#i do like the guy but hes a fuckin handful
i'm surprised how unsurprised i am that wilbur, local perfectionist, fear of failure, lied in his letters to fuckin philza "angel of death, worldbuilder" m//necraft
admitting to failure at that time? man was already struggling with that concept, and writing to phil that yes, we failed, i got ousted from my own nation, i'm running a rebellion right now because i got exiled from my country would've probably like... made it more real in a way that he was barely handling as is
[head in hands] okay guys what other gifted burn-out kids traits do we want to pick out in c!wilbur?
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Fuckboy!Bucky fucking you while on the phone with his buddies. “What am I doing? Well I’m doing something pretty sweet right now.” He shoves his fingers in your mouth and smirks. “Be there in 10 guys, save me a spot. Save me two spot actually.”
bucky having you face down ass up in his bed and he gets a phone call and you’re like oh there’s no way he’s gonna take it but he does.
and he doesn’t stop for one fucking second either, hips working steadily still.
“‘m fuckin’ my girl what’s it sound like?” he barks out, metal hand placed between your shoulder blades to keep you pinned to his bed.
“be there in 20, yeah. save me a sp—actually, save me two,” before hanging up and folding his body against yours “‘cause ‘m nowhere near done with you, baby.” 😵💫
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6. “Please don’t kill him.” “Nah, I just wanna talk.” - Coco Cruz
Summary: Your ex Coco thinks that your new guy isn’t treating you right, but things aren’t always as they seem.
Pairing: Coco Cruz x female reader
Warnings: Implication of abuse but its not, I promise, it’s a plot twist.
Word count: 772
A/N: When I tell y’all I loved writing this, I mean it 😂
“What are you doing here?”
You blinked as you looked at Coco, not having expected to see the sniper on your doorstep. Sure, you had heard the bike, but you had figured it was EZ or Angel, maybe even Taza being a sweetheart and stopping by for coffee and a chat like he had done last month. The last Mayan you had expected to see was your ex-boyfriend Coco. You hadn’t seen him in nearly four months now, and you weren’t able to hide the shock nor the nostalgic sadness from your face. Coco didn’t seem to mind though, thinly veiled rage in his eyes as he gently pushed his way past you and into your house as if he still lived there.
He ignored your incredulous exclamation and closed the door behind him, looking around your home.
“Is he here?”
To say you were confused would have been an understatement.
“Is who here??”
“That motherfucker you were at the store with yesterday. The one Angel saw yank your arm when you were taking too long at the deli.”
You shook your head in disbelief, hands pushing against the Mayans chest as you kept trying to scope out your home.
“Coco, slow down. What-what are you even talking about?”
He stopped for a moment and slowly looked down at your hands as they laid on his chest, his shoulders losing some of their tension at the touch he had missed. You looked down as well and then pulled them away, not missing the wince on Coco’s part. His eyes landed back on yours and he explained tightly.
“Angel was at the store yesterday, same time as you. Said he saw you there with some guy, and that he was rushing you to leave. When you took too long, Angel said he saw him pull you away all rough and shit. Said he was gonna fuck him up right there but decided he would let me do it.”
Coco held his arms out to the side then.
“So I’m here. I don’t give a fuck if you’re my ex; no ones gonna put their hands on you like that. I know we both agreed to split but promised I wouldn’t ever let anyone hurt you and I meant that shit. I’ll fuckin’ kill him. So where’s he at?”
In the time it took to explain it, Coco’s anger had resurfaced, and he was trying to go further into your house now, on a mission to find the man who thought he could get aggressive with you. Your hands were back on his chest once more, holding him back. Just like the first time, it stopped him in his tracks, and it embarrassed him how the simple touch made his heart hurt.
Looking back at you, he found you looking just as confused until the lightbulb went off.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I haven’t been with anyone since we split up. At the store? The guy Angel saw me with? That was my cousin.”
Coco’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you shook your head, already having figured out the oldest Reyes brother’s plan now.
“Angel has met my cousin. He knows what he looks like. He’s seen him plenty of times before. He just…must’ve told you that to get you to come here.”
Coco could feel his cheeks starting to heat up then and he looked down at the floor, that anger from before now switching toward Angel in his mind.
“So…so you’re ok? No one’s being mean to you or anything?”
You chuckled softly and shook your head, body relaxed now.
“I’m fine. No one’s being mean to me. My cousin was just hangry and wanted to get lunch but there were still like 6 people in front of me at the deli, so he wanted to go. That’s it. No one’s doing anything to me. I promise.”
Coco nodded and then let his own shoulders relax. Ex or not, he was always going to look out for you, and that was something you appreciated. Looking over at the clock, you saw it was nearly dinner time and motioned into the kitchen with your thumb, extending the offer.
“You…wanna stay and eat with me?”
Coco nodded, the first ghost of a smile coming to his lips.
“Yeah. I’ll stay. I’ll stop by Angel’s place after.”
You laughed and shook your head, knowing his best friend was in for it after pulling this move.
“Please don’t kill him.”
Coco shook his head and pursed his lips the way he always did when he was lying.
“Nah, I just wanna talk.”
General taglist (Gets tagged in basically everything that is a reader insert)
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla
Mayans MC taglist (Tagged in all Mayans MC content only)
@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @veracruz-djarin @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben
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I can imagine Joseph trying to strike up a conversation with the Deputy, but being ignored every time. Even after Joseph uncuffs them, they refuse to say a single word and goes out of their way to avoid him. Joseph eventually gets desperate for human interaction and sometimes just follows the Deputy around the bunker, commenting on anything and everything. And then, one day, he just stands in front of them, staring deeply into their eyes and asks them, “Do you need an Ark?” And then before the Deputy can react, he places a hand on their shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, I Noah guy.”
The Deputy is on the floor in tears.
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Pale (Burn This) x Reader
4.7k ; It’s NSFW y’all
“What the fuck,” Pale growls out as he slams the front door to the apartment behind the two of yous, “Was that?”
He’s not happy, hadn’t been happy ever since you left the club. He feels like his blood’s boiling, feels like he wants to punch something, wants to beat the shit out of someone. But he didn’t want to cause a fuckin’ scene in front of you and he hoped that by the time he got you back home he’d’ve cooled down a little, but after four cigarettes on the drive over with his hand wedged between your thighs, he’s still pissed.
“What was what, honey?” You ask, stepping out of your shoes.
That sends a red hot flash of irritation through him and he sucks on his teeth as he makes his way into the kitchen and rummages around for the little glass container of coke he keeps on hand for times just like this. You come over to him as he’s setting up his mirror and credit card, cuts through the fine white powder, and you drape your body over his back lovingly.
“No no no.” He shakes his head with a dark little laugh, “Here’s what we ain’t doing tonight, we ain’t pretending like you weren’t flirting with that fuckin’ guy at the club – pushin’ your tits out and shit like that. I ain’t stupid, you were flirting.”
This makes you laugh, and Pale scowls a little at that, scowls because he don’t think that’s too fuckin’ funny.
“Pale, I thanked him for holding the door open for me, that’s all.” You would never tell him this, but you love when he’s jealous like this – you love it. It meant you were in for the night of your life, if you played your cards right.
“And what the fuck was he doin’ holding the door open, huh?” Pale asks, because he knows guys, guys that go to clubs like the one Pale took you to, he knows they ain’t ever just nice dudes wantin’ to do their random deed of the day. “I turn around to pay and when I look back at my fuckin’ girl she’s battin’ her eyelashes at some schmuck in sunglasses even though it’s ten o’clock at night, un-be-fuckin’-lievable.”
He bends over and snorts up a long line of cocaine, straight up his nose from a straw made of a dirty rolled up dollar-bill, and when he’s turning back around to face you he catches you leaving the kitchen, catches you unzipping the dress he bought you, and he doesn’t know if it’s the drugs hitting his system or the way he wants to be close to you all the time, but he’s itching to get you back near him.
“Come here.” You say with a bright light sweetness to your voice on your way to the bedroom, and he’s already flying high, already desperate for you.
“You ain’t the fuckin’ boss of me sweetheart.” He says, even though he follows you anyway, immediately plasters himself to your back and grabs you around the waist and picks you up.
“Oh yeah? Then who is?” You laugh and laugh and laugh at bein’ manhandled, and Pale’s heart is pounding in his ears and his dick is so hard at the way your dress slides off your body from the jostling.
“I don’t got one, I’m a self-made man.” He tosses you onto the bed and watches as the mattress bounces, already licking his lips as he shucks off his own clothes. “Built my fuckin’ self up with these hands.”
“Those hands?” You ask as you watch him unbuttoning his nice silk shirt, as you arrange yourself on the bed, totally naked. You hadn’t worn anything underneath the dress, no bra no panties – nothing.
It drove Pale wild.
“Damn straight.” He chokes out, yanks his belt open with shaking hands.
God he feels out of this world, feels over the moon, with the coke running through his system. He’s going to fuck you, he’s going to get his cock up into you in any and every way he can, and he’s going to drag out the prettiest sounds from you. The thought of it is enough to already have him sweating.
You see him struggling with the belt and you take mercy on him, crawl to the foot of the bed where he’s standing and expertly pull it out of the loops of his pleated trousers.
“Why don’t you put those hands to work then?” You ask, heat behind your eyes as you grasp his sweating palms and guide them to your tits.
Your tits, perfect in his hands, the perfect size and shape for him to touch and squeeze. He admires them for a while, rolls and pinches your nipples between his calloused fingers, loves the way that has you biting at you lip and sighing.
His brain whirrs, vision going blurry, when your hands push his further down your body.
“Yeah? You want me to play with this pretty pussy?” He asks, already walking forward, climbing onto the bed, pushing you over so you fall onto your back as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart. “That it, you just lookin’ to get me riled up so I’d fuck you into next week – that it?”
“Uh huh.” You nod, playing along. He knows, somewhere in the back of his head behind the rush of the cocaine, he knows you’re tellin’ him the fuckin’ truth, you weren’t flirting. But it’s more fun like this, more fun when he gets to punish you. So you play along and bat your lashes at him for real when you say, “I didn’t mean to put you into a bad mood.”
“You didn’t sweetheart, you didn’t.” He mumbles, immediately attaches his mouth to your neck, immediately begins sucking and worrying your throat against his tongue. “You’re my girl, that’s all. I don’t want any fucking creeps thinking they can get away with thinking about you. I don’t want them thinkin’ they can have this.”
He can’t hold back from touching you anymore, and without ceremony he shoves two big fingers up into your cunt. He shoves them in dry, because he knows he ain’t gonna need nothing, no spit or nothing, to get them slicked up.
You keen for him right away, your hips pressing up and nipples hardening impossibly against his chest where he’s got his body pressed against yours.
“Pale!” You gasp, not expecting two fingers to start, your hands flying into his hair, grasping at his back.
“God I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” He groans under your chin when he fingers you, when he’s fast and rough with his hand against your pussy, coaxing out come that he had left behind. “You feel that? That’s my come from before we left, isn’t it? Feel how wet you are for me?”
It’s slipping and sliding out of you now, old come that he had kept plugged up into you by virtue of making you sit on his hand all night at dinner in the dark hazy club where the comedian was tellin’ jokes he wasn’t listening to. His come from hours ago finally getting the chance to escape from the deep parts of your pussy, spilling all over his fingers.
He fucks it back into you, he’s going to fuck more into you.
“You like being stuffed full, you dirty fuckin’ whore. I should keep you filled up with my come all the time. Jerk off during the day and blow my load into you right when I come home, use it as lube to fuck you with so I can come in you again. Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight to see. Surprised it ain’t slide down your thighs while we were at dinner – or did it? Did you make a mess of the chair at the club?” He can’t keep his mouth shut as he speeds himself up, wanting you nice and stretched.
He had a surprise for you, something he ain’t done with you before, but he’s drunk on the idea of it and he needs you pliant and loose for him to do it, so three fingers squelch in and out of your pussy as he drools onto your tits.
“I don’t – Pale, yes! – I don’t know.” Your back is arched up off the mattress for him, hips trying to press his fingers to that perfect little spot inside your cunt that makes you see stars. He knows where it is, he’ll go hunting for it later, but right now he’s too obsessed with the feeling of his old come and your fresh slick mixing.
“So hot, fuck honey your cunt’s so hot, burnin’ up for me.” He says, looking up at you only to see your chin pinched, big eyes pleading. “Quit pouting at me like that I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t I always?”
“Yes, yes Pale, please I want you now.” You whine, you desperate needy thing, and Pale bites your jaw hard, kisses you real nice and long and deep.
“Yeah I bet you do.” He says against your lips, where he can feel you trembling and can see tears starting to collect in your eyes. You want more friction, delicious and hard and rough, and his ego swells as big as his cock when he says, “Go ahead and cry for it sweetheart, lemme see those tears, show me how bad you want me.”
“Please!” You do, you let those big fat tears of lust slip down your cheeks, and he brings his other hand up to shove in your mouth as he licks up the salty tracks that disappear back into your hair on the pillow.
“You’re so pretty.” He’s out of it, head fuzzy and obsessed with you, just looking at you makes him rub his cock against your folds, slides it through them, not able to hold back on giving in to his own desire for contact on his dick. “You know that? You know how pretty you are? I’d fuck you every second of every day if I could get away with it, you fit so good around me. Jesus it’s like you were made just for me, me and my big fucking dick. I’d fuck you and kiss you all day, all fuckin’ day, come in you so much you’ll hear it sloshing around in your pretty pussy.”
“I – I’m – ” You’re moaning moaning moaning against his fingers where they’re too big in your mouth, where they keep making you almost gag, and he finally relents, finally can’t hold back any more.
In one harsh thrust he’s buried into you all the way, all the way to the hilt where his balls are pressed up against you. He’s too amped up, too hyped up, can feel the coke singing through his veins as he fucks you hard, skin slapping on skin.
He’s punching out moans from you as you sob, as your chest hiccups and you shake rattle roll your eyes back from the pleasure. He can feel your toes curling against his calves, and he’s sweating up a fucking storm already, already just from the feeling of your pussy around him.
It’s squeezing him tight, fluttering and throbbing around him, and he knows that means you’re getting close, especially with the way you’re moaning loud for him.
“Come if you want, it’s okay, it’s okay honey.” He rambles as he fucks you, takes his hand out of your mouth to grab your jaw with it, spits onto your tongue and watches mesmerized as you swallow it down with a gasp. “I ain’t done with you yet, not by a longshot, but you can come, let me feel it I want you to, come on my cock and thank me for it.”
Your eyes shut tight and your body goes taught and rigid for a few moments as he slows his hips down, thrusts into you, fucks you through your orgasm. Your whole body is shaking and he doesn’t know if his is too, or if his vision is just blurry.
“Thank you, thank you Pale, thank you.” Your chest heaves, and he smacks the flesh of your side hard, hard enough to watch your tits ripple from the force of it.
Now that you’ve come for the first time of the evening, a lot of your tension sighs away. You drop your hips and go pliant, and he loves when you’re like this because he can get deeper deeper deeper, impossibly deeper into you with ease.
“You’re so good like this,” He just has to tell you, he’s on fire, feels like he’ll combust if he doesn’t tell you, “Fuck I’m all the way up in your throat ain’t I? You know what don’t answer that, you just keep comin’ sweetheart. I can feel it on my cock, feel how you’re squeezin’ me tight, don’t worry I won’t stop I ain’t even close to stopping.”
You’re slack jawed, eyes shut still as you revel in your own pleasure, and it fills Pale with a rush of pride to know he did that to you, he made you feel that good. He’s gonna be following soon, that’s the one fucking downside of the coke, it makes him blow his load too quick. But he’s got a good bounce-back, he’ll be hard again in no time, ready to come in you again and again and again – all night long if he wants.
Right now he wants you even more relaxed, so without stopping, without pulling out of your pussy, he grabs your hips in his big hands and starts to turn you over.
You whine at being moved, but you get the hint and help him, your body bouncing up up up the bed from the force of his hips as they keep plowing into you.
“On your stomach, c’mon be good for me.” He orders, and you listen, you always listen, even when all you want is to just lay there and feel good, you move yourself the way he wants so he can feel good too. “That’s it, oh fuck, yeah.” He props your hips up with his hand, holds your pussy and feels the way his cock bulges your lower stomach out as it slides in deeper.
When he grinds his cock up against you, he can feel his head knocking against your cervix, and you gasp out sharply with a, “Pale!”
“You like that?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re okay, even fucked up like this, even with his blood rushing in his ears, roaring in his brain, pounding against his skull the same way he’s pounding into you, punching moans out of your throat, he wants to make sure he ain’t doin’ anything you don’t want.
“Yes! Yes, I do – offfuck – ” You’re sobbing again, crying because he’s found that spot inside you and is shoving his cock against it in short thrusts, fast little things that have you trying to push yourself back against him, finding nowhere to go.
“I got a surprise for you when I’m done, when I’m finished with you, a little toy.” He growls as he dips his hand lower, circles your clit in a way that has you coming again, shouting on his cock and his fingers, whole body shaking and sweating. “I don’t normally really fuckin’ deal with shit like this but I saw it and thought of you, wanted to try somethin’ new. And since you had to go and be such a horny fucking brat today, I figured it’d be good for you.”
He growls the words out but he can’t deny he’s excited, he can’t deny he’s dreamt about doing this to you, getting you boneless like the way he’s planning on doing.
You still have some of your brain left in you despite your second orgasm, and though your face is muffled into the pillow and you’re crying through the pleasure, you can still talk.
“I can’t help it I love your dick so much Pale,” You moan as you rock your hips back against him to milk your orgasm, pussy drooling all over his cock, all over the sheets making them sticky sticky sticky, only proving your point when you still won’t stop, “I want it all the time.”
“I know sweetheart I know – you’re gonna fuckin’ get it. You’ll get it, believe me.” He presses a hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you down against the mattress, making you lay in your own mess, “But it’s gonna be so good to watch you sob on this thing the way you do on my cock, I’m gonna get you blacked out from pleasure between me and this thing.”
The promise has you shuddering, has your body twisting and arching under his heavy hand, and he can feel the pit of heat in his stomach build build build, growing tighter and tighter. He’s going to come soon but even that won’t mean a reprieve for you, not with what he’s planning.
“I’m addicted to this pussy, you know that? Who gives a shit about coke when I got this sweet cunt, these perfect fuckin’ lips. They’re so sweet, so juicy, so hot on my cock.” He says it like he’s mad about it, like he’s mad at you – but he ain’t, not really, not ever.
Even when he saw that scumbag lookin’ you up and down, imagining your tits and your pretty pussy underneath that short dress, he wasn’t mad at you.
“Fuck!” He shouts then, shouts because he’s coming, his hips slamming against your ass once, twice, three times, before he stills against you.
He’s pretty sure if he died, this is what Heaven would feel like; your cunt wrapped around his pulsing cock as he coats your insides with more of his come. His eyes roll back into his head and he chases the feeling for as long as he can, vision whiting out as you’re good to him, so fucking good to him, in the way you still clench around him, in the way you circle your hips so even though he ain’t moving, he’s still getting that delicious friction.
He’s nearly boneless, he could nearly fucking cry from how good coming feels when he’s coming in you – but he’s not done yet. He wants one more out of the both of yous before taking a break, before grabbing a drink of water and some tissues and resting so you can do it all again.
He wants one more, and without pulling out of you, he reaches across the mattress to the bedside table, pulls out a brand spankin’ new vibrator. It’s pink, and doesn’t look like very much, but the woman at the store said she had one of her own and it’s made her scream, so Pale trusts it to do its job.
“I’m gonna pull out and plug you up with this thing, okay?” He pants out, voice raw, throat sore from how dry it is, all his spit in your mouth, on your back.
“’Kay,” You reply with a nod, pulling your knees up under you so he doesn’t have to hold your body up.
With his free hands, he groans as he watches his dick slide out of you, seemingly unending, and all the come in the world pouring out with it.
But before it can all drip onto the sheets, which are a fucking mess of sweat and spit and come and slick, he slides the vibrator into you, positioning it correctly so it’s little appendage fits right over your clit nice and snugly. It’s easy with you bein’ so damn stretched, so pliant and warm. You hum out a little pleased sigh, and your hips and thighs flex to accommodate the harder material. It’s thin, not even the thickness of one of his fingers, not nearly as long as Pale’s cock – otherwise he wouldn’t have bought the fuckin’ thing, he’s a firm believer in his cock bein’ what fills you right – and though it’s made of silicone it has a different feel inside your body.
He can feel his high crashing, starting to come down. The sweat is cold on the back of his neck, and he’s got the makings of a killer fucking headache because he’s so dehydrated. But he holds his breath and watches with wide eyes when he reaches into your pussy and finds the little button on the side of the vibrator.
Right away, he knows this was a good purchase, because right away you’re losing your fucking mind.
He quickly realizes he’s a fucking idiot, and realizes you’re going to suffocate into the pillows, so he quickly flips you onto your back and kneels between your open legs as you completely and totally fucking lose it.
You don’t even make any sound, that’s how intense it’s gotta be. Your entire body is shuddering as your eyes roll back into your head, back arching so much Pale’s worried you’re going to fall over, fall off the fucking bed. He’s entranced with the way it looks, how every now and again you will have a full body convulsion from the pleasure, how your mouth drops open but there’s nothing coming out, fully speechless.
He leaves you like that for ten seconds to go get a cigarette and calm the nerves in his body from the crash of his high, needing the nicotine to soothe him and help him get brought back to earth. He lights up and sucks in deep breaths, and when he looks back at you, you’re sobbing.
Pale holds the cigarette in his hand as he sits down on the edge of the bed, bends over your body and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. He knows the fuckin’ toy’s right on your gspot and right on your clit, and his hot tongue on your nipple is what makes you break, what makes you hyperventilate and shout for him.
The sounds of your gasps and moans travel through him straight to his dick, and he finds he’s rock hard again in a matter of minutes. He smooths one of his hands down your stomach, rubs slow caring circles that are in total opposition from the mind-breaking vibrations that shock through you.
“Shit I’m hard again.” He tells you, leaving one hand comforting on your stomach and taking his cock into his other, giving himself a few long strokes as he asks, “Can you hear me? Or are you too fucked?”
“I can – ah! – I can hear you – oh Pale!” Your voice high high high as you gasp and choke out the words, and Pale would be jealous if he didn’t make you feel like this on his own anyway. But he does, and he makes you feel better, and he’s going to make you feel better soon, even though you’re demanding him now with, “Pale please, pleasepleaseplease.”
“Beg a little louder honey, this thing’s noisy.” He plays with you, smokes his Barclay and breathes out the smoke into the air, turning the bedroom cloudy hazy lazy as your eyes roll back back back, as your toes curl, as you’re nearly foaming at the mouth.
“Please!” You shout, shout so loud he’s sure the neighbors are going to hear, and he gets a sick satisfaction from that, from the way you want him. “I need, fuck I need – ”
“I’m right here, right here.” He pets your hair back but that isn’t what you want and he fucking knows it.
“Fuck me?” You ask, you plead, sobbing from the pleasure that wracks through you.
“No sweetheart this thing’s fuckin’ you for now, just for a little while, just ‘til I finish my cigarette.” He tells you calmly, his bad mood gone, his headache gone. Nothin’ matters except for you, nothin’ matters in his brain or his heart or his dick except for you feeling good, you coming. He wonders how many times you’ve come from the force of this thing just buzzing into you. “You’re doin’ so good takin’ it though, when you ain’t chokin’ from it.”
He gets dizzy suddenly, from the lack of blood in his head, all of it going to his dick which he had almost forgot about, big and thick in his hand. He strokes himself off, hard and fast, watching you convulse and shudder and shake, listening to you cry out his name.
“Look what you’re doing to me, making me so fucking hard again, my balls are aching for you and I just fuckin’ came in you. I’m gonna come in you again, okay? You want that honey? Want me to stuff you full of my load like I said I would?” He stubs out his cigarette and grasps one of your ankles, pulls you down the bed in a way that has you shouting again because you’re not expecting it, the thing moving inside you.
“Yes! Pale come in me, come in me I need you, I need your cock – I need – ” You’re eager, so eager but he grabs your jaw with one hand and jerks off with the other, bringing himself right to the edge.
“I ain’t turnin’ this thing off.” He warns you, “You’re gonna take us both, you think you can do that?”
And that makes you get a grip on your eyes at least, because you’re lookin’ at him, clear as day, as your body trembles all the way up to your face.
“I’ll try, just please come in me.” You beg, reaching for him with arms that feel both like lead and jello at the same time, pleasure weak and heavy, “I want it so bad.”
“You’re so good honey, here I come.” He kisses you, kisses you even though your mouth doesn’t want to cooperate, as he takes his hand away from your jaw to hold the toy steady. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, doesn’t want it to move too deep or bang against your walls or nothing, so he holds it still as he nudges the head of his cock inside your pussy along with the toy. “Fuck it’s really vibratin’ hard huh? Is it right there, right on the spot?”
He can feel it, just how crazy the power of the toy is, and is sparks up his own spine as he pushes his dick in slowly slowly slowly, the double penetration making you go limp again, making you lose the ability to speak.
“One squeeze if you’re okay, two if you want me to make it stop.” He says seriously, taking a hold of your hand.
“Don’t you fucking dare stop!” You bark out as you give him one tight squeeze.
He would laugh about that, if he were capable of laughing, if he could manage it, but the vibrator even has him feeling out of his mind, so instead he teases you with an, “Oh she speaks does she.”
Neither of you last very long after that, after he’s somehow, somehow managed to fit himself in your cunt along with the toy. He’s coming again and he knows you have to be coming again, knows you have to be coming over and over, because you’re so fucking wet around him.
He’s almost blind with it, when he comes, almost blacks out himself, until he hears your soft voice calling his name.
“Turn it off?” You ask, and he does, does immediately, the buzzing coming to a halt.
“Shit yeah, yeah sweetheart it’s okay.” He kisses your face soothingly, making sure you’re taking even breaths. Your eyes are closed and you’re a fucking mess, a fucking dirty disaster, and he’s never been more fond of you, never felt more for you inside his chest than he does now. “You did so good, took that like a fuckin’ champ you did. How do you feel?”
“Like I’m on cloud nine.” You give him a dreamy smile, eyes glassy glassy glassy when you hum out and “I love you.”
“I bet you do – ouch!” He chuckles when you smack his back playfully, “Alright alright, I love you too doll.”
And the two of you laugh together when you take one look at him, when you shake your head incredulously as he pulls the toy out of your very well loved body, how such a tiny thing could have so much power.
“I gotta say,” You start, voice raw and thick, and he kisses you for all he’s worth, grateful you indulged him in this when you agree, “That’s some fuckin’ surprise.”
Taggin some Pale Pals :) <33 @fullofbees @dreamboatdriver @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem @fallin-for-youreyes @attorneyl @jedihbic @bens-rose @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @hippieface @tinyplanet-explorers @satansstrawberry @riseofkylo @whiskey-bumblebee @helloimindelaware @mandowhoreian @ah-callie @proxyfoxy @hidingp @goodboybensolo @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @insanita @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @ktellmeastory
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Ben praising you IN. HIS. ACCENT. Where the hell do I sign up? Like you just taking him in and making him feel good..
please oh my god u guys are ruining me shsjdijJHSJFHJSHDGJ
ok but what if you were like riding him for the first time and he’s just telling you how well you’re doing, how good you’re making him feel??
“that’s it, love, fuck, taking my cock beautifully,” his mouth would be parted in awe as he watches you bounce on top of him, his hands on your hips to help you pace yourself.
“oh, shit! just like that, babe!”
“you’re so wet for me, yeah? feel so fuckin’ good around me.”
his palms would slide up your back as he kisses you, and you slow down a bit, grinding your hips down onto him.
“fuck, baby, you’re beautiful. takin’ care of me so well.”
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Ian likes hearing Mickey call him ‘my husband.’
Whether it be introducing Ian to people, talking about him, whatever it is, Ian can’t get enough of it.
Ian meets up with Mickey at Franny’s school, Debbie having asked them for help with school pick up this week when he sees Mickey talking to a man at the pick up zone.
“…So I told the guy, if you wanna fuckin’ st—”
He rests his hand on Mickey’s lower back and the smaller man immediately turns to see who’s touching him. The second he realises it’s Ian his face breaks out in a bright smile and he leans up to press a sweet kiss to Ian’s lips.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Lip distracted me.”
“All good. Lil red isn’t even out yet.”
Mickey turns back to the guy he was talking to. He shrugs his head to Ian, “This is my husband, Ian,” he says, Ian feels this swell in his belly and rubs his hand soothingly where it still rests on Mickey’s lower back, “Ian this is Reggie, used to help me and my brothers rough up soma’ tha’ crack heads when they owned us.”
Ian smiles and holds a hand out and Reggie grabs it firmly “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet the man that managed to put a ring on Mickey Milkovich.” Reggie says with a chuckle.
“Ha ha very funny.” Mickey says before there’s a small child barrelling into the side of his legs.
“Uncle Mickey!” Franny yells as she clings to his jeans and looks up with bright eyes.
“Baby Red! Ready to go, kiddo?” Mickey asks, patting a hand over her hair.
Franny nods enthusiastically and starts walking forward, grabbing at her Uncle Ian’s hand and tugging him towards the car. He lets himself be pulled as Mickey says his goodbyes.
Mickey turns back to Reggie and nods his head at him, “Nice seeing ya, man.”
“You too, take care of that husband.”
Mickey flips him the bird but smiles as he does and makes his way over to Ian who already has Franny buckled in the back seat.
Ian turns around once he closes the door and grabs at Mickey hips, pulling him forward and smiling down at him. “You heard him, gotta take care of your husband.”
Mickey snorts, “Chh, take care of my husband plenty.”
Leaning down Ian presses a kiss to Mickey’s cheek. “Hmm, I suppose so.”
There’s a banging at the car window and they both peer down to see Franny looking at them impatiently. They can’t hear what she says but it looks an awful lot like ‘Hurry the fuck up.’
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Author’s Note: Hard Ten Masterlist, Wishverse Masterlist
Summary: Dean has his doubts, Charlie dashes them. Y/n tells Dean some more about the other timeline.
Pairing(s): Dean X Plus size!Reader
Word Count: 3715
Warnings: mentions of assault, mentions of prostitution, mentions of past sexual assault, little bit of angst
Dean stood in the hallway outside y/n's room. He hadn't been back in since he left to retrieve the doctor. His mind was in overdrive. He couldn't really believe her, could he? Yes, she had a habit of knowing things she had no business knowing, like that time she insisted he take a long detour because it was going to be the quicker way home and lo and behold, there was a wreck on the interstate that would've caught them in traffic for hours. And she knew that Bobby's wife was Ellen and she ran the Sex Kittens. And how she acted about Sam, how she seemed to get along with him so well for short bursts until she remembered who she was talking to. He was toying with the idea that she had some low-grade ESP, which was fun, but time travel?
A flash of red hair flying at him down the corridor pulled him from his thoughts and he stepped in front of the door to block Charlie. “Tell me she’s not crazy.”
“You’ve known her almost a decade. Tell me she’s not some delusional schizophrenic or somethin’.”
Charlie sighed, softly, and stepped away from the door. “She told you?”
“Yeah, wish fulfillment in the form of time travel. It’s fuckin’ nuts. She’s fuckin’ nuts.”
“Look, I had trouble with it, too, at first. But I think even if she hadn’t predicted every upset of the Midterms and the jump in Roman stock prices, I think I would’ve believed her eventually, because I have known her for nine years, Dean, and she came back from the future broken.” Dean bit his lip as Charlie looked around and lowered her voice. “When I handed my laptop to her, she was this… happy, mostly-confident chick whose only real Achilles’ Heel was her stupid fuckin’ family. When I walked out of my room, not ten minutes later, she had PTSS and a haunted look in her eye like the guy in the mailroom at the Holy Roman Empire. I don’t know how much she told you, dude, but when she described what he did to her… I still wanna turn him into Lord Varys, even though I know this Sam didn’t do it.”
“She just said he got high and hurt her… but I can read between.”
“What you’re imagining isn’t half the reality. It can’t be.”
“I know what Sam’s like when he’s high, sweetheart. I made the mistake of letting him forget he almost choked me to death, but I’ve never forgotten.”
“Fine, then you can see how amazing it is that she’s got a healthy sex life with you after that. She has nightmares, she’s twitchy and glitchy. She’s seeing a shrink, going to support group therapy, but she’s not crazy. It happened, okay?”
Dean took a deep breath. “She’s in love with my brother.”
“No. Not after all that-”
“She stayed for six fuckin’ months after he raped her. No way that kinda love just disappears because he cheated. Grand scheme, cheating’s much less of a big deal.” Dean ran his hand through his hair. “I bet… if she hadn’t wished herself away, if he’d apologized, she’d’ve taken him back.”
“She’s been all about you and saving Adam since she got back, Dean. He hasn’t even been a happy thought. She’s been focused on you.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was focused on me when they were bonding over Hogwarts Houses and he was ogling her across the table and-”
“Dude!” Charlie reached up and lightly slapped his cheek. “She has screaming nightmares about him. She was super offended when he suggested a three-way the night she got stabbed. She’s got it bad for you, Dean. She said something like… you make her feel safe and happy and that she was in love with you for a long time before Sam just completely fucked her over… she just couldn’t act on it because she thought Sam might go off the rails if she did, which… everything she told me about that relationship, he might’ve gone to some crack house just to spite her if-”
“That’s my brother you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Dean practically growled.
“Yeah, your brother from another timeline who she doesn’t love, anymore. Seriously.” Charlie rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly. “She’s in love with you. You make her feel safe and happy. That’s all that should matter, especially with her in this frakkin’ hospital.”
Dean stepped back, nodding. His jealousy could take a backseat until she was okay. “Yeah. All right.”
Charlie pushed off from the wall and whipped into room. Y/n's eyes lit up as her two favorite people walked in and Dean couldn't help but wonder how she managed to look so radiant even in a hospital bed. “See? This is what happens when you mess with the timeline, bitch. You end up in a coma instead of the kid.”
“It was a medically-induced, two week long nap compared to the vegetative state Adam would've been in.”
Charlie kissed her temple and climbed into bed with her. “Doesn't matter. Promise me you're never gonna do this shit again. Seeing you all hooked up to machines, a tube down your throat… I knew they were gonna wake you up, but sometimes people don't wake up and… I already spend my Christmas in a hospice.”
Y/n leaned her head against the smaller woman’s shoulder as Dean sat in the chair next to the bed. “I'm sorry, Char. I really didn't intend to end up in a coma. Still can't believe that bitch stabbed me.”
“Six times. That bitch stabbed you six times,” Dean reminded. “Doctor said half of your liver looked like ground beef.”
“Lovely imagery.” Y/n chuckled and winced at the pain it caused her.
“Carol said the same thing, but she said it with a look on her face like she was smelling dog shit,” Charlie said.
Y/n grimaced. “Carol was here?”
“Briefly,” Dean answered. “Just long enough to berate me for my family drama causing you to get attacked by, and I'm quoting, ‘some tiny feral druggie whore’.”
“Your parents are still in town… staying at our apartment.”
“What?!” Y/n straightened, hissed in pain, bit her lip and took a deep breath.
Charlie patted y/n's knee. “Don't worry. I went through your room when they said they were gonna be crashing at our place. I hid your toys in my room, put a better password on your laptop and cleaned your dirty laundry. They shouldn't have anything to mess with you on.”
“You are the best best friend.”
“What kinda toys?” Dean asked, eyebrows raising suggestively.
“Exactly the kind you're thinking of, Winchester. You got a problem with it?”
Dean shook his head, smirking slightly. “No problem. ‘Cept now I got this video playin’ in my head of you… like a cam girl video.”
Y/n scoffed, her smirk lighting up her eyes. “No one records me, D. Once that shit’s on the internet, it’s forever.”
“Can confirm. There’s this terrible paparazzi pic of Carrie Fisher that I take down every time I see it, but I always find it again a few months later,” Charlie said.
“Hey, no one said it had to go on the internet. Maybe you can be a cam girl just for me,” Dean winked and y/n shook her head.
“Yeah, I’ve got too much damage to put on a show for anybody right now, but thanks.”
“Maybe when you get out of the hospital, huh?”
“Any ideas on when that's gonna be?” Charlie asked.
“Dr. Stephens said he wants to keep me a few days for observation.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’d be so shiny if I could just go home.”
“Shiny? Is that a nerdism or did the coma fuck up your head?” Dean asked.
“Firefly,” y/n and Charlie said at the same time.
“It means, like, ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’. It would be so awesome to just go home,” y/n said.
“I can’t wait for you to get back home, either. That way, I can kick your parents out of our gorram apartment,” Charlie said, wrapping her arm around y/n’s shoulder.
“Now you’re just makin’ shit up,” Dean said, leaning back in the chair and kicking his feet up on the end of the bed.
“Nope. Joss Whedon made that shit up,” y/n responded.
“No, man, she’s fine. I’m takin’ her home today.” Dean’s voice filtered through the heavy door into the hospital room. You were pretending to sleep since Sam showed up, eyes open just enough to see their shadows on the window.
“You guys don’t want any help? I mean, she can’t be very mobile,” Sam asked, looking through the window at you.
“I got it,” Dean snapped.
“What’s your problem, Dean? I’m just trying to help.”
“We don’t need your help.”
“Seriously, what did I do? Is this about the three way thing, because I’m not planning to-” Sam sighed heavily. “She made herself clear that she’s not interested. I just want to help. I mean, she pulled Adam out of Ruby’s house. Things could have been so bad and she-”
“Yeah, I know, Sam!” Dean exclaimed. “I know exactly how bad things coulda gone… and I understand that we, as a family, are very grateful to y/n for what she did, but I do not need your help with her right now. What I need is for you to give us some space. Okay?”
There was silence for several minutes and you opened your eyes. “Okay. Yeah, okay. Let me know when you wanna tell me what the hell I did to deserve this attitude.”
Dean’s face as Sam disappeared from your view said he knew Sam didn’t deserve the attitude. There was guilt in his eyes over it, but he just shook his head and walked into your room. “Hey, princess. You ready to get the hell outta here?”
“Can’t wait.” You bit your lip. “You should be nicer to him. He didn’t do anything.”
Dean shook his head. “He didn’t do anything because you picked me this time, but…” He sat on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. “When you picked him… when you loved him… he-”
“Stop. Dean, just… please don’t overthink this. Let’s just focus on now. Now I am about to get out of the hospital and I’m gonna get to go home and everything’s gonna be okay.”
Dean kissed your knuckles. “I know. I know everything’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ll deal with it eventually, princess.” He smirked, an idea crossing his mind. “Did I call you ‘princess’ in the other timeline?”
You nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That’s why I couldn’t keep myself from kissing you the first time you said it, here. Because I know you call your clients ‘sweetheart’, but ‘princess’ is special.”
“It’s so weird that you have all these memories of me that I'm never gonna share.” He shook his head. “Did you sign your discharge papers?”
“Yeah. The registrar said the nurse is gonna be around with my aftercare instructions in a few. Then, I can finally get out of here.”
“So, tell me some stories of the other timeline while we wait, huh? Like, I was your Chevy-head friend that taught you about cars, right? How’d that happen?”
You chuckled. “My clutch started slipping.” Dean’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah, really. I took it to the shop at the Ford dealership and they gave me a loaner, which was this huge F250 that I was so uncomfortable in that I was just gonna eat the cost of taxis or a rental of something smaller. You never liked the thought of me in an Uber. Oh, especially if I’m not sober, you never let me take an Uber.”
“Bad things happen to drunk chicks in Ubers.”
“That’s what you said at Bobby and Ellen’s Christmas party. It’s why you insisted on driving me home.”
“Why wasn't Sam driving you home?”
“I was escaping. That was the night I met Adam and got my first look at the Rubies, I was surrounded by gorgeous, sexual women and I just wanted to go home. Between Bobby’s eggnog and Meg’s whiskey, I was super drunk by the time my cab showed, so you took me home, instead.” You smiled at the memory of him helping you to your door. “I kissed you. I was drunk and lost in your eyes and I kissed you.”
“And felt guilty about it when you got sober, right?”
You nodded. “It was the only time I kissed you before the wish. I chalked it up to the alcohol, but once you and I started spending all our time together…”
“You realized you loved me?” He smiled softly as he asked it.
You nodded. “Around the end of March, I had this dream. I remember it because it was the first dream I’d had since New Years that didn’t end up a nightmare, and it was just you and me laid out on the hood of your car staring at the night sky. It wasn’t anything sexual, I wasn’t in a mental space for that, but… it made me feel like things were okay, like things could be okay again.” You smiled and scooted forward, wrapping your arms around him. “Didn’t take long for me to realize that the only time I didn’t feel like I was drowning was when I was with you.”
Dean chuckled, wrapping an arm lightly around your waist. “You’re supposed to be telling me about teaching you cars.”
“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want me in Ubers, so you volunteered to drive me around until my car got fixed. One morning, you started in on a tangent about how your car was so much better than mine and I asked you to justify your argument. You listed a dozen reasons why the Impala was better and I… I didn’t understand most of what you said, so I asked you to teach me. Ended up covered in grease in your garage more times than I can count.”
“Oh, you were very sexy. First overtly sexual thoughts I had in 2019 were because you were all sweaty and sexy bent over the engine telling me about the differences in the 327 and the 502 and all I could think about was how great your ass looked in those jeans. You had to explain it, like, three times because I kept fantasizing about you bending me over the hood.”
He shook you with a chuckle. “We haven’t done that one, yet. When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll have to get sweaty and greasy together.”
“Is it weird that I kinda want to say ‘fuck me’ anyway, even though I know it’ll mess me up?”
“If I were a little less worried about internal bleeding, I’d do it. Haven’t worked since you been in the hospital so I am full of pent-up energy.”
You turned your head to look up at him. “You haven’t seen a client in almost three weeks?”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. He leaned away slightly and looked down at you. “My girl was in the hospital. I couldn’t go fuck those other women knowing you were here.” You leaned up and captured his lips, twisting on the bed and getting up on your knees to better the angle. He moaned into your mouth, hands grasping at the blanket to keep from grabbing you. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth and nibbled, lightly. He pulled back, shaking his head. “Baby, you can’t do this. You know I can’t control myself when it comes to you and I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You flopped backward, pouting. “Fine.”
“Don’t pout.” He rolled his eyes and stood. He adjusted his jeans, pulling on the legs. “Grown woman pouting about not gettin’ dicked,” he muttered.
“I am not pouting about that. I just wanted to help you with your pent-up energy and you didn’t want me to, that’s all.”
“Oh, don’t flip this on me, woman. You’ve got six extra holes in your middle and half a functional liver. Just ‘cause you’re horny, that doesn’t mean I gotta give in and do something that might hurt you, okay?” Dean leaned over you, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Maybe we could do something that wouldn’t-”
“Uh-huh, sure. Tell me something that wouldn’t make your muscles tense up, that wouldn’t hurt you… and it would hurt, y/n, because you don’t even have any meds in your system.” He sat back down on the bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “‘Cause they’re opiates?”
You shrugged. You didn’t think he’d noticed you requested to be taken off the morphine and wouldn’t let them put you on anything even slightly addictive. “Opioids got me into this mess… all of my mess.”
Dean sighed, heavily. “What Sam did, that wasn’t your mess.”
“I don’t agree. It sure made a mess of me.”
Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but the door opened and a short brunette nurse walked in. You tensed, fighting back a groan of pain as it sent a jolt through you, looking away from Eileen’s smiling face. “You are all set. Here’s how you take care of your wounds and here is your prescriptions.”
“Thank you,” you said, signing it, still not looking at her face as you took the papers from her hands.
Dean put a hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “Can she go now?”
Eileen nodded. “If you have any problems, call the doctor. The number is on the top sheet. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Dean said, grabbing your elbow and helping you off of the bed. “Gotta question Sam’s judgment, fuckin’ around on you with her.”
You shrugged, pulling your jacket on as Eileen disappeared from the room. “You told me that Sam makes really bad decisions, sometimes. But she seems okay and she’s pretty.”
“She’s all right, but I dunno. Any chick that would sleep with a guy when she knows he’s got a woman at home… kinda low.”
“It’s not a big deal. It didn’t happen,” you said quietly.
“It happened for you.” He wrapped his arm around you and walked you out of the room.
You gasped, adrenaline coursing through you as you walked into your living room and a half a dozen people shouted at you. Charlie stood in the corner, looking a bit exasperated. The surprise was obviously not her idea, since she knew that surprises were not the best idea for someone with your mental condition. Your mother and father, Carol and TJ, and your associates Sherry and Deedee were more enthusiastic. “Oh, my god! You guys! This is…” You tried to sound appreciative, but Dean could hear the falseness and placed a hand on your lower back to show his support.
“Well, we couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment, could we?” your mom asked, walking forward to hug you.
“What am I, tauntaun druk?” Charlie groaned.
“No one knows what that means,” Carol spat at her.
“I know what it means,” you defended, pulling away from your mom.
“And anyone with basic common sense could figure it out based on context clues,” Dean backed Charlie up, wrapping his arms around you to keep everyone else from being able to embrace you. “But I forgot who was speaking.”
“Charming, Dean.” Carol sneered as she spoke. “Explain to me why you’re here when your trash family put her in the hospital.”
“Whoa.” You pulled away from Dean, glaring at your sister. “First off, I ended up in the hospital because I rushed into a bad situation without considering all of the possible consequences. No one put me in the hospital except me and Ruby Wilkes. And if you’re going to talk shit about Dean’s family, you can fuckin’ leave, because they’re good people. They’re smart, passionate, loving people and, of course you’d think that’s trashy because you don’t know what class is.”
“What Kool-aid did they force down your throat, huh?” Carol stepped closer. “What about these junkie assholes instills such loyalty from you? He can’t be that good in bed.”
Your instinct to cower from a confrontation was overridden by your need to deal with Carol. “First, you’re wrong about that. He’s amazing in bed. Better than I’ve ever had and better than you’ve ever had, either. Second, there is only one junkie in that family and he wasn’t in that house when I got stabbed. Third, the Kool-aid they served me was called ‘Love and fuckin’ respect’ which I haven’t gotten in a long fuckin’ time. And fourth, get the hell out of my apartment. All of you. I’m tired and in pain and I don’t wanna have a party tonight, so leave.”
Everyone looked taken aback by your outburst, but you ignored it as you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Deedee, Sherry, I’ll see you at 7am Monday. Don’t be late!”
“You’re going back to work, already?” Dean asked as you pulled him along the hallway and Charlie shoo’ed everyone away.
“Yeah. I can’t sit around just doing nothing. It’s not… it’s not in me,” you said, pushing open your door and lying down on your bed, carefully, slowly, making sure not to jostle yourself too much.
“Princess… you okay?”
“I couldn’t have them talking about you and your family like that… Carol is…”
“Yeah, I know, baby, but… you kinda exploded.” Dean knelt on the bed next to you and you looked over at him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I just… can we just lie down and get some rest?”
“Yeah. Yeah, baby, let's get some rest.” Dean dropped to your bed, kicking off his boots and slipping under your blanket. You snuggled into his side and waited for sleep to claim you.
Your dreams pulled you back to the months that never happened, to the night of the party, to the night everything came to a head and your world crashed around you. “Don’t you wish- Don’t you wish- Don’t you wish-”
You gasped as your eyes snapped open. “It was Anya!”
KITCHEN SINK TAGS
GAGA FOR GREEN EYES TAGS
HARD TEN/WISHVERSE TAGS
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Whoop this is a v short happy thing that I wrote to make up for the many times that I’ve hurt Lance and traumatized you guys over the past few weeks. I know this doesn’t make up for it but lol it’s partly your guys’ faults because you’re the ones sending me the prompts lmao. Anyway, here’s Shance sword training.
(Side note there’s a lot more sexual tension in this than I intended)
No trigger warnings.
“Hey, Shiro” Lance stood awkwardly in the doorway to Shiro’s room. He looked like he was getting ready for bed. Shiro looked up from his place on the floor, where he was doing pushups.
“Yeah?” he asked, grunting as he stood up. Lance pulled his eyes away from the flexing muscles in Shiro’s arms.
“Uh,” he shook his head, trying to remember why he was there. “N- Never mind. You look busy” he said, turning to leave.
“I’m not busy” Shiro said before Lance could leave the room. “You need something?” Lance leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms nonchalantly.
“It’s just…” he scratched the back of his neck. “My bayard is a sword now and I… I don’t really know how to fight with it. I mean I never learned how to use a sword. I just thought maybe you could teach me or something.” Shiro shifted his weight and pursed his lips. “It’s cool if you can’t” he added. Shiro cocked his head at Lance and smiled.
“Of course I’ll help you” he said. “Do you want to start now?” Lance dropped his arms.
“Yeah, I mean, if you’re not going to bed” Shiro laughed as he grabbed his water bottle off of his dresser.
“Believe me, I wasn’t going to get any sleep. Why do you think I was doing pushups?” The edges of Lance’s lips quirked up.
“I thought that’s what buff dudes did every night?” Shiro laughed in surprise as the two began walking down the hallway.
“Buff… dudes?” he asked.
“Yeah, you know, big dudes. Muscular guy. Jocks. Like Thor. Just, fuckin ripped” he punched Shiro lightly on the shoulder. He winced at shook his hand in pain. “Fuck! What, are you made of rocks? Jesus!” Shiro let out a startled laugh.
“No?” he said. Lance opened his mouth to explain that it was a joke, but then shook his head. They walked in silence for a while before Shiro nudged Lance’s shoulder with his own. “More like Captain America, I think” A grin stretched across Lance’s face.
“More like Bucky” he said, gesturing to Shiro’s arm. Shiro laughed loudly, gripping his chest. Lance couldn’t help but laugh too. Shiro’s laugh was contagious.
“Will you two shut it!” Pidge called, suddenly appearing in the doorway in front of them. “It’s two in the fucking morning!”
“Oh, shit” Shiro said quietly, so only Lance could hear. “Sorry, Pidge!” Lance snorted. He’d never heard Shiro curse before. Pidge glared at the two before stomping back into her room. “I guess we should try and be quieter” Lance giggled as they quietly walked the rest of the way to the training room.
A few minutes later they were both standing in the eerily silent training room. Lance was standing in the middle of the floor with one of the training swords, and Shiro was stood off to the side. “This place is creepy at night” Lance said, squinting because of the harsh light.
“You know we have no way of knowing when it’s night time” Shiro reminded him. “Allura rigged the lights in the castle to resemble the sun on Earth so that our bodies didn’t freak out”
“Is that the scientific term?” Lance asked playfully.
“Yes” Shiro said deadpanned. Lance wouldn’t have known he was joking if he hadn’t cracked a smile after he said it. Lance grinned.
“You’re funny” he pointed out. “Why don’t you make jokes more often?” Shiro chuckled.
“Would you have respected me as much if I joked around with you when we first got here?” he asked.
“Yes! Actually, I probably would’ve respected you more” Shiro raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Oh, wait really?” Shiro shook his head. “Never mind. We need to get started or we’ll never get to bed” Lance straightened up.
“Okay, now obviously this sword is not quite as heavy as your bayard, but it’s a good practice sword. I don’t want you to get hurt” Lance nodded, examining the dull blade on the sword. He would be offended, if he hadn’t been worried about getting hurt himself. “Alright, show me what you can do” Shiro instructed. Lance cracked his neck and then planted his feet firmly on the ground and swung the sword. Lance turned to see Shiro’s reaction and saw that he was pressing his lips together, obviously trying to suppress a laugh.
“Stop laughing at me!” Lance said in irritation. Shiro cleared his throat and waved at Lance.
“I’m- I’m sorry try that again” Shiro said, barely keeping his voice steady. Lance scowled at him but did what he said. He pulled back his arms and swung the sword through the air. Shiro actually did laugh at that. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “One- One more time”
“Shiro, what am I doing wrong?” Lance asked in dismay.
“Try arcing your swing. And your stance is- well- you don’t have to move your legs that far apart. You’re going to fall over” Lance glared at him. “Hey, you said you wanted my help” he shrugged. “But I can leave if you don’t want to listen”
“Wait, no, I’m sorry. Please stay” Lance pleaded, dropping his arm. “Clearly I’m worse at this than I thought”
“Just, try again” Shiro told him. “You have to keep trying” Lance swung the sword exactly like he had before.
“Like that?” Lance asked, swinging his arms down. Shiro grinned crookedly.
“Kind of” he said, stepped toward Lance. “Here, let me show you” he stood behind Lance and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, guiding his hands into the right positions. “Bring your arms back like this” he pulled Lance’s arms with his own. “And then… swing!” Lance’s cheeks burned as he felt Shiro move against him.
“…Lance?” Lance blushed and looked over his shoulder at Shiro, their faces were so close they were practically touching.
“Did that feel good?” Shiro asked him. Lance blinked in shock.
“Wh- what?” he breathed.
“Your swing? Did that feel better than the way you were doing it?” Lance’s shoulders dropped, whether it was in relief or disappointment Lance wasn’t sure.
“O- Oh. Uh, y- yeah” he stuttered, his cheeks burning. “Much better” Lance barely held back his sigh when Shiro pulled away from him, motioning for Lance to try on his own. Lance readjusted his grip, like Shiro had shown him, and swung the sword.
“Good job!” Shiro cheered. Lance grinned triumphantly.
“Yeah! I mean, you still need some practice, but you’re already improving!” Lance bounced excitedly under Shiro’s praise.
“H- here, let me try again!” Lance steadied himself and then swung the sword.
He practiced like this for a while, Shiro occasionally coming over and adjusting Lance’s stance or grip. He continued to crack jokes with Lance as he practiced. Despite the fact that Lance was training, he was actually having a really good time.
“Great, I think you have the swing down” he said. “Now try doing it while moving forward” Lance stepped forward as he did.
“Exactly! Wow you got that really fast, I think you’re ready to train with the robot” Lance smiled shyly, lowering the sword.
“You think so?” Shiro smiled at him broadly.
“I do! You’re a natural at this! Looks like our sharpshooter can add another specialty to his list” Lance beamed proudly at that.
Shiro drug out the training robot after he assured Lance that he was ready for it. After a few tries on the easy mode, Shiro bumped it up to hard. Lance struggled with it at first, but after a while he managed to beat it.
Lance lunged forward, striking the robot with the sword, knocking it over. Lance stared at the robot, stunned. He hadn’t actually thought that would work. Shiro cheered in excitement and rushed to Lance’s side. Lance froze, his breath caught in his throat as Shiro wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “That was amazing!”
“Th- Thanks” Lance said breathlessly. Shiro squeezed him one last time before releasing him.
“I’m serious, Lance, you have improved so much just in the last couple of hours. I see no reason that you wouldn’t be able to use this in battle next time” Lance beamed proudly.
“Thanks, Shiro” his chest filled with pride. If Shiro said that, it must be true.
“No problem!” he said, still smiling. “I think that’s probably enough for tonight, but if you need any more help just ask, okay?”
“Yeah, I will!” Lance said happily. Shiro rested his hand on Lance’s shoulder, forcing Lance to look at him.
“I’m proud of you, Lance” he said. A blush began to creep up Lance’s neck. “You should probably try and get some sleep now” he said, patting his shoulder, his hand lingering before he stepped away. “Night, Lance”
“G- Good night” Lance stuttered as Shiro walked out of the room. Lance looked down at the sword in his hand, blushing wildly.
He never knew training could be so enjoyable.
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omg #9!!! :-)
50 wordless ways to say i love you
9. participating in their hobby even if it doesn’t personally interest you
A flushed, enthusiastic Peter runs up beside Ned’s locker, where Ned stands filling it with books in his after-school rush to head home as quickly as possible. Peter, not bothering with a proper greeting, slides his backpack of his shoulders and shakes it violently in front of his friend.
“Do you know what I have in here?” He asks, continuing to shake the bag that looked as if it were about burst at the seams, and Peter really couldn’t risk another backpack being broken or damaged or lost; May would absolutely under no uncertain terms murder him. “Total upgrade from the Death Star, dude! Ultimate Millennium Falcon, almost 8000 pieces! C’mon, you have to come build it with me today! It was like, eight hundred bucks on Amazon but Mr. Stark bought it for me which was the coolest thing ever and all the reviews said that it took them over twenty-four hours to build! Are you ready?”
Ned, looking genuinely disappointed, shook his head. “It looks awesome, Peter, but I can’t. I have plans with Betty, we’re seeing a movie and I got the tickets last week. Maybe we can do it another time?”
Peter blinks, unfamiliar with being turned down by Ned, but he tries not appear too let down as to not make Ned feel bad, because he knows Ned, and Ned will harp on his guilty conscience the entire time he’s out with Betty and then Betty will come to Peter’s house and yell at him for an hour about Ned’s feelings. “Oh, okay, yeah no worries, man, it’s totally cool, have fun with Betty,” Peter throws in an eyebrow wiggle for good measure, and Ned grins and nods hurriedly before rushing off, leaving Peter in the dust with his heavy ass box of Lego pieces.
Peter lets out a slow breath, and he spins around to retreat back to his own locker. Just then, you come bounding up to him, giving him a quick kiss to say hi. “What’s that?” You gesture toward his bag, which you can tell contains more than books from the way its zipper is about to break open.
“My new Lego thing from Mr. Stark,” he smiles, albeit shyly, and holds it closer to his chest. “I was gonna ask Ned to come over and build it with me but he’s busy with Betty, so he can’t.” He doesn’t really think to ask you. You’re not a Star Wars type of person, so to spare you some boredom he tries to refrain from involving you in that aspect of his life. He has Ned for it (and sometimes Mr. Stark if he’s free).
You’re unsure of whether or not you’re supposed to offer to make it with him, because while you want to, he hasn’t asked, so maybe he doesn’t want your help on this. The disheartened look on his cute face is enough to prompt you to ask anyway, hesitant. “Do- do you want me to come over to make it with you? I mean, if you’d rather make it with Ned, that’s cool too-”
“You’d wanna build it with me? Really? Are you sure?” You can see him practically buzzing with excitement now, trying to restrain himself but mostly wanting to launch right into your arms and hug the life out of you. “It might take a long time ‘cause it’s got a lot of pieces and I know you don’t like Star Wars that much.” He gets shy again, doesn’t like showing off that dorky side of him that’s gotten him made fun of in the past by countless people.
“Of course I do! And we can watch it, too, if you don’t mind me asking, like, a thousand questions.”
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss firmly on your mouth. “I don’t mind at all.”
He buys you the Hogwarts Castle lego set that night, after you’ve fallen asleep curled up on the couch (and snoring) with the half-finished Millennium Falcon covering his coffee table and majority of May’s floor. He’s not much of a Harry Potter type of guy, but he figures it’s the least he can do for his favorite person.
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Can I please request our fav bois going to a carnival or fair and anti tried to win a big fluffy black cat plush only to have help from wil or dark cause he was having a hard time at the game?🎡🎢🎠
“Holy shit. Guys. Hold up. I need that.”
Anti had been beaming, keeping his glitching to a minimum since they were out in public, and carnivals were pretty darn public. But he had quite suddenly put his arms out in front of Dark and Wilford on either side of him. Following Antis line of sight, they noticed a very average and sad looking claw machine, with a few big plush toys in it.
Wilford cocked an eyebrow.
“…you want to play the claw machine? But they’re all rigged!”
Anti ran towards the claw machine like a rabid animal nonetheless, and Dark and Wilford almost jogged to catch up with him. They were glad no children were at this particular location. It was a bit outdated for the time of year - A Halloween themed claw machine in March was an odd choice to be sure - but Anti didn’t give a single fuck about dates. He cared about getting what he wanted. And he was pointing so hard to the thing he wanted that he was leaving a claw mark in the glass.
Dark tried to keep the condescending tone out of his voice.
“The cat? You want the black cat? I didn’t really take you for the big stuffed animal type.”
“Ye don’t get it, Dark. That cat is calling to me. Spiritually. Like it’s analog fluff is trying to connect to my code but just doesn’t have the current running through it… I need it. Please, I gotta try.”
Wilford smirked. That was oddly poetic of Anti, and be damned if he wasn’t going to let his boyfriend at least try his hand at the horrific reality that was the claw machine - built exclusively for failure and taking all of your tokens. He reached into his pockets, where he’d just been creating more and more as the needs arose, like light counterfeiting, and gave a small handful of tokens to Anti.
Anti immediately shoved four into the machine and stuck his weird demon tongue out just a little in concentration. He pressed the button. It grabbed the ear and nothing else. Anti didn’t seem deterred. He went in the second time, aimed a little better and pressed the button again. This time, the claw wrapped around the head of the fluffy animal, but lost its grip very quickly. Anti huffed that time and almost glitched. Luckily, no one saw.
Third time was not the charm, and by the fourth time with his last token, he was basically seething with rage at this stupid, dumb machine. He banged on the side of it a couple of times before security walked past and he just dropped his angry act and sulked.
Wilford looked quizzically at the machine and back at Anti again, who had shoved his hands deep into his pockets, kicking the ground.
“Darling, this thing is mechanical. Why don’t you… do your thing?”
Anti rolled his eyes.
“Because it’s not like a computer. I mean, it has some really vague similarities but it’s basically as fuckin’ analog as the things in it. If I tried to get in there I might actually age, like, 30 years. And I don’t wanna be old like you guys!”
Dark raised his eyebrows.
He proceeded to lean on the machine ever so slightly, not enough to tilt it but enough to just… get his aura in there without it looking suspicious.
“Why don’t you try one more time, Pet? You’ve worked so hard, and you’ve made a lot of progress already.”
And that was true. Anti had managed to get the big, huge head dislodged from a lot of the other parts of various witch hats and pumpkin faces.
Wilford handed him one last token. Well, they all knew it wasn’t the last token but it was more a token of Antis worn down patience. Anti put the token in the machine and maybe he would have noticed the slightly darker aura around the machine if he wasn’t so damn concentrated. Wilford was almost concerned he’d bite his own tongue off before he’d get the huge-headed toy, but the grip on the claw seems to be stronger this time, and as the black cat rose from the sea of other plushies and made its way over to the dispenser, Anti literally glitched with joy. Dark took his hand away from the machine as Anti grabbed the black cat and hugged it. It’s head was bigger than he own but God, he looked so damn cute with it.
“FUCK YEAH! I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF, THAT’S SOME X GAMES SHIT, I GOTTA TELL CHASE, HOLY FUCK!”
He jumped around and hugged the plush toy again, before taking out his phone and taking a selfie with himself, flipping off the claw machine. Parents around them scowled and tried to cover their children’s ears from the filth that was coming from his mouth, but Dark and Wilford didn’t even try to censor it. They were just happy to see him happy.
Cheating had totally been worth it.
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I’ve been reading a whole lot on the Prometheus myth, because of the Frankenstein novel (little teaser: i’m making an au because of course), and oh my god - this motherfucker-
He reminds me a lot of Lucifer, in the sense that they can both be seen as ‘Lightbringers’, they both defy the gods, they’re both trickster figures, and they both give knowledge to humans which has negative consequences and for which they’re punished.
His name means ‘Forethought’ and he symbolises science, progress and humanity. And I just find it interesting how these myths like,, demonised knowledge. Adam and Eve were banished from Eden after eating the apple and obtaining knowledge (they also obtained emotions like shame which they didn’t have before i think), Prometheus was banished and punished for giving knowledge to humans.
It’s like even back then people knew that knowing shit, while making some things easier, brought on a lot of new types of struggles and burdens that just cuz they were new and disproportionate amongst people, made shit harder. That or they demonised intellectualism which is common of religions lmaooo
Cuz in the myth itself, none of the humans seemed bothered, it were the Gods (religious figures) that threw a hissy fit.
I guess this just seems so prominent today in politics or whatever, people sometimes demonise or proudly reject Academias, Universities, science, progress, sociology or just basic statistics cuz it doesn’t agree with them. They’re proud of being stupid and they wanna keep the masses stupid as well idk
Prometheus was like this cunning, tricky dude, in the war between Gods and Titans, he was with the Titans at first of course (he himself is one), but because the Titans didn’t wanna use his tricks on the Gods he was like “fuck it” and switched sides and the Gods won.
Prometheus apparently created humanity, or was one of the titans/figures that did, and then the gods don’t allow them knowledge and he’s like ‘wtf guys i spent so long working on this, look at how dumb they are they need help’
He tricked,,, Zeus,,, into eating shit??? ok it wasn’t shit it was like bones or horns covered in fat or smthn and Zeus got so fuckin pissed but couldn’t do anything so when Pro stole the fire he like rubbed his hands and was “oh finally hes gonna get it for making me eat shit that one time where’s my eagle”
ANOTHER version of the myth, that still keeps him as a cunning dude but at the same time a dumbass which we love, actually suggested humans already had fire, but because Pro made Zeus eat shit, Zeus was like “hAH im gonna take away the humans’ fire now fuck youuu” and Pro was like “oh fuck damnit no not my babies’ so he stole the fire back and Zeus was like “GOTCHA BITCH”
ANOTHER ANOTHER version suggested Zeus ATE SHIT ON PURPOSE so that he had a reason to take the humans’ fire (cuz he just wanted to be a dick or smthn) and Pro was like ‘oh fuck well-shit---’
anyways Prometheus is a dork that we love who means well and disrespects the Gods
be like him and make him proud by educating yourselves
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Content warning: Internalized homophobia
Summary: Richie has been waiting for this day as long as he can remember. Eddie just wishes he could forget. Soulmate AU. No Pennywise.
Word count: 3.4 k
Richie Tozier was a hopeless romantic. He would never admit it to his friends (even though they already knew), but he’d been eagerly counting down the days until his 16th birthday since he was old enough to understand what a soulmate was. He woke up that morning on only a few hours of sleep feeling his heart beating in his throat, and checked his shaking left hand with a mixture of excitement and fear.
5 perfect blue strings on his pinky. Two already pulled tight, indicating that he was more than ready to find his platonic soulmates. But his real focus was on his ring finger, where a single red string was tied neatly and hanging slack, trailing off into the distance. Richie grinned in the golden light of sunrise, knowing that someone incredible must be on the other end.
Richie found his way to Stan and Bill that day, who were thrilled to find their blue strings firmly attached, pulling the three of their hands together into a tangled high five.
“Two soulmates in one day? This is the best birthday present ever!”
But in inspecting the strings, they could tell the math didn’t make sense. The Losers must be soulmates, obviously, so why did Richie only have 3 blue strings left?
He hadn’t turned 16 yet, but everyone agreed one must be attached to Eddie, who was always by Richie’s side with a snort of laughter or a witty comeback. Richie nudged him with a smile and Eddie shot him an affectionate but exasperated eye roll.
Beverly, Ben, and Mike all made it clear that no matter where the strings led, they would still hold their friendship with Richie to the same level as soulmates. They pulled Richie into another hug, and Mike showed that smile that never failed to make his friends feel safe. “I’ll dye some dental floss blue if I have to, Rich. You’re all soulmates to me, string or not.” He waved his hand where he and Ben were tied with a blue thread. They were drawn together in the library, when they both went for the same old poetry book and found their hands pulled tight together. Ben grinned; He always seemed like he was glowing when they talked about that day.
“God, you corny fuckin’ losers… You guys are the best,” Richie said with a huge smile, “But I gotta admit, I’m really excited to find the future Mrs. Tozier! So long as she won’t beat me at video games of course, I do have a reputation y’know.”
Eddie scoffed, “Yeah, a reputation for hogging the Street Fighter machine at the arcade maybe. Besides, it’s your soulmate! What if she does beat you Richie? What will you do then?”
“If she challenges my high scores? I’m breaking this string myself!”
A few months later, Richie felt something – someone - pull on his red thread.
It was the middle of the night when he felt the tug, saw the movement, and Richie couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. He came to school sleep-deprived with his head full of stories about high school sweethearts drawn together in class, in the halls, even in through cracks in the stall doors of school bathrooms. The morning sky was dusted grey, and the crisp autumn air chilled his nose and twitchy fingertips. As his string pulled tighter and tighter, Richie tried to track down all his friends as quickly as he could, but he could only find Bill and Stan, chatting outside on the steps before class as usual. He ran at them, nearly barreling Bill over, frantically waving his left hand with its taut red string in the air.
“Oh my god! Guys what do I do? Holy fuck! It’s happening it’s totally happening!”
“Richie, l-look! It’s moving!” Sure enough, Richie felt a hard tug on his thread, somehow making his hands shake more, if that was even possible.
Even Stan couldn’t help but break out smiling for his friend. “Don’t move! Maybe they’re coming to you.”
Richie felt like his heart was going to break through his ribs. Another tug, and he wasn’t sure if he was excited or having a panic attack. Another tug, and Bill and Stan grabbed hold of his jittery free hand to steady him. Another tug,
and Richie Tozier’s string goes slack.
Richie feels something twist in his gut as the string hangs loose again. This never happened in the stories. This wasn’t how his story was supposed to go. He shook Bill and Stan off his right hand and started pulling at the thread, reeling it in like bright red fishing line, but the string stays slack. He’s getting desperate now, pulling hand over hand, cursing under his breath. Bill reaches out to touch Richie’s shoulder and he flinches and shakes him off.
“Come on, pull back damn it.” Richie whispers to he doesn’t quite know who.
“Richie, I’m really sorry… I know this means a lot to you-“
“Shut up, Stan!” Richie snaps. Stan shrinks back a bit and shoots Bill a nervous glance. “I don’t need your fucking pity. She’s gonna pull back alright?” Richie doesn’t even notice he’s started crying until he tastes the salt running into his mouth. “Any second now she’s gonna pull back. Pull back god damn it! Pull back! Please, fuck!”
Richie keeps pulling and begging to no one, chewing on the inside of his lip until he tastes stinging iron mixed with tears, and Bill spots it first. It draws closer and closer, until finally it dangles in Richie’s white-knuckled grip.
The frayed tail of a red thread flutters to the grass at Richie’s feet, and he collapses in shuddering sobs on top of it with his friends holding his cold hands.
Richie kept his hands in his pockets as much as he could that day. Despite his best efforts, most people managed to sneak peeks of his trailing broken thread, and he hated it. In his story, he was supposed to be half of the cutest couple around, with a taut red string connecting him to some pretty girl who loved his taste in music, his dumb jokes, and his coke bottle glasses. Now he was just the kid with the dead soulmate.
Richie’s hands shook too badly to even light a cigarette after school, but of course Beverly was there to help. Her warm, steady hands easily flicked the wheel of Richie’s zippo and Richie thanked her, finally able to take a long drag of his “cancer stick” (as Eddie called them). Beverly admired the sturdy lighter for a moment before slipping it back into Richie’s jacket.
Bev sighed. “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”
“Well shit, is really it that obvious Bevvy?” Richie scoffed.
“You look like a corpse, hun. And I think I’m the only one in the school at this point who has no clue why.” Bev punctuated her words with a sympathetic smile and blew some smoke at the sky. If there was one thing Beverly knew all too well, it’s that rumors spread fast in Derry.
Richie hesitated for a moment, and slowly pulled his left hand out of his pocket that was still clutching the end of his thread. Beverly’s smile fell. She gasped softly and looked back up at Richie.
“God, that’s awful… You’ve been looking forward to finding your soulmate forever…” Slowly, she reached over to hold Richie’s left hand in her own and stroked his tense knuckles with her thumb. She felt his grip loosen just a little under her comforting touch, and she smiled again.
But just as Richie’s hand loosened, there was a new tightness in the grip as a blue string wrapped firmly around their fingers, connecting them for a moment before loosening again. Richie could feel tears welling in his eyes as they met Bev’s, who pulled him into a safe hug.
“Look, Richie,” She murmured gently, resting her chin on his shoulder, “Something good did come out of today.”
Eddie Kaspbrak knew he liked boys. He knew he looked at other guys the way normal boys shouldn’t. He knew people like him got heckled in the streets, got killed, got sick. He knew, and nobody else could. Eddie dreaded the day that his little red string would appear, because he knew in his heart he’d find a man at the other end, and if anybody found out he would be ruined.
Eddie couldn’t sleep the night of his 16th birthday. He spent all night praying to whatever is out there that there would be no red thread, or even, god forbid, a broken thread. So, when midnight struck, he was awake to see the magical strings curl around his fingers. One, two, three, four, five of blue. Then a pause. It couldn’t have been more than half a second, but it felt like an eternity, like something wasn’t quite sure.
A vibrant red sixth string snaked around his finger, and Eddie buried his face in his pillow and sobbed.
At the very least, Eddie found comfort in his string being loose. His red string anyway. Immediately, he was tied to Stan and Bill. A third blue string came about a month later when Eddie was sick, actually sick for once, not just his hypochondria. Ben came by and brought some of his favorite teas, and even went through the trouble of brewing Eddie a cup. As he tried to pass the cup to Eddie, their blue strings pulled together, and they comically had to avoid spilling the hot tea locked between their hands by the thread.
He tried his best to ignore the red one until one day he couldn’t anymore. As he woke up for school, he noticed his string pulled tighter than usual, and his chest tightened as well. He shoved down his gut feeling and dismissed the tightness as a fluke. It was too early for this, he was sure of it. He had at least another year before he was deemed ready to find his soulmate. Plenty of time to think of a creative way to get out of it.
As Eddie got in the car to head to school, a wave of nausea hit him. He cracked the window to breathe in the fresh air like ice water filling up his lungs. Despite bundling up in a sweater, Eddie shivered the whole drive. The string was still pulling him forward, toward the school.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and brushed past Stan and Bill on the steps, mumbling that he didn’t feel well and hurrying to hide his thread from prying eyes. Locking himself in the cleanest stall available, he stared at the cord persistently yanking at his pale hand, taking quick heaving gulps of air. He attempted to grab his inhaler, but his hands were too tight to get a grip on the frustratingly tiny zipper of his fanny pack. The world was spinning around him, the walls of the bathroom stall were closing in, the sickly clinical smell of cleaning products made him dizzy, and the string just wouldn’t stop fucking pulling him toward his worst nightmare.
This fucking string. Eddie would do anything just to get rid of this fucking string. Fuck red threads of fate. Fuck soulmates. He just wanted to stay alive and stop having panic attacks every other day about what Bowers would do to a guy like him. What his mother would do. Eddie didn’t even realize what he was doing until he focused back in on the world outside his own head and felt the string between his teeth and his hands locked around the end tugging it desperately away from whatever was on the other end.
Without a second thought, Eddie pulled roughly at the length of string in his mouth and snapped it. He watched the other frayed end slip out the bathroom door into nothing. Holding himself up against the wall, he dug his nails into his palms and felt the hot tears running down his cheeks.
Eddie spent a week by himself after that, even avoiding his friends at school, just contemplating his new life without a soulmate and wondering what he would say when the other Losers noticed. Every now and then he’d feel a concerned tug on one of his blue strings. He would flinch, but tug back in an “I’m alright” gesture to whichever friend was on the other side. When he finally showed up to movie night at Bill’s house with his short, snapped string, nobody asked, but he received a few apologetic looks and nods. Richie teared up a bit and put a comforting arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and as usual he leaned into Richie’s warm touch.
Eddie settled down into bed that night feeling safe for the first time in days. The love from his friends recharged him, and the ride stopped spinning so fast for a moment. As he leaned over to set his alarm clock, he jumped at a sudden tapping noise coming from his windowpane. Across his room in the window, Richie was waving nervously, motioning for Eddie to let him in. Eddie rushed to jump out of bed and open the window, grabbing Richie’s arm to help pull him in.
As Eddie settled back down on his bed, Richie dusted himself off and picked some leaves out of his hair. “Sorry about that, Eds. I just wanted to talk about some stuff.”
“What is so important to talk about that you had to break into my room in the middle of the night? And could you not get dirt all over my rug? We just vacuumed for fuck’s sake and now you’re tracking in like 30 different allergens.”
Richie sighed at Eddie’s complaining and sat on the edge of his bed. Might as well get to the point. “Look, I know all the soulmate stuff was never your thing…” Eddie flinched slightly and shifted away, but Richie’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Sorry, I know it’s probably touchy for you. But listen,” Richie held out his frayed bit of thread and Eddie inhaled sharply. “My soulmate is… is gone too, Eds. So I guess I just wanted to let you know you can talk to me and stuff…”
Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in an expression that, if it weren’t for the heavy atmosphere in the room, would’ve made Richie laugh at how scrunched up he looked. “I appreciate it Richie, but there’s nothing to talk about, alright? Shit happens. Don’t worry about it.”
Richie huffed. “Come on man. Don’t bullshit me like that. I know something’s up. You fucking disappeared for what? A week? I can’t just not worry about you!”
“There is nothing to talk about.” Eddie repeated, sharper this time, “If there was something to talk about, I probably still wouldn’t want to talk about it, because it’s my business and nobody else’s! Now,” Eddie stood up and grabbed Richie’s wrist, pulling him to his feet as well. “Can you please get out of my room so I can sleep before my mom finds out about this?”
Richie reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand, broken thread and all, and holds it tight. The angle is awkward, but Richie doesn’t care. “Eddie, please. You can be honest with me. I-I know I can be a dipshit but I really do want to help you out here.”
The look in Richie’s eyes is so tender and confused, Eddie can’t bear to look at him anymore. He can’t watch Richie hurt like this. Stomach twisting, Eddie frantically pulled his hand away.
Except, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t.
Almost desperately pulling the boys together, a red thread tangled around their hands and wrists, in between their fingers, twisting itself in knots and bows, and as if a switch was flipped, tears start flowing freely down Richie’s face. Words fall out of his mouth in an uneven stuttering staccato, his natural rasp emphasized by the lump in his throat.
“Eds, holy shit was it- was it really you the whole time? This- this is amazing! I’m not gonna be alone I’m gonna be with you! I’m gonna be with Eddie! My soulmate! My best friend! My soulmate Eddie Kaspbrak! This is incredible, Eds!” Richie looks up from their tangled hands to Eddie, and suddenly his smile falls.
Never in his life had Richie Tozier seen Eddie Kaspbrak so completely terrified. His face was drained of color. Tears welled in his eyes but refused to fall. He had a painful, bruising grip on his own wrist trying to wrench it out of the knots, choking out “No, no, no!” over and over again.
Eddie begged to the string like it could hear him. He screamed his pleas out into the universe and prayed for it all to be a nightmare. Why did it have to be this? Why did it have to be them? Why couldn’t it just be some nice, clean, Christian girl? Some quiet, reserved family friend like his mom tried to set him up with so many times? Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be his best fucking friend?
Richie stopped, and for a moment, while the world was rushing by for Eddie, time slowed for Richie. Eddie didn’t want this. He looked like hurt animal, tied up and abandoned on the street, helpless and struggling to free himself. Richie couldn’t just watch Eddie fall apart like this.
“Eddie? Eddie, look at me okay? Look at me.” Richie’s gentle tone was a ray of sun cutting through Eddie’s mental hurricane. Catching his breath, he looked up to meet Richie’s eyes, and it felt like a stab in the gut. Richie smiled with a hint of bittersweetness, and raised Eddie’s cold, tangled hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of it.
Then, in one quick move, Richie snatched a bit of string between his teeth and broke it.
He drew their hands out of the unraveling thread and smiled through the tightness in his throat. “No worries Eds; I brushed my teeth first.”
Eddie stared down at the clump of thread in his hand, trying and failing to process what just happened. Richie had waited all his life for this moment. He’d been rambling about who his soulmate could be for as long as they had known each other. When they were 13, they would sit outside on hot summer afternoons and watch the people pass by. With a mouthful of sour candies, Richie would point out the pretty girls passing by saying “I hope she’s my soulmate. Or her. Or her.” and Eddie would elbow him in the ribs and tell him they’re all out of his league.
While Eddie was scrubbing his hands until they were raw, Richie doodled blue and red rings on his fingers with Sharpie. While Eddie threw himself into schoolwork when he thought too much about romance, Richie scribbled the lyrics to love songs in the margins of his geometry textbook. When Eddie was hiding himself for days from a soulmate-obsessed world, Richie was pacing around his room trying to think of how to get through to his best friend.
And Eddie thought back to all the times he should have known. All the times he did know, but filed it away in his mind, never to be acknowledged again. The way Richie went red and cracked a nervous joke when Eddie wiped a stray drop of melted ice cream off his face in the summer. The way he scanned Richie’s jawline when he blew smoke out Stan’s window. The way they melted into each other when they sit on Bill’s couch and the chatter of their friends became white noise to the sound of each other’s breathing.
All that time, all those years of his life waiting, and Richie was willing to give it all up in a second if it meant Eddie would stop living in fear.
Eddie mumbles something about being a fucking idiot and he really isn’t sure if he’s talking about Richie or himself. How did they end up here? His best friend - his soulmate - sitting in front of him, smiling through the sobs he couldn’t manage to hold back. He places the hand with the red clump over Richie’s white-knuckled grip on the bedsheets. He can feel himself drawn to melt into safety just like all those late movie nights and study sessions over all those years when he wasn’t ready to look at himself.
He’s ready now.
And as he tastes the bitter salt of mingling tears on Richie’s chapped lips, a thought plants itself in Eddie’s mind where apprehension once was. There are worse people to be stuck with.
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chapter 291 talk
Much to think about
Kindness. Sadness. Madness.
Little Touya makes me so so happy and sad at the same time. It’s really bittersweet, seeing him smiling and so excited about his training knowing how he’s gonna end.
Also. I’m really fuckin angry about BJ comeback. Like, serious? Right now?
On the one hand it’s good because he’s a good guy, hurray! Less trauma for Bakugou!
But seriously? Right now? It’s Touya’s moment!!! Why the fuck bring him nack now??!! I’m really angry about it because I feel like everyone is going to hold onto that to not believe Dabi’s story!! I’M ANGRY!
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Cam/Zee: Forced Strip
Well, I did it. 😂 I strive to provide content that serves as a scratching post for your Id as well as mine. From this ask about Cams suspicions about Bradley being a lowkey whumper (takes one to know one, Cam) Please mind the tags, the dubcon is steep in this.
CW: nsfw, BBU, forced strip (nonsexual but alluding to sexual acts and sexually charged) uncomfortable, dubcon stripping and once-over, includes both looking and touching, dubcon touch, nudity, mention of past forced stripping and hazing, Zee’s lack of autonomy, though he’s feeling more himself lately. I tagged threat of dub/noncon to be safe but that is not the case here, specifically.
“Zee,” Cam murmurs. Zee glances up at him to make sure, but he doesn’t sound unkind. In fact his face is calm, any sternness there out of concern and not malice.
Zee squirms anyway. “I told you, Cameron. He didn’t… do anything. I watched cable TV. I slept a lot. He fed me. Brought me back. Just like he said.”
“That’s such a crock of shit.”
Zee looks wounded. “I’m not lying.”
“I didn’t say you." Cam rolls his eyes. “Bradley. Fuckin’ business card. Audi-boy. He could’ve just given the guys a word to the wise kind of thing. Told them to lay off you, you know? He asked me for my permission to borrow you. But I know how it sounds when someone’s asking for permission they don’t really need.”
“Well, he didn’t do anything," Zee repeats, sure of himself.
Cam’s hand flies to his jaw like a whip, so fast Zee flinches. His grip is tight, forcing Zee to look at him, squishing his mouth like a fish. At least it wasn’t a slap. But he can’t remember the last time Cam hauled off and slapped him.
“I want to see you,” he says calmly, eyes darting back and forth between Zee’s. “And don’t talk to me like that.”
Zee huffs through his nose, wincing at Cam’s pincer grip on his face. He’s not going to speak with his mouth bunched up like a guppy. Cam can forget it. He tries to tell him so with his eyes, and Cam lets go so he can talk freely.
“See me?” he repeats, trying not to flinch away from Cam.
“All of you. For all I know he… I don’t know. You’ve hidden enough from us, haven’t you? If he hurt you, Zee…I swear...”
Zee shakes his head, a little more desperate. “But he didn’t.”
Cam’s eyes soften a moment, looking almost sad. He cups Zee’s face gently this time. “So show me. Please? It’s just us.”
He’s right about that. They’re alone in Cameron’s room, and it’s Sunday night. The house is fairly quiet. As quiet as it can be, anyway, with so many of them.
He slips his shirt over his head. He folds it quickly, sets it on the side of the bed. Cam takes a polite step back, eyes roving over his bare torso, the raised and violent scar on his chest from the iron.
“Turn,” he whispers, then clears his throat as if he hadn’t meant to, like his voice snagged.
Zee lifts his arms halfway, turns around.
He turns back, lays his arms flat at his sides.
“Those too,” Cam says, nodding toward Zee’s lower half. Zee gives a measured sigh, but does as he’s told. He steps out of his pants and folds those too, just in half, and lays them next to the shirt. He turns to Cam for approval.
Zee tilts his head entreatingly. Seriously?
“How will I know for sure, if we don’t do this right? Just lose em’. Socks, too.”
“He didn’t hurt my feet,” Zee says only a little rudely, pulling first his socks off and then hitching his thumbs in his underwear and pulling those down, too.
“It would actually be a good spot,” Cam says. “Sensitive. Inconspicuous. Sit on the bed.”
“Just for a second. Goddam it, Zee. You’ve gotten so out of line.”
Zee shuts his mouth and sits on the side of the bed, remembering the papercuts. Cam is more creative than most of them.
He comes close, close enough Zee’s nose brushes the fabric of his shirt. Cam is fully clothed in stark comparison to his own nakedness. He’s even got shoes on. His hands slip into Zee’s hair, lifting up his bangs, checking his hairline and gently roving his scalp. Zee drops his head backward at that, an intimate and soft sensation. “Mmm.”
“Open your mouth.”
He does, remembering all too well now where the last papercut had gone. Cam tilts his head back and forth.
Zee looks up at him, unsure. But Cam’s eyes are not hungry, that looks he gets when he asks if they should play something— just serious.
Zee lies naked on his back on Cam’s bed, dramatically flopping both arms above his head in full submission. Cam is meticulous but efficient in looking him over. He starts at his fingertips, checking underneath the nails by pressing them between two fingers. As if Bradley had shoved reeds under there, Zee thinks. He meant to watch the ceiling but ends up watching Cam’s face as he works instead.
Cam rubs his hands over Zee’s neck and glands, his collarbone, pokes his ribs lightly, his hips, chastely giving him a once-over when he gets to more sensitive areas. He only guides Zee’s legs apart a bit, clicking at him like a horse to spread them a few inches and running his hands along the tops of his thighs, through the soft hair all the way down to his feet. Zee can feel his gaze just as well as his hands, maybe moreso. And he wasn’t kidding about checking the soles of his feet.
“I knew you were gonna say that.”
Cam hauls him down half a foot by both ankles and flips him himself. “This can take two seconds or ten minutes. Up to you.”
Zee bites the inside of his cheek as Cam walks his hands down the back of his neck, over his shoulders.
Zee whimpers in halfhearted protest, mostly in question when Cam’s hand rove over his backside. “Relax. Chill.” Cam chastises, and Zee can hear the smile in his voice. Cam scans the rest of him and seems satisfied. As promised, it all took only a few seconds.
“I’m not giving you a full physical,” he says. Then, more playful. “Trust me when I say, this is not the way I’d go about it.”
Zee sits up, even more self conscious now that his rather clinical once-over is through. Cam hands him his t-shirt. He hurries into it.
“Since when were you so shy?”
“You’ve got all yours on,” Zee shrugs, modestly reaching for his underwear.
“So? You’re mine, ZeeZee. Clothes or no clothes. Maybe I’ll make you go around like that, get you used to it.”
“Nothing they haven’t done before.” He mutters.
Cam looks at him sharply, handing him his pants. “Shit. Right. I meant… just in here. Just us. Not in front of— nevermind. They’ve always got to ruin everything, don’t they?”
Zee gives Cam a wry grin. He thinks that may have been too much, because Cam raises an eyebrow at him, but then he just laughs, ruffles Zee’s hair.
“Maybe not everything.”
“So did I pass?”
“You weren’t being tested, Bradley was.”
“Did he pass?”
Cam tosses him his socks so they land on his lap. “For fuckin’ now.”
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just saw the nudes sent by mistake request. could i request the same thing for nekoma and shiratorizawa, pls?
I gotchu brös
- Kuroo opens up chat whenever he gets a notif that it's from you
- Or Kenma
- But mostly you Fuck those other guys
- So when he sees it's your tiddies he's like 👀👀👀👀👀👀 saved
- Kenma on the other hand opens it up, sees it, and immediately closes it
- He just sits there like what the fuck do I do what the fuck is that was that a fuckin BOOBIE?
- he's very confused and a little weirded out and VERY concerned
- Hes only seen hentai boobies
- Kai is like 😳😳 and dms you like "hey umm... Idk if you meant to send those to the group chat"
- You respond all "oh GOD I DIDNT IM SO SORRY"
- And this little shit just goes "hey it's fine trust me I'm not complaining."
- Yaku on the other hand
- First person to respond in group chat.
- "Y/N WHY ARE YOU TAKING PICTURES OF YOURSELF NAKED?!?! ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW."
- You respond with a whole ass apology and that it wasn't meant to go to the group chat
- Lev meanwhile is just staring at the picture like 😳😳 this is my first tiddie...!!!
- He's really happy and VERY erect
- But he zones in on you saying it wasn't meant for Nekoma and he goes !!! HUH??? so now he's messaging you left and right in the dms like WHADDYA MEAN WHO WERE THEY FOR QnQ
- Yamamoto.... Oh Yamamoto
- Press f in chat bc he be fuckin dead bro
- He came, he saw, he came again, he died
- Inouka is dming Lev like "IS THAT Y/NS NAKED BODY?!!" and now lowkey they're starting a fan club
- They've dragged Yuki into it, who can't breathe
- Teshiro... Poor teshiro doesn't really check the group chat so at practice he's just like ??? Why is everyone crowding and smiling weirdly at y/n??
- Kuroo just slides over and goes "I'll text you a pic of the exact reason why"
- KUROO N O .
- Low-key shohei joined the y/n body appreciation group and he low-key manages it and low-key has pictures of you (not naked) all over his room now oop don't make it weird.
- Tendo?? Saw and saved. He made a folder for all your potential future nudes sent his way. Fucker is collecting that shit like it's hentai.
- The only person he's willing to share them with is Ushijima, who really doesn't want to see them. But he's seen the one sent to the group chat- and that was enough to make him want to see more of YOU.
- Ushijima also gets very defensive about who they were originally for, but he doesn't say anything.
- Tendo on the other hand is like "WOW Y/N!!! 👀👀👀👀"
- Goshiki? Dead. He dropped his phone and it broke.
- "So how did your phone break" "I s..saw nudes of our volleyball teams c-cute manager ...."
- He begs Tendo to send the photo to him but Tendo won't lmao
- Semi "has no interest" and he respects your privacy so he deleted it (with some hesitance). But it only deleted the photo on HIS end, not on everyone else's. And now he can't stop staring at you.
- Reon saved the image but he dare not tell a soul.
- Kenjirou yeeted his phone - thankfully onto his bed- but still that sucker FLEW.
- Hayato and Reon text about you a lot. Like they already texted like "isn't y/n low-key cute hahahaha what if I dated her hahaha" but now it's like a "dude did you see her" "yeah dude I saw her" "fuuuuck dude"
- Sagae and Akakura both CHOKED. they were hanging out together and now have awkward hard-ons and don't know what to do.
- Jin just started freaking out in the group chat like ?!?!?!???!!!?!?
- He then deleted the image and refuses to acknowledge that that happened
- Yunohama keeps reminding him that it happened.
- Taichi scoffed but like.... Low-key.... He kept the image too... Dirty pervert...! And then the next day he's like... Staring at you constantly... Bro... Just say it... U wanna see y/n naked irl bro... It's ok...
- Also... Tendo asked if he should send one back
- Everyone disliked that.
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this morning at the farmer’s market my coffee guy looked me up and down and just said in the most gentle caring tone of voice “oh, honey. you want me to just fuck you up?” so i was like “fuckin do it joel the coffee guy” and he handed me a four shot red eye so like that’s how my life is going
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Sample of tomorrow’s The Red Thread chapter!
OH MY GOD GUYS I AM SO EXCITED, SO HERE, HAVE THIS.
Abruptly, the shimmer of threads around you began to change, and you lifted your head. A radiant white glow rolled out gently across the rooftop, chasing away the shadows as surely as the sun. You let one hand dip out into the flow of light as it slid over you like the burn of pure fire, and it wasn’t long before you were cradled within the soft flames. Flickers of smouldering red soon joined, and you closed your eyes until all your third eye could see was a sea of white fire, shot through with red tongues of flame.
There was only one person you knew who cared so fully. The quiet thump of boots landing on hard cement only confirmed your suspicions.
By the time you managed to rise to your feet, your third eye falling shut, the Devil stood on the rooftop, his chest heaving.
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For @shattsunday July Prompts: “Well, that’s just ridiculous,” he scoffed. (One of them confessing the other while being ridonculously drunk, the other not believing - at first?.)
This got lowkey angsty in the middle there, so uh, sorry abt that
"Well, that's just ridiculous," he scoffed.
Shiro set down the bottle down with a loud clunk, the liquor sloshing in it for a second before settling. "It's not ridiculous!" he said, "you don't get to decide if it's ridiculous, anyway. I'm the one who has a crush on you, and I get to say whether it's ridiculous." Although, Shiro saying he had a crush was starting to steer the conversation into ridiculous territory. They were supposed to be all adult or whatever, senior cadets and all that. They snuck a bottle of alcohol in, which Shiro thought was very mature of them.
"I think it's pretty ridiculous," Matt said. "I mean, you're… you're you, and I'm. I mean, I'm just trying to say—shit, I think I'm drunk."
"I think you're drunk, yeah." Shiro could've easily changed the subject there, told Matt to head to bed, but he also couldn't leave a confession like that just dangling there in the air between them. "Do you not like me?"
"No," Matt said, "I mean, no, I don't not like you." He sighed. "Gimme that, I want to keep being drunk."
Shiro snatched the bottle before Matt could clumsily reach for it, because even though Matt was far from getting alcohol poisoning, because they'd needed to buy a bottle small enough to sneak inside a pocket, he was already way more drunk than Shiro, and that was unfair. He downed the rest of it.
"Ass," Matt said, without malice. "I just—okay, so, I like you. Like, a whole hell of a lot. I think about kissing your face more than I think about homework, which. I don't really think about homework that much, but the point is that I think about kissing you, and, and—"
"So kiss me," Shiro said, as emboldened by the cheap whisky as the emotion boiling his chest at hearing those words from Matt.
"You know how hard it is—you can't have a relationship in the Garrison, it's… I mean, I know I'm a 'fuck the rules' kind of guy, but that's the kind of thing that gets people demoted, and…"
"We can't risk that if we're going to space," Shiro agreed, feeling impressively reasonable for stating the obvious. Was this what alcohol did to you?
"Jesus, fuck, I want to so bad, though," Matt said, and Shiro put a hand on Matt's knee, fingers curling in the fabric of his loose uniform pants for just a moment before letting go.
"Let me take you out," Shiro said, "one date. Please? I promise if it sucks, we'll go back to being best friends and it'll be totally, totally normal."
Matt's head dropped onto Shiro's shoulder and he made a distressed noise. "Oh my god," he whined, "if you do that, I swear, I'll want it all, the whole damn thing, like, I'll wanna be your boyfriend and hold your hand and all the stupid romantic crap that we can't even do."
"Hmm," Shiro said, turning the empty bottle between his hands, "I remember a really cute guy telling me what the Garrison doesn't know won't hurt 'em."
"Oh yeah? Well then, cute guys better stop fuckin' stealing my catchphrases," Matt said, and Shiro couldn't see his face, but he knew he was pouting.
"I was talking about you, Matt."
"Alright, well, you better rock my world with this date then, man." Matt giggled, which was adorable, and settled in against Shiro's side, which was even more adorable.
And Shiro looked up at the ceiling of their little dorm room, set the bottle back onto the tile floor they were seated on, and thought that everything was gonna be alright. And maybe kind of awesome.
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quotes from tommy's stream
"streaming is for losers and ranboo"
"i love robbery like i love women. a lot." (same)
"i am like a walking dandelion"
"my best friend my brotherly figure wilbur soot"
"WHAT IF I TURNED THE PENIS INTO THE WALL?"
"FOLLOW ME i'm trousers >:)"
"do you happen to know why you guys hate wilbur soot? trousers wants to know"
"im trousers and im sexist"
"trousers remembers he read it on a wiki somewhere"
"STOP FOLLOWING TROUSERS"
"I'M FUCKIN' TROUSERS BITCH"
"i'll shit on my hand and chuck it at you"
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