someone: in 'Wheel of Time' some Aes Sedai sleep with their warriors cuz of their connection
me, cracking knuckles and opening my google doc: aight bet
someone: in 'Wheel of Time' some Aes Sedai sleep with their warriors cuz of their connection
me, cracking knuckles and opening my google doc: aight bet
With how tonight’s been going, I don’t think this blog is in a very good position to keep running anymore, other than of course to reblog lovely pictures of my favs and scream about them
Chapter 13: Don't Say Goodbye
Summary: Hannah and Wheatley gain their freedom, but there's one person they don't want to leave behind.
back at it with really late night chapter drops but i REALLY wanted to finish this tonight lol, one more to go!!
been a hot minute but I’m back with another GoeLight fic! I decided to do something a little different and wrote this fic from Goemon’s point of view, ish (it’s in third-person because I’d feel weird writing “I” from the perspective of someone else talking about myself LMAO). I wanted to finish this in time for my Lupinniversary on the first lmao, so uhh enjoy!
He wasn’t exactly looking for love when she came into his life.
When they had first met he was merely doing what he normally does; fighting this week’s enemies and saving an innocent person who got mixed up in the wrong business. Lupin was always pleased to find a “damsel in distress” to rescue, but it wasn’t in Goemon’s nature to take advantage of the situation like that. Perhaps it was just his morals, or perhaps it was because of his shyness around women. Whatever the reason, Goemon was much more humble when it came to rescuing people. It was simply part of his job, nothing special.
Light was different. She wasn’t exactly innocent in the traditional sense, but she was by no means a sultry woman either. Hell, she wasn’t even noticeably feminine. He could tell she was socially anxious by her speech patterns and body language, but she was the kind that talked too much instead of too little. She was awkward but aloof, stubbornly staying true to herself but more than willing to go wherever the wind took her in life. Perhaps the reason he was initially curious about her was because she was particularly shy around him, but much more casual around Lupin and Jigen. No, it wasn’t also because he thought she was cute. Nope, not at all, how could anyone be so brash as to assume such a ridiculous thing.
Okay, so maybe he did think she was kinda cute. But he never would have admitted it in the beginning. In fact, he didn’t even seem to recognize his feelings looking back. He couldn’t have pinpointed what exactly it was about her that drew him to her if he wanted to. He could only hypothesize on why she intrigued him so. And yet, that in itself was the exact reason he was so interested in her in the first place. She was honest, predictable even, sending a clear message on who she was, and still managed to have this mysterious charm about her, the kind that kept him guessing in an exciting way. He never met anyone who could pull off both without coming off as two-faced or untrustworthy. He found such a change of pace in companions refreshing. Relaxing, even. He could be himself around her without having to worry about her taking advantage of it. Hell, she was far too soft for that, the poor thing apologized to tables if she bumped into them out of second nature.
As a matter of fact, when it came to conflict or others’ feelings, she was what some would call a pushover. True, she generally didn’t like being told what to do, but the second someone raised their voice in even the slightest she was as compliant as a mindless slave. Goemon noticed this. Seeing her cower in fear at a stern tone, even when not directed at her, sent a pang through his heart. He knew that was hardly a normal reaction to people arguing amongst themselves in another room. She had to unfortunately have been through something. He dared not ask what; he knew she’d tell him and everyone else when she felt comfortable. In the meantime, he would feel a sense of protection over her in those moments. He remembered the first time Lupin and Jigen got into a less-than-light-hearted argument in her presence. She had at first attempted to keep the peace between them, but when neither of them listened and their debating became more intense, she fled the room looking as if she’d seen a ghost. He remembered her surprise when she realized he had followed her, the nearly relieved look in her eyes when he had wordlessly opened his arms inviting her in for a hug. The way she practically dove into him, holding onto him tightly with shaky breaths and a million unnecessary apologies.
She seemed more relaxed around him after that day, not that she was ever afraid of him or anything before but her initial shyness around him finally melted away. She could joke around with him just as she could with the others, though she still stammered and blushed in his presence. He remembered asking Lupin and Jigen why this might have been while Light was napping in the other room and being completely unprepared for the answer.
“She— I— a— wh— crush????” The poor man was nearly choking on his ramen while Lupin and Jigen laughed their asses off at his reaction.
“Easy with the ramen there buddy, I don’t think it’s worth dyin’ over,” Jigen teased.
“What, you don’t believe me?” Lupin sneered. “Goemon, man, ol’ pal, I know love when I see it, and Light’s totally got eyes for you, it’s so obvious.” A devilish grin that Goemon did not like the look of impishly stretched across Lupin’s mischievous face as he leaned in closer to his friend. “And judging by all that redness on your face, you clearly have the hots for her too~.”
He choked out a gasp of surprise, screwing his eyes shut and crossing his arms over his chest, gripping his sword. “Y-you’re ridiculous, Lupin.”
“You’re in love with her, you totally are!” Lupin was roaring with laughter, and even Jigen was cackling along with him.
“I’m sorry Goemon, but I’m with Lupin on this one, it’s friggin’ obvious, man.”
“I refuse to let either of you decide my own feelings for me,” Goemon huffed, standing up from his seat to finish his ramen somewhere else as the other two laughed at his embarrassment. Who the hell were they to tell him if he himself had a crush on someone or not? He was pretty sure he was capable of determining his own feelings as a grown man. He sat down at the nearest table. He repositioned his chopsticks back to continue eating. He thought about Light. More specifically Light having a crush on him. This wouldn’t be the first time someone admired him in such a way. Though in those previous situations, either they were much too young for him, or he simply didn’t return the affections. Sometimes he felt bad because most of his own admirers were perfectly nice people but the thought of them making advances in pursuit of his affections genuinely made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t describe. But, oddly enough, he didn’t feel bothered by Light seeing him in that way. Hell, it was kind of flattering. Maybe it was just because he’d actually gotten to know her more than past admirers… or maybe he really did have his own crush on her, too? He shook his head. Lupin was just messing with his head. He couldn’t let his companion’s teasing words get to him. Then again, he did recall catching himself looking at Light for a little too long a little too many times. Maybe he just liked admiring her features? Like one would stop to gaze at a painting. Yeah. He recalled the times where he’d catch her staring at him too, only for her to turn her head away the second she noticed that he noticed. It was cute, really. He’d catch her wistfully gazing at him like a puppy begging for some table scraps for only a split second, but the image never left his mind.
Now that he thought about it, she was much like a puppy in a lot of ways. Endlessly loyal, a little clueless at times, sometimes hyper, sometimes sleepy, always hungry and… cute. She wasn’t an intentionally cutesy person, but he found every little thing she did adorable- oh no.
Fuck. He did have feelings for her.
“Auurgh, what’cha doin’ over here Goemon?” Light’s sudden yawn from the doorway nearly made him jump out of his seat. “Oh shit, didn’t mean to scare ya!” she laughed. That laugh… it was so contagious that even he couldn’t help but crack a smile whenever he heard it. Son of a bitch.
“You did not scare me, I was merely… lost in thought.” That wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Oh okay good,” she chuckled as she plopped down opposite of him. “Must be damn good ramen.”
He shyly looked down at his bowl. “They taste well… would you like some?” Goemon what are you saying, you only have one pair of chopsticks!
“Aww you don’t have to…” But I want to.
“I insist.” Goemon took a small bundle of noodles between the chopsticks, and before he knew it, he was holding them directly in front of Light’s mouth. What the hell has gotten into him, now she was probably going to think he’s weird, argh. She stared at the ramen in surprise, hesitating. Was she blushing or were her cheeks always that pink? He felt his own face heat up as he watched her lean forward and gently take the noodles from his chopsticks. Any other time she’d wolf down her meals and food offered to her like a starving dog, but now she was taking such care in her eating, probably surprised by his offer. Her face lit up into a closed-mouth smile as she ate.
“Mmmmm… ya da’sh goo’ shet!” Goemon didn’t even care that Light was talking with her mouth full. Even that was adorable to him.
Yup, he had it bad.
Suddenly he was now the one to be shy around her, not that he wasn’t always shy around people but now that he’d faced the facts and accepted his feelings for her he had a lot more reason to be nervous. He’d blush and stammer whenever she spoke to him, worried he’d say or do something wrong. At first she didn’t seem to notice- after all, he was a man of few words- but after a while he could tell she’d caught on, though what she made of his change in demeanor was unclear. But she never rushed him, she’d wait and listen and reassure him to take his time. Which only made his heart flutter faster- how the hell was she so nice? She might have claimed to not be a patient person, but with other people he swore she could wait years for. And it wasn’t just him. He’d seen her help a drunken Lupin to the nearest place to purge his alcohol, care for Jigen’s upset stomach, let a distressed Zenigata cry on her shoulder, and even comfort Fujiko if she knew life was being unfair to the femme fatale. He admired her selflessness and was touched by her frequent donations of her share of loot to those in need. But she was not without sass and snark, frequently engaging in witty banter with others and not taking any shit from anyone. Anyone else might have been annoyed by her tendency to speak her mind, but Goemon rather liked that about her. Even if she didn’t mean to blurt out half the shit she said, he’d always listen to what she had to say. What he was not as fond of was Lupin and Jigen’s shit-eating grins and incessant teasing once they realized he’d accepted his heart’s desires. God, he hated when they were right.
There soon came a time where Goemon decided he wanted to make his feelings more known to her. He had the perfect idea for a custom gift, and he insisted on flying to Japan to have it specially made. It just so happened that a festival was being held in the area at around the same time, so everyone ended up joining him, and Light herself was the only one unaware of the real reason for their travels.
His gift was finished just in time for the festival. He stuffed it in a secret compartment of his kimono while everyone else slipped into their own. Fujiko was assisting Light in putting hers on as she’d never worn a proper kimono before, while the guys were just wrapping up with their own dressing. Goemon cringed when Lupin emerged wearing the most god-awful neon every-color atrocity he had ever seen in his life. He was going to attract many stares compared to Goemon himself, who was wearing a simple navy blue garment, and Jigen, in a classy silver yukata with the only abnormality being his signature fedora paired with it.
“Goemon, you sly dog, she’ll never see this coming~!” Lupin giggled.
“She might if she overhears your loud mouth,” Jigen grumbled.
The sound of sudden laughter from the other room made the three of them turn their heads toward its direction.
“From the sound of that, nothing will be overheard from either of them,” Goemon conjectured. The sound of Light’s boisterous laughter mingled with Fujiko’s breathy giggles was contagious, as the others found themselves chuckling soon after.
“It’s nice to hear them getting along for once,” Lupin swooned.
“You say that as if they argue frequently,” Goemon said. “Light is a very agreeable person, and even Fujiko is no exception to this.”
“What’s so friggin funny about putting on a kimono?” Jigen pondered.
“I nearly fell getting the damn thing on!” Light answered as she clumsily entered the room with Fujiko gracefully stepping by her side. Fujiko’s outfit was just as showy as Lupin’s but more traditionally so, sporting a flowery furisode and matching accessories, while Light donned a more modest green kimono with subtle floral patterning at the bottom and birds woven into the sleeves and near the collar. Lupin immediately swooned a “Fujicakes~!” and practically drooled over her as he usually did, but Goemon could not take his eyes off Light. He thought she looked so beautiful…
“These fucking shoes are so hard to walk in, how the hell did anybody pre-Meiji era manage?” Light stumbled around trying to figure out how to walk in her geta shoes.
“If you are having trouble, I am here for you to lean on.” Goemon offered out his arm.
“Aww, Goemon, you’re such a gentleman,” she swooned. He blushed as he felt her own arm hook around his.
“Are we ready to go, then?”
The air was chilly, but Light was comfortable in her layers and tucked underneath Goemon’s arm for extra warmth as the group strolled around and stopped at many vendors. Goemon himself was plenty warm, trying not to make his nervous sweating obvious. She didn’t even hesitate to lean herself against him and the sudden affectionate gesture kept his heart fluttering nonstop since. God, he did not want to screw this up…
“How are you two not cold??” an exasperated Light asked Lupin and Jigen.
“I’m a heat box and Lupin is too full of energy to be cold,” the gunman chuckled, pointing with his thumb to Lupin. The man’s kimono was practically falling open with all the running around he was doing. Light barked out a laugh that made Goemon feel rumbles in his own chest.
“Hey Lupin, why ya gotta talk to every chick you see when Fujiko’s right here?” “Yeah, what am I, chopped liver~?” Fujiko scoffed. Even Goemon couldn’t help but chuckle when Lupin’s expression dropped into one of annoyance.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” Lupin sneered before turning to some blonde tourist.
“We should just leave him here,” Light suggested as if it was the most normal thing to do, making everyone else laugh.
“Eh y’know what, I think it’s time for a beer,” Jigen said, before winking at Fujiko. She only took a second to realize what Jigen was getting at.
“Now that you mention it, I saw a vendor a little while back with a beautiful jewelry display, I’m gonna go take a look.” She returned a wink to Jigen. “You two behave~!”
“Yeah don’t make us bail your asses!” And in an instant, Light and Goemon were alone.
For a moment, the two of them remained silent as they continued to stroll and take in all the sights. Soon enough though, the sound of Light sniffing the air broke the silence. Goemon softly chuckled.
“You sound like a puppy dog when you do that.”
“I always sniff like a dog,” Light laughed. Goemon quietly cleared his throat. It was now or never.
“Umm, Light, uhh, now that we are alone, I… there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” He could tell she was nervous from the subtle way her body tensed.
“Don’t worry, it is nothing bad.”
“Oh thank god haha,” she exhaled. Goemon held out his hand.
“Come with me.”
He gently led her away from the crowd of people and underneath a lovely Japanese maple tree. The way she looked up and around at the crimson leaves in awe melted his heart.
“It’s so beautiful here~” she gasped.
“This is just one little tree. You should see a whole garden of them.”
“No, I mean this entire country. I’d only ever seen it in pictures before…”
There was a brief pause before Goemon cleared his throat again. “Speaking of beautiful…” He began fumbling around inside his shirt. “I know you’re not much for jewelry, but I figured you could wear this as a brooch or keep it inside your pocket or… anything you’d like.” He heard a soft gasp as he pulled out his gift: a necklace, with a nylon string and a squared emerald hanging from it.
“Is… is that-” “An emerald.” Goemon smiled. “One of the emeralds from when we first met, in fact.”
“I thought you sold all your share of those?”
“All but one.” He gently handed her his gift. “It was cut locally, by an old friend of my mother’s, in fact. He was shocked that I insisted on a string instead of a chain, but… I know you dislike the feeling of cold metal on your skin.”
“I hate it,” Light laughed. She smiled and slipped the necklace on. “It’s beautiful, thank you so much… I don’t know what to say, what the heck even is the occasion? Besides this festival anyway haha..”
“Well…” He swallowed thickly. This was it. He gently held her hands in his own. “I… ever since we met, there was something about you that just… captivated me, right from the start. I knew right away that there was something special about you. You are unlike anyone else I have ever met. Every day you bring joy to my life and a smile to my face. You always find a way to make me laugh, sometimes it’s not even on purpose. You’re like a puppy… adorable, endearing, precious, sweet… I want nothing more than to hold you, protect you, and to have you always by my side. And there is nothing in this world more beautiful than you…” He freed one hand to gently stroke her cheek, wiping a lone tear away. “What I am trying to say is… I love you.”
She hiccupped, letting the tears fall but with the sweetest smile upon her face. “Goemon…” She shakily reached up to cup his face, gently brushing against the corners of his lips. He smiled underneath her touch— he knew her actions spoke louder than words.
So he leaned in as their lips met for the first time.
Hi this is just a small dumb fic i wrote to distract and help myself with my dysphoria so yeah
Ship: seok-woo x alex (pre relationship)
Warnings: gender dysphoria, unintended misgendering, blood mention, zombie mention, death mention (very brief)
Ok 2 rb
You'd think that in the zombie apocalypse your only worry would be surviving, but sadly thats not the case for alex. Even in such times like these, gender dysphoria was still being awful to him. He felt stupid for being so upset over that, when literal zombies who try to kill them are everywhere. And it certainly didn't help when a random survivors misgender him. Or call him "miss".
He sat on the ground of the train, still having blood all over him. Zombies were in the other side of the door, separating them.
"Alex?" He was startled by Seok-woo, a fellow surviour who was with his daughter. He looked up, "huh. You remembered my name?" He has told him maybe once this entire journey, so he was a bit surprised. "Of course. I just wanted to ask if you're okay. Well, as okay as you can be at the moment..." he gave alex a small smile, which the other returned. "Yeah im alright, i think. Just..." he stopped. 'Dont bother him with your stupid ""problems"", dumbass.' His mind reminded him.
"Just...?" Seok-woo asked, wanting him to continue. Alex sighed, "Nothing, nothing. Just stupid stuff." He tried to laugh it off, but it came out sadder than he wanted. The taller man said nothing, not wanting to push him.
"Miss, I hope you're okay!" A girl, the daughter of seok-woo, named soo-an, said with a smile on her face, only wanting to cheer him up. But it only made him feel worse.
His face became sadder but tried to mask it with a smile, "thank you." He said to her, not wanting to make her feel bad. He looked down again, not wanting to show anyone that tears were building up in his eyes. 'Such a stupid thing to be sad over. People are dying out here. And here i am. Almost crying cause someone called me 'miss''. He thought to himself.
Though his saddening face didn't go un noticed by seok-woo. He sat down down next to him, surprising the other a bit. The other people in the car were talking to each other, giving the two place to talk to each other alone.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He whispered to alex. He said nothing in return, still looking down. Seok-woo thought for a minute, "do you... do you not like getting called 'miss?'" He asked. Alex head jerked up, yet still not looking at him. "Yeah." He whispered, "I'm... I'm not a miss. Or a woman. I'm a man." He explained, with hesitation and a bit of fear in his voice. "Ah." Seok-woo responded, finally understanding the situation. "Well, sir," he started with a smile, making alex finally look him in the eye, suprised. "I hope you know that's completly okay with us." His smile comforted the other a lot, and kind of making him a bit nervous too. Was he blushing? "Thank you..." he responded, with a smile of his own. He wasn't expecting such support from him, or anyone. Or someone even understanding him.
Well, at least people accepted him in such times like these.
A/N: I'm most definitely asleep right now since I wrote this late last night. Based on this commissioned art piece. Focaccia is riding. But where is she going? Absolutely nowhere except pleasure town baybeee. This is literally so long for no reason.
— Summary: Ham and Bread make sandwich at La Squadra di Esecuzione's humble headquarters 👍
— Genre: NSFW, romance, established relationships
— Warnings: blow jobs, dick riding, h*nd h*lding 😳
— Word count: 1644
He walks ahead of her, longer legs taking him farther with a purpose for something she has no clue about. “Shouldn’t we get back to the base?”
He promptly ignores her question for a moment, pocketed hands moving out with two objects, a lighter and a single cigarette. She watches him from behind as he puts it to his mouth and lights it gingerly before pocketing the lighter and his hand once more. Without a single word he motions her forward with a gesture of his head and she understands. They’ll walk back to base. Target dead and forgotten. It’s not her kill but but she watched him age the already dying old man without a second thought. It’s the reason why she never stops him from reaching for his lighter. He probably needs it, addiction or not.
She should probably know these streets by heart but every alleyway looks the same and reminds her too much of her hometown back in Bangladesh. When her parents didn’t allow her to go outside, were they protecting her from men like him? But how could that be when all Prosciutto does is protect her. If he were like that, she would have parted from him long ago. She speed walks to be level with him and purposefully takes out the hand from his pocket to hold it out in the open. He’s surprised, looking at her with well disguised alarm, but she’s not afraid of a little PDA so she looks up at him with a smile that makes him feel more flustered than he’d care to show. They reach the base like that, with intertwined hands and a Prosciutto who uses his cigarette to hid the smile on his lips. Content in unspoken affection and silence.
They find the base to be empty, a surprise, since a couple other members, namely Ghiaccio, was supposed to be there by the time their mission ended. As usual, Prosciutto thinks nothing of it, sitting down on the couch, long done with smoking in their little walk home. Focaccia is a bit unsure what to do. She knows she needs to be there for the mission debriefing because of the information they uncovered. And she can’t miss the way Prosciutto always looks to her to prompt her to peak up during meetings to make sure her thoughts are heard. She never imagined being so deeply ingrained into their group and the comfort of familiarity settles into her stomach like a home cooked meal.
She sits beside him, a little away, politely as if it’s her first time visiting a friend’s home. They’ve not been alone in the base after he asked her out. And her nerves buzz with energy and excitement at getting a moment alone with him, it makes her nervous in a way that molds her behavior into how it was when they first met. She unconsciously fidgets, taking sideways glances at Proscutto’s form sitting with his legs spread and arms over the back of the couch. He takes a moment to bring out his Nokia cellphone most likely to call Risotto. He dials the number with one hand and looks away, holding it up to his ear. His posture looks so inviting the way it creates a space for her beside him, becking and calling her to go hug his torso close.
She sneaks up to him when he’s not looking as he speaks in rapid fire Italian. It’s barely understandable but she caught a couple keywords. One of which happens to be late. She slowly snakes her arm over his torso and rests her head on his chest gleefully and with the lack of eyes on them and the much needed privacy he’s less alarmed and more physical in the way his hand comes to rest against her back, rubbing slowly, soothingly. He bids Risotto goodbye and Focaccia looks up at him with a questioning look.
“He said he’ll be late,” as they expected.
“Good girl,” he whispers, head thrown back in pleasure. The worn green leather couch of the base shifts as he pushes himself farther towards her face. She thinks he looks so majestic like this, legs spread and pants hastily opened, a heavenly angle as she looks up to him, worshiping his very being. Her tongue traces the the tip of his cock as he rests a hand on her head, black thick black strands slipping between his fingers. Prosciutto remembers a time not so long ago when he found out of Focaccia’s inexperience, it was rather thrilling to watch her take him for the first time, teaching her to use her mouth, her pretty little lips. He remembers her hesitance and insecurity, something that he alleviates with much needed praise. And he finds her reaction to encouragement equally as arousing, as she looks up at him with curious, eager, innocent brown eyes, trying to bob on his cock and use her hands at the same time. Giving her a hard time will only mess up part of the fun but he can’t help wanting to thrust into her mouth. He adoringly removes a strand of curly hair away from her face as she gives a particularly hard suck to his tip, making him groan. She learns rather quick.
It’s becoming quite obvious how eager she’s become to suck him off despite her uneasiness from the way she has no rhythm and takes too many chances to kiss his tip over and over. He once felt Focaccia’s lips dip much too close to the plush flesh of his balls when her eyes were closed in pleasure and he kept the tidbit of information tucked into himself making a mental note to put it to good use in the future. “You’ve been so good for me, piccolina,” he says. “Do you want a reward?”
She moans onto his cock at the pet name and he has to hold himself together to keep from shaking. The shaft is pulled off with a loud pop as she eagerly nods at him, looking into his eyes, trying to read what he has in mind.
He pats his thighs invitingly but not before telling her to stand from her crouched position. She’s about to climb onto his lap when he tsks lowly. “Other way, darling.” She quickly shifts around, bunching up her skirt in the process and and giving him a perfect view of her ass. Lithe fingers pull at her flesh and he ponders when did she take off her panties? Or was she not wearing them in the first place? Filthy minx. “Sit, kitty,” the nickname has her all but collapsing onto his cock, slowly, allowing him to feel every inch and crevice as she takes him. It pulls a moan from her, one of many, and no doubt he’ll have a cacophony of them. Prosciutto is a greedy man, always has been. So it’s not surprise to Focaccia when he claws at her breasts unbuttons her top desperately kneading the voluptuous flesh through her bra. And she responds with a satisfying whine.
She looks back at him, pleading eyes and drool rolling down her chin. “May I?” She asks desperately. Focaccia is such an inquisitive woman. One would think it could drive Prosciutto mad. But on the contrary, he loves her questions so much, loves teaching her. Especially when she asks for permission. Without needing to be told to do so. Such an unassuming daintiness is what made him give her the pet name. “Go ahead, princess.” He knows the use of which would stop her from holding back on her pleasure and ride him to her heart’s content. He brings two fingers to her clit, feeling the thick fluid already among the strands of back hair a smirks before continuing with his rubbing. Her moans become incomprehensible and high pitched, he looks at the reflection of their bodies on the glass shelves across from them and wonders if Illuso’s voyeuristic ass is watching them from some hiding place. Though, at the moment, he doesn’t care if they’re seen.
Focaccia soon tires of riding and falls back to rest on his chest, breath heaving and short. He takes the opportunity to bring her lips up for a kiss, remembering how well she put them to use on his cock and thrusting into her from the memory. She yelps into his mouth, letting it turn into moans. She notices her drool from sucking him off and rubs the saliva off with his thumb as she looks at him adoringly, fucked out ready to cum.
He smiles gently, genuinely.
“Do you remember how I taught you, princess?” he asks.
“Good girl, now go slow.”
This time she looks right into his as she rides his cock, panting into his face and his when his hand continues under her bra to pinch at the nipples.
“Prosciutto… “ her thrusts get wilder and he can feel her cunt squeezing him for dear life. He kisses her once more when feeling the rush of fluid from her cumming on his cock, pushing him to finally spill deep inside her walls as she moans some more into his mouth. A single tear drops from her left eye, the one he knows is sensitive, and he pushes his thumb up her cheeks to wipe it off, making her wink cutely, almost as innocent as he once thought she was.
“Did I do well?”
“You’re always looking to get praised, yes?”
He brings their foreheads together and looks into her hazy brown eyes, barely open. He rubs at the exposed skin of her belly lazily.
“What do you think?” He asks.
She stirs her hips with his cock still inside for a little tease and he takes a breath through his teeth.
“Just as you taught.”
deja's selfship au prompt
"Hey—can I like paint you?" Leah would ask Draken as the pair sat in the cafe, not too far from their school's campus. The question took him by surprise; at first, he wasn't sure how to react. "I mean I totally understand if you say no. It's an imitimate experience after all—"
Draken, quickly recovering, would raise his hands, "No, no—it's cool. I mean, I don't mind." He replied before turning away, attempting to hide his flushed cheeks. The fact that the girl he'd been interested in for a while, just randomly asking to paint him, made his body heat up. "Actually. I'd love to. I mean—do I have to be nude or something?"
Leah would let out a girlish giggle, "Of course, not—" her laugh would intensify as she covered her mouth, "unless—you want to be. Then I don't mind."
'Is she flirting?"
A nervous chuckle left Draken's soft lips as he pushed his dark hair out of his face, "What made you ask me?" He questioned, trying to mask his nervous tone.
"My professor told us to paint someone or something we found beauty in—so I thought I should—you know—ask you."
"Beauty? Me?" Draken would stutter, completely dumbfounded.
Leah would laugh again, "Yes, Ken—you"
this is recovery the last prompt 😭 @dejwrites i always wanted to do some type of au thing with draken.
I-I wrote a thing, if anyone wants to read it heh. *this is my first time writing so sorry if its bad heh
Hope you enjoy it heh
The distant sound of a voice muffled by the walls travels through her room speaking "Focaccinaaa!" Even after all these years he keeps the same endearing nickname despite her not going by the code anymore. She sighs, exasperated and spent from a day of work, only having sat down to play Naruto: Ultimate Ninja in her PlayStation system. Her lollipop that she barely popped into her mouth almost falls out. The freshly laundered clothes she put on just half an hour ago already starts to feel heavy from having to get up so soon.
Exiting her bedroom, she makes her way to the living room where she was called from. Prosciutto sits by the couch, folding baby clothing while an Italian soap opera runs in front of him, the sleeping figure of his 9 month old daughter in a basket next to him, peaceful. Had she not been tired, she'd make a joke of him upholding the image of a perfect Italian housewife.
"Fold these," he says, a bit urgently, handing her a pile of the clothing, presumably both of theirs.
"But I just got home..."
He would think he trained the laziness out of her during their time with the mafia but he's quite wrong. He clicks his tongue.
"It's been a solid one hour and fifteen minutes since you entered the home. So get your chores done before I unplug that useless machine."
Defeated, she sits beside him, folding the clothes like he'd taught her back in '98. He goes back to his TV show almost immediately, working like a folding machine while Focaccia stull fumbles a bit. She tries to concentrate on her task when her husband suddenly gasps. She finds it a bit endearing he's so enraptured by the show and looks up at the TV where a woman looks distraught, speaking in rapid-fire Italian.
"What did she say?"
"You should be fluent by now, tesorina," he says without looking back. "Guess?" He seems playful this evening.
Focaccia listens to the next words from the TV. She's always been good at deciphering language just from context.
The scene changes to show to a man with a grim face. "So solo che l'hanno preso." The woman falls to the floor, devastated. The dramatic music increases in volume.
"She asked where her son is?"
"She asked if they hurt him?" she's guessing now.
"That's right. Now how do you say it?"
She suddenly gasps from actually getting it right, waking Aurora immediately who starts crying. Prosciutto looks worriedly to the basked.
"Oops." Focaccia says, setting aside a pair of pants to hold her baby close. Prosciutto lowers the TV volume on instinct. She hums a lullaby that her mother used to sing for her to sleep. Within minutes, Aurora is sleeping and Focaccia sets her baby back down on the basket. She picks up the next piece of clothing and almost falls laughing. Even if it's been many years, she'll never tire of folding Prosciutto's underwear.
"Hey, hey, what's this for?" she asks, holding up the fabric to show a seam near the side of the crotch. He sighs, folding the last of Aurora's clothing. "It's to protect the balls." She all but rolls on the ground trying to keep from laughing.
He really won't tire of this, thinks, smiling inwardly.
She promptly stops and turns to him. "Do you wanna play with me after this?" she inquires all of a sudden.
"What? the natura game?"
"Naruto!" they both start laughing at his mistake.
"You know I don't understand them..."
"It's okay, you can watch me and I'll teach you. I'll sit on your lap." He's satisfied with spending his evening that way. With all the clothes folded and put away she snuggles up to his chest with a blanket showing him the controls to fighting as he miserably dies at the hands of Uchiha Sasuke.
⸻﹙deja's selfship prompt ﹚
Despite the loving nature of their relationship, the downs often outweighed the ups. It made him question if he really deserved her, someone who stood by him despite his emotional unavailability, distant nature, and the fact that—all these years ago—he still couldn't get over Emma. And it led her to questioning whether it was all worth it, would she have been happier with Mistuya or Hakkai?
Hot tears streamed down her face onto the graphic band tee she was wearing. They were arguing again, the trail of the broken candle and wine glasses lying in their wake. "Why would you say that?" Draken thundered as stood behind her.
"Because it's fucking true!—Draken it's true." Leah sobbed as she clutched the hem of her overshirt, "You don't really love me—do you?" This wasn't the first time she had questioned her place in this relationship of theirs. "You still love her, don't you? I heard what you said to Mikey. "
Seeing her cry like this made his body ache, especially when he knew it was all his fault. "Leah, I—" he paused biting down on his bottom lip, "no, it's not like that I promise."
"Bullshit Draken!" She spat, she was never the other to raise her voice like this, "You're a liar. I heard you! I heard everything you said! You said you wondered how'd happy you would be if Emma was still alive. I am not enough for you? Am I just a place holder for you?"
He remained silent for a second, his head dropping down in shame. "Leah, please don't do this. The baby— you're gonna hurt yourselves."
"Oh, like you hurt me?" Leah's tone was cold, the tears stop falling but her hands still shook violently.
"Leah, please—I love you."
"Yeah," She replied with a faint smile before retreating to their bedroom.
@dejwrites pls come pick me up off the floor. life alert pls.
﹙deja's selfship prompt﹚
describing an intimate moment between you & your boo
It took some time for Draken to realized he'd fallen in love. After years of denying himself a loving relationship and being the "caregiver" it finally dawned on him—he was the one being taken care of. "Leah—" He would start, the tomato stained plate still in his hands, "thank you," A faint smile would stretch across his lips.
Completely oblivious and distracted, Leah would look up in confused manner, "What's wrong?" He would remain silent dropping the plate into the farmhouse sink. She'd watch him cross the kitchen until he was finally behind her. Such a tender man, Draken would slowly bring his arms around her waist.
The faint scent of vanilla and cherries would flood his scenes, "I love you."
In the candle-lit kitchen, Leah's eyes would open widely, "Ken—" those three words scared her immensely, even though they had lived together for the last two years she knew he loved you but to verbalize, it was unprecedented—she never experienced something like this before. The hug would tighten, his chin resting on her shoulder, dark strands of hair tickling her cheek. His eye closed, Draken was finally content.
"I-I love you too Ken."
"I promise I'll make you happy."
A slight giggle would leave her lips before she turned her face to his cheek, "You already do." She would plant a gentle kiss on his beet-red cheek.
@dejwrites i did it! 🥺
I never posted this here but I’m gonna do it now bc I’m feeling it in this chili’s tonight
I am my own worst enemy and I’d like someone to stop me, please
The Good Part
Gabriel / romantic (stfu)
Chapter 12: Hello My Old Heart
Summary: Hannah and Wheatley return to their old selves.
hey hannley shippers come get yalls juice!! chapter 12 is here and its got that good reunion shit!
Tag list: @lex-n-weegie, @amessageonthewind, @queenscene2, @mxstrongfork, @droid-shipping, @graveyard-of-ash, @mouseship, @corvidshipping, @widowsdarling, @creamsodaships , @yeehaw-city, @self-ships-ahoy, @actiontoongorlz, @skullsenpai, @pinkiemeowstic89, @cuppykin, @buungooinlove, @roexe, @kinsbin, @ocfairygodmother
Chapter 11: One Day They Woke Me Up
Summary: DEL and Wheatley find out the truth about themselves.
chapter 11 on 11/11! what a coincidence!!
reblogs and comments appreciated!
Tag list (honestly just let me know if you want to be removed bc it only seems to bother folks lol): @lex-n-weegie, @amessageonthewind, @queenscene2, @mxstrongfork, @droid-shipping, @graveyard-of-ash, @mouseship, @corvidshipping, @widowsdarling, @creamsodaships , @yeehaw-city, @self-ships-ahoy, @actiontoongorlz, @skullsenpai, @pinkiemeowstic89, @cuppykin, @buungooinlove, @roexe, @kinsbin, @ocfairygodmother
I wanna gush about my f/o’s but idk how to. Like genuinely, how do people gush about their f/o’s without going brain dead, I have a hard time making and thinking of scenarios about me and my f/o’s without my brain going blank from how much I love that how tf are y’all able to basically write so much about your f/o’s.