#jeans are SO IMPRACTICAL

[casdeans-pie]

The first time Castiel heard the phrase to 'kiss something better' he thought it sounded like a ridiculous notion.

How could a kiss heal a wound? Kisses held no magic. No power.

But Castiel found the phrase drifting back to him while he looked at Dean, hissing with pain as he wiped blood away from his grazed skin.

(Dean insisted on wearing jeans with useless intentional rips on the knees, so it felt inevitable that he would eventually scuff the skin there.) (Castiel had even told him so.) (Dean had told him to stop being such a nag.)

Strange how Castiel knew that there were no mystical properties to a kiss, and yet now it was all he could think about. He could sink to his knees and place his lips directly over the wound, letting his grace knit the flesh below. Or... he could grab a fistful of Dean's flannel and crush his lips to Castiel's own, walking them backwards until they hit the wall, bodies lined up, grace pouring in through their joined lips to thread down Dean's body to the injury and-

"Hey, Cas? You okay there, buddy?" Dean said, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts. His lips pulled up into a playful grin that actively grew as Castiel huffed and narrowed his eyes. "Y'kinda giving me a look like you might smite me or eat me."

"Your jeans are impractical," Castiel snapped in a deep rumble. He prodded Dean in the forehead with two fingertips - felt his grace seal the injury instantly - and disappeared with a hard flap of wings.

#once again I am writing fic instead of sleeping. making all the good and sensible life choices asdjklklfj #Deans just sitting there injured while Cas is having a full gay crisis #destiel #destiel ficlet #castiel #pie's projects #destiel fanfic

[sinsandsweetness]

season 5 scary beard rick getting sweet, hyperfem reader on her knees for him, and her just looking up all sweet and obedient and docile, just about ready to do anything for him I FEEL LIKE ITD DRIVE HIM WILDDDD

“Are you okay?” She whispers as he tugs her behind the barn. Neither of them wanting to attract any attention from the potential threats out in the woods.

“Just need your help with something, princess,” his mouth starts trailing down her neck as he pushes her up against the barn. Rough wood with the threat of a splinter catches on her sweater. It’s stretched out collar falls off her shoulder and grants him even more access to her neck. Nipping lightly at her collarbone.

“With what?”

He doesn’t answer, tilting his head up, he catches her lips and grabs her hand, placing it against the front of his jeans. Tall and hard under the dark denim, she gets the hint almost immediately.

It doesn’t take long before she’s on her knees. So obedient. The very impractical mini skirt she wears is riding up above her hips and the sight of her soft bare skin drives him wild. He’s thankful that her pretty lace panties are only shown to the wood siding of the barn and not the forest behind them. He holds one arm up against the wall for support, doubling as an unintentional shield to their intimate act. His fingers lace with her unruly locks, guiding her close enough to kiss him through his boxers.

“Atta girl,” he says as her fingers trace at his waistband. The site in front of him nearly catches him in a trance. She’s so pretty like this. All wide eyed and willing.

He urges her on, “You know what to do.”

#idk how to feel about the third person vibe #tell me what u think pls #i need validation #rick grimes x female reader #Rick grimes x reader #Rick x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x fem!reader #Rick grimes x hyperfeminine reader #Rick daydream #Rick Drabble #Rick imagine #twd fanfiction #Rick grimes smut #twd smut

[desolationtimstoker]

gerry keay (classic flavor):

skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life

eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers

his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:

- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.

- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.

- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.

- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.

he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.

black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.

we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.

the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.

sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.

he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.

gerry keay (tmagp):

goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.

we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!

no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.

the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.

loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."

he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.

his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.

there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.

#don't mind me just sorting through headcanons #gerry keay #gerry delano keay #tmagp #tma #my post

[1d1195]

Sun-Kissed II

Alrighty, the first part of Sun-Kissed is here. This is the second and final part. Just over 8.1k words. It picks up right where the last part let off. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: More 18+ things happening here. Public sex (kinda), oral sex. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. There's some minor angst but it's really mostly fluff still.

Once more reminding everyone I know how impractical love at first sight is now that I'm a full grown adult, however I fully believe in love at first sight for Harry Styles.

--

“This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

It was so surreal having dinner with Harry’s mom and sister. They were a delight. She could see where Harry got his charm, his lovely looks, and just his wonderful personality. He was touchy, but not inappropriate. She insisted she help with dinner, and he pressed a hand to the middle of her back while she worked on getting the plates from her cabinet for the table. Immediately, she could feel her brain returning to normal functionality. While they spent a good hour on the beach kissing and holding one another watching the sunrise, the thought of leaving him for any extensive amount of time after she just fucked herself on his leg made her extremely disoriented.

Harry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he hovered beside her while she helped him cook the fish on the grill. “Y’look so pretty,” he said. She did change despite all three of them saying it wasn’t necessary, just a black tank top tucked into a pair of jean shorts to make her feel a little more presentable. It was by far the most boring look on the planet, but she liked the fact that Harry thought she was pretty. She tried not to blush too much, and she really didn’t want to overwhelm his family with their PDA. Even though she really wanted to wrap herself around him like a koala to a tree.

When they sat down to eat, Harry sat beside her, resting his hand on her knee, drawing small little circles along her skin. Anne complimented both her cottage and Harry’s. She thanked her no less than thirty times for letting them intrude for dinner. She already, insanely, adored Anne. She reminded her so much of her own mom who she missed a lot during the summer months, when no one wanted to set foot around this town. “Are you going to watch the sunset later?” She asked.

“That was the plan. And then ice cream of course,” Harry smirked.

“Oh, please come with us!” Gemma cheered. She loved Gemma too. It was effortless. Everything about Harry entering her life seemed so effortless. Gemma was so funny and lovely. She thought Harry must have had the best childhood with a sister like her in his life.

“I really don’t want to intrude,” she said kindly.

Both women rolled their eyes. “Like Harry made us intrude on you for dinner? Please,” Anne scoffed. “We want you to.”

She glanced at Harry who simply smiled at her, delight dancing in his green eyes waiting for her answer. “You’ll all need sweatshirts,” she told them.

*

Gemma and his mum walked out a bit on the tidal flats to get some more pictures at different angles. She and Harry stayed put in the lifeguard stand once more. “Thank you for dinner,” he murmured in her hair. This time he made no fuss about getting as close to her as possible. He felt better having as much physical contact with her as allowable. Harry was situated on the actual seat of the stand while she sat on the floor of it, between his legs. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and speak to her.

“Thank you. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Nothing t’be sorry ‘bout.”

He played with her hair letting his fingers get caught in the waves and gently tugged through them to avoid it knotting and hurting later when she needed to brush it. He spotted his sister taking a picture of the pair of them, but he didn’t bring it to her attention. Instead, he focused on her hair, mindlessly braiding it. “Are you braiding my hair?” She giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are...” she sighed and tilted her head back a bit. “I’m very glad I met you.”

Harry wanted to sleep in the same bed as her. He didn’t even care if anything sexual happened. He just wanted to be as close as humanly possible to her. Unfortunately, his mother and sister were totally killing the vibe tonight for that to happen. “They leave in the evening, the day after tomorrow,” he murmured. “Then I want t’kiss y’on every surface of Sea View. And watch another sunrise with you.”  She shuddered, nodded mutely. His voice was utterly dreamy. She immediately clenched her thighs together for some relief. He inhaled sharply. “If y’clench those pretty thighs together in front of me again, love, m’gonna have t’fuck you before they leave, and I don’t know how we’ll manage t’hide that.”

It took every bit of self-control in her not to do it again. He was a little bossy. It made her ache of course between her legs and she honestly thought of doing it just to spite him. Just so he could figure out how he could fuck her without letting his family know. Make him sweat because it seemed entirely unfair that she would have to use her own fingers before falling asleep tonight instead of his thigh...or his dick.

“Did I go too far?” He asked quietly. He sounded concerned, but not quite remorseful. She was pretty sure he knew why she was silent, and he was just trying to make her a little crazier. He slid his hand down her arm, grabbing the elastic from her wrist because not once did he stop his fingers from braiding her hair. Saying salacious things but continuing the sweet gesture. The dichotomy of his personality was overwhelming.

“I’m getting an ice cream cone just so you have to watch me lick it,” she whispered.

He groaned and dropped his face to her neck, tugged her around the waist so she was in his lap. She could feel the bulge of his dick pressed against the back of her thighs. “Can’t believe I invited them.” She smiled and dropped to the side of his lap, draping her legs across his lap so his erection was covered but she wouldn’t tease him—even though she wanted to. “Didn’t know I was going t’meet the goddess of the sun on m’vacation,” he mumbled. “Never would have invited them.”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “You’re something else, Harry.”

*

He spent the entire day away from her and it felt like agony, especially since the only relief he got between his legs was his hand in that outdoor shower where he imagined her licking him the same way she licked her ice cream cone the night before. At least his brain was functioning better.

I refilled your grill, so it’s all set if you need it. :) She messaged him around lunch time.

Come to the beach. He answered in response.

Enjoy your family, Harry.  She sent a kissing emoji.

I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

Harry.

Please, love. Want you so bad.

Shhh...

“Are you texting her?” Gemma asked. Anne was down by the water, collecting shells and Gemma was reading her book, glancing up at Harry from the rim of her sunhat. She already knew the answer was yes because Harry couldn’t hide the absolute delight on his face.

There was no use trying to lie. He could feel his face smiling like a moron at the screen of his phone. She gave them her umbrella for the day and all the sunscreen she had. The unending kindness she had was admirable and he was so grateful to have met her. “Gemma, I think m’going t’fall in love with her.”

“I think you already are, you dummy,” she rolled her eyes. That was accurate. He probably was. “Just...be careful. I feel like neither of you are thinking about how you leave in a week, and you live in different parts of the state,” she reminded him. “I adore her. That’s not the problem. I just don’t want distance to hurt you...either of you.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of it like that. He’d been too focused on this bubble of salt air and love at first sight. He had been teaching at the same school for the last two years after being at two different schools prior. He loved where he was in his career, but if it meant he could be with her? He would apply to any school necessary. He’d have to wait and see where the week went, he supposed. He was sure they could do long-distance. They had all the same breaks and things to map out time for one another.

They’d always have the summer, too—he knew where she’d be.

“Do you want t’go in the water?” Gemma asked. “Mum looks like she has all the shells on the beach in her arms.”

Harry chuckled. “What’s she even collecting them for?” He asked, grabbing Gemma’s hand to help her up from her chair.

“She’s got some wreath vision in her head,” she shrugged as they headed toward the ocean. “Think she saw it in Better Homes and Gardens last month.” He nodded and scooped up his sister the second she was off guard, just as their toes hit the water, and he hurried out further to toss her into the waves. She spluttered as she came to the surface, and he was laughing. She splashed him and gave him a big wet hug. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

*

Given that she was literally at the beach at the same time, Harry (and his family) insisted she sit with them on their last day of their visit. They chatted the whole day about almost everything and anything. She could see where Harry got his easy-going vibe. It was as easy to talk to them as it was with Harry. He rubbed lotion on her back, so she didn’t burn, and continued to find ways to touch her without being over the top. He brushed sand from her temple after she laid on the blanket beside him, so it wouldn’t get in her eye. Whenever they were near each other, he constantly pressed a hand to her hip in an effort not to be in her way as they reached for things out of the cooler.

Harry felt so much less tense than he had the day before. She spent their time apart running errands and letting Harry have a fun-filled day with his family. Being in her presence made him so instantly happy. It was impossible to believe he could fall so hard and so quickly. He truly wondered what was in the salt air that made his heart overtake all brain function.

Gemma shared at least three different fish recipes and vegetarian meals with her. “It’s hard to cook for us, I know,” she smiled.

“It’s not bad, I just run out of ideas. I am just very boring, and only like plain boring fish. Or salmon. That’s it.”

“That’s plenty, honestly. Don’t feel bad. I miss chicken teriyaki every day,” Gemma nodded.

Anne smiled at Harry from across their space while the two girls huddled over the jewelry, she got from a specialty shop in town. “Let me make a call and see if I can get us in. They’re very particular, but I know the owner,” she smiled. “We’ll have to leave early though; I don’t want to cut your beach day short.”

“No, that’s okay. Harry was going to take me to the shop you told him about with the sweatshirts?” Anne said.

“Oh, not fair! I want to go!” Gemma pouted.

“We could probably do both, but you may just wait a long time at the shop,” she explained. “There’s always so many people.”

Anne and Gemma shrugged. “You go to a tourist location, you’re going to deal with tourists,” she smiled.

Harry just watched all three women strategize showering and getting ready to go run their errands. She made her phone call and proudly stated they could go, just a half hour before they closed at four. It was like a military operation and Harry was overcome with how much he liked having his mom and sister get along with his beach goddess. “I just have to make him muffins before we go,” she rolled her eyes.

“You bake too?” Anne wondered.

“Oh yes. A real hobby of mine. Muffins are my specialty. I put cranberries in them with chocolate chips and an extra teaspoon of vanilla extract. Everyone goes crazy about them, but otherwise I just follow a basic muffin recipe.”

“You’ll have to save us some. Harry used to work at a bakery before he went into teaching,” Anne explained. “We’re huge fans of baked goods.”

“I’ll save you some,” she giggled, and Harry thought there wasn’t a vacation that would ever top this one.

*

The man at the jewelry store clearly wanted her as much as Harry wanted her. He couldn’t blame him though because she decided to torture him in a sundress. It was a pale pink with orangey red seashells patterned on the fabric. Sunglasses atop her head, he once more thought she looked like a princess, truly thought she would live in a sandcastle if she could. It was flowy, draped to the floor and Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the skirt and live there. She paid no mind, however, to the way the man looked at her. Nor did she seem to see the internal fight Harry was having of keeping it PG as the other person working helped Gemma and Anne while she looked at other beachy jewelry. “Oh, those are so pretty,” she cooed pointing to rustic looking earrings. A little chain dangled into two pearls with a seashell fitted at the end of the little chain. Harry pressed his hand to her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Do y’want them?” He murmured into her hair, his lips touching the back of her head. He hoped that her friend saw how close he was to her while he munched on the muffins.

Maybe Gemma was right. How was he supposed to be separated by practically a whole state from her when he couldn’t even fathom another man talking to her? She rolled her eyes, but she leaned back into his embrace. He wrapped an arm around the front of her hips, kissing the side of her head as she spoke. “No, Harry. You met me less than a week ago, I don’t want you buying me a $150 pair of earrings,” she rolled her eyes. Harry wanted to get them for her. He would probably steal them for her if she asked him to. He didn’t see what knowing her for less than a week had to do with it.

“Excuse me, can I get these?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she whispered trying to turn out of his embrace. She caught the way Gemma and Anne exchanged a look and smiled to themselves as they were fitted with their own array of beach jewelry. Harry slid his card through effortlessly as soon as the man took them out of the case. He had a bit of chocolate on the corner of his mouth, but Harry couldn’t blame him. She shared a few with him and his family and she could see why people went nuts about them. He did notice the way he eyed the closeness of Harry’s arm draped around her waist. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Assurance you’ll let me come back next summer,” he winked.

“It should be a thank you for bothering her all week,” Gemma said as they headed back out to the car with their purchases. Harry drove and she sat in the back with Gemma so Anne could sit up front. Harry grabbed his mom’s hand unceremoniously and she thought it was the most adorable thing in the entire world while she directed him to the overcrowded shop.

“He wasn’t a bother,” she giggled sitting forward to squeeze his shoulder while he drove. He felt like there was electricity zipping through him, he worried he wouldn’t make it to the store in one piece if she did it again.

The overcrowded shop was actually very fun for people watching. Harry found his arm around her waist the entire time and insisted on getting matching sweatshirts in different colors. She rolled her eyes once more at how crazy this all was falling so quickly for a man she just met. She would have to research love at first sight and see if there was some evidence that it was normal to feel and behave this way.

Content again with their purchases, they returned to the car. “Dinner?” Anne asked. “We’d like to treat you for invading your home the first night,” she said sweetly.

“Seriously, it was the least—”

“Love, jus’ let us buy y’dinner,” Harry hummed. “Jus’ tell me where t’go,” he glanced at her in the rearview mirror and winked at her.

So, what was she supposed to do but enjoy dinner with Harry and his family again?

*

Anne gave her a huge hug, thanked her no less than thirty more times, and then hugged Harry and told him to be polite and give her space if she wanted it. There was nothing she wanted less. In fact, if she could have glued herself to Harry she probably would.

But she also thanked her for dinner and for being so kind to her that first night even though she looked crazy in her post-nap haze. Anne thought nothing of it and Harry wondered if he would ever get over the euphoria he felt, knowing his mum liked the girl he was already smitten with.

Gemma also hugged her and thanked her profusely. Told her she hoped to see her again and let her know if she needed recipes for Harry while he was there. The pair waved as Harry’s family left Sea View. They walked back to Sun-Kissed Cabana hand in hand. Fingers twisted together. She still needed to do the dishes from the muffins she made earlier. “Do you want to watch the sunset or go to—”

The second they were inside her little place; Harry dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt over his head. He didn’t even shut the front door. “Harry,” she gasped as his lips started the ascent up her leg, starting at her knee, trailing over her thigh, moving inward toward her underwear. Harry sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to the outside of her underwear. She put a hand on the wall as he lifted one of her legs to go over his shoulder and she wished her brain was working at full capacity. She would have requested the door close so no one walking or driving by could see right in the entry way and see her gasping at the man between her thighs. Anyone that even glanced would immediately know what was happening. She would ruin countless family vacations if anyone looked. People would glare at the indecency, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The only reprieve from her worry was that the sun was setting, and they hadn’t turned on a light.

“Can I make y’feel good, love? Please?” He begged. “Been dreaming ‘bout y’on m’tongue, kitten,” his voice was nearly muffled by the fabric of her dress paired with the fact his voice was so low and deep.

How could she say no to him begging her? God, she wanted his tongue on her. “Yes, yes, please,” she whimpered closing her eyes as his finger hooked around her panties and pushed them to the side. He didn’t wait one second before his mouth was on her.

His lips wrapped around her clit, and he sucked hard making her cry out. She was certain she was dripping. Embarrassingly wet. If his mouth wasn’t there, she probably would have dripped on the floor. Harry groaned loudly against her sending vibrations through her. Her vibrator would never compare ever again. She whimpered, grabbing his head atop the fabric of her dress pressing him toward her. He pulled back pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh over his shoulder as he paused for a breath. “M’gonna live here,” he promised making her feel shaky on the one leg that remained on the floor.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

“No, no way, kitten,” he murmured kissing a trail back to where he wanted to be; almost as much as she wanted him there. “Gonna make y’feel s’good. Promise. Gonna make y’come all over m’tongue again and again,” his words were so sweetly said despite the filth coming from them. However, given that his lips and tongue were doing sinful things to the apex of her thighs, she shouldn’t have been so surprised that he could turn her to mush physically and mentally with his mouth.

He continued, lapping between the folds. He held her in place, pressing his hands into her fleshy backside. She moaned, wishing she was pressed against the wall so she could drop her head back. She was worried she would collapse and break his neck. Especially when he did make her come. “S’fucking good,” he groaned into her kissing her puffy clit. “God, you’re s’wet. S’that for me?” He wondered sliding his hand over her backside toward her hip, down her groin where his finger slid through her folds gathering the sticky moisture that accumulated from herself and from his mouth. “Did I get y’this wet?”

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much. She nodded breathlessly, unable to speak if she wanted to. He couldn’t even see her nodding. She was overheating. She wanted his mouth back on her. It was unfair he was torturing her with words and physical movements of his mouth. “Y-yes,” she managed. “Harry, please,” she croaked out afterwards.

He groaned at the way she sounded. Like heaven. Begging. He was rock hard, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to taste her. Wanted to have her come all over him so he could clean her up and do it again as fast as possible.

After massaging her clit between his thumb and forefinger and letting his middle finger slide through her folds he finally dipped it into her hole. She cried out at the invasion and ground into his hand. “S’that good, baby? S’that make y’feel better?” He asked. That mocking tone from the morning she got herself off on his thigh was back she wished she could bite back a retort, but his lips weren’t allowing any coherent thoughts through. “S’that make the ache go away?” She nodded again, not that he could see but she thought he probably knew it was true. It did make the ache go away except she wanted to come so badly. “Such a good girl,” he moaned licking her like he was the one that invented doing this. “Y’gonna come on m’tongue?” He asked.

“Please,” she thought she was going to cry if she didn’t get a release soon. His finger felt so good, wiggling around her walls looking for the spot that would drive her wild while his lips attached back to her clit. “Please, Harry, please,” she moaned, and Harry thought she might be crying but he couldn’t see with her dress covering his head. It was warm below the fabric, his hot breath, and her carnal need to come making all senses done for. He swore the only thing he knew to do was make her come hard. He picked up the pace of his finger dipping in and out of her soaking wet hole. She was starting to clench just barely while he kept flicking his tongue over her clit that he kept in place while sucking it between his lips. “Right there,” she cried. “Please, please, please,” she begged as the flutter of her walls began to work around his finger.

He brought his arm around her, pressing her close to him so he could continue licking and fingering her until finally she moaned and shook. “Yes, fuck,” she whimpered, and her perfect pussy clenched rapidly around his finger while he continued his licking of her clit so she could ride out her second orgasm due to Harry against his lips and hand. As the waves finished wracking through her she was breathing heavily as Harry lapped up all the wetness making insanely lewd slurping noises as he did—like he wanted every drop of her. When he finished placing the most ironically chaste kiss on her oversensitive clit, she sighed. The leg on his shoulder slumped to the floor. He pulled her panties down to her ankles, kissing down her leg as he did. Helped her step out of them.

“You’ll need new ones,” he stated as a matter of fact. Not a need to brag although he very well could have. As he flipped the curtain of her skirt back over his head to free him, standing in the same moment.

His hair was a little staticky from the fabric brushing his hair. He smiled at her, impishly it seemed. Her breath was uneven, and she tried to remember how to speak but couldn’t find the words to say. “Are y’alright? Was that okay, love?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering as if she were about to pass out. She was speechless. It made him feel good that he could get that kind of reaction out of her, but he was worried he accidentally broke her. Her eyes looked glassy like she wasn’t fully coherent yet.

He smiled, sweeping her into his arms like she was a bride and carried her to the sofa. It was so quick, and he made it seem so effortless she didn’t have time to think about how heavy she must have been for him to do that.

He left her safely and softly on the couch, kissing her forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. The ache between her thighs was satiated and she could feel her brain cells reconnecting and hoped she’d be able to form a sentence at any moment.

“Harry?” She asked tentatively. Her voice was cracking. Blinking unsurely, at the lack of Harry beside her.

“M’right here, angel. Jus’ getting us some water,” he promised sweetly and hurried to sit beside her. The worry in her voice with just his name made his heart hurt. He handed her the cup so she could get rehydrated. Harry thought she was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but he sensed her uneasiness. He knew she felt it the other day too after their sunrise fun—except he spent most of the day not seeing her. He would make up for it now. Scooping her into his lap, scrunching the fabric of her skirt up over her hips so she could straddle his lap, he didn’t focus on the fact there was nothing between her body and his shorts. Her head dropped to the crook of his neck, and he soothingly rubbed her back while he took his own sip of water over the top of her shoulder. “Y’okay, love?” He asked tentatively again now that she had time to process the event in her mind, had some water, and that Harry was holding her carefully.

“Mmm,” she hummed softly. Her breath tickling his neck. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and kissed her hair. “I’d say the pleasure was all mine, but I think y’got the brunt of it.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make you feel that good,” she mumbled sadly. Almost as if she was hurt by the idea.

He smirked. “Won’t be difficult, kitten. Thought I was gonna come jus’ from touching you,” he promised. She didn’t pay attention to that bit of info. She was too busy feeling bad about how needy she was right now.

“M’sorry m’needy,” she whispered—it always happened when she orgasmed like that at the hand of another guy. There were only a select few that managed to do it, but only one that left her high and dry after. It made her feel terrible and it had been a long while since she let it happen like that. Worried that she would feel dirty and gross again. She couldn’t really help herself with Harry though and she worried that she would bother him being so needy. “This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

*

Harry doesn’t know how many times he orgasmed. True to his word, he kissed her and kindly fucked her on every possible surface in Sea View. Except the outdoor shower. But that was only because it was raining. She giggled as Harry closed his eyes, smirking at her little laugh. “Something funny, kitten?” He asked reaching out across the bed—where they ended their escapades for the day.

She shook her head. “Never thought I’d be part of the group that’s been fucked at Sea View.”

He rolled over top of her, the sheets keeping a barrier between them. “S’been the best vacation of m’life,” he promised. “Gonna leave a six-star review,” he promised.

She laughed loudly, making his heart thrum with adoration at how carefree it sounded. “I don’t do this for everyone that stays here, don’t make reviews I can’t cash in on.”

“Love, if I could afford it, I would rent this place the whole summer.”

She smiled so beautifully. Harry thought she really was an angel like her friend said. A sun-kissed one for sure. “You’ll stay the night, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll watch TV and order food, whatever you want,” he promised.

“I’d like that. But I’ll need to go get a change of clothes.”

“You won’t need them,” he shrugged.

She giggled again.

*

They spent the next few days in the normal routine they developed the week before. They went to the beach, they checked an item off Harry’s vacation bucket list, they ate dinner together, watched the sunset, got ice cream, and moaned into each other’s mouths as much as possible.

They also touched a lot more. Harry held her hand while they waited in line behind the group of people ahead of them at the mini golf course. His arms looped around her back while they waded in the water, holding her close to him. He kept a hold of her foot in his lap while they read their books in the evening before sunset.

When they slept at night, in the comfy bed at Sea View, he wrapped her close to his chest and curled around her, his arms caging around her. “What if I have to pee?” She giggled the first night.

“Then I guess you’ll have t’pee on me,” he shrugged through her laughter.

It was unspoken that they didn’t talk about his vacation ending very soon. The only time she left him alone was when she showered at Sun-Kissed Cabana. He cutely told her he missed her the moment she returned to his home away from home. “So full moon tonight?” He asked looking down at her face. Today they read with her head in his lap, her face turned toward his stomach at the moment rubbing her nose against his warm t-shirt. He combed his fingers through her hair focusing on his book.

She nodded, wrangling her phone from her pocket to in front of her face so she could look at the weather app on her phone. “Nine thirty,” she glanced at the weather, there should be no clouds or rain to ruin the evening.

“It’ll be cold, yeah?” He asked. She checked the temperature and nodded again in affirmation.

“Probably wear what we wore for the sunrise.”

“Oh, I love that outfit,” he said flirtatiously. She rolled her eyes and turned to lay flat back against her lap and stare up at him. He smiled while he finished the page he was reading. “What?” He hummed.

“You’re obsessed with sex.”

“Me?!” He cried throwing his book on the coffee table. “You’re the one moaning and pressing your bum up against me all night,” he reminded her and brought his face down to hers so he could kiss her repeatedly. She giggled as he pulled her upper body with him as he leaned back against the sofa. He pulled her close to him. He was obsessed with sex. But only with her it seemed. It was a billion to one chance he would me this angel this vacation. Another billion to one chance he would find her stunning and adore her immediately.  Of course, it was only another billion to one chance he would want to make her come so many times her legs would shake just walking three houses down when she needed something from her little cottage.

Ugh, he wanted to stay here forever.

“Love,” he said gently. She was busy tracing his eyebrows and running her fingertip over his eyelids while he was lost in thought about how obsessed with sex he was. “I leave in a few days,” he reminded her. She frowned almost instantly and nodded. Looked away from him, ducked her face so her lips pressed to his shoulder. He pressed a hand to the back of her head, rubbing his fingertips gently into the back of her skull.

“I know,” she mumbled against his skin.

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry was trying to figure out what to say. It certainly couldn’t be that he was in love with her. He would sound like an idiot. She was intelligent and beautiful. Just because he wanted to live between her legs didn’t mean he could go around saying he loved her after a week and a half. “I want t’be very clear, kitten. I really don’t want t’leave,” he kissed the side of her head. “S’been a very special vacation,” he promised. “S’because of you, y’know. I don’t want t’leave because you’re here,” he combed through her hair with his fingers and kissed the crown of her head once more.

She didn’t answer but Harry could feel a teardrop fall onto his shirt. He didn’t move from this position. Didn’t want to call attention to her sadness and make it worse. They would have these moments and they could figure out the rest when the time came.

*

They walked hand in hand, the pathway lit by the flashlights on their phones. They wore their sweatpants and long sleeve shirts and were barefoot as they walked the same beach path, they always walked to the lifeguard stand. Before they even got there, Harry was speechless. “Oh wow,” the moon was just over top the horizon and since he had only seen the sunrise once this vacation, he only had one way to compare to it. If it wasn’t for the dark sky, he’d have no clue it wasn’t the sun. It was breathtaking.

She smiled and turned her flashlight off to take a picture. Harry did the same, wrapping his arm around her as she did so he wouldn’t lose her for even a second in the dark. “Is anyone else here y’think?” He asked.

She shook her head, bumping against him. “Probably not; mostly kids around here with their families. They can’t stay up this late,” she giggled. She yawned. “Honestly, me neither. I was up so late last night,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “‘Harry, please, please, please let me come. Oh, it’s so good,’” he mocked. She jabbed her elbow into his stomach not hard enough to hurt but he kissed the side of her face. She ignored him, turned her flashlight back on, and pulled him toward the lifeguard stand. They sat in silence, watching the moon slowly rise into the sky. It looked enormous. Beautiful. He said it when he first got here, but he truly believed she was right that this was the most magnificent place on earth.

She was taking pictures and playing with the exposure and lighting in the settings as she tried to capture how beautiful it was. The moon was now almost at the point where it was illuminating the beach. If he listened carefully, he could hear the sound of vacationers calling attention to their partners to look at the sky from their porches and cabins and cottages.

Harry snapped a picture of her focused expression managing to get her profile superimposed on the moon in the background. She blushed, not that Harry could see it in the dark like this but still. She wanted to talk more about what all this meant. What they should or would do when he left. It was so hard, the second it crossed her mind, tears filled her vision and she had to swallow the rock lodged in her esophagus. How was she supposed to have an adult conversation with Harry about it when she couldn’t even get the words out?

Hearing him say how much this all meant to him was a good start. It made her anxiety lessen. Because this meant the world to her; it was rash, quick, and ridiculous to fall in love so easily. She felt like a Disney princess falling for the first guy she saw. While she wasn’t sure if Harry was in love with her—which would be a completely normal thing—she could rest assured that he at least cared about her in some capacity. “Y’okay, kitten?” He hummed into her ear, pressing his lips to her temple while she thought. “Can hear the gears turning from here,” he smiled against her skin.

She shook her head. “It’s crazy to me how fast the moon rises,” she said. Harry nodded in agreement.

“Let’s head back, s’getting cold and I want t’get y’out of these clothes,” he murmured into her neck.

Harry dropped from the stand first, climbing down so he could make sure she made it down without injury. Once on the sand, they paused, leaning against the frame to gaze at the moon more.

She was pretty certain it was her doing, but she would never admit that to Harry. But soon her hand was in his sweatpants, holding his dick in her hand massaging the length of it, pulling and tugging it to get harder and longer. “Kitten,” he groaned quietly.

It was extremely ridiculous for her to do something like this on a public beach. Even if it was late at night. The moment he groaned out her pet-name she felt her thighs press together. She swore she was soaked already, and they’d hardly even begun. “Something about sweatpants with you,” she mumbled as she pulled down her own to just to mid-thigh. Harry followed suit. “S’gonna have to be quick,” she whispered standing in front of him, reaching behind so his body would curve around her.

“Oh kitten, m’already ready t’burst jus’ at the thought of your pussy around me,” he promised and slipped himself inside her from behind. She moaned quietly as he began pumping into her, in and out. She loved the darkness, only the moon casting a low glow over them while it still rose higher in the sky. It provided a good cover in case anyone did happen to walk their way down here. She turned to the side, gripping the wood of the lifeguard stand as she bent forward more. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore disguised the sound of Harry’s skin smacking against hers.

“So good,” she whimpered. “Harry,” she cried. He gripped her hips pulling her back toward him as he pushed forward. It was a miracle she could have this many orgasms in only a matter of days. She had never tried before to have this many but was once more worried that she wouldn’t last one day without him, let alone a whole year before she would see him next summer. “Harry,” she whined again and grabbed his hand holding onto her hip.

“Yeah, love? Y’close already? Y’all excited and wet for me because we’re on the beach? Gotta be quiet for me, baby. When y’come. Don’t want anyone t’hear. All those noises y’make are for me, yeah?”

She was going to scream at the top of her lungs, and she didn’t care who heard her. “Your pussy is s’good. So wet. Feel y'gripping me,” he mumbled and grabbed he cheek of her bum with one of his hands. He pressed hard, certain he would leave little finger print bruises and he wished he could be gentler but this was so fucking hot he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Harry,” she whined again. “Please,” she begged.

“Y’can come, angel. Come as much as y’want. Come all over m’cock, please. Make yourself come all over me, love,” he moaned snapping almost brutally into her.

She whimpered as she did, her legs shaking almost to the point where she would have collapsed if Harry wasn’t holding her up. He continued to drive his dick up into her as he pulled her back toward him, so she was pressed to his torso. With a few more pumps he felt himself about to burst and alerted her. “Gonna come so hard, cause of you,” he groaned. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock just in time to catch all of him in her mouth. He shivered as her mouth worked over him and he pulled away and pulled her up as he did.

He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her tightly. “M’legs are tired.”

He nodded. “I know baby,” he cooed, pulling her pants up. He pulled his own up, catching a glimpse of the moon. “Do y’still have your phone?” She nodded mutely. Harry smiled, kissed her lips gently and then cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to the cottage.

*

They were two days and several hours away from Harry leaving. Her chest thought it was going to break open from the force of hiding her emotions. She was finishing getting fixed up after their walk and separate showers. Even though Harry did invite her. “We have to go to the store, you maniac,” she giggled as he tried to convince her with kisses down her throat.

“The store will be there in an hour.”

“S’never just an hour with you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Was that a complaint?”

“No, not even a little.”

No, they left the shower off their new kinky little bucket list for Harry’s vacation. Something to look forward to for next year. She was just finishing her hair when she heard the screen door. “Kitten?” He called.

“Bathroom!”

He stood in the doorway watching her put the final touches in her hair. He was grinning like an idiot. Like he had a secret. “Can we talk?” He asked.

She whipped around so fast to look at him and ask why he would ever say such a thing that she knocked her bottle of hair stuff onto the floor. She was lucky the lid to the toilet was closed where she had placed her towel from her shower, or she would be adding hair product to their grocery list since it merely bounced off the top of it. Harry’s mouth popped open, but she could see his eyes dancing in amusement.

“I should have picked a better phrase,” he nodded firmly.

She looked at him in shock. “Ya think?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “There’s...” he shook his head. “Jus’ c’mere,” he pulled her to her main room and flopped the pair of them onto the sofa. He brought his hands to her face, brought her to his lips and kissed her forehead, her nose, and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “M’going t’say a lot right now,” he told her. “Can y’be patient?” he asked. She nodded, nervously. Hopefully he would just treat it like ripping a Band-Aid off. “Y’have nothing t’be nervous about, love,” he promised kissing her forehead again.

“You’re making me anxious,” she said seriously. He chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I’ll start,” he smiled shaking his head. “I have immensely enjoyed this vacation. But even if I was trapped in the worst city in the worst home and you were there, I think I would have enjoyed it,” he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. It was starting off okay at least. “M’really heartbroken I have t’go,” he told her. “I didn’t even shower I was on the phone looking for another rental for every week this summer,” She smiled at that, feeling her eyes water. He swept his thumb below her eye seeing the tears appear.  “But m’friend Mitch called me too. His wedding is in early October. I...I wasn’t given a plus one originally, but he said I could have one. I told him all about you. In fifteen minutes. Mitch and Sarah were insistent at that point,” he told her. “I know s’not much. But I’d be able t’see you. And...I know s’like three months away...but it’s something right? Would y’go with me?”

She would see him again. She nodded. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was.

“And...we could video chat. Every day. Hell, love, I’ll apply to a new school, I jus’ want t’have you in m’life in some permanent way. I’ll spend every school holiday with you. We’ll spend all summer here, every year. I know—” She started full on sniveling, and she covered her mouth as he spoke. “You think m’nuts,” he frowned.

She nodded. “I do, but only because I am too,” she promised tearily. “I want all of that,” she agreed. Harry sighed with relief, bringing his thumbs across her cheeks once more to rid them of tears and kissing her deeply. It wasn’t quite like the kisses that led to him pulling all her clothes off, but it had almost as much passion.

“I promise, I don’t usually fall in love this quickly,” he admitted. Her lips parted at the L-word in surprise and Harry slapped a hand against his face. “Fuck...I mean...” he sighed shaking his head. “I think s’obvious given that I jus’ invited you t’a wedding after knowing y’for a handful of days,” he shook his head quickly like he was trying to rewire some of his neurons in hope of making sense again. “Sorry,” he tucked his face into his neck terrified he just ruined everything by telling a girl he knew for only ten days he loved her.

She giggled through her tears. “I... forgot I’ve had an orgasm...let alone had sex...literally ever...when I was dry humping your leg at the beach. I don’t think...this is very different than any...I don’t do this sort of thing,” she nodded in agreement. “I like you a lot,” she whispered at least she had enough sense to not say love—even if Harry thought she kind of wanted to say it back—and she did want to say it. “An embarrassing amount. I’m dreading having to say goodbye. Dreading the end of your vacation and at any moment I’m worried I’m going to invite you to stay with me, nearly a stranger, for the rest of the summer just so I don’t have to let you go,” she then pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. “Shit,” she muttered against them.

Harry chuckled, bit the inside of his lip glad she was speaking from her heart the same way Harry did. “Honestly, love? I would stay, if y’wanted me to.”

She flicked her eyes up to him. Adoring the green irises that were haunting every thought. “Yeah?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I...I think this might be the best vacation I’ve ever been on. Too bad y’don’t have an outdoor shower. S’where I’ve been imagining some really fun things ‘bout you.”

“Why imagine when you could have them? We still have two days.”

He moaned. “M’gonna fuck you with a Sea View,” he said pulling her to stand and all but racing back to his perfect little cottage home. Enjoying her giggles as he stripped her naked in the backyard along with him. Harry was eternally grateful to whatever powers that be he got this vacation spot with the beautiful goddess from Sun-Kissed Cabana all to himself.

And an outdoor shower.

--

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@pancakerry

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[wing-ed-thing]

Jean Kirstein Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 All around a fairly well-rounded partner who will treat you right in a simple, low-drama but loving relationship.

𓆃 Jean is the kind of guy who thinks he already knows it all, especially if it's his first relationship. Most of this has to do with his mom, who raised him "to be a gentleman."

𓆃 Buying chocolates, flowers, holding the door open, walking closest to the road on the sidewalk, and paying the bill to name a few, Jean has a strict list of behaviors that he's already designated as his to perform in a relationship.

𓆃 It'll surely throw him for a loop if you don't want him to do any of them, especially if your relationship leans on the more non-traditional side.

𓆃 But no matter the dynamic or how you present in a relationship, Jean continues to function with his own idea of "chivalry."

𓆃 Throwing your card or cash out to pay the bill on one of your first few dates will surely throw a wrench in your night.

𓆃 And it's not that Jean thinks that "you think he's weak" or is insecure that you might "have a higher income," but it comes more from the fact that he had a specific idea of how things were going to go and Jean isn't great at readjusting.

𓆃 He's upset and semi-moody the rest of the night because Mama Kirstein taught him that he's supposed to get the bill, but how the hell is he going to bring that up? He can't.

𓆃 Not to mention if his finances are a lot lower than he anticipated. He wants to pay, but who else isn't embarrassed by their card declining?

𓆃 He's not attached to an unhealthy extent to the concept of being a man (or masculinity in general), but it is very important to him and a part of who he is.

𓆃 While this correlated to physical strength and status to him in his youth, as he grows older, this will manifest as healthy self-grooming, confidence in his communication skills, and emotional sharing, using language that doesn't denigrate others, and strong and inclusive leadership skills.

𓆃 And it's important to note that Jean's idea of being a man also strongly correlates to taking care of and caring for you.

𓆃 He's especially skilled at baking, and prides himself on making meals for you. Whether it's baked goods for special occasions or little treats like breakfast in bed, Jean enjoys using his skill in the kitchen to surprise you.

𓆃 Even if his surprises are impractical. You might have to tell him that while some of his gestures are thoughtful, they aren't practical.

𓆃 Breakfast in bed means you have to change the sheets because crumbs got everywhere. His running you a nice bath with flower petals was thoughtful, but you had just seen the largest insect you had ever seen in your entire life and you think it ran to hide in the towels.

𓆃 He gets a bit down on himself the same way you paying for your date would. Where he almost sees it as a personal failure. That he wants to do nice things for you and it's embarrassing when he doesn't hit the mark.

𓆃 Jean has a bad habit of inadvertently taking this out on you by becoming quiet and pouting, making you regret saying anything. That's a conversation to have.

𓆃 And sometimes he's misguided about what he thinks is best: for you, for himself, and for both of you.

𓆃 Sometimes, he'll fixate on something "chivalrous" to an annoying extent.

𓆃 Perhaps he notices you're walking on the street side of the sidewalk, he might grab you by the shoulders and physically move you to the other side saying, "Nope, wrong side."

𓆃 That might be annoying to you, and you'll have to remind him multiple times to stop.

𓆃 That's one thing that might be concerning to you, is when he locks into something, he needs to be told multiple times before he actually listens to you.

𓆃 He also has a hard time setting boundaries with his mother, so hope you have a good relationship with Mama Kirstein.

𓆃 Overall, Jean clearly cares about you very much. He's just a little slow when it comes to change and admitting when one thing isn't the answer to everything.

𓆃 It might take you both some time to adjust to and communicate how you want your relationship to operate, but once Jean understands what you need, you'll never want for anything.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#jean x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirstein #jean #aot x reader #jean kirschstein headcanons #aot headcanons #aot headcanon #snk #snk x reader #x reader #x you #reader insert #aot x you #jean kirstein x reader #aot fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtien

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Reaper! Ghost (Part 2 of ?)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

You both agree that your being able to perceive him is impossible.  

He shouldn’t be anything to you but a distant future, an errant possibility when you cross the street, or, at worst, someone to curse at when a loved one is taken away.

But, despite all of it, you see him.  It should be impossible, but you can see him.  So that’s what you work with.    

And despite it all, he doesn’t struggle to convince you of who he is.  He doesn’t need to.  With the way he looks, with how he speaks…nothing about him is human or normal.  

Most importantly, nothing is normal about the way the doctors and nurses walk through him.  When you’re told about all your injuries, your surgery, the scars you’ll carry on your body from the accident, he averts his eyes, then walks to the window looking lost in thought.   

What does Death think about, you wonder.  And why is he here?

But you also have questions.

Whatever roils within him is kept suppressed, and when he answers you, it’s with gruffness and stoicism, barely speaking in full sentences.  He clears his throat a lot and his voice sounds hoarse.  

Disuse, you guess.  Who befriends Death, after all? 

He tells you that he wears dark jeans and a hoodie because he can, and that carrying a scythe is impractical.  He tells you he doesn’t know what comes after you die—it’s not like he can ask anyone—and his job is only to reap, and that the kiss of Death is real.   

That one makes you pause, then blush.  You hope it escapes his attention.

In hushed, stilted tones, you tell him about yourself.  He doesn’t say much, but his dark eyes are keen and sharp, and they hold your attention absolutely.  He doesn’t look away from you, not once, and at some point during the hours you speak, he sits on the visitor’s chair beside you.  An action so human, so normal, that it makes you falter mid-sentence.

You ask him, tentative and shy, if he’ll take his mask off.  He refuses immediately.  You’re not on his list, he insists.  He doesn’t know what would happen if you were to see the face of Death.  It’s safer this way.

You understand his hesitation,  you suppose, but it doesn’t mean you like it.

Over the next few days while you’re in hospital, you develop a tentative…friendship?  You’re not sure.  He’s strange—he doesn’t speak much, seeming to prefer silence, but he tries to answer any question you can think of.  And you think of a few.

Have you met any famous people?

What are the funniest last words you’ve heard?

Did you reap the first Homo Sapien?

That last question makes him jerk back in his seat.  He goes quiet for a while, looking down at his hands in his lap.  Having slowly become accustomed to what you affectionately refer to in your mind as Death’s Necessary Quiet Time, you pick up your discarded book.  You’re only through a few pages before he clears his throat.

“I wasn’ always…this.”  That's all he says for a moment, and you put your book down slowly.  “Used to–used to be someone.  A person.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but his shoulders drop and he leans back in his chair.  You suspect that it’s all he’s going to say on the matter, and you nod absentmindedly. It’s as you’d guessed.  

He has certain undeniably human mannerisms.  He blinks when you say something he didn’t expect.  He’d become unnaturally tense, jaw tight and a vein throbbing in his forehead when you’d hesitantly told him what you remembered from your accident.  Most human of all, though, is how is with you.  How his fingers twitch when he looks at your own.  How intently he looks at your lips.  How, despite being Death himself, the kind of force of nature that escapes comprehension with how absolute it is, he leaves the room to give you privacy when you need it.          

“Simon,” he says, suddenly,  looking as shocked as you do when the words leave him.  “My name is Simon.”

“Simon,” you whisper back, and he closes his eyes at the sound.  

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost au #fantasy au #Simon Riley imagine #ghost fanfiction #Reaper! Ghost #lumi writes

[sarahwroteathing]

Cozy Season

[Wanda Maximoff x Reader]

A/N: Just a little drabble about spending time at a harvest festival with Wanda. Nothing but happy, cozy vibes here. About 700 words

The day was cold and damp, overcast skies glowing a pale grey, not quite dark enough to threaten more rain, but close. Chill air swirled with orange, gold, and scarlet around you. Once brittle and crackling beneath your feet, the fallen leaves had gained a supple new life after the late morning rains. One stuck to Wanda’s jeans, framing itself with darkened denim as its collected rainwater soaked into the fabric. She didn’t seem to notice, too enamored with the paper cup of apple cider she cradled between her palms, smiling serenely as the fragrant steam bathed her face. 

“You made a friend,” you said, tapping her thigh just above the leaf. Soft orange veined with red. 

She hummed contemplatively before reaching down to peel it away.

“She loves me…” Wanda made a show of checking for more leaves, twisting to check her backside with a thoughtful frown. “Well, that was easy.”

“I can throw some more leaves at you if you’d like,” you offered.

“It’s too late now. The leaves have exposed you.”

“Damn.”

She giggled, looping one arm around your waist to tug you closer and raising the cider towards your lips in a silent offer. You reached up to stabilize the cup as you took a sip.

“We definitely need to buy a gallon of this before we leave.”

“And some of those tiny pumpkins,” Wanda added. “And something from the bakery stands.”

“Supporting local vendors is very important. I think we’ll also need fifty fancy soaps. Maybe some candles,” you said with a sage nod that set her laughing again.

Her smile was so wide and genuine, eyes sparkling with such unbridled delight, it made you want to hold her forever. And maybe that was a bit impractical, so you’d take what you could get, brushing a kiss over her cheekbone before leaning your head against hers. And you stayed that way, huddled together and communicating with soft voices and softer smiles until the cider was gone and the clouds parted enough to afford you glances of pale sunlight. 

There were picnic tables nearby, scattered loosely within the horseshoe of stalls selling everything from honey and jam to sweaters and ceramics. Families and friends settled there, happily chatting, sharing baked treats and admiring their more long-lasting purchases. 

An elderly lady held a newly-purchased sweater up against her son, nodding her satisfaction that it seemed the right size. A little girl showed off her new bracelet to her brother, who was adequately charmed by the tiny silver acorns. A few tables away, three teenage girls and two boys were trying to throw bits of kettle corn into each other’s mouths with single-minded focus, cheering for rare moments of good aim. 

“I love this,” Wanda said quietly, taking in the small harvest festival with a serene smile. 

“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” you sighed happily. “This was a great idea.”

“It is, but that’s not what I meant.”

When you looked to her in question, Wanda was taking advantage of the parting clouds, her face tilted up to catch the sunshine. Your heart gave a little flutter, and you reached out to loop a lock of her hair around your finger. 

“What did you mean then?”

Wanda looked down, smiling at the absentminded motions of your fingers in her hair. She gave a carefree shrug.

“Just… Thanks for being normal with me.” 

You gasped dramatically.

“How dare you call me normal.” 

She gave an inelegant snort, falling into you plaintively as you laughed at her reaction. She silenced you in her own lovely way, with lips still flavored by tart apple and warm cinnamon. 

“Does this mean you’re not going to cheat in the corn maze?” you whispered against her lips.

“It means I will consider not cheating in the corn maze.” 

The two of you lapsed into giggles again, giddy and nearly overwhelmed by the easy, cozy joy of the day. The sun’s valiant attempts to provide warmth despite the damp ground and chill wind did nothing half as well as Wanda, who almost seemed to glow in her contentment and tucked herself so tightly against you that it seemed she would be a permanent fixture there. 

And in this moment, that was exactly what you both wanted.

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

I hope October is treating you kindly, my friends. Let me know if you enjoyed this. My first time writing Wanda

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff drabble

[jimsbeetroot]

heated ♱ joey jordison

♱ i just don’t know if i can wait any longer ♱

smut

Joey pulled his mask off as soon as he entered the backstage locker room where he and his bandmates were taking a five-minute break before returning to the stage.

Y/N had been chatting with Scarlett by the side of the stage while they watched Joey and the band rock their guts out to fifty-thousand people.

It was Y/N’s third time going on tour with Joey. She’d pretty much been by his side since the start of Slipknot. Touring with Slipknot was great, but it sure as hell was not easy. Impractical was the best word to describe it.

First of all, Y/N and Joey had to share a bunk bed, which at first didn't seem like much of a problem considering they’d been a couple for over four years. But every now and again, one of them would accidentally elbow one another in the face, or worse. 

There wasn't much of an opportunity for the two to spend some quality time together either. Usually, a quickie in the bunk would have to do. 

Other than that, the tour had been going great. Y/N had been having fun with Scarlett, Corey’s wife while the boys were performing, and honestly, she was just enjoying the fact, that she got to spend everyday with Joey.

Joey sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, his legs wide spread open as he panted away from the exertion. Y/N made her way towards Joey and watched how his face lit up at the sight of her.

"Were we any good?" Joey asked, reaching down beside his chair to grab a bottle of water.

"Fuckin' killer," Y/N responded, and Joey winked at her response.

Y/N couldn’t deny it; Joey looked fucking hot.

His black hair stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed a faint red colour.

Y/N looked around the room. Everyone was too busy either talking or playing around to even pay attention to the two of them.

Smirking, she walked closer to Joey and sat down on his lap, her face facing his.

"Tonight, after you're done, I want you to fuck me," she whispered to Joey, who nearly choked on his water.

"What?" He asked, wiping his mouth and looking at Y/N.

She leaned closer to his ear, and her hand went down to his black jeans, straddling him just below the waistband.

"I said; I want you to fuck me after the show. So hard," 

Joey let out a shaky breath while one hand went to rub Y/N’s back and the other went to remove her straddling hand from his pants.

"All right! Time to get back on stage, guys!"

Joey's head shot up in the direction of the bands' manager.

"Congratulations. Now I have to go on stage with a boner," Joey said, genuinely sounding irritated as he pulled his mask on again and lifted Y/N off his lap. 

She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly swatted it away.

“No touching right now, Y/N,” Joey pointed at her and took a deep breath. “You’re fucking in for it,” Joey said through gritted teeth. She could see his eyes practically boring into her soul as he exited the room to go back on stage.

"He seemed a bit upset," Scarlett said, and Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I can't imagine why," she said, a naughty smile plastered upon her lips.

Throughout the whole show, Joey watched Y/N carefully, once in a while shaking his head in annoyance. She’d, in return, wave flirtatiously at him, blow kisses, and run her hands up and down her legs, carefully lifting her skirt up, making sure that only he would see her actions.

The band had waved their goodbyes to the hyper crowd, and before Y/N knew it, the boys were already backstage again. They all looked exhausted and drained from the concert, but not Joey. As soon as he'd entered backstage, he'd dragged Y/N by the wrist to his dressing room, the only place where there was a lock on the door.

"Forty-five minutes. For forty-fucking-five minutes, I had to perform with a boner. Do you even know how fucking frustrating that is?" Joey asked Y/N as he locked the door to his locker room and rested his forehead head against it.

"I can imagine," Y/N grinned, but Joey turned around swiftly, and Y/N noticed something about his eyes. They were...well, a bit scary.

He hadn't even had time to take off his mask before he'd rushed towards Y/N, pushed her against the wall and ripped her blouse open. She shrieked and watched as the buttons flew everywhere.

"That was my favourite shirt, Joey!" Y/N pouted.

"I'll buy you a new one," Joey shrugged and breathed against her neck. Y/N’s body jolted against his touch as his fingers made their way down her body, shivers running down her spine.

"I'm going to do exactly what you wished for," Joey whispered. Y/N gulped at his voice, her knees weak from excitement. Her hands went to the back of Joey’s head and pulled off his mask, throwing it across the room.

Her lips pouted for a kiss, and Joey happily obliged, pressing his lips against hers.

“How bad do you want it?” Joey asked against Y/N’s lips. She moaned in response, “really bad.”

The pair stumbled over to a table and Joey lifted Y/N onto it. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

His hands went to pull her shirt over her head, and he threw it away, his lips immediately attaching themselves to hers as soon as possible.

Y/N was quick to undo Joey’s belt. She didn’t care about foreplay, or the sweet romantic things they used to do. She wanted him, and it really couldn’t wait.

“Fuck me,” Y/N moaned into Joey’s ear. “Baby, I-I don’t have a condom,” he said and sighed, but nothing could retract Y/N from the state of lust she was in, not even that.

“I don’t care. You’ll figure it out,” she said and Joey chuckled nervously.

He pulled Y/N’s underwear to the side and ran his finger up and down her slit, checking to see if she was wet enough.

He slowly, but deeply pushed his way into her wet cunt and began thrusting quickly. Both parts knew, that they were short on time and they wasted no time.

Joey's face rested in the crook of Y/N’s neck and he moaned against her skin, while Y/N let her eyes roll into the back of her head, too overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Three minutes left!”

A roadie yelled from the outside and Y/N panicked, worried that there was not enough time for the both of them to finish.

“Joey, I-“

“Shhh, don’t worry about that, baby. Look at me,” Joey moaned and retracted his face from Y/N neck, looking deeply into her eyes.

An overwhelming sensation hit Y/N’s gut and she could barely focus on anything, except the pace of Joey’s thrusts, and how the paces kept switching.

“Joey, I-I think I’m gonna-“

Barely able to word out a sentence, Y/N was cut off by an orgasm so powerful, it went beyond the description of words.

When Y/N had come down from her high, Joey was quick to pull out and finish.

“Don’t ever give me a hard on right before a show again,” he warned and pointed his finger at Y/N, who put her hands up in defence.

“I’ll try!” She yelled as Joey excited the room to go and play the rest of the show.

#chris fehn #corey taylor #craig jones #james root #jim root #joey jordison imagines #slipknotimagines #slipknot x reader #slipknot fanfic #slipknot #joey jordison #mick mars #paul gray #sid wilson

[barid-bel-medar]

👀

“You’re the younger Iida brother, aren’t you?” an unfamiliar voice asks. 

Tenya looks over his shoulder at a man with dark hair and a scar across his face. He’s dressed in what Tenya thinks is a biking jacket and dark jeans. His knuckles are scarred up like he’s used to punching things. He’s not one of the teachers, and Tenya can’t figure out what he’s doing on UA’s grounds, but he must have permission to do so. 

The man snorts. 

“I’m here because I need to chat with All Might and Gran Torino,” he explains. Oh, Tenya guesses he must have changed his expression in some fashion. 

“Who are you?” he can’t help but ask. Maybe a police contact like the detective who pulled All Might aside earlier this week?

“Oguru Iwao. I’m a retired pro-hero,” he says. “I took an…injury a few years back that meant it was impractical to stay in pro-heroics.” He stands next to Tenya. 

“You probably used to know me as O’Clock.”

Tenya chokes, because he recognizes that name for two reasons. 

First, because he’d followed any speedster hero based in Japan when he’d been little, including O’clock. He’d been so disappointed by the man’s sudden and secretive retirement. But he also knows the name because of something Tensei let slip, even if Tensei wouldn’t admit why he knows it.  Namely, that the hero formerly known as O’clock is also the vigilante known as Knuckleduster.

#words may hurt #sticks and stones #think before you speak

[atimeofyourlife]

A royal escape

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: royalty au | rated: t | wc: 1000 | tags: trans Steve Harrington, trans masc Steve Harrington, royal Steve Harrington, royal au Steve is better known to the world as Princess Stefania, but he wants to live as the man he knows he is. With the help of his best friend, Robin, and Eddie, an acquaintance of hers, he finally gets the chance.

Steve hated almost everything about his life. And he knew it sounded incredibly entitled, from the outside it looked like he had the perfect life, as the Princess of Upside. But it was what the public didn't see that made him so miserable. The way he couldn't live his life as the man he knew he was. The way his father ruled every second of his life with an iron fist. At times it felt like he couldn't have a drink of water or use the bathroom without his father's approval. It made him dream of the chance to escape, to be free.

His chance came during a royal tour. A stop in a small town close to the border with the two neighboring countries, Hawkins and Lenora. When his father was less focused on him and more focused on showing a good face to the public. At a time they were all dressed down, to try to prove that they were normal people, just like everyone else. But it also made it easier for Steve to blend in. When his parents, the staff, and most of the crowd weren't looking, he was able to slip through the throngs of people and broke into a sprint as he reached the other side, thankful that, for once, he had been allowed to wear jeans and sneakers instead of impractical skirts and painful heels. He had his route planned out in his head, having spent weeks pouring over maps, with the excuse that he wanted to learn about the places they were visiting, figuring everything out with Robin, a musician who had played for the family, and his only friend. He snatched the backpack Robin had hidden for him, quickly pulling out the items that were to be his disguise. A massively oversized hoodie, to hide what he was wearing and his figure, and a hat for him to tuck his long hair into. He would have much preferred to have the chance to change fully, and even cut his hair. But time was of the essence, he needed to get away before anyone started looking for him.

As he ran, he started looking out for the getaway driver Robin had arranged for him. She'd given a clear description of a dirty white van that was to pick him up away from the center of town. He spotted it idling on the other side of the road, and just sprinted straight across.

"Are you the guy Robin sent?" He asked through the open window, getting a good look at the man in the driver's seat.

"Sure am. Hop in." The guy said.

"Thanks." Steve climbed into the passenger seat, and the van was moving before he'd even shut the door behind him.

"I'm Eddie, by the way. Let's get you out of here."

"Steve."

"I know, Robin told me everything. We'll be crossing into Lenora first before going to Hawkins, to help keep the border guards off your trail. You'll need to hide in the back before we reach the border, help keep the suspicion down." Eddie explained.

Steve just nodded, unable to form a response. He sat for a few minutes in the passenger seat, trying to catch his breath from the running and the adrenaline of the escape. When he felt a little more normal, he let Eddie know before climbing into the back, hiding among a pile of boxes and blankets.

Steve was aware when they reached the border, as Eddie's driving slowed down into a very stop and start motion. He held his breath when there was a tap on the window.

"ID and purpose of the visit?" A guard asked.

"Running errands. My uncle needed some stuff picked up, I need some stuff from Lenora, so I killed two birds with one stone and made a day of it. I'll be heading home from Lenora tonight." Eddie explained, and Steve was surprised at how smooth it was.

"Mind if we check the back?"

"Sure thing."

Steve held his breath as he heard movement, not wanting anything to give away his presence. He could see a small amount of light streaming in through a gap as the back doors opened, and could only wait anxiously.

"Everything seems alright." The guard said. "You're free to go."

Steve let out a sigh of relief as the rumble of the van moving started up again. He stayed in position for a few more minutes, until Eddie said that it was safe. He crawled out from the back, and pulled himself back into the passenger seat of the van.

"I just need to grab some stuff, then we'll be heading into Hawins. You won't have to worry about the border here, the guards are much more chill." Eddie said. "Then it's on to the first day of the rest of your life. Robin will meet us in a few days."

The first morning staying with Eddie, everything felt strange. He'd met Eddie's Uncle Wayne, who didn't seem to care that Steve had appeared without an explanation. It was the getting up when he wanted to, not having to dress up before leaving the bedroom, instead going downstairs in his borrowed pajamas. Eddie and Wayne were already up when he went down.

"Morning, Steve. Coffee's in the pot if you want some." Eddie called.

"Thanks." He mumbled, shuffling over to the kitchen. He poured the coffee, and gulped half of it down. It wasn't the best coffee, but the freedom made it taste better than any other.

He joined Eddie and Wayne, and his attention was caught by the news on the tv.

"Back to the main story. Princess Stefania of Upside went missing yesterday during the royal tour. The current belief is she was kidnapped-" the tv shut off.

"It's okay." Eddie whispered, squeezing Steve's hand.

"Don't worry about anything, Steve. You're gonna be safe here." Wayne added.

And there was something about their sincerity, their warmth, that made Steve believe them.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #pre steddie #platonic stobin #trans steve harrington #transmasc steve harrington #steddieholidaydrabbles #royal au #atimeofyourwrites

[shitty-mechs-headcannons]

all of ivy’s pants have book-sized pockets. very convenient for on-the-go reading!!

either she has them custom made or she makes them herself (or perhaps a secret third option: she just has a knack for finding clothes Like That)

she also hates jeans and the like because their pockets are so shallow

(another idea i had for this was a comically large fanny pack for books but that would just be impractical)

all of the above

-mod fen

#the mechanisms #shitty mechs hc #ivy alexandria #mod fen

[s-sugustar]

ʬʬ: ̗̀➛ synopsis: You could never be happy.

ʬʬ: ̗̀➛ pairing: Modern! Eren Yeager x black! fem! reader

ʬʬ: ̗̀➛ cw: death, angst

ʬʬ: ̗̀➛ author's notes: took me about an hour to write this or less -. not proofread, oh and first fic since i’ve deleted everything from before .

I'm scared

Eren knew he was going to die soon. His health wasn't getting any better but he tried. No matter how much medication he took, or treatments he had, the cancer was not going away anytime soon.

He hated himself for not seeing the signs, not paying attention to how quickly he'd lose his breath or how he'd cough up blood once in a while. He always talked about how he wanted to die young and well, quite unfortunate but he got what he thought of constantly.

Eren knew you hated hospitals for a long time, even when you had a skating accident a couple of years back, they had to sedate you before taking you to the hospital because you fought with everything in you not to go.

The slow beeping of monitors or the scrubbed tiles that reeked of bleach just reminded you of death in some instance. Or maybe it was because it was the place your mother died when you were six. She had a heart problem, the doctors never stated what it was; all they did was kept it brief with you and your father.

You cried that day, the one person you had been extremely close with. The one you made cookies with every Saturday night to take to church on Sunday. The one who read you 'Princess and the Frog' every single night till you knew the story word for word. She was your rock, the one who shushed you when you fell and others had laughed but she, oh she told you that it was okay, and she kissed the bandage every single time.

In the back of my mind, you died

When Eren told you the news, everything around you slowed. The ticking of the old wall clock became slower, the hairs on the back of your neck raised and with the blink of an eye, you were back in the same hospital room when they covered your mother's dead body with a white cloth. Only this time, it wasn't your mother, but it was Eren.

When you got away from your thoughts, you looked back to him in fear and hurt. Seems like the universe wasn't on your side anymore, if at all. Although you barely cracked a smile towards him, you knew he could see past everything you had built up. "I'm sorry y/n."

Work was quiet when Eren wasn't around, and silence was something you didn't like. You saw Jean and Connie every day at work and you enjoyed their company, truly, but you felt as though something had been missing. You knew what it was but you refused to acknowledge it too. When you first visited him, it had been the 6th of November, outside was bright but chilly in contrast to how the room you were in felt.

You felt squeezed, hopeless and everything within the room was making you sick but you stayed, just for him. You saw how much paler he had gotten when he was first admitted, the bags under his eyes seemed to darken than before and well his breathing...he needed a mask wherever he went. He was in pain and there was nothing you could do about it, just like your mother.

It was inevitable but you knew he wouldn't be here much longer, so you stopped visiting him. Afraid that it may be the last time you'd see him. Although impractical, you thought it was best, especially after the last visit.

"The doctors said that there isn't much they can do now." He whispered, his head laid in your lap as you drew small shapes onto his shaven head, somewhat soothing the both of you as you heard the words that fell from his lips and his reaction to what he had said. You paused in your administrations causing Eren to look you full in the eyes, a distant look in his eyes. You stared at him, contemplating what to say but he had beat you to it.

"I wish we had more time together, just you and I. I wish things didn't end up this way because I know how scar-." You couldn't bear to hear the rest of what he had to say so you shut him up with a kiss. Sinking deep making him whine in desperation for more. After pulling away, Eren sat up before reaching under his pillow to hand you something, a letter to be exact. You looked at him in confusion before he answered, "I want you to open it the day after my funeral."

and I didn't even cry, not a single tear

The funeral was short or at least it had been for you. You couldn't bear to look at him lying peacefully in the casket, you just couldn't. You barely had anything left in you after you said what was laid on your heart to say. It was too much for you to handle, so much so that right after your speech, you walked out, not looking back as you headed to your car in tears.

You laughed on the way home, wasn't funny how gloomy and quiet outside had been? Some say that the earth could feel when we lost someone. Oh, the irony. The trees didn't sway from left to right nor did the sunshine. Quite the opposite you'd say. When you made it to your room, the first thing you did was glance at the letter that had been sitting on your desk since your last visit; the last time you saw him. You couldn't wait till tomorrow to open it so you took it out now.

I wonder what the letter said.

#eren yeager x black reader #eren jaeger #x black reader #eren angst #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan angst #eren yeager x reader angst #— 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 ! #— 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓! #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n #black y/n #black reader #— 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ✧

[octuscle]

"Baggage Claim"

Hey! Is DEL still available?

Sorry, but the only other thing I can offer you is a case from ATL. Far less exotic. But also completely impractical for you. What the hell are you supposed to do with fishing equipment. In your whole life you have never fished. And you're certainly not going to sit down on the Hudson River. You don't want to eat what's swimming in there anyway. Well, the chain is cool. You can wear it sometime… But now you should worry less about the suitcase and more about the presentation for your next appointment.

Your colleagues and also your customers are a bit irritated that you constantly include any comparisons in your presentation, in which it is about fish, hunting or the like. But otherwise it was a good appointment, the customer has concluded the contract. A reason to celebrate. The first thing you do when you enter the bar is to take off your tie. Man, you really can't breathe with that stuff on. And while the others toast with sissy stuff like Negronis and gin and tonics, you order yourself a big beer. You drink it all in one go. And order a second one. The burp was world class. You grin broadly. Your colleagues ask if you've still got it all together. Sure thing, you answer, but now you have to piss first.

On the toilet you take your cock out of your lucky jockstrap. You've always worn it to important football games in college. The piece is completely filthy. Huhuhu, that's me too, you think. How long ago was college, anyway? A year? You shake it off and stow your dick again, buttoning your not-quite-clean jeans and fastening your belt with the monstrous belt buckle representing a Southern flag. Scratching your three-day beard, you wonder where in the middle of Manhattan your boots always get so dusty. Never mind, you need another beer. Your colleagues keep their distance from you. They never understood why you, the hick, got the internship. Hey, you didn't want the job and you didn't want to go to New York. You just don't belong here. So you leave the would-be masters of the universe alone and go to the river. That's where you feel most comfortable in this jungle. You snot your chewing tobacco into the river and go back to your guesthouse. The sooner you are in bed, the better.

Before you start your job at da bank, you have to help your yo pops feed da animals. Your ma haz already prepared uh gud breakfast for you. But now da corduroy jacket over your lumberjack shirt n off to da office. Some of your neighbors need uh loan for new farm machinery. You're glad you let your grandma convince you to go to college. But you're even happier that you came home afterwards. Running da local branch of da bank is all you can ask for. Here, folks don't care if your hair is uh little longer in da back. Old steve haz been cutting your hair all his life, so as long as he lives, let him keep doing it.

Yawl know chur paypul. Few know thet naw wun iz comin' tuhday, yawl can gist close thuh store. An hif sumpn happens, everyone has chur number or at least chur dad's number. Thay can gist cawya. Yawl don't feel lahk it anymore after yawl negotiated thuh loan. Yawl celebrate thuh closin' now with uh beer on thuh boat. Let's say hif thuh fish bite. 

#male tf #reality change #redneck tf #age reduction

[writersblockiskillingme]

Timezone | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x female!reader

Summary: As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind.

Warning/s: Language (maybe like one curse word that is repeated two to three times), mention of smut (but not explicit), Google translate

Author's note: Here is another Damiano song imagine I hope you like it. I might make one with Thomas Raggi very soon 🤫

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I sew your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm loosing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Damiano has had enough. The fame felt too much and the videocalls, phone calls and messages weren't enough anymore. He was practically pulling his hair out as he continued to mindlessly walk around his hotel room. His completely empty hotel room. He looked at his perfectly made bed and at his perfectly sorted out clothes in the closet and Damiano was finally, officially done. He couldn't take this torture anymore.

He strolled mindlessly to the big window of his hotel room as his eyes roamed around the busy streets of LA. People were rushing everywhere and Damiano realized that they were completely obvious to his suffering. He thought it was unfair.

He roughly ripped the cigarette out of the back pocket of his jeans. As he went to light up the cigarette it begin to accur to him that sun was still shining brightly in the middle of the sky. He realized that the moon must be keeping company to his beloved. Not that you were probably enjoying the darkness that the moon swept in, he thought. You must be still deep in your sleep considering the fact that it was probably middle of the night where you were right now. As Damiano opened the window and stepped onto the balcony he let himself enjoy the bright rays of sunshine on his bare back. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked towards the sun. It was shining so bright that Damiano was pretty sure that it was mocking him. He knew that it was mocking him. The sun was pure reflection of his life right now. It was shining on him so brightly, but it also reminded him that you are not in the same position as he is right now. He was covered in sunshine yet you were bathing in moonlight. It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he threw away the cigarette and returned to the room closing the window behind him. Empty room remained him not only of you, but also that his band mates were out right now. Damiano was pretty sure that they went out partly because of his constant whining about not being able to do more that to just see your gorgeous face over FaceTime. It wasn't his fault that he was whining about it constantly, he thought. Those calls were sometimes quite impractical, anyways. For one, he couldn't touch you. He could only watch your beauty from far away. He couldn't smell your sweet scent. Your shampoo. Your perfume that he sometimes liked to steel away just so that he could smell like you (it was fine you did it with his perfume, too). He knew that Vic, Thomas and Ethan were practically sick of him now because he was talking so much about you. Ethan thought that he looked like a tortured puppy whenever Damiano mentioned how much he misses you. You were talking to everyone on the band, too and Ethan knew that you were like that, too.

In fact, everyone got so worried for you two because as time went by and you two spend much more time away from one another it looked like you both started to not take as much care for your well-beings as you did before. Everyone saw how much this long distance affected both Damiano and you. Thomas barely stopped Vic from buying Damiano tickets back to Italy (you moved there with him) one hour before the show so he could see you.

Damiano was done. But he couldn't help himself. He just kept calling you when the moon is shining in LA, when some people were asleep like dead and some people were partying until they die. He just wanted to hear your voice yet he knew that everytime he calls you, you can hear desperation in his rough voice. Damiano was very well aware that he was slowly loosing his mind. Especially when it was night where you were and you were deep in your sleep. He didn't want to disturb you, so he somehow managed to gain some self control and not call you then. It was all right, though. You were loosing your mind, too.

He took one more look at his perfectly made up bed and knew what was missing.

If you two weren't apart, you would be sprawled out on the bed, bare back facing the door, hair messed up, face pressing into the pillows, deep in sleep after the passionate activities that him and you took part in the night before. His whole hotel room was mocking him. He knew that very well. All this torture... it took everything in his willpower to not run to the airport and never let you go from his arms.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck that I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

"So how is the tour going?" Your slightly raspy voice asked him.

It was an early morning in Italy and you just woke up from your slumber. In fact, you were still in bed. On the other hand, Damiano has been awake for hours. It was still dark outside and he put his laptop outside on the balcony on the fresh LA air. God knows he needs it.

"It's good." Damiano told you. "It's good..." He repeated slowly as he finally blew out another little cloud of smoke from yet another cigarette.

The way he repeated his answer seemed like he was just trying to convince himself that everything was perfect, that everything was just the way he imagined it to be. But you knew better. You knew he was hiding something and you were pretty sure that you could guess what it was.

"What is wrong, amore?" You asked him and for a moment, when Damiano looked back from the night sky to the screen, he felt himself freeze.

He knows that you are beautiful, but the way that you smiled sadly at him and the way that one piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes, he was once again hit with the feeling of loneliness. It painted him greatly because even though he can se your breathing smile and hear your melodic voice, it wasn't the same. You weren't really there with him. For a bare moment he didn't say anything, you figured that that would happen. So you went on.

"I know when something is wrong." You told him and he started to deeply stare in your eyes, you felt like he was staring into your soul. It was truly curious considering the fact that you had a videocall. "Your eyes start to drop in a certain way. They get more serious." You continued, your voice softening with every word you said and he noticed that. He always does. Just like you always do, too.

"The tour is going amazing. Vic, Tom and Ethan are amazing like always. But you know what is wrong." Damiano took another hit from the cigarette and quickly blew another cloud of smoke out of his mouth. He started to smoke more. You noticed that fact after your 50th call this week. He started to smoke more then he usually does and you could partly guess why.

"You're right. I do know." You sighed as you rubbed your hands over your face. In return, he turned his concerned eyes back to you. "It's killing me, too. I feel like I can't do it anymore either." You admitted to him. He let his hand run through this hair as he put out the cigarette with his other hand. You could just watch how he smashed it in the ashtray angrily.

"I miss you so much it hurts." Damiano heard himself admit this to you for like the millionth time today. "I just want you to be back in my arms. I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't want to."

"Me neither."

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I'll pay double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Victoria, Thomas and Ethan watched Damiano with great concern as he continued to practically pull his hair out. Their manager just told them that they have to stay in LA for one more month. Not one more day. Not one more week. One more MONTH. Måneskin was supposed to leave in three days back to Italy, but the plan changed. This news added the fuel to the fire that was already actively burning. And that was enough for Damiano finally explode. The rest of the band barely stopped Damiano from nearly ripping the manager's head right of off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong. Damiano loved this tour and he loves his band more than anything. But he was supposed to finally go back in your arms and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to leave them, but his plans and hopes were now officially crushed, burned to the ground.

"Questo è tutto! Me ne sto andando! Non mi interessa nemmeno più questo. Voglio solo vederla per almeno un giorno." ["That's it! I'm leaving! I don't even care about this anymore. I just want to see her for at least a day."] He yelled out and Vic jumped up to her feet before she gave him a bone crushing hug. "Non posso più farlo, cazzo." ["I can't fucking do this anymore."] Damiano whispered as he gripped on Vic's hair. Victoria let her hand run down his back as she hugged him tightly. It painted her to see one of her best friends in this state. Suddenly, she let go of her, gripped Damiano's shoulders as she started to yell, too.

"Che cazzo stai aspettando?! Vai a trovarla per un giorno e dille che ci siamo salutati!" ["What the fuck are you waiting for?! Go and see her for a day and tell her that we said hello!"] Damiano looked at her in shock as Thomas and Ethan joined them, nodding.

"Sì! Amico, smettila di deprimerti e vai dalla tua signora." ["Yeah! Dude, stop moping around and go see your lady."] Thomas said. Thomas' confirmation along with Victoria's and Ethan's nodding was enough for Damiano to turn the entire hotel room upside down.

He pulled out his suitcase out of nowhere and started to pack. He was moving so fast and so much that the rest of the band thought that he's going to give them a headache. The point is, he didn't care what he put in in his suitcase. He packed just a few essential stuff, anyways. His mind was already with her, back in Italy, and it was the only thing that was important to him. It was safe to say that he was in and out before anyone could say anything else. And so, with one group hug and quickly exchanged "good bye"s and "have a safe flight"s, Damiano was off.

Practically running down the hall so he could get to the elevator and out of the hotel. He ran out on the busy street of LA and somehow managed to get a cab very quickly. He was extremely excited and kind of nervous. Damiano figured that he simply couldn't wait to get to the airport. The moment that the cab stopped, Damiano practically threw the cash at the driver and ran inside the airport, his suitcase stumbling behind him. Once he finally got into his flight he slumped down on his seat. He just couldn't wait do be home. And the waiting really paid off.

Damiano felt like his heart was going to burst its way out of his chest as he took a look at the building of your shared apartment. The flight was too long and he was just happy to be back. He knocked on the door after he went up the stairs and he was suddenly face to face with your sleepy eyes and your bright smile when you saw who was knocking on the door. Before any of you could get a word out you brought one another into a bone crushing hug. You started to cry in each other's embrace. You missed the way his arms were wrapped around you, you missed the way he always sounded so breathless when he joyfully laughed, you missed the way his eyes were shining, you missed him. He missed the way you smelled like the sweetest candy the way your eyes stared deep into his soul, he missed the feeling of your skin, he missed the beating of your heart. He missed you, too.

"You're home." You let out a soft sob as you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping on him tightly. You felt his arms tighten around you, too afraid to let you go, too afraid that either of you is going to dissappear.

"I am home. At last."

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