mandy isn't your best friend then?"
That was when Ian stood up, the army shirt he was wearing crinkled from the crawling he called a workout. His beautiful—no, not beautiful—green eyes zeroed in on Mickey's.
He then repeated, like a dumbass, "I can't talk to Mandy about fungus."
Then he turned around and continued on as if the words meant anything more than a terrible misuse of his mouth.
Mickey balked at his no-longer interested demeanor for a second before huffing. He should get up and walk away now. Go shoot some shit on his own.
He didn't need to be here with Ian Gallagher.
You can't talk about fungus with me, it's disgusting and I don't like you, Mickey thought bitterly.
He kept his mouth shut, though, just like he kept his tongue between his teeth when he tried to tell Ian they weren't, under any fucking circumstances, best friends.
Because something was fucking stopping him from denying it all.
He didn't want to stop the redhead from sharing every single fucking detail of his life with Mickey—his family, his ROTC, his fucking fungus issue—because if Mickey were being completely honest, those small details about Ian's life, and the Gallagher life in general—they made him sleep better at night.
They tuned out the nightmares of Terry and his beatings, his mom and those dreams he sometimes had of her familiar pale complexion, Mandy and her problems, big or small. Literally everything shitty in between.
Ian Gallagher made it so that all that was swirling in Mickey's brain past midnight was Ian, Ian, Ian—and sadly—Ian's fungus problems.
At least now Mickey knew that boxers aired the boys out better.
He really didn't ever need to know that.
But he let Ian think of Mickey as his best friend, and he let a slight sense of pride wash over him over that slight fact.
Somebody considered him his best friend. Somebody to talk to. Somebody to share his secrets with.
Somebody enjoyed his company and his thoughts and his ramblings and his hard words and crude demeanor.
Somebody considered him their best friend.
Ian Gallagher, above all.
Amazing, perfect, army-ready Ian Gallagher.
Not like Mickey ever considered that an option in his entire fucking life.
Ian Gallagher—the boy who should really be getting on Mickey's last nerve.
And yet.
And yet, whenever Mickey thought about how he should just be dead in some ditch somewhere, his mind went to Ian. Whenever he though he was fucked for life, should just let Terry kill him, he thought of goddamn Ian.
Ian, who he saw every single day. Ian, who he worked with. Ian, who greeted him every single morning with a wide smile. Ian, who never judged him for his dirty clothing. Ian, who eye-fucked him all the fucking time. Ian, who told his stupid fucking jokes.
Ian, who made Mickey's heart fucking thud against his ribcage, a pounding so loud it sounded all through his torso, reverberating all through his head, a dull chanting of him, him, him—Ian, Ian, Ian—that coresponded with it.
So as Mickey watched Ian running and jumping, sweating like a fucking pig under the blazing summer sun, he decided that, yes.
He could be Ian Gallagher's best friend.
Mickey knew Ian was already his.
Because for all of Mickey's pushing away, Ian never seemed to disappear.
He found Mickey enough, and it was good for Mickey to know that there was somebody in this world—a boy, nonetheless—that found him worthy of something.
Mickey knew that Ian Gallagher would probably be the death of him, because he'd never had anything like that. Never had anybody who cared. Not like Ian.
But, you know what? Fuck it.
If it was Ian Gallagher?
Well, he was completely fucking okay with that.
#gallavich#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian and mickey#shameless#shameless us#fanfic#ian x mickey#drabble#ficlet#gallavich ficlet#s3#anon my beloved#ask and answered#emina answers#SORRY FOR THE WAIT#this was in my inbox for a while#hope this is okay ☺️#also thank you for the sweet comment!!
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