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#the timing suggests it's def to the ''its the only way he can beat you'' part
slvt4elliew · 5 months
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ellie hcs!
cw: ellie x afab!reader, established relationship, 2 idiots in love, mentions of drinking, explicit language, 18+ near the end, switch! ellie, lots of mentions of sex at the bottom, mdni or i'll find u :3
a/n: hiii! this is my first time writing so...ntm cuz it kinda sucks. idk what i'm doing so suggestions would be great! thank u 4 reading! mwah mwah mwah 💋
loves calling you random stupid nicknames. "hey, honey bunches of oats, could you come here rq?" "im sorry, what the fuck did you just call me?"
loves when you paint her nails or do her makeup, even if she complains the whole time. "ugh, this feels so gross." "c'mon, it's just lipgloss el."
BAGGY CLOTHES 🔛🔝!! her wardrobe consists of big dad jeans, random thrifted graphic tees, a shit-load of flannels, wife pleasers, sweatpants, plaid pj pants, goofy ass socks, and her one pair of beat up converse.
practically smothers you in kisses, think gomez from the addams family. forehead kisses, neck kisses, kiss on the cheek, on your shoulders, literally everywhere.
only wears childrens boxers. shes got a collection of 'em. im talking teenage mutant ninja turtles, minecraft, fortnite, SPIDERMAN, batman, dinosaurs, glow is the dark stars, etc. sometimes she'll wear the simple plaid ones tho.
she thinks shes soo good at dancing when she drinks, like she acts like shes hot shit when she just looks goofy. "babe. babe. baby, look. look at me." and when you look over she starts doing what she thinks is moon walking... its hilarious actually.
so so so clumsy. girl can't walk in a straight line to save he life. shes constantly tripping over air, and her untied shoe laces. you even made a T chart to keep score. rn its ellie 0 : air 22
always has a hand on you. you're sitting next to her? shes either pulling you into her lap or has a hand resting on your thigh. walking together? has to be holding your hand. she's in the middle of talking with someone else? a cold hand sits on your lower back, her thumb drawing soft circles to remind you shes still paying attention to you.
her hands and feet are SO cold. while laying next to her watching a movie or something, she slips a hand up your shirt to just rest it on your stomach but you squeak and flinch away from her FREEZING hands. you swear shes cold blooded
speaking of which, she loves slipping her hands up into your bra to 'warm up her hands'. whenever she asks you, you obviously allow her even though you know she'll sneakily start pinching at your nipples or squeezing your tits.
literally the funniest person ever. she can always make you laugh with her randomness and how stupid she can act. it also doesn't help that she knows you like the back of her hand so she knows what makes you nearly cry from laughing so hard. she just gets so much joy from seeing you laugh, even if it's at her. she'll do anything to see you smile.
loves cuddles!!! she has to have weekly movie nights where you both cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie.
treats you like a queen, girl is on her knees bowing down to you. does whatever you ask, you want water? done. your hungry? shes already ordered food. on your period and need stuff? shes already in the car, driving to the store. "whatcha need, pretty girl? it's okay, i can go get it."
loves you so so so much. you're her fav girl ever, she'll do absolutely anything for u.
NSFW!!
shes def a switch. bae can switch up so fast
black, 8.5 inch, slight curve, and has veins.
constantly praising you. "fuck. doin' so good for me, baby. yea, that feel good?" "yeah- just like that..."
she says the dirtiest shit ever "you gon' be a good little slut for me, hm? yea? c'mon use your words, baby." "you wan' me to fill ya up, wan' me to make u a mama?" "yeah? you like that shit? course you do, such a fucking slut, huh?"
CRAZY STAMINA. she can go for hours if you'd let her. doesn't even think about cumming herself until you've came at least 3 times. "c'mon baby, you can give me another, yeah? i know you can... you're being so good for me, one more?" "nghh can't...i-its too much." "you can baby, just one more, c'mon..."
lovesss doggy style. "all fours on the bed. now." her grip on your hips is bruising, leaving light purple marks in the morning which she'll press soft kisses to as an apology. usually has one hand on your hip so she can thrust harder into you and another in your hair, either pushing your face into the pillows or pulling your head back so she can see your fucked out face.
has the worst case of ghost-dick when shes not sober, just fucking desperately humping your ass.
if shes fucking you with her fingers, she always either sucks them clean herself or has you do it, shoving her long fingers into your mouth, sometimes purposefully making you gag on them.
she also def likes it when you suck her strap. she doesn't even care if she cant actually feel it, the harness slightly bumping against her clit and seeing how you look up at her is enough for her.
biggest tease!! rubbing slow and light circles over your clit, just enough to make you squirm and whine at her. "you wan' more? nu uh, you gotta say it."
basically makes you sit on her face, wrapping her arms around your thighs and pulling you down on her face, keeping you there. she doesn't even care, she wouldn't gladly die like that.
usually dom but can be very subby.
if you don't let her touch you shes whining and begging for you to let her. "fuck- please, baby. i'll make you feel so good, j-just..shit- please.."
used to be very shy about you eating her out but has grown more comfortable w it. "aghhnn just like that...fuck, doin' so good for me."
already starts panting and whimpering when you only barely touch her. the small kitten licks you make up her slit has her squirming and bucking her hips upward in search of more friction.
SO GOOD AT AFTERCARE!! if she's being mean, she'll immediately drop the act and cover your worn-out body in soft, loving kisses. then she'll go get a wet wash cloth and wipe you and herself off before carelessly throwing it somewhere in the room. she'll then snuggle up with you in the bed, cuddling your warm body from behind and peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses while you drift off.
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angy-mouse · 2 years
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A Day in The Life of A Live-In-Whore Volume 1
Just a handful of drabbles that couldn't be turned into a full fic but I thought were still really cute. Only gets suggestive at best but its def. part of the series so posting here
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Boobas
"That sounds like cheating," you said.
"I'll take you to Dave and Buster's," Sapnap said.
"Deal," you said.
And so, when the time was right, here you were slinking around your own house, creeping through the halls and listening for your cue. "Now!"
You threw open the door to Dream's office and tossed your bra at him. He fluidly caught it in one hand and threw it on his head like a pair of aviator goggles before his hand returned to the mouse. "Thanks, babe," he grinned as you stared dumbfounded.
"Mother fucker would rather beat Minecraft than look at my tits," you muttered to yourself shamefully. "I used to have standards."
Boobas 2 (they're better in pairs)
"If we're not going out today, I'm taking my damn bra off," you mused, reaching for the clasp.
George threw his hands in the air, nothing but a ball of fluffy brown hair and two arms poking up from the couch. "TAKE DEM TITTIES OUT 'CUZ I'M TRYNA SEE 'EM-"
"WE HAVE NEIGHBORS!"
Did you know?
"Hey," George mumbled against your stomach. You lifted your shirt to look at him, resisting the urge to make fun of his messy hair from burrowing.
"Hey,"
"Did you know…"
"Know what?"
He pressed his lips to your pale stretch marks. "I think you're pretty cute."
"Oh yeah? Well, did you know…"
His lips stretched into a lazy, cheshire grin. "Yeah?"
"Your hair looks like a bird's nest."
His grin fell as he glared up at you. "I hate you."
You simply giggled. "Aw, come on, babe, you- AH, NO, NO RASPBERRIES!!"
Insta-Offish
Sapnap hummed with a lazy smile as you climbed onto his lap, big hands supporting your hips to help you not tip over his gamer chair. “Hey, sugar,” he purred happily as you pressed your lips to his. “Mmmm, this feels like an ‘I want something’ kiss,” he muttered against your lips, giggling when you shamefully pulled away.
“Maybe,” you muttered, tracing your lips along his scruffy jawline. “What would you say… to taking a picture… of your hands as my bra… for my insta?”
He leaned his head back with a purr as you traced his adam’s apple. “... Can I print it out for my wallet… maybe another to put in my cap?”
You smiled wide. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”
Bedtime
“It’s bedtime,” you insisted, arms crossed leaning against the doorway.
“We’re in the middle of coding,” Dream insisted, George’s sounds of agreement coming from the computer and the office down the hall. There was no arguing with Dream, he always got his way. It’s a good thing you’re a master manipulator.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” you hummed, sliding out of your sweatpants and kicking them at Dream. You sauntered down the hall, shedding your shirt in front of Sapnap’s open door and your bra in front of George’s. You turned around when you reached the bedroom door, smiling innocently at the three sets of wide eyes poking out of their offices. “Night, boys,” you chirped, putting a purposeful bounce to your step as you continued into the room, grinning evilly as you heard three pairs of feet pounding the floor. “Works every time.”
Ostrich Chair
"What the fuck did you buy," George scoffed, sipping a glass of vodka as he watched you and Dream unpack your latest package.
"It's an ostrich chair," Dream laughed as you happily wiggled in anticipation.
"It's the best thing ever," you declared, ripping the plastic off and unfolding the beach chair looking contraption.
"Looks like a beach chair."
"It's got a stretchy bit and a head hole, so- yeah," Dream trailed off as you laid face down on the fabric, cushion supporting your face like a massage table and the stretchy material accommodating your breasts.
"Oh my god, I haven't laid on my front since middle school," you groaned, feeling your spine straighten out.
"How much did you pay for that thing?"
"Shut the fuck up, no tits no opinion."
Betrayal
"I can't believe you'd do this to me," Dream forced out, a lump building in his throat. "Has all our time together really meant so little to you? You'll leave me just like that? Jump on the first person that comes along?"
"She's a god damn cat, stop being dramatic," you huffed, letting Patches keep kneading your lap.
"SHE'S MY GOD DAMN CAT AND SHE'S A TRAITOR!"
Another Betrayal
“What the fuck is this?”
You flailed uselessly in Dream’s headlock as Sapnap scrolled through your YouTube. “Listen, I don’t-”
“Technoblade, Mithzan, YourPalRoss,” he read out, “Fact Fiend, Game Theory, Film Theory, Food Theory-”
“Those hot wing videos were a bop, don’t even.”
“Not a single video from any of our channels?!”
“I listen to you dipshits in person every day!”
“DO YOU EVEN LOVE US?”
“FUCK YOU!”
The Stretch™
“God, my back hurts,” Sapnap groaned to himself. Your eyes wandered over to him just in time to watch his arms stretch up to the ceiling, shirt lifting to expose the soft planes of his stomach, thick line of coarse hairs leading into the blue band of his boxers, two or so inches of the fabric above his shorts.
“... Can I suck your dick?”
He started at that, ears turning red as he froze mid-stretch. “W-What?”
“I wanna suck your dick,” you said again, evenly, with a small smile as you watched him blush. “You look good. I wanna suck you dry. Can I?”
Your words finally processed and he frantically nodded, hands pushing down those pretty blue boxers as he stumbled over to you, making you giggle.
Dinner
“Takeout,” George offered, combing through the menus stuck on the fridge.
“I’m sick of takeout,” Dream huffed. “How about I make us something?”
“With what,” Sapnap scoffed. This was it: your time to shine.
“Step aside, boys,” you said dramatically, fishing out a box of noodles, a can of tomatoes, and a pack of hot dogs. “Hot dog goulash to the rescue!”
George wrinkled his nose. “Is that American food?”
“It’s ‘I grew up poor and this was all we could afford’ food, so shut the fuck up and enjoy it.”
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arthursalbion · 3 years
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1.02 ◈ 'Valiant'
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happyreid187 · 3 years
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Beats working - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Word count: ~2.5 K
Description: Reader’s friends finally make her go to a party, and force a certain genius to attend as well... 
Warnings: SMUT. Explicit, 18+ only! Not gender neutral. Oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, borderline degradation but not really. It’s sort of Dom!spence vibes but very soft. There is alcohol involved at the beginning but consent is made clear. I named the reader’s friends but they’re only mentioned twice so you can def fill that in with your own friends if you prefer :)
“Thank god, you workaholic bitch!” One minute into the party and Marley was already chastising you. Fair. Though you made time for brunches and wine nights, you had missed many of her signature parties. “I’m sorryyyy,” you sang, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m here now.” “Do you think they’ll survive without you for a night?” she giggled. “No, but I don’t really care. Point me in the direction of the alcohol?”
After some obligatory small talk, you found your way through the party to a slightly quieter area, leaning against the wall. You weren’t having a bad time exactly, but you were definitely reminded why you avoid these things. A tall, slim man made his way over, leaning next to you. You had seen him when he came in, having felt drawn to him immediately - he was greeted with similar fanfare, but by Marley’s boyfriend Ben, who lamented his absence at recent parties. You noticed him from the start, but as he stood closer to you, you really took him in, his messy chestnut hair and sharp jawline. He made your brain go dumb. He was, like... really pretty. He seemed shy, but still spoke first “You don’t really seem like a party person. I thought I was the only person they had to force to these things.” he chuckled. “Yeah, I find that I’m about a million percent - well that’s not a thing - a million times more charming one on one. These things make me quiet, and I’m not quiet.” “I love that you corrected yourself there,” he laughed for real this time, and you were weirdly proud of yourself for bringing it out of him. He seemed so stoic and anxious when he first walked in. “I totally relate - I’m usually dead silent at these things and normally people can’t get me to shut up, and...” he smiled at you, and butterflies overtook you “I think you’re plenty charming now.” 
It turned out he was the charming one, and he wasn’t so quiet after all. After brief introductions, he really opened up. You could see what he was saying about never shutting up as he rambled on and on, but you couldn’t understand why anyone would ever want him to stop talking. You could have listened to him all night, and you did. The hours flew by. You learned his name and title - he asked you to call him Spencer - how smart he is, and that his passion for his job mirrored your own. You learned a lot, listening to him talk, as he lamented the amount of germs at parties; how entirely disgusting he finds the proximity and amount of touching they inspire. Contrary to his words, he was sitting incredibly close to you, and you could feel his eyes on your lips. The feeling of this stranger’s eyes on you made you happy in a way you couldn’t explain. Maintaining his anti-party rhetoric, he started whining about how stupid it is to try to interact with people in a space where it’s too loud to hear oneself think. The space around you was deafening, and only getting worse, as the people around you got drunker while you two became progressively less so. The benefit of this was that it forced him to sit with his thigh against yours on the couch and say everything in your ear, like a secret. But having him that close gave you goosebumps, and you wanted him even closer.
“It is really loud. Do you wanna... maybe get out of here?” you nervously inquired. His eyes lit up at your suggestion as he started to shift to stand, but then a shyness crossed over his face. “Are you sure?” he replied, glancing at the beer in your hand. “Yes, yes I’m sure.” He looked unconvinced. “I’ve had two drinks in...” you glanced at your watch “four hours. I’ve barely been sipping this one.” He nodded knowingly, “Well, yeah, and considering the average person can metabolize roughly one drink per hour, and those have a relatively low alcohol content, your blood alcohol should be well below the legal limit for driving. I know you’re not drunk. But the whole time we’ve been talking you’ve been...” he paused. He looked nervous. “Uninhibited? Are you sure you want to leave here with me?” Your chest squeezed at the emphasis he placed on the last two words. He not only wanted to make sure you were fully able to want him, he seemed to question why you would. There was a lot to unpack there, so you pushed it from your mind. You would find myriad ways to reassure him of your desire after you left. Right now you just needed to get out of there, or you were going to suck face in the corner of your friend’s party, and you were both too old for that. You leaned in close, and spoke slowly placing excessive inflection on every single word, as if that would make him believe you. “I am absolutely certain that I want you.” Spencer seemed satisfied. He stood and grinned, pulling you to your feet.
You made your way out of the room swiftly, with him at your heels, his palm on the small of your back. He trailed behind you as you stepped out the door and through the frigid air, moving towards your car. You were too nervous to turn to look at him. Your thoughts turned to insecurity at the coffee cups, receipts, and work clothes that littered the floor and passenger seat. Before unlocking the door, you spun around to warn him, but before you could even open your mouth, his was on yours. As reserved as he had seemed inside, he wasn’t holding anything back now. His lips crashed against yours, bordering on violent, but it wasn’t messy. Your bodies seemed to know how to link, somehow. He grabbed your waist harshly, shoving you against the door. Leaving one hand with a tight grip on your waist, like you were going to slip from his grasp, he brought the other to the side of your neck, his touch surprisingly soft compared to the rest of him. He placed heavy kisses down your neck and along your collarbones. Without his mouth against yours, there was nothing to quiet you. “Oh my god, Spencer...” you gasped. You weren’t sure what you expected, but you hadn’t quite expected him to be so in charge - it was an extremely satisfying surprise. He pressed himself impossibly closer to you, that gentle hand ghosting down your spine and moving to cup your ass. His mouth returned to yours, probably to keep the rest of the party from hearing you, tongue moving with yours. 
“I thought you didn’t like to touch people,” you gasped with a smile as you pulled away dizzy, needing to catch your breath, though your desire to feel his lips felt stronger than your will to breathe. He snapped away from his powerful state for a moment, the lust fading from his eyes slightly and turning into something warmer, his gaze softening. “Oh I want to touch you,” he muttered, a grin tugging at the corners of his now pink, puffy lips. “I want to touch you,” he said again, both reassuring and frighteningly intense, the softness fading but still present “Like this,” his hand found it’s way to your reddened cheek, flushed from both him and the cold, running across you so lightly he was barely there. “And like this...” his other hand found its way from your waist to your breast, squeezing and eliciting a moan from you as he ran his thumb harshly across your nipple. The hand on your cheek simultaneously shifted to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t already. His eyes were dark again, and so fierce that you felt simultaneously consumed and overwhelmed. You fought the overwhelm, following his silent demand that you remain focused on his face. You would do anything he asked, with or without words. He returns your focus and leans in, voice deep and austere, crackling against your ear “And like this.” His hand slipped under your dress, cupping your pussy through the drenched lace. Spencer looked entirely elated. “Baby,” he started. You melted at the name. You were going to die. Your heart was going to explode through your chest, but there are worse ways to go. “You’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even started yet,” he muttered. He was so smug. “Were you this wet for me in there, sitting on our friends’ couch?” You didn’t think you would be able to speak, so the sound of your voice surprised you. “Yes. Just hearing you talk and feeling your eyes on me was enough to completely fucking wreck me.” Spencer didn’t seem to expect that answer, looking shocked and delighted, smiling as he pulled you in for a small kiss, chaste in comparison to the previous. “Mmm, well you’re going to have to be patient for me. As much as I want to fuck you right here, I don’t need anyone seeing you. Let’s get out of here.”
The drive was challenging, but quick. You were both grateful and frustrated that he didn’t try to tease you on the way. At least not much. His hand rested on your thigh through the ride, but he didn’t dare to move it. When you finally walked through the door of his apartment, he led you quickly to the bedroom. He had no interest in taking his time. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that made the room spin. You weren’t sure how you would survive him fucking you when his simplest touches overwhelmed you, but you were eager to find out. Too eager, you began grinding on his bulge, moaning into his mouth as your fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. “So impatient, aren’t you?” Spencer asked. “I just want you so bad, Spence.” you begged. You felt pathetic, but you didn’t care. “Good girls know how to wait for what they want. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” his voice was deeper than it had been all night, and it edged you even further “Yes. Yes. But please, please don’t tease me.” Your voice shook with emotion and arousal. His teasing was hot, but you needed him now. “We just walked in the door and you’re already begging for me? Either you’re a little slut or I must be really special.” he muttered against your lips. “You are. I’m desperate for you. Only for you.” He had been frustratingly quiet so far, but he moaned at your words now. Spencer shoved you against the bed and moved to hover over you, one hand beside you holding him up while the other made it’s way to where you needed him most. “You are so fucking wet for me. So responsive.” he kissed down your stomach, and you arched your back, moaning so loud you should have been worried about the neighbors, but you weren’t. Your brain was completely empty - all you could do was feel him. With his head nestled between your legs, he kissed your inner thighs, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You guessed he only wanted to mark you in places he alone could see. You hoped he knew he already owned your body - you were his already. You were already ruined and he wasn’t even fully undressed. “Such a good girl for me, y/n.” he breathed against you, before diving in. His mouth was too perfect, alternating between long laps and short flicks against your clit. After only a few minutes, you were already close, but it seemed so wasteful to finish on his tongue before even seeing the rest of him. You locked your fingers in his hair, pulling him off you “You don’t want me to continue?” he asked, insecure but somehow still dominant. “I want to cum on your cock, baby.” His hazel eyes grew wide at your words. “Please fuck me, Spencer. I need you.” You thought he would mock you for being so desperate, for begging, for needing him, but he seemed to return your need. 
With shaking hands, he unbuckled his belt, and you moved quickly to pull down his boxers. His dick was so pretty, flushed and ready for you. You started to pump him in your hands, but he quickly stopped him. “Not right now baby. I need to feel your pussy.” he was panting already. “Need to be inside you.” You laid on your back, as he moved over you. “Do I need a... “ he started, but you interrupted him, “I have an IUD, you’re good.” He looked relieved. He started kissing you again, but you made it difficult, gasping into his mouth as he moved his member up and down your folds. He pulled away from your mouth, looking at you for approval. “Fucking please.” He pushed into you immediately, slowly but all at once, pausing only when he had completely filled you. Again, he wasn’t as quiet as you might have originally expected, moaning loudly as he buried himself deep inside. He started moving, and quickly built to a rapid pace. Neither of you could be quiet, your moans filling the air as you tried and failed to call out his name. “Y/n,” he somehow groaned and whined at the same time, “you’re so fucking tight.” You couldn’t respond, too focused on the knot forming beneath him, trying to put off your release so that you could feel him just a little longer. 
“Spencer,” you managed, “you feel so good.” he groaned at your cry. He was even more vocal in response to your words than to your body, so you found your voice despite feeling completely inundated with pleasure. “You’re so good. I’m gonna be ruined for anyone else. No one else is this good,” you sung his praises, and it affected him exactly as you had hoped. His thrusts grew less controlled, slowing down somewhat as he said “Good. You’re mine. I - I want you to be mine.” His words nearly pushed you over the edge, but you wanted him to be ready first. “Fuck, I’m gonna - ah” you screamed, “I need you to cum with me baby, please please please” your cries were interrupted by your own orgasm, your muscles spasming around him as he came deep inside you. He relaxed on top of you, and stayed there for a while before finally pulling out. You weren’t ready to part from him yet, but fortunately he quickly returned with a t-shirt, and after cleaning up your collective mess pulled you into his arms, spooning you and placing gentle kisses on your face. Again, you weren’t sure what you had expected - it made sense that after being so desperate for your touch he would want to hold you after. But you remained surprise. Being this close to him felt like a miracle. Rather than questioning it, you settled into the comfort of being close to him, appreciating his arms around you. 
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mypersonmyg · 3 years
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crash and learn | myg, kth, jjk
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pairing: yoongi x reader ft. maggie x taehyung, dani x jeongguk
genre: fluff, college au, the misery chick au
rating: pg15
wc: 2.3k
warnings: swearing, not really edited
summary: you and yoongi just want some time alone OR maybe jeongguk and taehyung will finally stop crashing your dates
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a/n: haha i bet you thought i forgot but i didn’t! its drabble week and i will be posting one every day this week (weekends debatable)...this one is a part of the misery chick universe but also you don’t have to read it to get it because...
this is for my FAVORITE CUTIE MAGGIE @kimtaehyunq​!!!! who asked me to write a cute tae and jeongguk request ft herself and yours truly <3 and i think its fun to have one universe with all the members being with one of my friends so,,,maybe more coming?,,,either way i might write another drabble or two to sort of bring this one full circle, maybe not this week but yeah
[drabble masterlist]
[the misery chick]
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One date turned to two and two to three, needless to say that months later and Min Yoongi still finds room to swoon for the girl who thought him puffing smoke before the start of the period. The misery chick isn’t gone, but the words are forbidden within a radius of the two of you, more likened to prolonged stares and the occasional glares of those wondering about the developing development of your arms locked and stares stopping on your respective pupils dilated in the glare of the midday sun. 
Though those passersby who let Yoongi pass by for too long without a positive step in the direction of his natural charms hold their tongues, the boys that fill the round of the courtyard picnic don’t hesitate to gag into half eaten sandwiches and dribble the purple fizz from the cans perched at their lips. 
“This is a little excessive, no?” Taehyung, the least bothered of the present, pipes up. He slurps from a straw that traces the length of his arm, wrapping the sleeve of his half buttoned button up. No one dared ask about his latest purchase, Jeongguk who was slurping from his juice box even eyeing with envy the can perfectly placed atop a tuft of grass, feeding into the straw at Taehyung’s lips. “When you invited us on a picnic I was hoping for a little more ‘we time’ and a little less ‘you time’.”
“To be clear, we didn’t invite you.”
“I like to think it was an open invitation,” Jeongguk shrugs, falling back against the blanket spread beneath you. 
Yoongi kisses his teeth, his own position resting against your chest, the perfect avenue for the pass of a grape from your fingers to his lips. He’s too content to bother with the bothersome nature of his uninvited roommates, both found minutes before his departure scavenging the lunch he’d spent the better part of the morning putting together. It was only the delighted pitch of your giggles that stopped him from scolding the two and sending them on their way when they followed you out of the door. He even caught you sneaking a few extra snacks into the basket for the fiends. 
“The point is, I will not hesitate to press my face to Yoongi’s because this is supposed to be a date.” 
“Press your face? That’s fuckin’ weird can’t you just say kiss?” Taehyung snatches the grape from your hand midair, sending Yoongi a smug smirk when he pops it past his geometric lips humming along with the satisfactory burst of the skin against his tongue. 
“No, because it makes you uncomfortable.” You tut, quickly replacing the grape to remedy the pout pulling at Yoongi’s cheeks. “This’ll teach you two to stop crashing our dates!” 
Dates is, in fact, plural because the tag along of your spritely comrades has been less and less few and far over the course of just a few weeks. You aren’t blind to the odd trend, not missing the attachment of Jeongguk specifically with each expected visit. Only recently had Taehyung begun to fill the void at Jeongguk’s side, previously partnered with any member of the house available at the time. 
What you’ve failed to account for with every impromptu double date is Jeongguk’s wise up with each stand in. He began to worm his way with Hoseok, clear that Yoongi would never turn down his best friend and you would never turn down Jeongguk. He would then try his hand with each member of the house, the worst of them being Jimin who had them sent away without even a morsel of the pizza you and Yoongi planned on sharing that day. 
It was that evening that Yoongi stood barefoot in his doorway, scratching at his brows toeing the reason behind Jeongguk’s sudden interest in you to which Jeongguk sputtered and blushed Yoongi out of the door with the assurance that his interest in you still remained platonic despite your commonalities and attraction. 
Jeongguk would never disclose the reason for his sudden interest in the almost daily escapades of Yoongi and yourself for fear that the blush painting his cheeks would be due to the teases and pressures of his friends, much the way he heard his hyungs pressuring Yoongi just months ago. He reasons that the position served Yoongi well, his eyes often traveling to the trace of your hand against Yoongi’s and frequent pecks to his forehead, his cheeks, he averts when you ‘press face’.
He wouldn’t dare admit the lift of his heart when you utter a defeated ‘I’ll just call Maggie and Dani, we can all catch a movie or something’ or when you plan ahead, which you’ve been doing more often, and the two meet you at your destination. The assumption of his appearance for the consumption that is often his source of a meal was accurate at the start. Your weekly dinners increasingly put on hold in place of a date with Yoongi, a point that Jeongguk used to his advantage the first night he beat Yoongi to the front seat of his own car while you snickered on the passenger side and Yoongi grumbled his way to the rear. 
His tactic had been to spend more time with his friend busied by love’s intoxicating hold, but his routine was struck by the catch of his own wrist in the hold of the bug. It was subtle before all at once, just an insignificant flutter passed off as a change in the weather, allergies. It was the not so subtle jab of Hoseok’s elbow into Jeongguk’s ribs after a particularly festive frolic through the spring festival that hipped him to his blind intentions. 
“Dude, you’ve been eying Dani for like three weeks and I’m tired of going on dates with you.” Suffice to say that was the last time Hoseok was glued to his side and Jeongguk only hoped the few feet between him and Dani just ahead provided a gap gaping enough to save her ears from Hoseok’s assail. 
It was a constant trial and error leading up to the night just a week ago that conjured Taehyung in stride, far too dressed up for casual with a confident glint in his eye. 
“You made the right call, I don’t know why it took you so long to make it, but I’m here now. The doctor is in.” Taehyung surveyed the small span of the restaurant's front entrance that day, confident in his abilities to  nudge Jeongguk ever closer to the girl he’s been crazy about for the past few weeks. He found it endearing that the youngest was having a hard time, especially when he was often the target of straying gazes and the not-so-subtle flirtations of all shades. 
It didn’t take long for all involved to realize that the doctor inconveniently called in sick from the moment Yoongi showed up with three ladies en route, one familiar from a photo Jeongguk scrounged and the second filled with a familiarity not quite familiar to Taehyung. You were quick to introduce her as Maggie, and Taehyung couldn’t form a sentence coherent enough for the rest of the night. 
If it weren’t for the quickened explanation on the drive home, Jeongguk would’ve been a lot less forgiving about his botched date, but here they are two weeks later, both lovestruck idiots jumping with each sound of crumpled grass while you and Yoongi are none the wiser to their intent. 
“So, what are we doing tomorrow? Aside from watching you two be all lovey dovey.” 
“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s head tilts, eyes squinting in the face of the sun’s rays. “What are you two doing tomorrow? I personally plan on spending the day with my girlfriend, preferably alone at some point.” 
“Huh, well there’s this horror marathon at the drive-in tomorrow and I was thinking we could all go!” Taehyung nudges Jeongguk’s leg, the younger immediately onboard with the suggestion. 
“Yeah! We could even invite Maggie and Dani so we have someone to talk to when you two inevitably claim the backseat for making out or whatever.”
You eye the two, eyes as wide as fresh puppies and smiles spanning the length of their cheeks. You aren’t completely blind to the trend of the past few weeks, but you haven’t been keen enough an observer to call them out on it until now. You’ve joked with Yoongi in private about your impromptu triple dates, most of the time brushed off with the shift of his lips to your own, too exhausted to think about anything but the moment he finally has you to himself. 
You nudge him with your knee, catching his eye with the minute dip of your head and the draw of your brow. 
“Ya know, you guys could always just go yourselves. I could give you their numbers,” You don’t miss the exchanged glances and tinted cheeks, Jeongguk’s eyes averting to the opposite end of the grass, one hand lifting to tug at the lobe of his ear. “I know Maggie is really into horror and Dani will def tag along if you ask nicely.” 
“Oh...they’re your friends though, I don’t think they’d wanna hang with us.” Taehyung sputters, nearly knocking the can at his side. Yoongi scoffs, head lolling from its place on your thigh. 
“You’re kidding right? The way those two act around you is not exactly subtle.” 
“What do you mean?” Jeongguk’s body leans forward, pupils doubled in hopeful curiosity. 
“I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.” Yoongi shrugs. 
“And there’s no time like the present!” Your hands flag at something beyond the scope of their heads, Jeongguk freezing on the spot, but Taehyung’s neck craning to capture the bodies bounding over and moments later plopping in the convenient spaces between. Maggie squishes herself between you and Jeongguk while Dani takes the spot beside Taehyung. 
A panic flashes in both of their eyes when they note the unmatched arrangement of bodies. There was no specification as to who Maggie or Dani harbor unspoken feelings for, or what kind of feelings they are,  and the time to question has since vanished. 
The group falls to routine, broken conversations and voices piping in, Taehyung notes the lack of attention the girl that has a grip on his bursting appendage has paid in the past twenty minutes. A simple nod of the head or half smile is the only acknowledgement to his thoughtfully witty remarks. 
He doesn’t miss the drop of her hand to Jeongguk’s arm when he tells a funny joke, her head thrown back with exaggerated laughter and he fights to send a glare his way but thinks better as Jeongguk is too entranced by Dani who has barely said a word since sitting. 
“So, Tae was just telling us about this horror marathon they’re having at the drive-in tomorrow night. He and Guk wanna go.” You fill in once the six of you fall to comfortable silence. You catch Maggie sending a smirk Taehyung’s way, recovering at once when she peeks your gaze out of the corner of her eye. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah, Yoon and I could use some alone time so I thought you guys might wanna go with them.”
“Horror?” Dani speaks up, gently shifting to shield herself from Jeongguk’s wandering eyes. “That’s cool, but I don’t know that’s not really my thing.” 
“That's okay!” Jeongguk startles himself with his words, lowering his voice with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, we don’t have to stay the whole time, I wouldn’t mind leaving early. We could get some food or something.” 
“Hey, not all of us are chicken. I wanna stay the whole time,” Maggie pokes her tongue in Dani’s direction, earning the same in return. 
“I’m not chicken. There’s just only so much nuclear family, last girl blah blah blah that I can handle.” Dani shrugs, turning her attention to Jeongguk for the first time that he’s aware of, since she arrived. “It’s okay, you guys should just go without me.” 
“No, I wanna hang with you. We could go to this new pizza place in town if you’re interested?” Jeongguk is pleased to note that you and Yoongi have gone back to your regularly scheduled program, pretending as if your date hasn’t been crashed for the millionth time. Taehyung and Maggie, on the flip, are watching you two as if they’re already tucked into the boot of a car with popcorn between their fingers. 
“Um...I mean, if you really don’t mind. I don’t wanna steal you or them away from the movies.” 
“I’ll stay...ya know, Maggie and I. We could stay and watch the movies and you two could go after the first one or two.” Taehyung glances at Maggie whose eyes are already taking him in, flashing away the moment pupils meet. 
“Yeah, that’s always an option.” She agrees, flashing you a thumbs up. 
“Great!” Four heads snap in your direction, Yoongi is finally sitting upright and you’re all smiles, neatly folding your blanket to pass off. “So it sounds like you guys have a lot of planning to do and we have a lot of kissing to do, so we’ll be seein’ ya!” 
“Wait, don’t you guys wanna finish your food?” Maggie gestures to the half eaten meal left resting in the basket.
“No no, you guys have it. I’m actually in the mood for pizza now so we’ll probably grab some on the way home.” 
“Okay...bye, I guess.” Dani watches with scrunched brows and Jeongguk and Taehyung send Yoongi the same look he’s been sending for weeks for a completely different reason. He sends them a smirk, arm slung around your shoulders as the two of you leave your date crashers in the dust with potential of their own. 
“Have fun!” 
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14 notes · View notes
hibisha · 4 years
Note
Hello, a friend of yours said you might be able to recommend some radiodust fanfics, and it can be anything im not picky
RadioDust fanfics you say? Alright *cracks knuckles* here we go.
1.) The Charismatic Cannibal’s Guide to Self Care
Rating: E
Summary: Alastor chuckled around a hand. Angel would never get over how shark-like he could look. Fangs were the norm here, but Alastor’s had a certain animal quality that fit strangely in a humanoid face. Too big and too many. And right now they were tinged with a hint of red from his choice of drink.
“So what,” he said, “would liven up the place for you, sport?”
You might assume that Angel Dust is the bad influence in every situation. You would be wrong.
The Radio Demon has plans for Hell, and plans for Angel. And they aren't pretty.
Will contain gore/cannibalism/murder and plenty of fun, bad people. Please read the tags and content warning. Plot now, smut to follow.
Personal thoughts: It only one chapter so far but I really like the premise.
2.) Their Arrangement
Rating: E
Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust have come to an agreement after Angel pushes the Radio Demon's buttons a little too far and inadvertently awakens the long forgotten urges buried under decades of bloodlust.
Personal thoughts: One of my literal favorites. Alastor and Angel’s evolving relationship from sex friends to ‘oh shit I have feelings’ *chef’s kiss*.
3.) Absolute Territory
Rating: E
Summary: Angel Dust is an absolute terror for Absolute Territory.
Alastor never knew he had a thing for stockings until Angel decides to flaunt a pair, matched with a pleated skirt and an oversized sweatshirt.
Personal thoughts: Have some good ol’ smut.
4.) Heart Between His Teeth
Rating: E
Summary: So maybe there are better things to life than being drugged and fucked so hard you can't even think for yourself.
Personal thoughts: OMFG. I CAN NOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC.
5.) Angel Dust’s Not So Illustrious Life
Rating: T
Summary: Alastor isn’t sure why he’s become Angel’s primary target, but the more he attempts to dissuade Angel’s advances, the more fervent they seem to become.
And maybe Alastor likes that...maybe...Yet it seems there’s more to Angel than innuendos and a quick romp.
Personal thoughts: I kinda love this fic a lot where Angel and Alastor respect each other’s boundaries.
6.) Caught In His Own Web
Rated:E
Summary: "So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never. Because the dance with the devil might last you forever."
Redemption is hard when you don't want to do it. Redemption is even harder when a certain Radio Demon keeps enabling your sinful behavior.
Personal thoughts: My favourite trope, bad people being worse together.
7.) I Thought I Knew You 
Rated: M
Summary: Angel Dust can't ruin the hotel's reputation if he can't go outside. Or, at least, that's what Alastor says. Of course, it's all a ploy to torture Alastor's least favorite spider demon, but maybe he doesn't know Angel Dust as well as he thinks he does.
Personal thoughts: I really like this one especially since it feeds into my “Alastor is a dick in all AUs.”
8.) Sex, drugs and radio host
Rating: E
Summary: For some ungodly reason, Alastor decides to keep Angel safe and sound - meaning no sex, prostitution and certainly no drugs. Of course, this wild idea is met with more than a little resistance. But... no one ever cared if Angel was safe. And sometimes, all he would like is a hug. Sex sure is nice, but he is more than willing to explore the possibilities.
The trouble is, it doesn't seem like Alastor is offering anything specific. Keeping things strange and vague is not helping, especially when a new guest catches Alastor's attention.
Personal thoughts: Its cute and theres feelings involved is all I’m saying.
9.) Gentleman's Wager 
Rating: None
Summary: Sick of listening to Angel Dust's crass and vulgar language, Alastor makes a bet with him. If Angel Dust can remain absolutely silent for one whole week, he'll give in and kiss him.
Personal thoughts: *inhales* JVKJGCHJCHJCVJHVJHGCJHCJHCGFD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH PLEASE READ IT.
10.) Triggered 
Rating: None
Summary: Angel Dust had never really thought too much about the static hum surrounding Alastor wherever he went... until now anyway.
Personal thoughts: It's a very good fic about ANgel dealing with PTSD. Def check it out.
11.) Dinner and Drinks 
Rating: None
Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust can barely tolerate each other and Charlie seeks to fix that.
Personal thoughts: Again, a slow development of Angel and Alastor’s relationship.
12.) You Do Something to Me 
Rating: T
Summary: Alastor's radio signals go both ways, and for the past few decades he's tuned into the most beautiful voice. What a surprise to find the source in the Happy Hotel right under his nose.
A relationship that grows through music.
Personal thoughts: AGAIN, PLEASE READ THIS IT IS CUTE HECK AND WILL CLEAR YOUR SKIN. Also, its part 2: No One Knows Anything But Us 
13.) 1932
Rating: M
Summary: The 1930s are the for perfect time to nurture any up-and-coming radio host or serial killer alike. Alastor is no exception.
Set in New Orleans in 1932, Alastor is living his best life. Broadcaster by day and home chef by night, he's learned that Jumbalaya is best served with a side of human liver and a still beating heart. That is until he brings the wrong meal to his table, a member of the Italian mafia, and ends up biting off more than he can chew.
With his latest meal escaping the table and his identity running the risk of being found out, Alastor faces his biggest hunt yet. The streets of New Orleans are his forest and this time, it's his head on the platter.
AKA Alastor screws up and now has to fix his mess in Dixieland while balancing his day job, cannibalistic hunger, and learn how to be a decent human being for once along the way. Should be fun.
Personal thoughts: I absolutely adore this fic. Please give it a shot.
14.) Contracts and Deals Series
Rating: E
Summary: Angel Dust, Hell's number one porn actor.
Alastor, Hell's most renowned overlord.
The two cross paths.
Angel makes a deal with Alastor to get out of his contract with Valentino. One thing leads to another.
Personal thoughts: It’s a good series that eventually gets really fluffy.
15.) Good Management
Rating: M
Summary: Alastor thought he had Angel Dust filed away into his niche box in the Hotel. He was wrong. But he's a good enough manager to fix his responsibilities.
Personal thoughts: Its AngeliaDark. You know it’s good.
16.) Anything for you
Rating: M
Summary: Valentino faces the consequences of hurting someone that Alastor deeply favors
i.e. Val fucking dies
Personal thoughts: Any fic where Val dies is a good fic.
17.) Predator and Prey
Rating: M
Summary: Every couple of years, Angel Dust goes through a change that makes him a lot less tolerable to be around, for many more reasons than one. The staff of the Hotel are about to learn that the hard way, none more so than Alastor.
Personal thoughts: Okay so, slight dubcon, would recommend checking the tags before going into it. Though I love how it tackles on the story of Alastor being a deer which is technically a prey animal and Angel being the predator for once. Absolutely love it.
18.) Good Tidings 
Rating: T
Summary: A Christmas party in Hell isn't the big selling point for the Happy Hotel (For Hazbins), but Charlie feels that the holiday season is just what her friends need to open up to and help one another.
So what better way to do it than with a Secret Santa?
When Angel Dust draws none other than his crush, the Radio Demon, he knows he has one shot to not eff it up.
Personal thoughts: Really fluffy, a good read. Highly recommend it.
19.) Vanilla Bean
Rating: T
Summary: Alastor decides to try his hand at pet names and inadvertently offends Angel Dust. Rated T for swearing and there's suggestive content if you close one eye, tilt your head, and squint.
Personal thoughts: Okay so i loved this one because of how badly these two handle communication.
20.) For Auld Lang Syne, My Dear
Rating: M
Summary: Alastor's solitude is interrupted by Angel Dust who has just escaped a rough client and the two spend the last moments of 2019 together.
Personal thoughts: Love love love this. I just love Angel and Alastor dancing together okay.
21.) I Like It Better When I'm With You 
 Rating: M
Summary: Angel deals with feelings. Alastor deals with feelings. Just a whole lot of pining.
Personal thoughts: Summary says it all.
22.) Technical Difficulties
Rating: M
Summary: The hotel is running relatively well. Relationships between Alastor and the rest of the staff are budding surprisingly smoothly. And then the rainfall starts up, threatening all of it.
Alastor's out of tune.
Personal thoughts: I love how this is written. Slowburn but worth it.
23.) Lurking in the Shadows 
Rated M
Summary: 5 instances where a curious and head-over-heels shadow follows Angel Dust around and 1 time where Angel decides to follow it instead.
Personal thoughts: It’s very cute how Alastor’s shadow pines after Angel.
24.) Crossroads
Rating: M
Summary: A mafioso’s and a murderous radio star’s paths collide in New Orleans in the winter of 1933.
Personal thoughts: OKAY SO I REALLY LOVE THIS BECAUSE HUMAN AUS ARE MY JAM AND THEN ALASTOR AND ANGEL BEING TERRIBLE HUMANS TOGETHER IS EVEN BETTER.
25.) Needle Through a Bug
Rating: E
Summary: Angel wakes up in a hospital after a party. His doctor is very strange, worryingly so. Still, he can't help but be intrigued.
Personal thoughts: Doctor AU. Alastor is insane. I love it because Alastor manages to be as creepy as possible while saving lives.
26.) My Roommate's a Demonic Deer 
 Rating: M
Summary: Don't you hate it when you "accidentally" summon a demon to fix a problem within your home, only to find out that they don't do that, so now you're stuck with a cannibalistic demon that constantly tracks blood onto the floor, brings other unholy beings into your apartment, and makes amazing jambalaya? It's amazing insanity!
Personal thoughts: Lmao I love demon summoning gone wrong so this was really an amazing read. Angel being a true himbo is always the best.
27.) Human Hazbin Roommates AU series
Rating: E, M
Summary: A series of porny RadioDust one-shots depicting modern human AU roommate life.
Notes:
Glimpses into the human lives of insufferable roommates.
(AKA This was supposed to be a practice at writing present tense smut and it devolved into sex and feelings)
Personal thoughts: Dive in for the smut, come out with the feels.
28: Darker Side of Hell series
Rating: E
Summary: Follow Charlie and later Alastor as part of my Story for the Hazbin hotel... It ain't pretty, so enjoy!
Personal thoughts: Not everyone’s cup of tea so i suggest reading the tags but I really love this series a lot. Angel being awkward and in love is the best shit ever. Its an amazing series.
29.) Scorched, Uninhabited, Rejected
Rating: M
Summary: When Hell suddenly loses all working functions, and angels start dropping from their overhead perches to attack the underworlds population, Charlie has no idea what to do before she's suddenly face to face with a Archangel. Though something, clearly, isn't right about the air the angel assures her to keep those who are dear tucked tightly by her side as the disaster struggles to fix itself.
But nothing is as it seems, Overlords' powers are dwindling and even her own is becoming strained as she struggles to protect her beloved hotel and friends from the Exterminators outside.
Personal thoughts: *vibrates* Can’t say much without spoilers so I’m just gonna beg ya all to read this.
30.) The Thin Line
Rating: None
Summary: Studies say it takes fifty hours of interaction before you consider someone a casual friend and two hundred to be a close friend. Alastor and Angel Dust manage to skip right past close friends to something more without either even noticing they've crossed the line.
31.) La Vie En Rose
Rating: G
Summary: Alastor learns that Angel is afraid of thunderstorms, and Angel in turn learns about the Radio Demon.
32.) falling 
Rating: M
Summary: "You're hot as fuck, be my boyfriend."
That was perhaps the worst thing he could've possibly said from that standpoint.
A college setting where Angel gets suddenly awful at flirting when it comes to the face of his crush, a cute library assistant that goes by Alastor.
Personal thoughts: COLLEGE AU COLLEGE AU. 
33.) Old Habits Die Hard
Rating: G
Summary: Angel decides to bring back a little habit of his after having a rough time.
Personal thoughts: Hella soft, please read.
34.) Handwritten 
Rating: None
Summary: Alastor imagines Angel must be lonely in heaven, he writes to keep him company.
 A series of letters addressed to Angel.
Personal thoughts: Hi, do you like crying into your pillow at 2 AM? You do? The look no further, this is the fic for you! Now, with extra heart wrenching feels!
35.) Relapse and Recovery
Rating: T
Summary: Going clean was never going to be easy, but easy was something Angel Dust never expected going into this anyway. At least he has a good support system to help him along the way.
Personal thoughts: I just really like AngeliaDark’s fics okay.
36.) Catalyst
Rating: T
Summary: All couples have their downfalls, and an event that should have been celebrated only drives Alastor and Angel Dust apart.
Personal thoughts: Love love love this. It’s very well written, reads easy and you’ll feel fluffy for days.
37.) Dinner Date: A RadioDust Tale
Rating: E
Summary: Angel Dust finally finds a way to get Alastor to agree to a 'date'. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Sometimes literally.
Personal thoughts: One of my favourite stories about RadioDust.
38.) This One's Dedicated to [static interruption]
Rating: M
Summary: A couple of years since the hotel's opening, the residents have settled down into a fairly tolerable routine. Recently, some of them have begun experiencing peculiar symptoms which become more noticeable as time passes. To his dismay, the Radio Demon finds that he is not immune.
A chance encounter with Angel Dust propels the two demons together as they attempt to answer what's behind the unusual phenomena, while rediscovering all the things they thought dead and buried along the way.
Personal thoughts: Slowburn but definitely worth it. I love the story and how it’s progressing with a certain mystery surrounding the whole plot.
Also slight self plug I guess:
39.) 14 ways to say “I Love You”
Rating: T
Summary: Just a collection of small drabbles I’m writing on based on single word prompts.
Please check it out if you’re a fan of odd AUs.
Wowee, that’s a lot. I’m gonna call it a night and say that’s all for today. I hope you enjoy these! 
379 notes · View notes
currywaifu · 4 years
Text
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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: muse 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: miyoshi kazunari/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k words, 1 image
𝐚𝐧: got back to writing again~ how much kazu-speak is too much? sorry this took a while, but I finally got over my writer’s block!
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When your phone vibrates the exact minute your class ends, you know the text can only be sent by him. As the people around you begin to step outside the lecture hall, you find time to read your boyfriend’s message before heading out as well.
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With Kazunari being a year above you, in a different course more so, there were times during the week where the two of you could barely catch a glimpse of each other. Projects were beginning to pile up for both of you, and with his acting to consider you initially didn’t want to bother him, but…
Just as you picked up your bag, your phone lights up again.
Wah, where r u??? I mish u already beb 💓💕💞
Stifling a giggle, you send back a text before quickly shuffling out of the classroom.
Kazunari always made the effort to put time into your relationship and give you affection, regardless if it was eating together during mutual breaks in between classes or sending each other cute messages and memes on social media.
Of course as cute as his selfies were nothing could beat physically being beside him and hearing his voice in person, so who could blame you for picking up your pace and rushing to where you knew your boyfriend was.
He’s seated on a bench when you spot him, fiddling with his phone. Before you could call out to him whips his head to face you. Instantaneously his lips break into a smile and from the lift of your cheeks you know you’re the same.
“Heyho☆ You looking for someone?” Kazunari says as you approach him, a teasing grin settling on his face. “You look a little lost~”
“I’m here for Kazu, my boyfriend!” You reply, lifting your hand and placing it atop of his head. “He’s this tall, and… oh! Super handsome, too. Have you seen him?”
Holding back a laugh, his eyes dart from left to right before sighing. “Unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be found. Aw, but you look totes adorbs~♪ Should I steal you away from this Kazu guy? I’ll def sweep you off your feet☆”
Before you know it Kazunari pulls you into his arms, the spontaneity a surprising but warm feeling. You wrap your arms around him as well, smiling against his sweater as the two of you hug while swaying left and right.
“Alright, that’s enough, Casanova.” You say the moment the hug gets too tight, slowly escaping his embrace.
“I want more though~” He whines, reluctantly letting go of you. He didn’t actually look upset if the glimmer in his eyes was anything to go by. “Well, I needed your help with something anyway!”
Anticipation bubbles up within you, expecting a new piece he needed help with, or maybe something for you to critique. After all, your admiration for his work was one of the reasons the two of you had gotten so close in the first place.
“I’ll do my best, Kazu-senpai!” You beam at him, throwing in the honorific to potentially catch him off-guard. Needless to say, it worked splendidly.
“Senpai?! You haven’t called me that in forever!” Kazunari was buzzing with excitement, grabbing one of your hands to swing it around. “Ahhhh- it was so, so cute every time you called me that! I was like, OMG—”
You roll your eyes. “I know, you’ve said that how many times?” Nevertheless, every time he mentioned it the more fond you grew of him.
“Kazuuu,” you squeeze his hand “come on, we have something to do, right?”
Not letting go of your hand for even a moment he leads you along the hallway, eventually stopping outside one of the classrooms.
“So, like, you can totally say no if you want but I’d be hella happy if you helped me out with this.”
You frown slightly, a little befuddled on what kind of request he’d be asking of you. “Kazunari, you don’t have to beat around the bush. I’ll understand.”
Nodding and looking more sure of himself, Kazunari continues. “I’d like to paint you.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “Don’t you already do that without asking me? I’ve seen your sketchbook, I’m totally okay with it.”
“This is different. I need to submit a painting of something or someone that’s my muse, so I wanted you as my model,” he explains, silently watching your expression change as you grasp the whole situation.
Avoiding his gaze, you look away from Kazunari. “Muse? So- so that means inspiration, right?” You stammer slightly, imagining how frazzled you must look already. “Wait I’m- are you sure it should be me? I’m not really…” you trail off, unsure of what reason you were going to give at the end.
When he says your name you look back up at his face. “I’m being legit here, you inspire me more than you know. It won’t feel right to paint anything else when you were the first thing that popped into my mind.”
Your eyes widen at his serious declaration. It’s not everyday Kazunari gives you such a straightforward and earnest compliment to that degree. Despite your initial embarrassment, your heart swelled up with joy; watching his shoulder’s ease up made you realize that he was probably waiting for a reaction out of you. At this point, it was impossible for you to reject his request.
“If you’ll still have me, then you can paint me.”
Kazunari’s eyes light up again, expressive and sparkling, before opening the classroom door to lead you inside. “Thank you, and like obvi! Why wouldn’t I wanna show off my sunshine to the world! My baby! My go-“
You let out a huff of amusement as he continued to spurt out pet names for you. Looks like he was back to normal?
When he lets go of your hand you finally take the time to absorb the room. It was obvious it was an art-centric classroom, from the numerous easels, art supplies, and artsy clutter scattered around the room. You wouldn’t have noticed such a difference between this and the other “painter occupied” rooms if it wasn’t for the set-up right smack in the middle.
It made for a pretty picture- loads of white offset by its nature orientedness. A few potted plants (you weren’t sure if they were real or not) were strategically placed along the area. The white fabric was hung and draped atop what was probably a bunch of easels used as a base frame. Similar cloths were set on the floor, a pillow placed on top.
You have a good feeling, a hunch if you will, that you were meant to stay there; if that wasn’t enough proof, an easel with a blank canvas was positioned directly in front of the space.
“When’d you even get the time to set this up? Are we even allowed to be here?” You question, a little surprised how everything has already been prepared.
“Friends from the photography dept helped me out~ Plus I’m lowkey besties with the prof so it’s ayt as long as we clean up.” He replies, grabbing one of the spare fabrics on the table.
“Can you remove your jacket?” Kazunari steps closer to you; as soon as you unzip the garment and throw it aside he wraps the plain, white material around your shoulders like a makeshift shawl or blanket.
You know it’s for the portrait, but there was something domestic about the simple act that made your heart race. He stepped back, smiling at you and looking self-accomplished.
“Huhu I can’t- my baby’s so pretty? How is this possible? Like an angel, no, a deity!”
“Kazu-“
“My venus~ wahh, I need so many pics? Do I have enough space? Do I post on InstaBlam or-”
“Kazu!” You interrupt, your cheeks flaring up in embarrassment. It was literally a white drape! Still, it was always nice when he complimented you, no matter how extra he went about it, so you didn’t have the heart to complain— after a year, you knew he was always genuine with his praise to you.
“We should probably start with the painting, right? We don’t wanna stay too late.” Kazunari perks back up and you briefly watch him choose between paintbrushes before you sit down on the floor.
How do models figure this shit out? Where does your leg go? How do you angle your face? How much tilt was too much tilt? Even the way you sat down was suddenly making you conscious— should you sit cross-legged or on your heels? Legs stretched out or tucked in?
You fidget in place, picking at the stray threads of the cloth beneath you. Should you just let Kazunari do his magic and hope he somehow makes you look good? After watching him from the corner of your eye he drops his paintbrush back in the mug.
“Beb, the vibes are off. I was being legit when I said you looked good, but you look like you’re thinking too hard.”
“Sorry, I can’t figure out what pose works.”
He crouches down in front of you, quietly looking over your awkward form. His hands take action in moving your body, nudging the arm that laid limp on your lap to lay flat against the floor behind you. Then his palms are on your legs, positioning the left thigh atop the right so that your knees faced front and the soles of your feet faced the side.
‘Okay, don’t be weird about it’ you tell yourself, despite hyper-focusing on the ghosts of Kazunari’s fingertips barely seeping through your jeans as they settle on your chin, gently moving your head to the side and tilting it downwards.
Kazunari narrows his eyes, simply staring at your face without a word being uttered. A part of you almost wants him to break into his trendy-speak again if only to give you time to shake off your sudden bashfulness.
“We Gucci! You still look distracted though… oh! Can you think about something that makes you happy?”
Maybe it was because he suggested it, or maybe it was because he’s your boyfriend— either way, the first thing that popped into your mind was Kazunari.
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Settling into university was tough, but you had worked so hard to get accepted into Veludo Arts that you could look past the taxing work handed by the professors. Aside from the workload, you came to really enjoy studying here— you learned first hand how talented your peers were, and that motivated you to work harder.
During one of the campus’ exhibits your eyes were immediately drawn to the canvas with a Japanese painting style. Even from afar you could tell the artist was incredibly talented, but the closer you got the more you were able to see the tiny details and how purposeful every stroke was.
‘The devil truly is in the details’ you thought, looking at the exhibit label card beside the painting.
“Miyoshi Kazunari, 2nd-year student…” you read out loud, wondering if he had more works you could look at around the school.
“I heard my name just now~♪ Could it be, I have an admirer?” You immediately turn around to face a guy with blond hair and green eyes, keeping steady eye contact with you as he grinned.
Cute as he was, you might have totally ignored him if you hadn’t absorbed what he said.
“Hello, you’re Miyoshi-senpai, then?” You ask, trying to hide your disbelief at how he just popped up out of nowhere. Had you been staring at the painting that long that you lost awareness of your surroundings?
“The one and only~♪ You like the painting?”
Abandoning your bewilderment you immediately shifted into admiration mode. “Definitely! I thought the sparse use of colour was genius, particularly how certain parts of the painting got bolder colours than others. Not only that but the title! You think it’s literal at first, but it’s actually a double entendre! I also-“
Your rambling gets caught off by your new acquaintance chuckling, looking infinitely amused by you. You feel pinpricks on your cheeks, deliberating if you had gone too far with your praise or not.
“Kouhai, you’re so cute~♪ If you ever need help, just DM me, alrighty? I’ll always answer ya piko☆”
It had started out with you asking for his advice or to borrow materials, but somehow someway a couple of selfies and hundreds of DM stickers later the conversation shifted to topics unrelated to art.
You had eagerly begun looking forward to seeing the green circle beside his icon as he logged in to tell you about his day, whether it be something he did at Mankai or some crazy shenanigans with his friends.
Becoming close friends with Kazunari, to getting asked out by him, to dating him— you’d be lying if you said the past two years would be just as enjoyable if he wasn’t there to celebrate with you.
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The sound of your name made you escape your daydream, being met with the sight of the blond in front of you.
“Were you calling me for long?” You ask, smiling as he pets you on the head.
“Nah, but aside from some deets the painting’s done now!” Even though the easel was turned to you, you still stand up to take a closer look.
Leave it up to Kazunari to make a human look so… pure? Angelic? How’d he even make you look so good? It was almost as if he had put a dreamy filter over you. As expected, even though he said there was still work to do, the tiniest of details were present— from the creases of the fabric hung behind you to the slight discolourations of the monstera plant beside you.
However, easily the most impressive thing about the whole portrait was the look on your face. The slope of your eyelashes as they shaded your eyes— averted with a faraway look to them, as though enchanted by something unseen to the viewer. The corners of your lips lifted your cheeks, a closed smile holding onto words unspoken.
So that’s what you looked like in love.
“What were you thinking of here, my muse?” Kazunari breaks the silence, and when you turn to face him you notice he’s not looking at the painting. You don’t break the eye contact.
“Were you… musing about me?” He teases, though it’s a little lacking in spirit. You don’t fail to notice— neither the lower timbre of his voice nor the gentleness of his eyes escape you.
Even with all his eccentricities, you and Kazunari aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to love.
“Yeah, I was thinking about you.”
The look on his face was something you wish you could capture in a photo or painting yourself, a medley of unpreparedness, joy, and adoration. You can’t stop your small laughter when he literally clutches his chest.
“OMG my heart, I’m so? You’re so?” He takes hold of the cloth around your shoulders and pulls you closer until the only thing you can focus on is the brilliance of his green eyes. You could look only for a few seconds as he stretched his head forward and pressed his lips against yours.
The kiss was sweet and inviting, not unlike the first they shared months ago. Kazunari’s lips were warm and he tasted faintly of the candy he always liked to stock in his bag. After a moment, he brings both hands up to your cheekbones, cupping your face like he was savouring you.
Then he drops his chin, breaking off the kiss and pushing you away a fraction, so he could look into your eyes.
“Sorry,” he says with a small laugh, “Just can’t believe that expression was all for me, you know?”
You pout, poking his side. “And who else would I think about? I only have one boyfriend, Kazu.”
“Oh? Does that boyfriend happen to be a good kisser?” Kazunari asks playfully, his eyes crinkling with mirth, “I bet I’d be a better kisser~”
“Is that so?” You reply with a raised eyebrow, slowly erasing the distance until you were but a breath apart from touching. “Would you like to prove it?”
The intimacy of the moment was both strange and wonderful. You tilt your chin slightly and he immediately took it as the cue to lean in and kiss you again, drawing your lower lip between his with a light suction. If the first was gentle if not a little energetic, this time he kissed with an unexpected passion and confidence.
It was clear that missing each other plus the accumulation of little moments this afternoon led to this moment.
Kazunari traces one hand over your cheek, down your shoulder, back up again. His fingers come to rest at the back of your neck, sending a slight shiver down your spine, his thumb playing idly along your jaw as he works his mouth against yours and in the back of your head you realise the fabric on your shoulders had slipped some seconds ago. Eventually, you pull yourself closer, until you were flush against him.
Kazunari releases your mouth and starts kissing down your jawline. He presses his upper body over yours as he settles in to tease and nip at your earlobe, murmuring your name, the sensation against your ear making your whole body tingle.
You could only whimper in response as he attacks the outer shell of your ear, beginning to get overwhelmed by his warmth and his smell and you burrowed against his sweater, trying to lose yourself in all of it. At this point, you were just trying to steal as much of Kazunari’s loving warmth as you could.
You tighten your grip on his clothes when he grazes his teeth against your neck; then his lips were on yours again and you readily opened up to him, swirling your tongue against his.
When the need for air came desperately, you took to a slower pace until eventually coming to a halt, loosening the grip you had on him. You don’t immediately open your eyes, collapsing against chest once more to catch your breath. You only look back up when Kazunari lets out a loud snort that turned into a fit of laughter.
“I forgot we were still on campus for a sec,” He says, gently squeezing your forearms. You step backward, making yourself look presentable, though it serves a bit of a task without a mirror to guide you.
“We should probably clean up and leave.”
Kazunari lets out a thoughtful hum, and you can already see the grin creeping upon his lips. “Yeah, we def should… unless?”
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want to order again?
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jasperwhitcock · 4 years
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hi, ur writing is really good and i was wondering if u could write a short story of like the summer inbetween twilight and new moon? like some cute romantic meadow scene or them hanging out in bellas room acting all cute and stuff. thank u so much
thank u so much! 🥺♡♡♡
also i’ve totally failed u. u asked for cute & romantic but since i’ve just finished midnight sun, i delivered grief and heartbreak instead. i should have written for bella’s POV but. i’m HURT. minor midnight sun spoilers. tw: drug mention
The iridescence of my brightly shining skin reflected onto the rich darkness of Bella’s long hair, highlighting the red tint that only made its appearance in the sun. Beneath the golden rays enveloping our meadow in light, her warm, translucent skin was a lovely shade of cream and apricot. If I were to break from my absolute stillness, the movement would send rainbows dancing along the ivory of her cheek, the hollow of her neck, the curve of her collarbones, illuminating her ephemeral springtime beauty in the midst of summer.
I watched as she turned another page in her worn down paperback book, her face positioned downwards towards the place where it lay atop the wildflowers. Without looking up, she reached for the glass lemonade bottle on the ground before me. I was far more diligent in ensuring her food and beverage needs were being met now. I grasped the bottle for her, twisted off the aluminum cap, and placed it into her slender fingers.
“Thank you.” Her deep, chocolate eyes left the page briefly to bore into mine as a small, kind smile pulled at her pink lips. Her expression cut into me, piercing me, making my dead heart sting as it always did when she looked at me this way. Her glances both thrilled and devastated me. How many more smiles would I be allowed to receive? Knowing they were quantifiable made each one overwhelm me with longing and agony.
I smiled lightly in response, then, once her attention diverted from me again, allowed my expression to be marred by the complexity and anguish that overcame me.
I felt around the ridges of the cap still in my hand, reminded of the token I’d once carried with me from our first lunch together – the symbol of the marvel that I’d been the one she’d said yes to. The mnemonic of hope I couldn’t allow myself to bask in but still placed on the music rack atop my piano, and, despite the sadness of the song, inspired so much desire and promise within me. The memento that had been destroyed in an empty chapel, and with it, the prerogative of any connection to her at all. 
What was once a symbol of something miraculous was now a reminder of great tragedy. I shouldn’t be the beneficiary of her yes. There was no hope to be had for me any longer. And despite any promises I’d made, my ties to her were just as ephemeral as she was.
I thought of the first time we’d come to this meadow, and the intricacy of detangling the knot of all of our potential futures. How I promised – no, swore – not to hurt her only to then break that promise too. How she’d asked, “is there no hope, then?” in that pivotal moment.
Of course there’d always be hope. Hope that should only be reserved for someone like Bella.
I surrendered the cap onto the ground.
“Bella,” I breathed, desperate now with the awareness of the little time I had left with the greatest happiness of my existence. She looked up, raising her thin eyebrows. I relaxed first my face, then the urgency of my voice, masquerading my pain as teasing. “Isn’t it customary for high school students to procrastinate their summer reading until a week prior to the semester?”
The v between her forehead relaxed after my change in tone. Sheepishly, she grinned.
“Technically, Romeo and Juliet isn’t our summer reading. I’m reading ahead.” Of course, I knew this, but I’d say anything now to hear her voice while I still could.
“As though you haven’t read it before. Isn’t there something else you’d like to do to occupy your summertime?” Before she could come up with any of her own ideas, I pitched, “spend time with your friends, attend an amusement park, maybe go to the beach?”
“You’re welcome to boogie board in La Push if that’s what you’d like to do,” she snorted at the impossibility, closing her book and placing it beside her. “I’m sure they’d love to have you. I’ll be here reading when you’re done.”
I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm, before getting to the truth I wished to avoid. “I don’t want you to waste all of your summertime with me.” I was both desperate to keep her and desperate to keep her away from me.
Her chin jerked up stubbornly, her eyes narrowing. “And what if that’s exactly how I’d like to waste all of my summertime?”
“Isn’t this the final opportunity to embrace your adolescence before you can be tried as an adult?” I spiraled as I made the joke though keeping my lighthearted mask, but the mention of her upcoming birthday made the both of us wince. Her aging was the most right thing in the universe, and yet, the thought of the minute changes in her face as time’s despicable clock ticked away on her life and her place in my own felt horribly wrong. Though she would never tell the difference, she recovered before I did.  
“What exactly is your idea of a typical human summer activity in this scenario? Robbing a bank?” She snapped.
As always, she found ways to soften my affliction. I laughed aloud.
“No, that’s much too advanced a criminal activity for you. Leave grand theft to the professionals,” I grinned widely, winking. Her heart sped, and her eyes blinked rapidly.
“So a misdemeanor then,” she stated after recuperating, narrowing her eyes in mock thought as though she were seriously considering her options. “Are you asking me to smoke pot? You know, I don’t think it’d help your case with Charlie if he found out you were being a bad influence on me.”
“I am a bad influence on you,” I reminded her, reaching to pull her into my arms so that she was seated in my lap, her face inches from mine. The beat of her heart sped again, and an exquisite flush of rose bloomed in her cheeks. I was enveloped in her warmth which was so much stronger than the sun and so much more the center of my own universe and the sweetness of her floral fragrance that was the indication of her precious life.  
“This is not so bad,” she mumbled, slightly out of breath. “I’m curious though… What would happen if you were to smoke pot?”
I ignored her question as my lips found the hollow of her throat, kissing the mesmerizing heat of her skin. Bella gasped, and I froze in response, weighing the power of my involuntary reflexes. After a moment, I returned to exploring the curve of her neck, the softness of her jaw.
“If this is you being a bad influence,” she stammered, nearly panting. “Or a bad way to embrace my adolescence…” Bella let out a shuddering sigh, losing her train of thought. “This is how I’d like to spend my summer,” she stated finally.
It was a bad way. The worst way, and yet, this was exactly how I wanted to spend my summer – and the rest of my summers for that matter – too. 
also i am def not suggesting weed is bad lmfao but u know... these bitches are mormons
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primergon · 4 years
Text
our love has gone cold ,you're intertwining your soul with somebody else , optimus / fem!reader
Summary : “ I don’t think I can change the way I feel about you Prime,” You whispered in defeat, shrugging your shoulders. You look around, avoiding his gaze. You used to hate how you can never tell what he was thinking, but tonight, the expressiveness of his eyes – no, optics, nearly scared you.
The tall grass swayed with the wind, hypnotic under the half-moon looming above.
“ But we can’t always have what we want, can we?”
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Relationships: Optimus Prime/You, Optimus Prime / Reader, Optimus Prime & You
OPTIMUS was a giver.
He was kind, considerate, selfless. You can’t remember the last time he accepted anything for himself. His generosity had scared you at one point, because you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he would easily lay down his life for others, that he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt himself to protect you, that he would sacrifice everything for the sake of one person.
A Prime never puts himself first.
He was always the one to give, never to receive.
You watched him from afar, slowly approaching. Raf was the first one to spot you, and the child zipped past Miko and Jack, with a speed that would’ve given him a perfect grade in P.E, before hugging you. Soon enough, Jack and Miko followed – announcing your presence to the Base.
Once you peeled yourself away from the crowd of Autobots eager to greet you, you exchanged a few words with June, catching up on things. You and Ratchet even shared a few words, proving that it has indeed been a while since you visited.
In the end, your eyes landed on him, and you both shared a smile.
You spend the whole day with the kids, going on patrol and having lunch.
“ You’ve been traveling a lot, huh?” Miko clapped, leaning against your shoulder to look at your scrapbook. In under four months, you’ve managed to explore most of the cities in your country, earning yourself more than a handful of stories to keep the children entertained.
The afternoon peeled itself away, and before you know it, it was nightfall. You debated on whether you should ask Fowler for a ride or to ask Wheeljack to drop you off – but Optimus beat you to it, and here you are now, sitting with your legs tucked under your chin ( and shoes off, per request) against his driver’s seat.
The small crack by the window reminding just how cold the nights in Jasper could get.
“ Are you cold?” He asked, interrupting the silence.
“ Don’t worry about it.” You patted the steering wheel, “ I’m fine.”
Your fingers lingered against the surface, and you can feel the soft vibrations underneath, coaxing you to keep your hand there. Yet, you pulled away.  There was a certain kind of tension in the air, an intruder to your usual routine. The silence suggested that you’ve only met him today, even if you’ve had known him for months.
As much as you wanted to talk with him, your mouth just doesn’t work the way it used to around him.
What happened? You thought. What happened between us?
Usually, the cab would be filled with chatter, paired with your obnoxious laughter – “ Admit it Prime, you find my laughing annoying.” He would always deny it, and you hated how genuine he sounded when he claimed that your laughter reminded him of home.
It was only natural for the silence to suffocate the both of you, it was only waiting until one of caved.
“ Are you doing well?”
You can’t help but scoff at that. “ That’s very ambiguous. Physically? I’m fine. Mentally? That’s debatable. Emotionally? Let’s not even go there.”
You let out a weak laugh, but it sounded strained, forced – and Optimus must’ve sensed this, because his driving began to slow.
“ How’s – how’s Team Prime holding up? Any news on the Decepticons?”
He hesitated, nearly tumbling on his own words – and that never ceases to amaze you. Optimus was always the one for powerful speeches and moving words, to see him so unsure was unusual. You used to find it amusing, using it to poke fun at him. Now, it only made you sad – for what specific reason, you still don’t know.
As the dirt road behind you disappear under his wheels, Optimus told you what had happened the past few months. In your absence, you seemed to have missed a lot, and the Leader was more than willing to keep you up to date. Yet, that still wasn’t enough to chase away the silence – which would fight for every opportunity to leak through the seams of your conversations.
Once he ran out of things to say, you were back to listening to the asphalt road crunching under his tires.
You felt awful for not saying something - anything, but you just can’t.
There was a weight anchoring your heart, an uncomfortable weight that prevented you from saying his name on your tongue. It was like a foreign language you can’t pronounce, and so you opted to stay quiet – even if you both had to suffer for it.
“ Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
Your eyes slightly widen, giving away your surprise. “ You remembered that I sold my house ?”
While it was true that you had told him about putting your house up for sale, you didn’t expect him to actually remember it. You couldn’t even vividly recall the exact moment you’ve told him, hinting that it must’ve been something you’ve peppered into your mindless babbling weeks – no, months, ago.
And he still remembers it.
“ I remember.”
You ignore the heaviness in your heart.
“ I’m…I’m staying with my boyfriend.”
His driving stopped.
It wasn’t spontaneous – no, only Wheeljack and Smokescreen stops out of the blue. You had actually gotten a bloody nose once because of Wheeljack’s driving. You’ve never seen Optimus so concerned.
When you’re with the Prime, he was careful to slow down before hitting the breaks. Yet, you could still feel the sudden tension in his frame, the metal sizing up beneath you.
There was a moment, and you were forced to listen to the crickets outside – their chirping noisier than the sound of your breathing.
“ I see.”
He didn’t move, and you wanted to call him out for it – but you yourself were stuck, glued against the seat.
“ Optimus…” You finally croaked out.
He started the engine, only to have you open the car door, stepping out immediately.
You walked out of the road, hiking up a hill. You didn’t have to turn around to know that he was following you, his footsteps sending tremors all over the ground. Throughout the walk, you let your mind wander.
Memories began to flood your vision – you could still feel his lips against yours, ghosting against the column of your neck. His hands were warm, circling your waist, pushing back your hair. If you close your eyes, you’ll be able to hear his whispers in the dark, tracing down your skin. You’ve memorized the sound of his laughter by now, his rare and genuine moments of joy. Even when he was with you – his laughter was rare, but that didn’t stop you from etching it to the back of your mind.
You were starting to regret it, because these days it was the only sound you can hear whenever you’re alone.
There was a small stream beside you, the water trickling down a clump of rocks. The grass brushed your ankles, the dew soaking the socks peeking out of your shoes. Here, the isolation was enough to hide his towering frame from prying eyes.
You both stared at each other, waiting.
“ I’m glad to hear that…you are happy.”
For some reason, you hated how indifferent he sounded, how calm and collected he seemed. You wrapped your arms around yourself. At his words, you let out a chuckle.
Happy.
Were you happy?
You’ve only met your boyfriend a month ago. It was sudden, it was spontaneous, it was so unlike you – yet you didn’t have the heart to admit that it was more convenient than wanted. When things ended between you and Optimus, it was as if you’ve been pushed out of a boat and into the water. Out of fear, out of desperation – you’ve been trying to grab onto things to keep yourself afloat.
As cruel as it sounds, your boyfriend just so happens to be there. In the end, you’ve committed an act of selfishness, all because Optimus was too selfless to let you stay.
“ How do you know I’m happy?”
He raised his eyebrows at this.
The leaves rustled above you, shaking its branches against the breeze. “ I guess, I can be happy with him. He treats me well. He brings me flowers, he drives me home, he kisses me.”
At this Optimus tore his gaze away, staring at the flowers peeking out of the bushes.
“ I can be happy with him.” You ducked your head. “ But not as happy as I was with you.”
There was a stinging behind your eyes, trying to force out your tears – but you didn’t want to cry. Not now, not in front of him. Not when you know he could no longer bring himself to wipe them away, so you settled for tipping your head back, furiously blinking away the itch.
Your fingers wiped the corners, and you cleared your throat.
“ I can’t ask this from you.”
He sounded so defeated, so helpless, and you hated that. He was Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots. The symbol of hope, resistance, courage – so why did he sound so terrified standing before you?
You hated it.
“ Who made it your decision? It was mine too.” You argued, stepping forward. “ Yet, you didn’t even give me a chance to choose.”
Primes. You were a fool to think that you can offer him anything greater in magnitude than his primacy, than his duty, than his responsibility. When it comes to Optimus, you should have known that you could never be anything other than a liability.
A Prime is a martyr – a savior who needs to be willing to throw himself into the fire when asked. The fact that he was starting to second guess his choices when you came along was enough to scare him into ending things with you.
It was as if the thought of being selfish, even for a little bit, terrified him.
“ I don’t think I can change the way I feel about you Prime,” You whispered in defeat, shrugging your shoulders. You look around, avoiding his gaze. You used to hate how you can never tell what he was thinking, but tonight, the expressiveness of his eyes – no, optics, nearly scared you.
The tall grass swayed with the wind, hypnotic under the half-moon looming above.
“ But we can’t always have what we want, can we?”
When your eyes met, his expression was enough to make you cry. Even when you were back inside his cab, you couldn’t shake off the wounded look. For a fragment of a second, his face had shifted into one of sadness, longing, grief, regret.
Yet, he’s made his choice.
It was time for you to make yours.
When you reached home, your boyfriend was by the porch waiting for you. You had climbed out, thankful that the shadows paired by the distance concealed the empty driver’s seat. He looped his arms around your waist, twirling you around.
Your boyfriend leaned down to kiss you, and you complied, catching his lips. You spent some time by the walkway, with him embracing you. With your boyfriend’s back against the red and blue rig, you were able to watch Optimus parked under the trees – your eyes catching the way his side-view mirror reflected the tender moment.
You could almost imagine his expression, and that was enough for you to pull your boyfriend into another kiss, leaving you to listen to the sound of him driving away into the night.
That night, a part of you wished he had intervened. You wished that he had given in into his desires, into his want, into his selfishness – yet he didn’t, and you spent the entire night trying to shrug off your disappointment. You turn your body towards the window, watching as the curtains flutter against the breeze.
You could no longer feel the weight of the body next to you, and here, tonight – you feel more alone than you’ve ever been.
Optimus was a giver, you tell yourself.
He was kind, considerate, selfless. You can’t remember the last time he accepted anything for himself. Now, under the silver glow of the moon and the stillness of the night, you can remember why you were afraid of his generosity in the first place.
Optimus was a giver.
Then why does it feel like he had just taken something away from you?
A/N : I listened to The 1975′s Somebody else while writing this :,)
Will you look at the time, its sad O'clock. I love this song so much and it gave me the inspiration to write this one shot. I'm so sorry that I keep putting my characters in the same scenery, I'll try to be more diverse in my choice of...environment ? Tundra ? Setting. Yes, I'll try to explore different settings. I hope you guys like this, because I have major feels for OP and let's face it, the guy is always dying !!!
No one : Absolutely no one : Optimus : Due to personal reasons, I will be passing away
Like ??? Why ?? You did this, for what ??
Major martyr complex. This is something I had fun exploring, hope you're all well !
( If you want to submit a request, we can discuss it through my Instagram : @/primergonn ! If you don't have instagram, then feel free to leave it here, it'll show up in my inbox <3 )
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suhfleur · 4 years
Text
dear, my dear • jaebeom (intro - 1/?)
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• pairing: soulmate!jaebeom x reader
• genre: romance, angst, smut
• warnings: cursing, sexual content
• word count: 1.6k
summary: in a world where a touch can lock the doors of the heart, his voice opened the doors to your soul as he filled it with joy.
a/n: i wanted to do something emotional. So here it is.
•••
Maybe it was something about the weather that made your day start different. The sun was shining so bright it almost hurt your eyes, the few clouds in a sky toned in a shade of blue so intense thay it was as if the sun was willing to give a great gift to those who saw it. A happy scenario.
As you looked up at the sky, as soon as you left your home, you could feel re-energized, ready to face another day full of emotional challenges. At least so far you feel you could make it.
The vibration in your phone made your heart beat faster, anxiously waiting for that message to come from the one that didn't come out of your head.
New message from def.
[06:40] def: Good morning, sunshine. Ready to conquer the world today? :)
You grinned, letting out a slight laugh through your lips. How could someone you have never seen in your life have so much power over your feelings?
[06:41] loftv: I'm not really confident that I can conquer the world, but I think I can earn at least a good grade on this accounting test! Have you had your breakfast and your vitamin C? If you still have the flu, I'll hit you.
You met him a little over three months ago, when you accidentally found his Soundcloud page and, oh man, you were so grateful about this day.
At first, you were enchanted by his voice and how he knew how to build his music and convey enough emotion that you could feel it all, as if you were experiencing everything with him. Song after song you could understand everything he was talking about, even in the sexy songs that weren't sexy enough to make you embarrassed, but maybe they were enough to mess you up, but you wouldn't admit it.
With each release of a new song from him, you felt your stomach turn over and over again and someone really needed to tell him how his songs brought peace. So you thought, why not me?
And that's where it all started.
You sent him a private message, just in order to express your feelings about those songs and that's all, it never crossed your mind that he would stop to even see that message, and not only he did see it, he answered too. Your kind words were answered with thrilled words, full of excitement, you had massaged his ego and his heart with your sincere words and he truly felt grateful for that. And when you thought that was all, there is where it comes your friendship.
He would release a song, you would comment something and boom, you two always manage to make a totally random conversation that was out of the main topic. Just like you two knew each other for a long time. It was something funny to see growing.
First, you two started with short messages, most of the time, he texted asking your opinion about a song he was composing or a beat he thought he was doing wrong. Then began the little questions like "can you help me with your opinion on this song? How was your day?", and after that, everything was built in a natural and simple way.
But you two kept your identities a secret, even the real names, which would be a stupid idea for you if you weren't the person who suggested it. Maybe even today you think it's stupid, but your insecurities and fears screamed way louder in your chest than the urge to see him up close.
Everything was built so perfectly, what if you met and your real friendship was not what you two expected? That's what you liked to say, but the truth is that maybe you were nothing like what he expected and that thought was the only thing that made you afraid.
These thoughts about everything that has been going on, kept you out of orbit, always, and while thinking about it you always got to the subway without even realizing it.
The subway station was full, as usual, and you should have gotten used to it, after all you were the one who chose to study at a university on the other side of the city, but still, sometimes you felt pure and intense laziness about having to deal with so many people and about being eventually touched by them also, especially when you could found your soulmate like that.
A touch.
In all your years of life so far, you thought it was silly and theatrical, why should you be predestined for someone you might not even know? It sounded stupid, it is stupid, that's what you always claim. But your friends always described to you that finding your soulmate was overwhelming, not in the sense of oh I just met the person I supposed to spend the rest of my life with, but the most like oh my god my whole body is being raptured because I just touched someone else. Sunny said that when she found her match, her heart nearly popped out of her mouth, the intense need to search for more of that person was fascinating.
All that you heard seemed... too good.
You just wanted to not think about it, not think about the idea of people having expectations about you, about expecting you to be everything they always dreamed of. You just wanted to be you and you alwaus could be you with him.
Always with him.
Taking your cell phone out of your pocket, you open your conversation with def as you hear the sound of his voice bring peace to your soul.
[07:07] loftv: The station is so full that I can barely breathe. What would I be without listening to you? Pure stress. I owe you lots of drinks.
[07:08] def: can I change the drinks for back massage? I’m getting old and sick...
[07:08] def: cof cof...
[07:08] def: :(
You laugh to yourself.
[07:09] loftv: Why are you being so dramatic for? It’s 7 a.m., come on!
[07:09] def: trying to persuade you. wanna see you before dying, lily of the valley.
Lily of the Valley. You always wondered why he called you that. You asked him why, but the answer was always the same: "when we see each other face to face, maybe I'll tell you about it.”
[07:11] loftv: I promise we are going to see each other, ok? Just let this test period pass. I promise. Trust me.
[07:12] def: you listen to my awful unfinished beats, of course I trust you.
[07:13] def: I have to go now. talk to you later, loftv.
You smile to yourself and put your phone away again, watching the crowd and the nothing extraordinary people there, but you found yourself looking at that specific face just a few steps ahead of you.
He was always there on Thursdays, at 7:15am. In a gray and black plaid shirt over a gray tank top, the black hair that had once been in a mullet was now just below his eyes, the once discreet piercing was now replaced by a small silver hoop and he kept writing something on the his phone.
The subway guy was handsome. As fuck.
Whenever you saw him, every Thursday, you would think "wow, whoever has this man as a soulmate will be lucky". You even thought it wouldn't hurt to have him as your soul mate. Honestly. His side profile was a killer point.
Your funny thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the train, and along with that, the absurd movement of people crowding in front of the door while you were dragged unwillingly.
Today was a day of hell, apparently.
People kept pushing you as you tried to get on the train, until the moment they pushed you onto someone and your whole body broke down.
You felt a specific hand grasp your wrist so you wouldn't fall, and with that tiny touch your body fumed as an electric shock of pure adrenaline ran through your body, from toe to the last strand of hair. You felt breathless, your heart was running over its own beats, and an overwhelming urge to cry rose in your chest, as if he were shouting "oh, I finally found you."
You tried to turn your head to find the owner of that hand, but soon you were already pushed into the train, while your eyes went desperately searching for that someone.
Then the doors closed and the train departed.
Your kepft static for a long time as you tried to assimilate why and you could hear Sunny's words in the back of your head.
The need to search for more.
The trip to your destination was a big and confusing blur. Your heart was still pounding and somehow you were happy.
Your day went by wind, you still could not put your head in place, everything so twisted that you spent the bigger part of the day without talking to def, which rarely happened in all these months.
It was night when you regained some of your brain back, while leaving work.
Sunny felt you out of orbit through class and at work, but decided not to question. She probably knew that only one thing could ruin you like that, and for now, she wouldn't talk about that. So she said she would take you home, even if her home were in the opposite side of yours.
As you directed yourself toward her car, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw two messages from def on your phone.
[9:00 pm] def: loftv...
[9:09 pm] def: i just found my soulmate. a few minutes ago.
And while you were sitting in the passenger seat of Sunny's car, you felt your chest burn a little.
He had found someone who wasn't you.
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neighborhood-merc · 5 years
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It is I, and I am back with more a new list of fanfics for this wonderful ship called SpideyPool. 
Listen, I don’t know why I’m doing this as well (maybe because I fuckin love these boys and want to share my fave fanfics of their ship to everyone...or whatever) but here we are. [ Here are Part 1, 3 btw! ]  
Same shit applies:
The themes of the stories on this list varies, I’m either into something heart-warming, fluffy, domestic that sort of stuff or into some really really heavy and dark messed up ones. It always depends on the mood am I right? *wink wink*
It’s always gonna be smutty though lol
As long as it’s tastefully written, whatever kinky shit, I can be into it, I don’t judge the writer. With that being said if I add something straight up messed up here now/or in the future, don’t judge too, just mind the tags of the fic, for your own discretion if anything.
this list should be Wade Wilson/Peter Parker - Spiderman/Deadpool pairing only. I kinda like my babies greedy/possessive for/of each other.
I don’t care who tops or bottoms.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Summaries are taken directly from the fanfic’s summary.
Read the tags first!
Wolves [ Update: Sadly, the fic has been deleted :( ] (This is WIP, but I swear it’s so fucking good you should read it. It’s a Prison AU, and the writing is sublime)  Peter is falsely accused and sent to jail, where he meets the violent ex-mercenary, Wade.
Don't Forget To Check Your Calendar! Peter REALLY should remember to check his calendar or Peter forgets that he has a heat coming up, and in doing so causes several sticky situations to occur (thank god for Tony's NDA's).
Communication Error “Have you seriously been doing this bit for a year now?” “Bit… what bit?” Wade looked at him, confused. “This,” Peter waved his hand, “the 'we’re dating' bit.” There was a pause, and then suddenly, it was like Wade’s whole body imploded. His shoulders sunk and his head dropped and suddenly Peter knew he’d made a huge mistake. “Hahaha, yeah, the dating bit.” He held up the wine. “One year of one really bad, horrible joke.”
Night Off Wade is taking the night off when a certain Spider calls for help.
The Great Florist, Wade Wilson (this ones got a Sequel) Deadpool has found the apartment belonging to Spiderman. Or Peter Parker, if the name on the door is anything to go by. Now some people might use this information of said secret identity wrongly. Normally Wade would have been one of them. But this is different. This is Spider-Parker, I-mean, Peter-man, I-mean, fuck. Now Deadpool just have to figure out exactly what he is gonna do with this information. Which is quite simple really. He's going to leave Spidey flowers and win his heart this way or the one, where Deadpool spams Spiderman with flowers, and Spiderman has no idea what's going on
Tale As Old As Time, Song As Old As Rhyme (This belongs to the series  “A Spider in the Pool”) It is absolutely fucking good, I recommend you read them. Do read the warnings though yeah?) Peter Parker gradually falls for Wade's dubious charms. They have a lot of hang ups and kinks to negotiate, but with sex this hot, Peter can't help wanting more. Erotica with significant plot and relationship development.
Help Me, Peter Parker, You’re My Only Hope! “I need your help,” Wade admitted. “And why would I help you?” Peter asked with an amused chuckle. “Because, um, I asked you? Isn’t it what you do? Help people who ask for it?”
Damage Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.
I'm Serious Wade wants Peter to top. But he really, really doesn't know how to ask.
Shake it out (this series is a good boi)
Sick Days  "Wade." "Mr. Rogers." They stared at each other, one calm and silent in his fury while the other looked like a deer about to be pummeled by an eighteen-wheeler. "I'm sure you have a reason for being in my son's bed without a shirt on?"
Love Me Dead Peter tries to tell Wade his feelings. It's kind of a train-wreck.
Disgusting -Spideypool (5+1) This is a Wade Centric fic containing topics of mental health struggles and self image. Nothing too graphic but still.
Flip the Safety They both get a little carried away when they fight, but this time Wade grins over his gun and the worst part is that Peter knows he doesn’t plan on shooting him.
Do It Yourself “I bet you’re flexible enough to suck your own dick.” Wade plants that thought in Peter's head and he can't help where curiosity leads him.
Looking for a savior in these dirty streets  (WADE YOU LITTLE SHIT LOL) what's your opinion on eating ass? just looking for a yes or noThat's the text Peter gets when he's in a meeting with Anna Maria, trying his hardest to get back to running a company a few months after an unexpected trip to the underworld.
Act your age (not your shoe size) “Wanna go grab some grub? I have it on good authority there's some qual-a-tee Mexican around here.”Peter’s mouth drops open. “Uh, you always invite guys you just met out for lunch?” Deadpool laughs and leans forward. The words are muffled when he says, “Only the ones I meet in movie theaters.”
That's the power of love (cute af fic) “Yeah, so, about that. Nice to meet ya, I’m Wade Wilson but def not your Wade Wilson although I gotta say, I’m jealous of the asshole.”
Baby, i’d victoria your secret anytime (another good boy) Peter’s known Wade for a while now, so he can maybe see how this makes sense -- like, maybe Wade has a thing about going commando and just happened to have an old girlfriend’s panties lying around, one thing led to another…but…“And the bra?” Peter croaks.
It's The Alcohol Talking It wasn't every day that Wade came across a drunk-off-his-ass Spider-man.
Marco (this is fuckin’ hurt ok???) Spidey was fine. Everything was going to be fine.
Took no time with the fall (Part One of “wasn’t looking for this” series) When the Avengers had briefed him on Deadpool, they played up the Kills People for Money and Has No Real Morals angle and left out the Is Pretty Damn Funny and Charming in a Weird, Terrifying Sort of Way part.Or, five times they meet on rooftops plus one time they take it to the streets*
Now you're in my way (Part Two of “wasn’t looking for this” series) Wade's been with the Avengers for four months. The two of them have been together for five.Their relationship consists of taco-based dates, a ton of sex, and, well, Avenging.
The Stalking of Wade Wilson "It’s around this point that a niggling thread of thought worms its way into his head when he’s not paying attention, one that gently suggests that Wade might be slightly less of a bad guy than Peter previously thought."
Seeing the real you (it's not what I imagined) "The fuck,“ Deadpool said slowly. He was staring at him in a way that made Peter feel decidedly uncomfortable, and this was saying something, considering Deadpool had a habit of leering at him at the most inappropriate times. "Are you kidding me?" he eventually gasped. "How OLD are you? Twelve?“
I'll Always Protect You Anonymous said: If anyone is up for it I have a rescue prompt idea where Peter (he is not in his spiderman suit) is taken as a hostage with a gun to the head along with a few other civilians. Peter is warning the criminals to let everyone go otherwise his fiance,Wade, will kill them all. They mock him and beat him up. Then a furious Deadpool saves Peter by the most badass way possible. Also I would love if someone write how unnervingly skilled Wade is as a mercenary. Please? Anyone?
Your ass is mine  Spidey takes a toilet break while on patrol. He wasn't expecting Wade to join him.
When I'm Inside You Spiders are hard to catch. When Deadpool manages to pin one down on an NYC rooftop, he thinks he deserves a prize.
Daddy It had started as a joke, which was conveniently how most of these things always happened.
Any Means Necessary Anonymous said: Abo au where Peter is a young mutant who both displayed his heat early before his adolscent stage and spidey powers that went out of haywire the moment his heat started, leaving him to thrash around the city, running away from his family. Wade Wilson, an alpha, who happens to be a professional mercenary for hire, is now paid to catch this mutant, and try and calm him down by “any means necessary” because Peter, even as an omega is swrecking havoc amongst the city. [ 1/2 ] Of course, Wade takes those words seriously, and decides to just do that solution by first, capturing and drugging the young omega, and then, placing him in what could be described as a special and adjustable breeding stand in Wade’s attempts to calm Peter down. [ 2/2 ]
One Fear (Two Fear), Red Rear (Pink Rear) (Note: Now this is where “read the tags first” is applicable af. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you dude) Anonymous said: Hello, another one for you: Deadpool adopts MCU Spidey and treats him like his actual child. That is until Peter starts growing up more and Wade can't help but feel attracted to him. At around age 15, Peter starts actively trying to seduce Wade. Wade resists, but in the end gives in. My kingdom for hardcore daddy kink, Sub!Peter, Wade calling him a good boy/baby boy. 
Wo Rauch Ist (this fic is fucking gold) "Someone needs to write a ‘the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear’ AU" 
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Not your fault part two
A/N: this is technically a part two but you def don’t need to read the first one to read this one! The only thing you need to know is that Emily is the adoptive daughter of Stan, Bill and Richie and that’s it. I you want to see any type of other request just send them in! 
Summary: Stan, Bill and Richie return to Derry along side their daughter. Pennywise kidnaps her.  
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‘Emily please come back here.’ Stan pleaded, his voice rough as the tears continued to stream down his face like waterfalls. His hand reached out toward his daughter, who doesn’t even so much as glance towards him. ‘Emily’, Stan tries again desperately, his heart is beating in his chest so hard he can hear it, the blood still seeping down his face where he got hit, yet there is still no reaction. A door jingles left of them, it’s Bill and Richie, Stan guesses, but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes of her, afraid that she might disappear if he does so. ‘Stan, Emily open this fucking door’, Richie cries out breathlessly, the pounding on the door getting more insistent with the second. Stan stand up shakily, he has to press his hand against the wall to stay upright, and he takes a hesitant step forward.
As his hand leaves the wall a bloody handprint is left in its place, seemingly taunting Bill, who just manages to glance into the room enough to the handprint. Instantly Bill feels the panic consume him. He can’t see Stan, but he did hear him call out to their daughter, so at least he’s still breathing. Emily however is not responding to any of Stan calls, nor to Richie’s or Bill’s. ‘Stan, Stan, p-p-please talk to us. W-w-what’s happening?’ The stutter makes Bill pause for a second, shocked that for the first time in 20 years, he can’t pronounce his words without stuttering anymore. It’s an indication of the absolute terror consuming his body, but he does his best to suppress it, and after a brief pause, his slamming on the door intensified. The door almost seems to give way to his shoulder slams, and Richie lets out a brief cry, filled with relief, but then the door slams shut once again. ‘Guys, guys fuck please we need help, please help us’, Richie calls out to their friends, but the truth is that neither Stan nor Bill nor Richie has seen their friends since they ran out of the hotel to find Emily. Richie cries out against all hope, because he knows there is no one here to help them.
Stan takes another slow step towards Emily, placing his hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking her. He knows what he’ll see, because Emily has never ever ignored him without reason. Expecting something, and it actually happening however, are two completely different things. When Stan moves in front of her, a sob leaves his lips before he can even think to keep it in. It makes Bill and Richie try even harder to open the door, but still the door stubbornly refuses to open.
 Emily’s eyes are wide open, but her irises is completely gone, the forest green disappeared and in its wake is nothing left but white. The expression on her face is one of purse terror. Her mount is dropped open, her eyes unabashed staring forward towards one spot and her body rigid. Stan has only once seen this look on someone’s face, 27 years ago, when it was on Beverly’s. Hesitantly he places his hand against her cheek, pulling away quickly when he notices how cold she really is, before firmly placing his hand at the same spot again, stroking it lovingly.
The tears that had briefly stopped, start back up and this time Stan calls out to Bill and Richie, finally acknowledging their presence. ‘Richie, Bill. I.. IT,’ Stan finally whimpers out, ‘IT has her’.
His words seem to break whatever spell the door was under, as finally the door breaks down. Bill and Richie rush in, but both stop once they see Stan’s face and the body of their daughter standing there as stiff as a board. She’s not levitating, like Bev was, but it seems as that was only done to trick the three boys, to make them think she might be okay, and then rip away that hope.
Stan is sobbing and Bill, ever the leader, takes it upon himself to pull his head towards his chest, to be the rock that hold Stan and Richie together. Stan never lets himself cry in front of people, the fact that he now drops down on his knees, into the disgusting floor of the house on Neibolt street, while he presses his face against Bill’s stomach, is proof that he is completely broken down and wrecked.
Bill is squeezing his eyes shut, like he can’t look at Emily because he knows he will break down if he does. Richie does look at her and the tears well up in his own eyes, but he pushes them back, crying won’t save his daughter. He presses his lips to her forehead gently before turning towards Stan and Bill, grabbing both of their hands.
‘We need the save her, we saved Beverly when we were fucking 13, so now we can definitely save our daughter as 40 year old goddamnit’. His voice cracks as he says it, but he stubbornly refuses to give up.
Bill is already starting to nod his head, ‘rich is right, we can save her, we just need to find IT’. He breaths
Stan looks up from where he was buried in Bill’s stomach, the tears still flowing down his cheeks. ‘What if we can’t? What if we lost her forever?’
‘We haven’t, nothing, not even a m-m-motherfucking clown can keep us from our daughter, let go save her’. Bill whispers as he presses his forehead against Stan’s, while Richie wraps his arms around the both of them. The three of them taking comfort in each other for a second, before standing up with determination. As Stan lifts his head a bloodspot appears on the spot where his head was previously, and Richie shudders. He can still hear the crack from Stan’s head hitting the stairs at pennywise dragged him down the stairs, and into the room where they were currently at.
They had been stupid, they should have waited for their friends to catch up. Instead they were so overcome with worry that as soon as they opened the fortune cookies and matched the sentence, they couldn’t get into Neibolt fast enough. Hope you said goodbye to Emily, because I’m going to kill her, the sentence had said. Bill blames himself, he was the one that suggested them leaving Emily alone in the hotelroom, because he had an uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t want his daughter anywhere near the town. Turns out, Emily should have come with them to the Chinese restaurant. She was left all alone, defenseless and an easy target for IT to take her. Bill shakes his head to clear his thoughts. His daughter needs him now, he can’t waste any time.
‘Pennywise, where the hell are you?’ Bill bellowed. He didn’t have a clue what else to do, how else to save his daughter. Stan’s head snapped in his direction. ‘Stop, Bill, what are you doing’? he hissed, moving his hand to covers Bill mouth. Richie stopped him, all while shaking his head. ‘Let him come, How else or we supposed to help Emily’? He asked.
Stan’s entire body was shaking, and for a second he was worried he would pass out. Then he looked at Emily, and a protective feeling washed over him. He wasn’t going to let some clown take away his family.  ‘Hey asshole, where are you?’ his voice didn’t shake as much as Stan had expected, and he prided himself for it dearly.
A painting, located at the far end of the wall their backs were facing, fell down, moment distracting them for a fleeting moment. As they faced away from the teenage girl, IT appeared behind her. The clown grinned, a wide, disturbing smirk that seemed to portray his horrifying pleasure in torturing his victims, waiting for a few moments before Richie turned back around with a whisk. Richie gasped, immediately reaching out for Bill’s arm. Bill and Stan both turned around, and for a split second nobody moved. Then Pennywise began to cackle closing his hand around Emily’s neck, not quite squeezing yet, but putting enough pressure that the three men reached forward without thinking.
Pennywise stepped backwards, dragging a limp Emily with him. ‘No’, Richie called out straight away, ‘please stop, don’t hurt her,’ He begged. He wanted this fucking clown dead, but if him begging on his knees is what would get his daughter back, then he wouldn’t hesitate.
‘Oh, oh, oh now why would I do that? We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right songbird’? Pennywise smirked once again, moving Emily’s head up and down, as if she was just agreeing.
Stan tensed, the nickname being the one he gave Emily, the one he always called her. He had no idea how IT knew all of these things, but one thing was for sure, Stan didn’t want his little girl here any longer than he had too.
IT brushed the hair out of her face, taunting the three losers standing before him. Bill clenched his fist together tightly, fighting against every fiber in his body to reach forward, he knew that he couldn’t make any sudden movements, Emily’s life depended on it.
‘You have us, we’re here, you can let her go now. You have us to feed on, you can take revenge on us, just please let her go’, bill spoke with brittle voice. It seemed like his words had to opposite effect, as instead of letting her go, Pennywise tightened his hand around her throat, going as for as to draw blood.
Stan let out an angry cry, ‘let her go’. Pennywise just shook his hand giggling as he did so.
‘she begged so nicely, clearly she didn’t learn that from her parents. She kept asking me to let her go home, to her papa and dad and pops, but you didn’t show up’.
‘You motherfucker, I’m going to fucking kill you’, Richie screeched, but Stan and Bill could hear how effected he was by IT’s words. All of them were.
‘please just, take us. That’s what you wanted right? To get us here so you could kill us? Well we’re here now, so come on, go ahead and kill us.’ Stan spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion. It was the sound that Stan often made before shutting down, or having an anxiety attack.
‘No, I think I might be a bit hungry’, Pennywise let out with a grating laugh, before opening his mount, showing his row of teeth, and without any second of doubt, he bit a piece of Emily’s neck of.
A guttural scream raced through the room, neither of the lovers knowing which one of them made the sound. Emily’s body dropped down on the floor, her eyes returning to normal, but that just made it worse. The blood was dripping from her neck where a huge gaping wound was staring at the three, her eyes staring lifeless into the eyes of her pops, her limbs a in heap on the floor.
Pennywise disappeared as fast as he had appeared, leaving Stan, Bill and Richie to their grief. Richie leaped forward, as if trying to catch her before she fell to the floor, even though she already landed there. He pulled her into his chest, weeping like he had never done before, not even when Henry Bowers had outed him in front of the whole school, or even when his mother had died. His hands tried to cover her wound, but it was to big and the blood kept pouring out like a faucet was turned on.
Stan had tears in his eyes he was desperately trying to blink away, the knowledge of his songbird being dead not registering in his muddled brain. ‘She’s fine, Rich, stop crying she’s fine’. Stan’s voice gets hysterical, his pitch getting louder and louder. He looks to Bill, big strong Bill, their leader, who will surely have the answer to fix this mess.
Bill however, is sobbing. He screams out and Stan can see the moment his knees are too unstable to keep him up, so he falls down. He sinks to his knees, ‘not again, not again’, he moans out over and over, until even that becomes too much. He places his hand on the floor and places his forehead on the floor, and his mouth open in a silent scream. Stan reaches his hands in Bill’s hair, trying to force his head up from the floor. Stan is still not crying, but inside, it feel life his heart is just ripped out.
Richie shuffles closer, still with Emily in his lap, he’s kissing her forehead over and over again, as If somehow that’s gonna make her come back. Stan reaches out with his other hand and tries to pry Richie's hand away from Emily’s wound, but Richie is not budging, Stan lets his hand rest over his hand anyway.
‘Dad, pops, papa, where the hell are you guys’? A delicate voice calls out. The voice sound sa bit scared, as if the person doesn’t what she’s doing here. Stan, Bill and Richie’s head jump up at the sound. The voice sounds like their daughter, but their daughter is right here, bleeding out as the life has been sucked from her.
Beverly, Ben, Eddie and Mike run in the room their eyes wide and searching, their breathing slowing own just a tat when they see that Bill, Stan and Richie physically alright. Right after they run in, Emily comes running in, her chest slightly heaving. Stan lets out a sob, he doesn’t realize what he’s seeing, just a moment ago he saw Pennywise kill her, but now she’s standing right there, clearly alive. Richie glances back to his arms, but where moments ago Emily’s corpse was lying, there’s nothing. The blood on his hand from her neck wound is not there anymore, and Richie finally pieces the story together. ‘Motherfucker’, he whispers out angrily, pounding his fist on the floor one time, as if to make sure that seeing his daughter alive is reality. His fist stings, but Richie has never felt such a grateful feeling before.
Bill is the first one to move, he jumps up, his arms circling around his daughters small frame, burying his face in her hair. He’s still sobbing, but he ant find any part in him that cares, for he has never been this grateful for something is his life. Stan stands up next, wrapping his arms around both Bill and Emily, placing his hand in her hair to press her even closer to them, and finally Richie moves aswell, standing behind her, his body towering over her as if he can protect her from all the bad in the world with that one movement.
‘oh sweetheart, oh you have no idea how happy we are to see you.’
The other losers look at them in slight distress. They have no idea what the hell happened, but they know that whatever it was, it was truly bad.
‘How, how are you okay? Where were you?’ Stan asks breathlessly while he checks Emily over to make sure she isn’t injured.
‘I thought it was weird that Pennywise would go after Emily right away, she wasn’t scared at all because she didn’t know what was happening, so me and Ben went to the hotel room to make sure she wasn’t just there’. Mike says with a small smile, feeling extremely happy that everyone is fine
‘She was’, Ben added with a small smile.
Stan lets out a deep breath before pressing his lips against Emily’s hair, internally grateful for how she leans into him a little bit.
‘Let’s get her the hell out of this fucking town’, Bill whispers before pulling away slightly, still keeping Emily at arm’s length.
‘Yeah, let’s not traumatize her with showing her the places we fucked when we were teenagers,’ Richie laughs wetly, while wiping away the remaining tears on his face.
‘Dad, gross, I did not want to know that’, Emily cried out, burring her face into her own hands. She’s smiling though, and she keeps smiling until she falls asleep in the car on the way out of Derry, feeling safe in the presence off her fathers.
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cafedisco3 · 4 years
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BOY’S CRY
Before sharing his story with the world and becoming one of the most important artists of our time, Frank Ocean was a high school graduate in New Orleans scouring for jobs to pay for studio time to record his potential projects. In August 2005, Hurricane Katrina wreaked havoc across the region, provoking Ocean’s move from New Orleans to Los Angeles, California. It was in California that Frank eventually found his opening into the music industry. Landing a songwriting deal, he began ghostwriting for many of the biggest artists we know today: Justin Bieber (“Bigger”, 2008) and Beyoncé (“I Miss You”, 2009). In 2009, he started working with Odd Future, specifically Tyler, the Creator - one of his best friends, who played a pivotal role in encouraging him to continue writing songs, but for himself. Through Odd Future, Frank was able to meet Producer, Tricky Stewart who eventually introduced him to an American Record Label: Def Jam Recordings. Though this deal was meant to serve as his platform for releasing music, out of frustration he released his first mixtape, nostalgia, ULTRA, for free download on Tumblr. Frank explained that he was frustrated with the label for not being supportive of his efforts after signing. Regardless of the heightened tension in Frank’s relationship with the label, this mixtape ignited the spark of his fame to follow. Frank’s pilot success with this mixtape allowed his standing to grow tremendously, eliciting feature requests from A-listers such as Jay-Z and Kanye West, but for the most part, Frank remained highly selective with his craft and unwaveringly loyal to Tyler and Odd Future. 
This origin story is only the tip of the elusive iceberg that is Frank Ocean. Since before the days of nostalgia, ULTRA, Frank has been selective with his public interactions. Once a ghostwriter for pop stars and then a secret weapon among Odd Future’s large roster, playing the background seemed to come naturally to him. However, the star within him proved too bright to contain. Still, since his rise in stature, rather than outwardly embracing the fame that was guaranteed, he chose instead to remain guarded with his art and protective of his image. Over time, this has allowed him to meticulously reveal himself on his own terms, using his art as a way to give insight into his identity. It was only when speculations about his sexuality began to circle through the hip-hop and pop community prior to the release of his debut studio album, channel ORANGE, that the once-guarded artist decided to become candid in a way he never previously attempted; on his Tumblr, through an open letter to his fans titled Thank You, Frank went on to reveal his bisexaulity:  
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Credit: http://frankocean.tumblr.com/post/26473798723
I don’t think I’m exaggerating in the slightest when I say that this letter was a beautiful, poetic exemplification of love. In typical Frank fashion, it wasn’t an overt admission of anything, because there isn’t anything to admit. We are who we are, and according to Frank, that is “human beings spinning on blackness”. According to Frank we are a lot more alike than we are different, regardless of our race, cultures or sexual identity. He chose to focus on what makes us all similar as humans, and if he revealed or confirmed something about himself that wasn’t clear to you in the process, then so be it. His sexuality wasn’t the point of the letter. The letter was about empathy and love. The letter was about being human. In an era were child-suicide rates were increasingly linked to homophobia and transphobia, especially in black and latino communities, Frank used his story to humanize those who had been historically demonized. 
This letter birthed a chapter for Frank’s influence. When channel ORANGE arrived that following summer, these feelings of self-discovery through heartache and unrequited love reverberated all throughout the tracklist. The album itself was named after the summer detailed in his letter, the summer during which he first fell in love with another man. Frank dropping this album and his Thank You letter was powerful, valiant move. He cut through the lingering homophobia of the time and crafted a tale of perseverance and acceptance. This album allowed me, someone with completely different experiences, to appreciate his journey. He successfully detached himself from the increasingly materialistic world of the music industry and turned his art into statements that effectively captured the current state of the human condition.
There are two songs off of channel ORANGE that I believe are worth highlighting. The first is “Bad Religion”: 
Taxi driver Be my shrink for the hour Leave the meter running It's rush hour So take the streets if you wanna Just outrun the demons, could you He said "Allahu akbar", I told him don't curse me “Bo Bo, you need prayer,” I guess it couldn't hurt me If it brings me to my knees It's a bad religion This unrequited love To me it's nothing but a one-man cult And cyanide in my Styrofoam cup I can never make him love me Never make him love me Love It's a bad religion To be in love with someone Who could never love you I know Only bad religion Could have me feeling the way I do
This is a story of longing, of internal conflict and crippling self-doubt. With no one to turn to, Frank resigns to confessing his deepest, most closely guarded truths in the backseat of a taxi, and his thoughts betray the confidence that many of his fans may have prematurely branded him with. These confessional thoughts instead show him in his most fragile state, one in which he seems internalize years of homophobic rhetoric. The stigma that homosexaulity or sexual fluidity is a sin, is amoral, and requires prayer and absolution is so deeply ingrained in society that Frank doesn’t even flinch when the taxi driver basically tells him to pray away his desires. Instead, he chooses grasp onto the suggestion, wondering if maybe he should find a way to detach himself from the unrequited love that has brought him so much pain - whether through religion or drugs. This song is a heart-wrenching discussion of the internal struggle felt by Frank throughout the journey detailed in his letter. Frank’s lyrics expertly navigate self-hate and heartbreak, and his execution features a stunning vocal performance that evokes a deep, soulful pain that feels universally applicable to all humans. 
The second song of importance would be “Forrest Gump”: 
I wanna see your pom poms from the stands Come on, come on My fingertips, and my lips, they burn From the cigarettes Forrest Gump you run my mind boy Running on my mind boy Forrest Gump I know you Forrest I know you wouldn't hurt a beetle But you're so buff, and so strong I'm nervous Forrest Forrest Gump My fingertips, and my lips, they burn From the cigarettes Forrest Gump you run my mind boy Running on my mind boy Forrest Gump I saw ya game, Forrest I was screamin' run 44 But you kept runnin' past the end zone Oh where'd you go Forrest Forrest Gump
If “Bad Religion” - and “Thinkin’ Bout You” before it - were subtle allusions to his bisexuality, “Forrest Gump”, the penultimate track on channel ORANGE, would be the unabashed coming out party. In this song, Frank beautifully covers the timeless love story from the film, Forrest Gump, but through Jenny’s perspective - one that he clearly relates to on a visceral level. In the movie, Jenny and Forrest don’t end up together - but neither did Frank and his love at 19 years of age. In a very literal sense, Forrest Gump is used as a metaphor for a man running away from Frank - referring to the different paths taken by him and the man he fell in love - and this story is another example of unrequited love. But it’s uptempo nature and Frank’s equally light singing paints it in a much different light than “Bad Religion”. Here, there is no self-doubt and he seems to believe the experience of the fling was worth it. It’s the bright result of having grappeld with his emotions throughout the album’s more dark spots. This is essentially Frank fully submerging into his new lifestyle that he explains in his letter as being “a free man”. Similar to his letter, Frank is grateful for the man he fell in love with, regardless of the outcome. 
Despite this album being such a bold statement on his part, highlighting him as an artist that will stand the test of time, I’ve always felt as if its slow and melancholic vibes represent a shyer, younger Frank Ocean. Since releasing his letter and reinventing himself as a free man, the outward projection of his confidence has considerably escalated. Four years after channel ORANGE the fans were finally given a second and third album, simultaneously: Endless and Blonde. I personally cherished these albums, not expecting any new music for yet another few years, but just as I was getting used to the idea of no new Frank music, he released a single on his Beats 1 radio show, Blonded Radio: Chanel. Chanel was released in March 2017, and I can’t think of any way to describe the start of the song, besides epic:
My guy pretty like a girl And he got fight stories to tell I see both sides like Chanel
See on both sides like Chanel
 The Undefeated’s online music review of this song describes these first few lyrics in the following manner: “The boastful first few bars of Ocean’s new song might be the coldest, gayest, and most securely masculine flex in the history of rap. Elegant and mellow, the song’s lyrics read as a deliberate ode to duality and non-heteronormative binaries - an ambition, that since the death of Prince Rogers Nelson, is sorely missed in black music”. Whether I’ve convinced you or not, I truly believe Frank Ocean is an icon. He has made tremendous strides through his music and personal life and his consistently made choices that have positively influenced millions. As a visionary and genius, he’s stood out not only as a singer, but as a writer, a visual artist, and an activist. 
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Credit: https://www.gq.com/story/frank-ocean-is-peerless
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Fools
Title: Fools
Prompt: “Fools” by Lauren Aquilina… defs my favourite song at the moment, highly recommend the Live at RAK Studios version on spotify !!
Summary: there’s only one bed !!!
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: FLUFF !!!! NOTHING BUT FLUFF MY DUDES EVERYONE IS HAPPY FOR ONCE
Word Count: 2,090
note; ok ok so i know this is the latest in a lot of sam content but u dont have all the facts, which are: i love him
jokes aside i wrote this loosely for sammy’s bday!! i know its a bit late but oh well. and also im a total slut for the “theres only one bed!!!” trope so. here we go.
________
Two beds. Three people. You weren’t a mathematician by any means, but you knew something about this picture didn’t quite add up.
Dean groaned as the motel door fell shut behind you. He, you and Sam were all beaten and cold from a trying wendigo hunt, and there was nothing any of you wanted more than to crawl into some nice, clean sheets and get a good night’s sleep for once.
“I’ll go to the reception,” Dean muttered, and you shot him a look.
“Really? Looking like that?” you asked sceptically, eyeing the Winchester’s torn clothes and hands stained with dried blood. “Cos that would go down so well.”
“Well, what do you suggest?” Dean countered, tone aggressive with exhaustion.
“Easy - someone takes the couch,” you said, nodding to the seat squashed between the beds and the tiny box television.
“Great, you do that, I’m getting some well earned shut eye,” Dean muttered, tossing his duffel bag onto the bed.
“Uh, excuse me?”
“Your idea, you take the couch,” he reasoned. “Sam and I are both too tall for it, anyways.” You opened your mouth to argue, but you were far too tired to come up with a decent retort.
“That’s not fair,” you mumbled. “Come on, rock paper scissors,” you insisted, and Dean groaned while Sam sighed tiredly from the corner.
“You two do that, I’m taking a shower,” he informed you, the bathroom door swinging shut behind him. Your gaze hardened as your eyes locked with Dean’s.
“Come on. Loser takes the couch,” you prompted, and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Fine,” he said, throwing scissors as you threw paper. His face lit up in a grin, while your groan echoed throughout the room.
“Fine,” you snapped. “But I call dibs on next shower.”
“Fine by me,” Dean said, collapsing back onto his bed, fully clothed. He was snoring before Sam came back out.
The youngest Winchester’s lips curled in amusement as he saw you grumpily sitting on the couch, arms folded and knees up to your chest.
“Really, Y/N? You know Dean always throws scissors,” he teased, and you made a face at him.
“Lay off, I’m tired,” you grumbled, trudging into the bathroom as Sam tried to restrain his smile.
“Sorry!” he called after you, though his tone was still dripping with amusement. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling yourself. You could never stay mad at Sam. If you were being honest with yourself, you’d had feelings for him for some time - but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he felt the same way, so you found it was best to just… repress it. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.
The hot water did wonders for the tension you still held in your shoulders, drawing it out with the steam and washing away your adrenaline with the blood and grime. Your eyes lit up as you saw Sam’s shampoo, conditioner and hair treatment still sitting on the small metal rack attached to the shower head. At last, a reprieve from the curses this night had brought you!
When you left the bathroom, cosy in your pyjamas and smelling like Sam, the motel room had fallen into darkness. You could just make out your surroundings from the meagre light of the parking lot that crept beneath the curtains. You sighed as you saw your “bed”, looking even more cramped and lumpy in the dim light.
Collapsing onto it tiredly, you found yourself smiling as your hands registered a neatly folded duvet slung over the armrest. You knew Dean wouldn’t have left it there - he hadn’t seemed to have moved since his initial collapse into slumber. You glanced over at Sam’s bed, just making out his sleeping figure, devoid of a blanket.
A small smile tugged at your lips, and you settled into a lying position, staring at the roof as you tried to get to sleep. You almost drifted off several times, but each time you started awake - the first time you’d shifted and hurt your neck. The second time you’d almost fallen to the ground. When you nearly fell off for a second time, you gave a short huff and stomped to your feet, tossing the duvet onto the floor and dropping onto it in irritation, curling up in the small space between the television cabinet and the couch.
The room fell silent, and you hadn’t realised until now just how loud your fussing had been. You laid completely still, save for your fingertips, which fidgeted absentmindedly with a loose thread of carpet.
“Y/N?”
Sam’s whisper was startlingly close. You jolted in surprise, knocking your head on the wooden cabinet in your haste and yelping quietly. You squinted in the dark, making out Sam’s tall figure standing behind the couch.
“Sorry, did… did I wake you?” you asked. Sam shook his head.
“No, I couldn’t sleep anyways,” he dismissed, flinching as you adjusted and knocked your elbow. “Come on, this is ridiculous. Just share the bed with me - there’s plenty of room,” he invited. You felt your heart stutter. You had half a mind to refuse, but the temptation of a warm, soft bed was too strong of a lure.
“Are- are you sure?” you checked, and Sam nodded.
“Of course,” he chuckled. “We’re adults, I’m sure we can handle sharing a bed for a night. Here,” he said, extending his hand. You clasped it tightly, letting him pull you to your feet. You snagged the duvet on your way to the bed, which you gratefully collapsed into, relishing in the soft sheets and the springy mattress, even if it was a little creaky.
Sam squeezed in next to you, and you froze as you realised how close the two of you were. What a liar - “plenty of room” your ass. The bed was a double, but it felt more like a single with Sam’s hulking body folded into it. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - that man was like a furnace - and smell the scent of soap clinging to his skin. The sense of closeness was only amplified as Sam draped the duvet over the both of you, caging you against each other to ward off the cold.
“You have enough blanket?” Sam asked. You could hear the rustle of his hair against the pillowcase as he moved. You swallowed.
“Y-yeah,” you managed.
“‘Kay. Night,” he mumbled tiredly. He was so still you weren’t sure he could hear your whispered response.
“Goodnight.”
It was still dark when you woke - you couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour. You had that funny taste in your mouth from an interrupted nap, and your movements were sluggish as you tried to shift your position. You heard a sleepy mumble of protest and froze as you realised exactly how you laid.
You blinked a few times to adjust your eyes to the darkness, heart skipping as you registered Sam’s arms locked tightly around your waist as he spooned you, your back pressed close to his chest. You ceased your movement, praying he wouldn’t wake, that you could have a chance to relax into this moment and enjoy it just a little longer.
“Y/N?” Sam murmured sleepily. “You okay?”
“F-fine, Sammy. Go back to sleep,” you whispered, and you felt him freeze has he felt his hold on you. He quickly drew back his arms.
“Oh- sorry,” he said, chuckling nervously. He cleared his throat. “Uh… night.”
But you were wide awake now, and you knew he was as well- you could feel it in the tenseness of his body, the way he purposefully kept an inch of space between the two of you, not wanting to infringe on your boundaries. His breathing was uneven, and with that said, so was yours. Your heart slammed against your ribs as you gathered your courage and, after a few moments, you rolled over to face him.
You started as you realised how close he truly was - his face was barely an inch from yours. His breath fanned over your lips.
“Hey.” His voice was quiet, and you saw him smile sheepishly through the darkness. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hey.”
“Can’t sleep?”
You gave a small shake of your head. Sam made a sound of empathy, and you were so close you could feel it rumble through his chest.
“Me either,” he said. The two of you fell into a somewhat awkward silence, broken when Sam spoke again. “Sorry about- about before,” he stammered, and you cringed inwardly.
“Oh. Um. That’s okay.” You weren’t sure what made you tack on your next words. “I didn’t mind.”
“Neither did I,” he admitted after a beat. You fell into another silence, comfortable now, his features coming into focus as your eyes adjusted to the low lights. You saw his long eyelashes brush his cheeks when he blinked, could point out every tiny freckle that found its home on his skin, every strand of stubble lining his jaw. He swallowed hard, and you could see the movement of his Adam’s apple.
Sam’s eyes found yours, and there was something in his soft gaze that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He shifted closer - his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours. Your heart rate picked up again, and you were certain he could feel it - you were almost chest to chest.
Sam spared a glance at your lips, so quick that if you’d blinked you would have missed it. He took a shaky breath, and you felt your palms prickle with nervous sweat as he leaned in… and suddenly, his lips were tentatively brushing over yours.
Your breath caught in surprise, and Sam drew back quickly, eyes wide with panic.
“Shit. Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
You cut him off by sealing your mouth to his, and within a moment he was smiling and melting back into the kiss. He kissed you tenderly, lips moving over yours with a touch lighter than a feather’s, but as you pressed closer, so did he. His mouth became firm on yours, one of his hands weaving through your hair as the other sought the bare skin of your waist as it crept up beneath your shirt. Sam’s tongue teased your own, and you could taste spearmint toothpaste on his breath as your hands fisted in his shirt, knuckles white as you clutched him tightly. He sighed softly as you both drew back for breath, and suddenly he was kissing along your jaw, placing gentle kisses down your throat… he stopped as he reached your collarbone, breathing heavily for a moment as his head nestled in the crook of your neck. You combed your fingers through his hair, silky and still slightly damp under your touch.
Sam came back up to leave one last lingering kiss on your lips.
“That was nice,” you said, barely containing the smile stretching over your face. He grinned, ducking his head shyly.
“Yeah. I’ve… I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, and his confession had you smiling so wide your face hurt.
“Me too,” you breathed, still running your fingers lightly over his scalp as your free hand found his shoulder. Sam moved his hand up your back, tracing soothing patterns over your skin.
“So… what now?” he asked quietly, and you released a short breath. You both knew there was no going back to just friends, not now. But moving forward… together? Do you take that risk? What if you loved like fools, and ruined everything? Lost all that you had?
You shook the thoughts from your mind. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone - and maybe that was dangerous, but right here, cloaked in the safety of the darkness, with his vulnerability written so clearly on his face…
“All I know is… I want you. So… if you feel the same, let’s just see where the road takes us, and not worry about anything else.” Your voice was hushed, captured in the darkness, a secret held forever between the two of you. Sam smiled.
“Yeah. Not worrying. That sounds perfect.”
You smiled, and he captured it with another kiss. He paused, drawing back for a moment, his brow creased as he shot you a perplexed look. “Did you… did you use my shampoo?”
You nodded sheepishly, and Sam chuckled before leaning in and crushing his lips to yours once more.
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lightofcordonia · 5 years
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And Just Like That, He Lost Her || Ethan x Mc
Summary: Ethan Ramsey continue to reject his feelings for his intern, Genevieve Valentine. But one day he had a wake up call but once he realized that he needed her but it was too late.
Authors Note: Hey everyone! I’m new to this fandom and this is my first time ever writing an imagine about Ethan. I’ve always wanted to write one especially a somewhat angsts type so here you go. I hope you all enjoy it and give me some feedbacks about it.
Warnings: angst, cursing (not much though)
Pairings: Mainly Ethan x Mc, a small hint of Bryce x Mc
—————
Ethan looked longingly at his intern, Dr. Genevieve Valentine talking to Bryce Lahela, a surgical intern that he grew to despise. He didn’t like to admit it but the sight of Genevieve talking to a well-known flirt such as Bryce bothered him in ways he couldn’t explain. He stared daggered at Bryce as the intern made subtle movements to get close to his Genevieve. Ethan finally forced himself to pay attention to the file he was previously looking through before he spotted the two. The constant giggling and touching broke his heart. He deep down he hoped that she remembered the time they shared in Miami, not the hurtful words he has spoken to her.
Genevieve broke out into a giggle fit as Bryce slowly made her day seem brighter and brighter. She couldn’t take the constant pain of seeing Ethan day by day, knowing that he didn’t want to be with her despite the clear attraction. “8 pm tonight, my place for dinner and maybe something more afterward” The surgical intern suggested before throwing her a flirtatious wink. Genevieve’s cheek turned red and looked shyly at him. Bryce smirked at her knowing the reaction that he has gotten from her. He placed his hand on her arm and gave her the look. “What do you say?” He whispered playfully in her ear. “Alright” She whispered back as her breathing hitched at their sudden closeness. She had to admit, she did find him attractive but she knew that she wouldn’t feel the same way about him as she felt with Ethan.
Bryce threw her another wink. “Its a date,” He said before walking off to his next surgery. Genevieve bit her lip hoping that he was joking about that too. She didn’t want to lead him on. She knows damn well that whenever Dr.Ramsey so much as looks at her with his intense blue eyes boring into her green ones, her heart would skip a beat. Genevieve silently cursed under her breath as she knew that she had to pass Dr.Ramsey to go to her next destination.
As the young intern made her way across the hall, Ethan couldn’t help but examine her. He noticed her pink cheeks curtsy of Bryce’s comment, her beautiful green eyes trying not to wander around his area and her tensed posture when she passed him. “Rookie,” he said firmly. Genevieve froze in her path before slowly turning to face him. “Y-yes Dr.Ramsey?” She stuttered out without looking at his face. He sighed before saying “My office now” he said.
After making the two made their way into his office, he shuts the door behind him. “You’ve been ignoring me, how come?” He demanded. Genevieve held in a breathe and fiddled with her hand still never meeting his eyes. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said as firmly as she can. He pinched the area between his forehead before stepping closer towards her. Her breathing hitched as she took a step backward until he cornered her to the wall.
“Genevieve” Ethan whispered. This being the rare moments she called her by her real name. “Is this because of the time we shared in Miami?” He whispered. She looked up at him and nodded but never meeting his eyes. “Look at me,” Ethan said. He gently lifted her chin up and gently removed strands that covered her face. “As much as I want to be with you. Call you mine, kiss you mercilessly and do unspeakable things to you” He started with a hint of lust in his eyes. Genevieve bit her lip as her cheeks grew red again. He slowly stroked her cheeks lightly. “But not only is it inappropriate workplace behavior, but I also don’t want the other interns to think that you sleep your way to be number 1 in the rankings.” He continued. “I cared about yo-“ He started before Genevieve immediately slapped his hands away from her cheeks.
“If you cared about me then you would have cared about my feelings. I understand that you didn’t want people to think I sleep with you just so I went up the ranking but we could always do it in secret.” Genevieve said angrily. “I-I-I want to be with you!” She exclaims as hot tears ran down her face. “You don’t understand how this is killing me in the inside! I couldn’t bear to see you, every time I did it’s as if you punched me in the gut every time! Do you know how much this is hurting me? You don’t! Because you don’t fucking care about my feelings” she yelled in his face as Ethan stayed quiet. She was right, he didn’t consider how she would have felt in all of this and how he played with her emotions by telling her that he wanted her one minute but completely pushing her away from the next.
Ethan grabbed her by the face and smashed their lips together for one last final kiss. The burning hot emotion and passion they had in one another were displayed into the kiss. Every emotion they ever felt for one another were sealed by that bruising kiss. They pulled away as they breathe heavily. Ethan gently wipes the tears off her face as Genevieve slowly calmed down. She could have sworn that the whole hospital heard her. “I’m sorry Genevieve, but this is a goodbye to our unprofessional relationship. I do hope you understand that we would have never worked out” he whispered into her ears. He opened the door to his office and gesture for her to leave.
Genevieve looked tearfully at him in disbelief, she couldn’t believe that after all of that. He still didn’t care for what she had to say. She attempts to calm herself down before plastering on a fake smile. “Right, of course, I understand. Have a good day Dr.Ramsey” she said with a venomous ending. Ethan winced at her harsh tone but nevertheless, he didn’t stop her from leaving.
5 hours later Genevieve Valentine had officially finished her shift. After the day she had, she was more than happy to take a refreshing shower, get dressed and have dinner with Bryce. Though Ethan was still at the hospital and the conversation he has with Genevieve never left his head.
“Please! Please! You have to save her!” A man yelled as he followed the gurney that was being rolled into the hospital. “Sir, I assure you that the doctors in this establishment will do whatever it takes to help your girlfriend live” A paramedic assured the men. “Please, they have to! You don’t understand, I was going to propose to her” The men said before bursting into tears “It was our 5th anniversary” he mumbled tearfully as he glanced his wounded girlfriend.
“Take her to the ER quick, we don’t have much time to lose!” A resident surgeon yell before the paramedics rushed the gurney into the ER room. Ethan stares at the commotion in shock. He couldn’t stop imagining the woman in the gurney as Genevieve and he couldn’t stop imagining the man like himself. At this moment, something inside of Ethan Ramsey churns. He never stopped to realize that the world had a cruel way of showing signs. He felt foolish, he worked at the hospital for so long and to never realized that anything could happen to loved ones at any moment.
The woman looked around her twenties but yet at a sudden action in life by being at the wrong place at the wrong time, could have the potential to take her life before she even reached her forties. The thought of Genevieve being taken away from him before he could even tell her the full extent of his feelings towards her and how he wants her to be his made him sick. Now Ethan knew what he had to do, he couldn’t just keep his feelings bottled up, he had to see Genevieve. He knew that he needed to see her if it’s the last thing he had to do.
“This just in a drunk driver had hit a woman in her twenties. The victim by the name of Genevieve Valentine had been knocked unconscious by the heavy impact and is currently rushed into the hospital. The drunk driver by the name of John White had died by the immediate impact. This is devastating indeed but we are hoping that the victim recovered and didn’t meet the same tragic fate as John White. I’m Anna Winter from DEF news back to you Randy” Ethan stared at the tv in disbelief. ‘No this couldn’t be happening right now’ he thought as his heart started to beat out of his chest. He couldn’t tell if this is life’s cruel way to tell him that he should have told her but he couldn’t believe that this was happening just as he realized what he had to do.
“No, no, no, no!” Ethan yelled before grabbing a vase and throwing it across the room. “No please no” he whispered as hot tears ran down his face. He never felt pain like this before. His heart clenched as he glanced at the picture of Genevieve they showed on the screen. Genevieve looked so happy on there, her green eyes were brighter then ever, she had her usual smile that could brighten up his whole world and a she simply looked radiant to him even without trying.
Ethan never told her how much he truly love her. How her presence always shines the gloomy aura of the hospital. How much he loves her passion for saving people, her hopes of becoming something greater in the future. Her ambition and her kindness towards her friends and patients. He never got to tell her how he wants to hold her in his arm every time he said something that hurts her. He never got to tell her that he had this burning desire for her but he always needed to control himself around her. He never got to tell her how he needed her in his life. How dull his life has became after Genevieve left him. He never told her how much he wanted her to be with him not some surgical scalpel jockey. He wanted to tell her how she deserves so much more then Bryce or himself. He never goes to tell her any of those things.....
Why, why did this have to happen to him? Out of all people, why did it have to be her? She never deserved this, she shouldn’t have deserved this. Ethan never felt so much hatred to this one man who could have taken the love of his life away from him.
But like Ethan Ramsey said, life have a strange way of telling people to do something....
—————-
Well I hope you all enjoy! Don’t forget to give me back so feedback and maybe suggest some concept for another imagine. 💕
Tag List: @sibella-plays-choices
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notwxrriors · 5 years
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i think i thought of a fun idea!! could u maybe go through ur awtto playlist and explain why u put it on there?? like, why u think it fits them, or whose pov it’s from, stuff like that ☺️
AAAAA holy shit this is so cool thank u for asking!!!!! i feel Passionately about my playlist and im so glad i can share some of my thought processes or w.e with it!!! 
I do update this playlist every once in awhile, but here's what's on there so far! 
- talk too much by coin: the lyrics of this song is So awtto tbh its a very fun and playful song, def awsten's pov
- lavender bones by stand atlantic: i really love this song a lot. the "i know i'm out of my depth, but i just float in it" in the chorus feels very otto to me, but this is a p Early Awtto song where they're both in a weird spot with their sexualities
- california waves by postcards: i like the talk of nostalgia in this song. it's very aws-in-LA and otto-in-houston song. it sorta has a bitterness to it too, really, and i see it in otto's pov
- moscow by autoheart: if i had to choose a single song on this playlist for awtto, it'd be this one. it's so cute and upbeat and the lyrics themselves are so strange and fun, i think it suits them so well. different lyrics fit for both of them, so the pov is sorta split depending on line. i Adore it so much!!! 
- unsweet by DNCE: i LOVE dnce and this song is So Cute, about loving someone who doesn't fit in with the norm. otto's pov 
- smithereens by twenty one pilots: this song is fucking Hilarious and so sweet. i thought it was sorta funny, tyler talking about how he'd fight someone to defend jenna, even though he's so tiny, and that felt very otto to me
- our time now by plain white t's: really fun song. i don't have much of a deeper meaning for it tbh, it just felt like it suited! 
- beating heart baby by waterparks: honestly i put this on here because of my own fic! i think awsten's voice is so sweet in this song and i lov 2 imagine him singing it to otto
- imaginary parties by superfruit: this song is so silly and lighthearted while still having a sorta,,, Suggestive undertone, which is p much awtto's whole relationship. pov wise, awsten would be mitch's parts (the higher ones) and otto would be scott's. the line "i can call the shots and you can call me what you want" is SO awtto
- knuckles by moose blood: ive always heard this one in awsten's pov, but it could work either way. this song is p angsty, but that sort of pining for someone who's taken felt a lil like the "otto's dating grace and awsten's in love with him but otto has no idea" au we've touched on. the chorus is beautiful and fitting
- let me down easy by gang of youths: if moscow was my first choice for an awtto song, this would be my second. the lyrics of this song are GORGEOUS, id rly recommend reading them! i could break this one down verse by verse and how it relates to awtto, but that'd be a whole seperate post, but definitely otto's pov
- millions by gerard way: i like this song a bunch. it has a really fun melody but the lyrics are a bit darker, very bittersweet in their own right. also some ha ha blowjob references, so that was a selling point lmfao. awsten's pov
- sweet pea by doll skin: one of the rare Actual Love Songs on this playlist! it's a beautiful song abt a ldr and i see it from awsten's pov
- trust by the jonas brothers: otto's pov. this came about after we talked about awkward!otto and also i think this is one of the bests on happiness begins, it's a good tune and the lyrics are pretty fitting! 
- god in jeans by ryan beatty: a teenage/very young adult awtto song, awsten's pov. i love the lyrics of this sm, the naivety of it. it feels like awsten's first time with a boy, waking up next to him and thinking "if god would send me to hell for this, id go willingly". it's kinda a tongue-in-cheek anti religion song, and it feels very fitting for little fumbly scene awsten who's so in love with otto, a boy, 
- in bloom by neck deep: i wanted an actual breakup'y sorta song on here, and this one deals a bit with an overbearing relationship. def otto's pov. and it sounds breakup'y, but the "you're the only voice i want to hear in my head" offers a bit of hope still, and thts very awtto, to not rly end anything 
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