#But he would die for her first it’s really almost a challenge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

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MASTERMIND- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Virgin! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: you had never been interested in sex, or men for that matter- until you met bucky. now bucky and you had been going strong for months, and there's no one else you’d want to lose your virginity to. now the only challenge was making it seem like you were experienced...

Warnings: SMUT, reader losing her v card, dry humping, teasing, lots of pet names, PRAISE kink, slight playful choking, size kink, breeding kink if u squint real close, aftercare, reader has some anxiety, bucky being a really, really big sweetheart and a charming gentleman. seriously would die for this man.

“so i told you none of it was accidental, and the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. i laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face, you knew the entire time... you knew that i'm a mastermind and now you're mine.”- mastermind, taylor swift

Tonight was the night.

It was the night that would change your life, the night you would be thinking about each time your head hit the pillow, and when you’d wake up in the morning.

The clock continued to tick slowly, almost mockingly as you waited, fingers twisting themselves into a knot. It was life-changing for you, but the same for anyone else. Everyone else continued with their lives, all in their own little fantasy worlds, with their issues and desires.

It was confusing to think about, to wrap your head around. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, just for anyone to hear you, so they could offer their advice, or not care at all.

Hey world! I’m a virgin, but my boyfriend doesn't know that! How do I go all the way with him without making it awkward?

But you kept your mouth shut, as you always did about things that mattered most to you.

You sat and waited, like a patient in the waiting room, desperate to get seen. The door remained shut, the doctor refusing to come out. You knew Bucky wasn't supposed to come to your place until later, but the anticipation was killing you.

It fired a pit in your belly, causing you to feel almost lightheaded as you waited, re-churning old worries and anxieties around in your mind like butter.

You were in university, had been for some time now- but you were still a virgin. It made you feel stupid, even though you knew it didn’t matter. Virginity was a social concept.

It was stupid, and dumb, and anyone could do what they wanted with their body whenever they wanted. Despite this, you still felt bad. Memories of your high school friends giggling and rushing to tell you of their sex lives haunted you, and even though you knew it probably was shit sex, at least they were getting some.

You were surprised Bucky hadn't pushed the matter, regardless of the fact the two of you had been together for a few months now. They were the best few months of your life, and he had never made you feel so safe and comfortable in your own skin.

So why was this so nerve-racking?

He was obviously waiting for you to make the first move, to make sure you felt secure with his intentions. You hung your head low, hands coming up to rub your tired eyes as you sighed in the quiet.

This was stupid. You were being stupid.

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“This is stupid.” Bucky called from his spot on the couch, banging the remote with his hand as his head slouched back over the couch back.

The internet had gone out for the second time this week, your landlord refusing to call the company no matter how much his residents complained. You watched the Netflix Error screen pop up on the screen again, the loading screen making Bucky's eyes roll along with it.

“Trust me baby, I know.” you said, popping a blueberry in your mouth, its sweetness exploding in your mouth.

“I guess we won't get to see Andrew Garfield's beautiful biceps after all.” Bucy hummed, tossing the remote so it buried itself in the cushions, a chore the two of you would have to complete when he’d want to watch cartoons with you in the morning.

It sounded lame, but the amount of happiness you got from eating sugary cereal and watching old shows you both watched as kids was exhilarating.

Bucky reached his arms out, an indicator he wanted you to curl up in his lap, a silent order you happily obeyed. “I guess not.” you pouted, trotting over to your personal teddy bear, breathing in his calming cedarwood scent.

His skin was warm to the touch, fingers reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear- lingering just a little longer than they needed to. You smiled as you looked up at him, your legs straddled across his lap, arms linked loosely around his neck.

It was a position you often sat in, his need for personal touch consuming every waking hour when the two of you were together. But this time, it felt almost different- in a way.

There was a secret message intertwined into your touches as you rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling the side of his neck as you hummed softly. You breathed him in, utterly consumed by him as his hands found their place at your sides, repeating the same soothing strokes up and down your body.

It was delicate, but you were hungry.

You didn’t know how to approach this, this overwhelming urge you were feeling.

How was this supposed to start?

You didn’t want to outright tell Bucky, because that felt too weird. Too naked and vulnerable for your liking. You had to hint that you had done this, and that you wanted to do this- because you did.

But you were inexperienced. And you knew that Bucky had experience- which made you feel even more stupid if you messed up.

You were frozen, a realization hitting you all at once that you didn’t know how to even begin to approach this. The endless hours of planning this, planning exactly how and when, and who did not compare to the actual moment at hand.

Bucky sensed this, as he always did- picking up on your sudden small movements. A catch of a breath, a fidget of the hands, the continuous tapping of a foot never got past him. “Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” you poked your head up, meeting his soft gaze as he studied you intensely. “What’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours hm?” he asked, large hand coming up to cup your cheek as if the thoughts would trickle out into his palm.

You gnawed on your lip, teeth digging into the flesh as you debated.

Hold it off. You will sound like an idiot. Don’t even think about mentioning it.

“M’just thinking.” you smiled, yet it wavered.

“Just thinkin?”

“Just thinkin.” you replied, thankful he didn’t push you further. Instead, he just kissed you- lips soft and inviting against yours, tasting of peppermint. You moaned, body leaning closer to him on instinct, hips rolling against him.

“I’m gonna find out what's on your mind eventually.” he whispered, making you shake your head in response, a coy little smile plastered across your face like a mask.

“Maybe.” you teased, kissing him again to shut him up. It was a little game you liked to play with him- fighting for that sense of dominance, though deep down you knew he always possessed it.

Bucky’s hands roamed, making you shiver with excitement, his hips bucking up in sync with yours as the minutes dragged on. It was hot and heavy, gasping breaths and teeth and tongue.

But this, this was about as far as it had gotten with you two. This teasing, this edging and dry humping until someone spilled in their pants.

But not tonight.

You didn’t think you could leave it at this tonight.

You decided to take a risk, bringing your hand down to rub across the smooth planes of his stomach, brushing your fingers across the bulge in his pants, making him hiss.

“Doll if you keep doing that I dont think I’m gonna be able to control myself.” he growled gently, forcing your eyes to meet his own predatory gaze.

“I don’t want you to.” you breathed, a hint of a whisper that seemed to blend with the heavy pants, the rise and fall of his chest. An eyebrow was raised, hand sliding up to fit perfectly around your neck as if it were a choker.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you pretty angel?” he asked, making you nod.

“Yes but- but I’ve never-”

He stopped. Instantly, his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your heated cheeks with such delicately it was as if you were a petal upon a blooming flower.

“Woah, woah lets step back for a second angel. You’ve never… you’ve never been intimate with anyone before?”

You shoke your head.

This was embarrassing. Holy fuck this was embarrassing.

“No I haven't. I know it's embarrassing and totally lame, I understand if you dont want to do anything anymore.” All he could do was shake his head, shushing your words.

“It's not embarrassing at all. It's kinda hot actually, that I’m the lucky one to get you like this. But angel, are you sure you want to do this… with me? You want it to be with me?”

“Yes.”

Because truth be told, you couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else. You wanted to be Bucky, more than anyone else.

“We can stop at anytime, okay? Don’t feel like we have to do this, or it’s too late to say no. You want to stop, we stop- no questions asked. And tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, please.” he insisted, making you giggle as he kissed your lips gently.

The breath was stolen from your lungs as you were suddenly swept upwards, definitely gravity as Bucky picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your limbs around him tightly like a koala bear, curious as to where he was taking you.

“Where are we going?” you asked expectantly, watching as he made his way to your bedroom- to the layers of blankets the two of you had tangled in so many times before.

Never like this though.

“I’m not allowing your first time to be on some silly couch angel. I’m gonna take care of my girl.” he cooed, laying down upon the sheets, standing over you with a gleam in his eye.

“So now what?” you breathed, scared on how things would play out next. You weren't quite sure what exactly you truly liked yet. You knew you liked when Bucky was gentle with you, when he would whisper sweet praises in your ears and when he would coax you to an orgasm.

But during actual sex? It was a clean, blank slate.

“Can I take these off sweetheart?” he pointed to your sleep shorts, butterflies in your chest fluttering so hard you could hear them faintly in your ears. You nodded, too scared to say anything, too scared to even breathe in case you woke up and this was all a dream.

Bucky's hands were soft as they slid up your thighs, and you lifted your hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as you were.

“There we go.” he smiled as he tossed the shorts to the floor, watching you eagerly slide the shirt off your head to reveal yourself to him.

All that was left was a small scrap of fabric covering you, one that was getting wetter and wetter with each passing second Bucky looked at you like that.

Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only you could satisfy them. You couldn't help but laugh nervously as he took you in.

“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising your leg to rest over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh all the way to your ankle. You couldn't help but let your hands slide up to cup your breasts, closing your eyes in pleasure as you toyed with your nipples.

“That's it baby. Do what makes you feel good.” he groaned, rutting himself against the bed frame as he watched you play with yourself in rhythm with his kisses and scrapes of his teeth against your skin.

“I want you Bucky. Please, want you so bad.” you begged, one hand reaching down to run your fingers through the silk strands, getting lost in the ink.

“Yea? You ready sweetheart?”

“Please.” was all you could whisper, watching with delight as he rose to his full height, towering over you as he undressed himself for you. His shirt was tossed with your shorts, lost to the memory as his belt unbuckled.

This was happening. This was really, truly happening.

So many emotions were rushing through you like a freight train, anxiety, excitement, passion. It was overwhelming, but Bucky understood this.

“We can stop at any time. We can stop right now if you want, baby. I know it can be nerve-racking.” he assured, wanting nothing more for you to be comfortable and happy. Your happiness was his. It was something he often told you, and it brought nothing but a warmth that spread through your body. It felt nice to be cared about, to be looked after and cherished.

“I want this.” you murmured, desire laced in your tone as he leaned over you.

“I want this too. I’ve wanted this since the moment I’ve laid on that gorgeous lil body of yours.”

“Pervert.” you teased, his laughter echoing throughout the room before he peppered kisses across your cheeks, causing your to squirm. “You’re such a minx.” he cooed, kissing you once more on the lips before he slid your panties down your thighs, over your thighs and toes before they were also, like everything else- forgotten.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your throat. The gentle pitter-patter of rain that slid down the windows echoed from the end of a tunnel, the candle you had lit a while back seeming to glow just a bit brighter to highlight the wanderlust in Bucky's eyes.

“Please.” was your only confirmation, your form of consent as he entered you slowly. You gasped, muscles tightening as you clawed his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly.

“Shh, just relax angel. Good girl.” he praised as you exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched you out.

He was big. You had known this, but it was different with him actually inside you.

“Do you wanna stop?” he asked, concerned. You shoke your head. “No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” you whispered, moaning slightly as he filled you even more, bulge appearing from your stomach.

“You're doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well. M’so proud of you darlin.” he cooed, making the fire in your belly flame that much higher.

Bucky stayed inside you, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew you were comfortable. Your nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as your breath filled your lungs easier.

“Can I move?” he hummed and you nodded, the feeling of pain morphing into some form of pleasure as he shifted.

“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against yours as he rocked his hips, causing your back to arch, chest brushing his.

“Bucky oh god..” you drawled, finally understanding.

So this was what the hype was about. This is what people lived for, people died for, people killed for. This sense of connection, the closeness you reached, the feeling of bliss. The feelings that sparked inside your core that were new, something that made your head spiral. It was like Bucky had you under some spell, like this was some sort of daydream your body felt so tingly.

“You're so wet angel- n’ so tight-” he gasped as he filled you to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent you to the heavens. You were mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of your mouth coherent as your eyes rolled.

“I- love-you-mghm.” you moaned with each thrust, your body jolting as the bed rocked from Bucky's movements. His hand pinned yours above your head, a makeshift handcuff as his lips found yours again, silencing your whines.

“I love you so, so much darlin, so good to me. Just let go for me baby, let go.” he whispered, your body following his commands as you felt the coil break, release washing over you as you clamped down on his cock.

“O-Oh god-” you panted, hiccuping on your noises as you struggled to catch your breath. “Good girl. Good, good girl.” Bucky coaxed you, riding you through your orgasm.

You sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the bed frame- and you knew he was getting close. “Inside. I’m on the pill.”

“Oh god baby shit shit shit-” he panted, your words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around your wrists as he came inside you with a growl of your name, possessiveness seeping out of him from the way he kissed and bit along your collarbone.

You felt full and warm, Bucky’s chant of “I love you, I love you oh god I love you” against your skin making you giggle.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” you smiled.

“Thank you for being the most wonderful, most beautiful girlfriend in the history of the universe.” he teased, freeing your hands from his grip so you could run your fingers through his hair once more, cupping the sides of his cheeks as he always did to you.

You winced slightly as he slowly eased out of you, feeling his cum slowly seep from your abused hole. “I know pup m’sorry, I promise you're okay.”

He kissed you not once, not twice but three times as you pried your squinted eyes open, your body slowly relaxing as he stood. You stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan spin as the cool air washed over your hot and sticky skin.

Going over so many things in your mind, relief spilling through each aching muscle. You had lost your virginity- and there was nothing to be scared about. It wasn't so much the actual sex you were worried about- more so the stigma you were worried you'd inflict on yourself. Scared you would do something wrong, or worried Bucky would look at you differently after hearing you had never done it with anyone else.

Of course the thought were irrational, you knew this now looking back on them but they were still valid nonetheless.

Bucky's footsteps snapped you out of your trace, and you now realized you were too deep in thought to even notice him leave the room. A smile was plastered on his face, baby blues seeming to glow brighter than they had all night- if that were even possible.

A damp facecloth was in his hand and you watched as he sat down beside you, bed dipping slightly as he brushed the warm cloth between your inner thighs. “So that happened.” you said, as if you were stating a fact at a business conference.

“So that happened. Are you happy that it happened?” he asked and you laughed, hiding your face behind your hands.

“So happy it happened. I wanted this to happen.” you confessed, snuggling into him as he lay down beside you, capturing you in a soft embrace. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if he were scared you would let go.

“You’re a mastermind.” he chuckled, the happiness rushing through you so contagious you wondered if everyone else in New York could feel it.

You hoped they did.

You knew they had other plans, other dates and things to stress about, but you hoped just for one second- they could feel the whisper of your giddiness in the wind. It was the kind of giddiness a child got when they ran downstairs on Christmas, seeing Santa had left them one cookie, but enough crumbs so they’d know he was there.

It was the kind of giddiness you only got when you were with Bucky, in his arms.

“What’s on your mind?” he’d ask again, later that night when the moon was high, sleep threatening to tug you under its waves.

And you’d tell him.

You’d tell him every little thing, about how much you loved him, how much you cared for him- how the feelings you had for him were like no other. And he’d kiss you again, drunk off the taste of you, until your lips were swollen and any worry you had were left far behind.

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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months

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Aphrodesiacs Pt.10 (Finale)

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

okay grand finale for y’all. I REALLY BUST MY ASS TO MAKE THIS A LONG JUICY ONE. i was listening to once more to see you by mitski writing this soooo.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

You kicked Miguel out that night.

Yes, it was petty. Yes, it was bitchy. But you really couldn't be around him, not when you had to go to HQ tomorrow. You got a taste of his lifestyle and you found that it was enough.

You didn't want to be a secret side fling but you didn't want to be in a relationship either, you were confused, and being near Miguel never made you clear-headed anyway so you found it very easy to kick him out. He wasn't saying the right things to you and to be honest, you didn't care if it was petty. You wouldn't settle, even if it was Miguel. But then again, it was Miguel- the man that makes you bend to his will, the man that makes your pussy sore and your body ache, the man that can make you cum over and over again until you're biting into the bedsheets. Your mouth went slack at the mere thought. You had to put your foot down, although it felt so fucking good, you wouldn't reduce yourself as someone he fucks from time to time.

You really weren't looking forward to Monday.

Monday morning was hell.

But as it approached nightfall, everything became worse.

Miguel was pacing in his office, his trembling fingers rubbing the skin of his forehead. He couldn't work properly, not when you so casually said 'leave' and shut the door in his face. He couldn't lie, it definitely stung, almost like he was being rejected by the popular girl in high school, reducing him to an awkward, idiotic mess in front of a pretty girl. The thought made his eye twitch, embarrassment twinging at his chest. The issue that was heavier than the embarrassment was the frustration and regret, he couldn't help but feel sad about it- but he would much rather die than show it. After all these years of keeping himself hidden, keeping busy with his work, with his role as a leader...he really didn't know how to open up to anyone. The only person he had ever gotten properly close with was you, and that was just sex. He hadn't had an intimate conversation about his true feelings with a woman he wanted before. It was always just about the sex. But with you, it had always felt like it was something more, maybe it was the spider, maybe it wasn't- he just wanted to be...near you. Lyla had heard him humbling to himself, cursing in Spanish. She was looming over him trying to see what was up with him but he just waved her away.

What if you were already fucking someone else? Did you hate him? What if you never spoke to him again? His jealousy over hypothetical scenarios was messing with his head. He frowned. Miguel felt a surge of anxiety and insecurity flow through him.

Miguel won't cost his dignity to approach you first though, it was always a challenge between you two, this cruel dance of death, the constant miscommunication, the back and forth. You were both just as stubborn and as unrelenting as each other.

Maybe if he just gave an excuse to see you, maybe if he had you in front of him he could actually talk about it instead of being a cold, unfeeling monster everyone saw him as. Miguel's face dropped as soon as he thought that, his brows furrowed in misplaced anger. The truth is... he was afraid. Miguel hasn't been afraid since Gabriella disappeared in his arms. Now he was about to lose you too.

He didn't want to risk it, he needed to do something.

Miguel pressed a few buttons on his watch, scrolling down to your name and alerting your watch to come see him. He didn't want to make excuses anymore, he just felt lost and you were the only one to find him, you were the only one to save him from eternal damnation. You were his sin, his haven, it felt...it felt like you were his everything at this point. This weekend gave him a glimpse of heaven and now he was aching for it back, yearning for it like a clawing dog at a closed door.

When you saw the notification on your watch, your lips curled downwards and your face shifted into a grimace. You let out a deep sigh, your face softening a little. Okay, another chance. Another chance to see him. You hated that you wanted to see him, but you just had to. Although you stood by your decision, you still felt a fraction of guilt just kicking him out like that. All you wanted from him was to tell you how he felt, not just about this tension between you but his feelings, your chemistry. If there was a future outside of this, if his heart was ready for it, to be open to love. You were scared to admit it, you didn't want to but you had to....you were falling in love with him. That weekend taught you so much about yourself, but it barely told you anything about him. He was unreadable, unknowable. All he was able to show was anger or frustration. You wanted to know if you were important enough for him to let you in. You just wanted to know him. Not just as Spiderman 2099. Not just as the spider that happened to bite both of you. Just Miguel. The heart he loved from, the brain he thought from. You wanted to love him, but he was so hellbent on pushing you away and you didn't want to force him to want you.

You knew this was a necessity. One last time, one last chance before you decided what you wanted.

Anxiety coursed through your bloodstream but you didn't show it as you finally walked into his office and Miguel felt your presence immediately, like your scent was his sustenance. You walked in confident but it always felt like Miguel saw through you, but you didn't know that, again, he was unreadable.

His eyes pierced through yours, a sad and frustrated look carving into his face, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, he never did. Miguel threw his head back, signaling for you to hop up on his platform. You huffed reluctantly and swung up swiftly. when you landed on your feet next to him, his presence already formed goosebumps on the back of your neck but you were still defensive so you crossed your arms with an intent look.

"You wanted to see me." You say flatly.

“We left things...abruptly.” His voice was low but unconfident, he didn't know how to start, he needed you to take the lead for him.

“Think that was best.” It felt like the words were getting lost in your mouth, you still weren't looking at him and it made Miguel frown. His hand raised to grab your chin softly for you to look up at him and when you did you were met with sad, insecure, guileless eyes.

“Please just...look at me.” His voice was just above a whisper, a plea for something he wasn't sure of. Your mouth opened to speak but your brows just tensed, a moment passing between you as he touched you softly, almost affectionately.

You grabbed his wrist and let his hand fall off of your skin. “What do you want from me, Miguel?” You breathed impatiently.

“Just talk to me cariño.” The softness of his voice contrasted against the frustration on his 1 face, harsh lines of uncertainty and anger played on the softest parts of him, your cold words twisting the knife even further- but he still won't give you the power to hurt him. Miguel wasn't sure if he was capable of letting anyone in, let alone you. The thought slashed through the forefront of his mind and it made his heart hit his gut. He was scrambling for something, his mouth went dry and his hands went numb.

If only he stopped being so self-righteous, so bent on sabotaging everything good in his life. You sighed.

“I don't wanna be some...casual fuck buddy that's of momentary use to you.” A grimace plastered your face as you said it, you didn't want to be reduced to a hole that he fucks from time to time, you wanted him but you're not stupid, you still had your dignity.

Maybe Miguel pried it out of you before, but now you were just irritated. Your hands went to cradle his face, desperate eyes meeting his, searching for an answer but he didn't say anything, his face wasn't giving anything away. “I need more, I want more...” You lean in, lips parting into sullen apprehension, pleading with him to see you. Your fingers rubbed his neck, but this time it was him that was prying your hands off of him.

“What you're asking of me is not something I know.” His utterances were gruff and stern but it was clear he wasn't actively seeking to hurt you, he just never liked articulating how he was feeling, but he wanted to change that- but people don't change overnight.

The sad look on your face just turned into one of surprise defeat.

“Am I not worth trying for?” You breathed and Miguel didn't like the way such a question caught him off guard, it was like his ears were ringing with it, with anxiety...with fear. It's not something he's prepared to deal with, he watched your eyes dim, and your brows raise in disbelief in front of him in real-time and it made him feel even more guilty.

“You're enough for me now.” Miguel lied through his perfect teeth and his answer was making you even more upset, slivers of sadness echoed through him. You let him lie though.

“Then why are you trying to change me?” Your voice faltered a little, and it sent shockwaves down Miguel's spine. He watched as your nose pinched pink like you were about to sniffle in sadness but you kept your guard up, you definitely wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“I'm not.” He said matter of factly, his face softening for a moment when his fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind your piping hot ear. “Don’t you see? It's you who's changing me.” You felt the depths of his voice scream in sincerity, soft-spoken. His gaze will always be as haunting as it is captivating, the one that makes you feel that you can finally see through him, but it was a beautiful illusion of the bliss he could bring you but never actually could.

“What am I to you, Miguel?” Miguel felt that you were actually withholding your anger from that and even then it still stung, you were still venomous yet harbored a tragic sadness that he couldn't help but feel guilty for. He was making you this miserable and you weren't even in a relationship. The passing thought struck him like lightning. “I know I'm not being fair or rational right now but I want more... need more from you.”

Miguel breathed out in frustration, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to shake some sense into you. “I want to. I want to give you more. I just-“ He forced the words out of him, manning up for the first time other than putting his fists in other people's faces.

He wanted to be good. He wanted to do good for you. But like he told you, he was never a good man to begin with. His lip quivered for a second but he didn't want to be weak in front of you...but you were breaking down his walls, at his door yelling to come in no matter the consequence. It would get you killed. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Why? I'm not this fragile, breakable object that needs to be kept behind glass at all times. You recruited me, you know I can take care of myself, so why is all that changing now?” You were tired and angry and you just wanted him to want you, to fight for you.

"I'm the one that needs to protect you, no one else can do that but me.” He gritted out, his teeth clenching together.

'”What about me? What if I want to protect you? What if I want to take care of you for once?” That was all you were trying to get across, that you wanted to love him, that you wanted to care for him.

“No.” He said simply.

“So, you can want me but I can't want you? That's such backward logic, Miguel. I just..I want you to know that I care for you, I want you. Not just Spiderman or the aphrodisiacs we've become - you. I want to know you, I just want you to let me in. Why won't you let me do that for you?”

“Because you're mine now!”Miguel's grip on your shoulders tightened. He was practically yelling at this point, he couldn't do this.

As much as he wanted to tell you, the words just died in his mouth. Miguel wanted to cry, he hadn't let a tear shed in so long, and now he was this pent-up ball of emotion that he couldn't even fathom let alone differentiate. He hung his head in between you, his head now facing the floor as his breaths started to turn into heavy pants. “Because you're mine now...I’m the only one that can protect you. But what is that worth when I’m so capable of hurting you. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeated gently, almost solemnly and all you could do was stare at him wide-eyed, stilling at his unexpected outburst. A tear dripped from his eye, he couldn't face you looking this weak. “I'm supposed to hold it all together, to protect everyone, to keep everyone safe, To keep you safe. I can't be weak, I can't be weak- I have to hold everything together.” He choked out, spluttering and then it all just clenched at his heart:he started quietly sobbing, his head still downcast but his hands softening on your shoulders. Your lips parted in pure unbridled shock, gaping down at him as he fell apart. You really couldn't fathom this, it was all happening so fast.

“I've failed.” Miguel stifled. “I've failed as a leader, a father, a lover. And it's all my fault...I can't hurt anyone else.” Miguel couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face, and then he felt it- your warm touch softly trailing the outside of his face, lifting it up seeing he connected with your sad, eager eyes. That look could make a man fall to his knees, and Miguel honestly felt like it, his knees went limp. Your hand gripped his face as you leaned into his body, he blinked his tears away as his gaze fell on you. Your beautiful face was ashen with sadness and he hated that he was the reason for it. But you were holding him like he was water in your hands. Your soft fingers smoothed away his tears and it was like he was at the altar begging for your forgiveness.

Miguel looked so beautiful. His heart was opening and breaking at the same time and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Miguel O'Hara was crying out in front of you, red eyes now a subdued hazel that you could fall in forever and never look back. All you wanted was to take care of him like he has for everyone else, to show him that he's worthy of love.

“Look at me...” You tipped his chin up and his lip quivered. “You are not a monster. You are not just Spiderman. You are not what you think you are, I've seen you up close and observed you from afar and this weekend has taught me so much about myself and what I want. All I want is to take care of you, to want you.” You had never been this honest about anything. The sincerity coursing through your body oozed out of every pore, radiating your need to want him. Miguel felt his heart stutter and his face freeze, he clenched his jaw to stop tears from pricking at his eyes as your words hit him like a brick. “Don't be the mask, let it out.” You added quietly. You gripped the back of his neck and placed it on your shoulder, your arms wrapping around him as if you would die if you ever let go.

Miguel stilled and then he melted into your embrace, feeling your warmth, he felt like Icarus being dragged into the relentless flames. Your acceptance of him was almost enthralling. You grasped his head into your hands, your eyes flitting from feature to feature as you felt him quite literally freeze in place-your fingertips were the salve to all wounds, the medicine to all sickness and Miguel was as damaged as can be. The walls he manufactured were nothing but dust between his fingertips, your unshakable will to not let him go, to love him as he is, guilt ridden and desperate, made him feel limp. Miguel's underbite clamped in an attempt to stop crying in front of you like this, to be so vulnerable in front of a woman was as foreign to him as being happy. He hasn't been happy in a long time and now you were here wanting to make him all better.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Your grip on his face tightened as if to show him how serious you were. Miguel sniffled and melted into your warm hands, turning his head slightly to kiss your palm. Silence whipped through the air, the crackling of nothing but each other's breaths keeping you both steady as you tried to find the words to say, and this time you were hellbent on being clear. “The moral ambiguity of your actions doesn't scare me, I feel like you don't understand that. The mistakes you made in your past don't define you. Bad people don't care if they're bad...and I know you're good. In your heart, I know you're good...It's why I love you.”

Miguel's eyes widened a fraction and glazed over twice. He felt his mind turn to white noise but he heard you clear as day, the words falling like scripture. Like you were meant to say it. The words felt so sweet and liberating in your mouth but your heart was plunging further and further down, afraid of his reaction. You loved him. The silence that settled between you was palpable, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from yours.

Miguel didn't say anything, he just grabbed you by the waist with his right arm, pulled you close, and smashed his lips against yours. The tears smeared his face and then dried into his skin. Your kisses were always passionate, but this was like wildfire spreading onto the ocean. A fire in December. Warmth in the darkness. Miguel's tongue seeked to find yours, a soft tangle of lust and tenderness- something that he thought he would never be able to have. He sucked the sadness out of your lips and it felt beautiful.

“Let me take care of you..” You whispered sensually in between kisses and Miguel groaned, his fingers pinching gently into your skin. “Let me love you.” Your soft tender sighs were the glue that seemed to hold him together, he paused, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure?” He was hesitant, unsure if you were willing to see past all of his mistakes, to love him as he is, to be intimate.

Instead of answering, you pressed your fingers against your watch to form a portal to Miguel's place, to show him that you don't care about anything other than him at this moment, that you were willing to accept him as he is. You weren't afraid of proving it, if you had to you would, and right now you were desperate to prove just how much you wanted him, Miguel's eyes widened when he felt the portal beam right beside you, giving you a soft hazy look as you extended your hand, offering him to take it

“Let me prove it to you.” You whispered and that was enough to do Miguel in.

You were his calling, a siren guiding him through muddy waters. He intertwined his fingers through yours and you felt like your soul was being bound to his with every second your soft touch traced against his. Whenever Miguel's hands were on you, they were calloused and rough, his talons protruding from his fingertips aggressively but this time...it was tender, it felt meaningful- his touch was gentle, the way he was holding your hand and letting you guide him to a fate he wasn't even sure of felt surreal. He just can't leave you alone.

You lead him into the portal as your grasp on him is firm, a warning for him to show that you weren't letting go, not this time. As you both stepped out of the portal into his living room, it sealed behind him and left you both blinking at each other compressed by the thick tension. Thank God for this watch, honestly, it could take anyone anywhere.

“Wait...” He muttered hesitantly as he stopped you in your tracks. Turning around, your gleaming eyes were lasered on him and you shivered into his touch as he put his hands on your waist as a means to stop you from going to the bedroom. His free hand went to cradle your face as his thumb caught on your lip. “Did I hurt you at all? When we fucked did I hurt you?” He murmured sensually and it sent a permanent smattering of goosebumps to dimple all over your heated skin. Miguel's eyes were dim with curiosity and most importantly seriousness.

“No. Never. You never hurt me.” You confirmed and it settled the pace of his beating heart a fraction, but it was always racing when he had his hands on you. “We've fucked but...You’ve never made love to me.” Your voice was honeyed and low, the words slipping from your tongue as you suggested it.

Make love?

Oh, baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about. He doesn’t make love.

All he knew was to fuck. Hard and animalistic. But that wanton scorching look in your eyes, so desperate for him to be gentle, to make you feel wanted. And fuck, he wanted you to feel cherished by him.

He hadn't been so intimate with another woman like this, even with the mother of his own child.

Your eyes were wide, lips wet and eager but not eager in the way that he always knew you to be, you were desperate to show him something new, you were taking control and he was following along. It was refreshing.

His thumb was brushing over those perfect lips, plush and pink with heat and blush. You were so damn beautiful it was haunting.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your sweet mouth pressed against his softly, pecking kisses at his lips as you slung your hands around his neck and rubbed his scalp tenderly. “Let me make love to you…” You breathed low and thick and Miguel felt his cock harden already, he whimpered into your mouth and your brain committed the once-in-a-lifetime sound to memory. You made Miguel O'Hara whimper, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Miguel melted into you, his atoms jumping within his body to the point where he leaned into you so eagerly. You opened your mouth to deepen the passionate kiss, he was going so fast but you placed your hands on his chest. “Go slow baby...Need you to go slow.”

Your low voice shot straight down to the tip of his cock and it pulsated within his suit. Miguel listened to you and his mouth moved slowly, his tongue massaged against yours gently, tasting the mouth he adored. You tasted even sweeter like this- this slow waltz of passion allowed him to savor every second of it. The fact that you were on your tiptoes wanton for his lips made him realize how sincere of a moment this was.

"You're so beautiful it hurts.” He pulled away and breathed raggedly. His words were making you so malleable, so bendy under his will and you wanted nothing more than to please him. It was at this moment that you grabbed his hands laced it between your fingers once again and led him to the bedroom. “On the right.” He said huskily.

You opened the door and Miguel trailed behind you like a lost puppy, eager to follow your every move like he was in a trance. He closed the door behind him and that's when you realized it was going to be a long night. Your hands slipped from his and you took a few steps forward so you were near the foot of his bed: You reached out and quickly turned on his bedside light. You wanted to see his face. Miguel just leaned against the door, watching intently to every microdose, to every fraction of a move you made- waiting for your next move. At this point, you wanted to test him. You let out a soft breath with the part of your lips and felt the zipper of your suit. Miguel tore through your clothes like a knife through hot butter just with the sharpness of his talons, this time you wanted to make this slow and less immediate. Miguel's eyes were fixed on you, eyebrows tensing with a strive he hadn't felt before. The tips of your fingers toyed with your zipper and you pulled it down hesitantly. You hear Miguel let out a short breath when you slide out of your suit, slivers of skin piercing his peripheral with your shimmering glow. The fabric pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it, only left in your pretty underwear and bra set. Even subconsciously you were dressing up for Miguel.

He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed when he saw how you looked under the golden glow of his bedside lamp, he saw you perfectly. Your frame was even more beautiful than the last time he gawked at you. His jaw clenched and his teeth gritted when his eyes wandered to your lips. You were biting it and small marks indenting the soft flesh. “Come here..”

Miguel stalked up to you slowly, playing along with you, feeling the gorgeous reality set over him.

You wanted to make love to him, and he wanted to make love to you. To feel you intimately, slowly, passionately. He wanted to take the time to memorize the way you react as he makes you feel good. When he fucked you, he only got flashes, now he wants the whole thing. He was hungry for it.

He was in front of you now, your breath mingling with his, and your eyes flitted from gorgeous feature to feature. Miguel's hand traced up your thigh in barely there touches and you hung your head to watch his ministrations and it felt like you were spellbound by his mysticism. His finger hooked onto the side of your underwear and twirled it gently. “Hmm.” He hummed in a clipped tone and his eyes met yours in a powerful connection. He watched the black of your eyes burst widely, you clearly liked what he was doing.

He was being so gentle with you, so slow. It felt so damn sexy. This waiting. This tension. It felt like the beginning of all of this but…better.

“Tell me, Cariño...What do you want me to do for you?” Miguel whispered as his fingers hooked under your chin to tilt your head back up, he noticed that your lips were already swollen by a few kisses. You were so gorgeous like this, it was inhumane.

“Undress me..” You murmured sweetly but the force of your words seemed more like a diverted beg. Miguel was savoring every second of this torturous process, watching the little twitches of that perfect body of yours under a magnifying glass.

“Hmmm. That what you want?”

"Mhmmm.”

With that, Miguel placed his palms on your back, feeling the straps of your bra as he traced his fingertips over the hooks, teasing you, watching the way your face and body reacted to his barely-there touches. You reveled in it, the uncertainty of the touches he put on you. He finally unhooked your bra, the snaps liberating you as the tension is being relieved bit by bit. You stifled a moan and that sound was so much hotter than a usual moan, you were suppressing it making it clear that you were already getting aroused.

And fucking hell, it was arousing. He wasn't even in you yet. See, before when you and Miguel were yearning for each other, neither of you was thinking straight. All you both needed was to fill each other, Now after that, there was something missing.

This feeling of emotional need was what was missing. This emotional connection and chemistry.

Miguel watched with creased intent eyes as he tugged the pretty bra off you, your breasts bouncing out of its confines. His eyes flicked to yours, one soft palm caressing your chest, that telltale squirm told him everything he needed to know.

“Such a beautiful body, such a pretty face. Like you were made for me Carino.”

“Miguel...” You whimper out slightly.

“What is it, baby?” His voice was gruff and smooth all at once, a velvety mixture of husky and sensuality. It was like he was cooing down at you. “Hmm?” You darted your head down as an indication to strip you of your underwear.

Miguel's lips parted as he understood immediately, his eyes didn't rip away from yours as he slowly bent down to his knees. He hooked his arms around the back of your legs and kept eye contact with you, a surge of arousal washing between you. He planted a few trailing kisses up your thighs and you squirmed into him lime clockwork. His fingers shimmied down your underwear delicately and you stepped out of the flimsy fabric.

“Kiss me.” You say under your breath in such a sweet voice. How could he ever say no to that? The last time he couldn't really remember it, he was so taken over by his primitive instincts that it was all over in flashes-relish every last bit of you.

Miguel let out a sharp breath as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of the back of your thighs before he cupped the globes of your ass, he was taking his time to feel you, to memorize it all and commit it to memory. Every time he touched your skin, it felt like he was touching God or angel matter. As his mouth placed teasing kisses on your lower stomach his aind was beginning to reel. You were arching into him, your fingers sinking deeper into his hair. He gave you one last look as a confirmation and all he got back was a pretty blushing face with a slack jaw and parted lips. “Need you…” You muttered and that's when his mouth started to suckle on your pussy, his lithe tongue moving up and down and in and out, he was keeping you guessing and it made you all the more frustrated and wet. His nose nudged your swollen clit and it made your body jolt from the aftershock.

“You always taste like heaven incarnate...” he mumbled between licks and all you could do was moan. You were caught off guard when he started to suckle on your clit, his pace was torturous, so slow and you were becoming more and more needy.

“Miguel...Please I-“ You tried to protest but you weren't even sure what you were protesting for and before you could even get off he rose from his knees and wrapped his arms around you, his mouth shutting you up.

Miguel's hands were placed firmly on your ass, squeezing tightly whenever you moaned into his desperate mouth. Your lips were melting into each other and blurring into a slow, wickedly passionate make-out. “It was like my name was supposed to come out of your mouth.” He felt like a teenager about to lose his virginity he was that excited. Your arms hung around his neck and your tongue was so sweet in his mouth, exploring unhurriedly but he knew you were at your threshold- even though he got a taste, you were still reeling from the fact he wouldn't let you finish.

Your mouth unsheathed from his and you both took a beat to gawk at each other. A dark look fell onto Miguel's eyes as he saw your cheeks pink and red with arousal. His hands cradled your pretty face and you looked like a doll in his palms.

“Want me to make love to you, yeah? Make you feel just how deeply I need you?” His voice was strained and low, seduction scraping at his vocal chords and it sent waves of neediness course through your body. The connection your gazes held was a simmering fire that was beating with passion. It was impossible to look away

“Yes." You breathed out sensually, an angelic hazy daze clouding your brain as the word just fell from your lips.

“You're so beautiful, querida.”He kissed your forehead tenderly and your breaths became even more rapid when you felt your legs go limp. He was holding your face like you were a jewel, you leaned your head forward to kiss him on the lips and Miguel just held you back with just the might of his palms. “Easy ángel...” He murmured. “Be patient f’me. You wanted me to make love to you, let me take my time with you then mi amor. Let me feel you.” His easy words just made soft moans roll from your tongue, he was doing a damn good job at making you feel not just wanted but cherished.

Miguel planted a kiss on your temple, you were squirming in his touch, rolling your body onto his. “You know, I haven't been doing well without you...Even after a day, you make me lose my wind with just how badly I need you.” he planted a kiss on your cheek and whispered hotly in your ear. “I got you baby, stay still f’me." He then kissed the corner of your mouth and then fully engulfed your lips with his. You were red hot with anticipation, your senses skyrocketing with every second but the reality was slow and agonizing- it was perfect. You decided to take the lead now, you got Miguel on the bed and he leaned up on the headboard, your head was in between his clothed thighs and you pouted. Miguel quickly rid of the holographic suit and his rock-hard cock sprung free in front of your face. The look on your face was priceless, a mixture of eagerness and seduction- it was a brain fuck.

“Let me taste you too.” Your tone was doused in pure lust and before Miguel's eyes could widen, your tongue stuck out and licked the head of his leaking cock. It wasn't like the first time you gave him head though, this was solely focused on him, no challenges, no teasing, no games. Just making him feel good. You gave kitten licks to his sensitive slit, those barely-there touches already driving him to the sharp edge. Your warm, wet mouth finally covered his tip, suckling gently and swirling him with your tongue, the salty taste of him you craved was already filling up your senses, he tasted so good.

“Mmm..fuck.. you're too good to me, so good f'me.” He let out a strained groan as his head tipped back slightly. You lapped him tenderly, sliding him down your throat, little by little. It felt...loving.

Miguel felt himself still in place when your warm mouth left him hanging, it was you who was prepping him this time. You crawled onto his lap with this innocent glimmer in your eyes, a look that was of mere longing and yearning, a face so eager to please. You settled between his thighs and Miguel's face was steely and serious, he really wanted to show you exactly the kind of love he harbored for you but you had other ideas and Miguel was uncharacteristically allowing you to do whatever you pleased.

“Wanna ride you...” You say softly as your hands massaged at his shoulders and Miguel is already letting out small groans at the slightest bit of contact. You placed your hands on his and guided them to your face, the pads of his fingers traced over your skin and you tilted your head to kiss his palm, then you caught one of his fingers in your mouth, suckling and twirling your tongue around the tip of it softly. Miguel sighed deeply at the pretty sight before you let it go with a pop. “Can I do that for you?” You breathed out.

This all felt so...personal.

Like you were reaching to the darkest depths of who he was and loving him anyway.

It made him burn for you. Miguel's cock was slapping against your stomach, your eyes darted from his face to his length and it made you wet your lips. “Mhmm.” He rasped, his big palms landed on the dip of your waist, helping you guide yourself on him. Before he could though, you leaned in and chastely kissed the tip of his nose, the bridge of his nose, and his forehead. Jesus Christ, it was like you knew exactly how to make him putty in your hands. You gave him a lazy smile as you rose up and eased yourself down on his cock, your pretty pussy swallowed him up entirely like always- even after he's fucked you so many times, he still never got used to how wet and tight your pussy was. Your eyes never broke from his as your tits pressed into his chest, you whined in his ear and his hands burrowed in your soft sweet hair, the strands falling down like a waterfall. "Ah...Mig-“

"Always taking me so well. Do you have any idea just how good you feel, mm?” He grunted out, his big arms wrapping around you entirely, trapping you in him. He was always balls deep inside you, there was no space left between you and that was just how you liked it. “My pretty girl. My beautiful girl. I need you.” He cooed.

You moaned when your hips started subconsciously moving, grinding down on him and making discernable shapes on his cock. Miguel watched you with awe equated to being starstruck, you were bouncing on him and rutting your greedy cunt on him trying to get yourself off on him. “You always- Fuck. Fill me up so good.” You moaned out, your mind all hazy from his brute strength alone, he was forcing you to stay put on his thighs, spending whatever time you needed to please him. Miguel slowed you down as he caught your supple lips with his, it was a desperate kiss that was bursting with flames and then your pace got slower, savoring the kiss. You broke away with a moan and sunk your teeth into his shoulder blades, Miguel's mouth was on the crook of your neck peppering you with the sweet kisses you were aching for, and you felt him inhale the scent of you deeply. His hands apathetically palmed your tits, he rolled the nipples between his nimble fingers, pulling and nipping on them with his teeth and smoothing them with a suckle.

Hm.

He's not known for being kind.

But feeling you like this made him thaw.

Lord, he just wanted to please you, make you feel good and you were just as inclined to do the same thing-bursting each other up with the flames of passion.

“Mmm. Slow yeah? Slow for me. Take your time for me, baby.” He mumbled out through strained pants, you were jerking on him steadily and his eyes tore away from yours to stare at the bulge of your stomach- he was so fucking deep in you it bulged out of your tummy. Miguel's ego skyrocketed at the sight. Fuck, that perfect body of yours would be the death of him. "Look how fuckin deep I am- He pressed the bulge on your stomach and it made your body twitch wildly, you quite literally felt him pulsate inside of you and it made you clench even harder around him. He felt an orgasm approach him, teetering off that blissful edge that tipped between sweet heaven and damning hell.

God, he felt too good, stretching you and bottoming out into you.

When you pressed your forehead against his and whispered “I love you” to him, that was it.

Miguel moaned and rolled you over so that he was on top of you, his legs trapped you in place and his cock was still aching inside you, craving your friction. He weaved his fingers with yours as he pushed in and out of you, Miguel's knuckles turned white as your palm flatted from bliss into the mattress.

He had never done this during sex before, the simple intimacy of hand-holding turned into something so much more consuming. Miguel's figure loomed over you, his eyes piercing and moody, a whirlwind of passion and emotion making his eyes crystal clear than before.

You stared at Miguel.

Miguel stared at you.

Watching each fraction of your body intently, the way your face moved with every thrust, the plush of your cheeks pillowing whenever you whined, the crease of your eyebrows when he hit that spongy spot so deep inside you. The eye contact was driving both of you insane.

“This what you wanted? Me to look after you? Me to take care of you?” He questioned lowly, the strained words coming out in a deep husk. He was deadly serious, it was easy to see when he was glaring at you. That steely resolve melted slightly when you rolled your body against his, your bodies slid together so closely that not even a sheet of paper could fit through.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You whispered against his lips, your soft breaths were being knocked out of you with a very torturous slow thrust. It made your collision all the more beautiful. Miguel had fucked you so many times during that weekend but this, was otherworldly, this was the true connection, this was lovemaking. He was cherishing you, treating you like pearls and gold in his hands and it made you feel lucky to be alive, The electricity was hot, the gaze you both shared was simmering heat encased with something other than just chemistry.

“I'm not hurting you am I?” He asked inquisitively, his voice cool and suave.

“No, no, no, no, no....No, fuck, you're perfect.” You responded in pleading tandem, your eyes widening with a worrythat he would stop

“I love you, you know that? God, I love you.” He babbled and that's when you felt his thrusts falter and your nerve endings singe, it was like he was taking your beating heart and meddling with it to go faster, to give in.

“I love y-“ Miguel cut off your words with a scorching kiss, his fangs nipped at your lower lip and his teeth bit the supple flesh and pulled back, it snapped back into place and a shaky moan fell from your swollen lips and hs grip on your hands tightened.

You were so close.

This sizzling passion was eating you up alive.

Miguel watched your body react to him and it was a sight created in heaven.

“Miggy...Mig...I'm g'na cum...Just wanna cum for you.” You moaned drunkenly. Miguel's lips captured around your nipple, suckling it and grazing it with his teeth before his eyes latched onto yours again.

“Cum for me baby. Wanna watch you cum for me.” He breathed out raggedly, his gaze dimming and hair in disarray.

Your pussy was so drenched for him as always, but this time you were leaking, the slow pace offering a new and rare kind of satisfaction. When his cock nudged and ground on your clit, you knew you couldn't hold it in anymore. Hot euphoria washed over you in waves, and a new kind of electricity coursed down your thighs anf you soaked his dick in your wetness. “Thaaat's it...I'm right here, I got you.” Miguel fucked you through your mind-altering orgasm.

It was so different. So surreal. When that list final whine fell from your pretty lips, he was already cumming before he could even stop himself. He spread your insides a thick stringy white, spurting out how much you meant to him. His strained pants were soaking your glowing skin, and a thin layer of sweat coated your body in the dim room.

“Shit...”He muttered before your lips collided with his. Your tongue delved into his mouth, taking what he would give you like you were a cat chasing after a mouse. Miguel rolled off of you to your side but his arms were still wrapped around you, your lips still connected in that heady unforgettable kiss. Your hands nestled in his hair, your gentle fingers raking through the strands as you broke away from his mouth and when you looked back into his eyes Miguel's gaze was just as piercing as before.

Miguel stared at you.

You stared back at him.

Your cheeks stained pink as you gave him a lazy fucked out smile. Miguel had the urge to fuck you like that again now. He loved what he had just experienced though. Missionary was so much better like this. It was so much better when he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. When you kissed him on the forehead and told him you loved him, he knew that this was different.

A sudden wash of defensiveness tightened at his chest. You should've walked away from him. He should've walked away from you...but you didn't and that was a risk in itself, no one knew how it would unfold.

Miguel had his temper.

You were stubborn.

What if- What it-?

Miguel watched you like a lovesick fool, your pretty face warming his cheeks and dimming his eyes. He contemplated you for a moment, your presence, your smile, your warmth.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

He wanted to wake up to you every day, he wanted to take you out to dinner, make you feel special, make you his.

You both just gawked at each other blankly, sweet words filling the sweet atmosphere. All this yearning, all this pining lead up to this.

You were flustered. He was flustered.

You felt so fulfilled, so wanted, so needed by him- it had never been like this with anyone.

Miguel was facing his fears head-on with you by his side. His anxieties were quelled with every moment he spent here with you, he found that your soft breathing and guileless eyes were what was keeping him afloat.

Y’ALL I HOPE U LIKED THIS SERIES!!! the amount of support is unbelieveable ilysm! i will be writing an extra bonus chapter for u ;)) iknow i def need to do a masterlist and i will get on it soon i promise (tumblr deleted my old one smh)

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house ri @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @honeycovered-bandaids @hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax @soymiguelsesposa @heartthrobinsblog @siidmm @queerponcho @luvingmyships @dhollandhs @kehlanilopez @lyrasdrawer

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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sm-baby · 4 months

Text

The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

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Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them.

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied.

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy?

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him."

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap.

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options.

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious.

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option.

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body.

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.."

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle.

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy.

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him.

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her…

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered.

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull.

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again!

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence…

The blue Brother stared.

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time?

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text.

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least."

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings.

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine.

She'll be fine.

She's fine.

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened.

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up.

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe.

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company."

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared.

Snap!

Blip!

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one.

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up…

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

“ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice. -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm. - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend. - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door.

*(Take items?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni. I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance. -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian…

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game?

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game…

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire.

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet.

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-"

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine…

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-"

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table.

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest.

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… "

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this…

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since…

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking. The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL."

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure.

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

> Talk

> Say nothing

>Talk

*(Talk about…)

> Place

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.”

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother.

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh?

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf. The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say??

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…”

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form.

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death!

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “ I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word.

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down.

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?"

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief… at this point he was almost over it…

Was that really it?

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because…

Because…

Oh heavens how embarrassing.

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog…

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair…

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him.

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself.

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?"

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time…

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care.

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated…

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself.

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something…

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great..

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there.

she would read the signs

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2

|| Note: consider more coloring options for the tent. -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta

||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance. -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over.

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?"

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?"

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?"

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy."

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable.

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus…

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride.

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door.

“ A moment alone."

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair.

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy.

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate.

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “

The brushing stopped,

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze.

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well.

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked.

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure.

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business.

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled…

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear."

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued.

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks."

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened.

Caine moved closer to the door. “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head.

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan.

This isn't over yet.

983 notes · View notes

lewkwoodnco · 2 months

Text

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day."

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?"

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face.

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that."

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.”

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope.

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #valentines day #fluff

208 notes · View notes

navstuffs · 11 months

Text

two weeks

Pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

Summary: "give me two weeks, you won't recognize her."

Warnings: songfic, SMUT SO MINORS DNI, sort sub!leon, confident reader

Author's Notes: if you know this song, you already know what's coming ;) this fanfic is also an ode to my queen fka twigs (so you can imagine the pressure i felt writing this lol). leon is also very lucky with me; first sade and now fka twigs? he is a lucky motherfucker man. enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist

"I know it hurts, you know I'd quench that thirst

(I can treat you better than her)

You say you're lonely, I say you'll think about it"

Like most things in your life, it doesn't start the "right" way. Yes, there is a date, but never a proper second or maybe third date, then a kiss. And at a particular stage of life, you didn't think you could seduce or date anyone. Even more so, your partner and friend Leon S. Kennedy. You had lost your touch or never really had one. And he was clearly in love with somebody else.

You had to hear about it occasionally if you decided to join him to drink. It bothered you more than it should, but you could do nothing about it.

And Leon Kennedy had the tendency to only "flirt" as a joke, anyway.

The smiles, the flirty smiles in your direction. They started here and there, just a tiny detail you didn't think much of, figuring it was just Leon being Leon. Then, the flirting. As if you could call it flirting, the man straight invited you to dinner after you two almost died in the hands of a B.O.W.

Leon's priceless face, when you accept it, makes everything almost all worth it.

"Higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover

Flying like a streamer, thinking of new ways to do each other"

Leon is unsure during dinner. You watch his eyes wander around the restaurant, never looking straight at your face. The menu has confusing names with food you have never heard of. Leon had chosen a fancy place he clearly never went, and also somewhere he wasn't comfortable.

Later, after eating what you think was a snail with a weird tomato, you question why he brought you here. Leon mumbles he never thought you would accept it.

"Why?"

"I guess because you know...my situation."

"I know it hurts, you know I'd put you first

(I can fuck you better than her)"

Ada Wong? Oh, you knew their situation pretty well. You have heard more than once, actually: she and Leon seem to be connected to each other with a certain tension that never seems to die down over the years. This doesn't frighten you; you never ran away from a challenge. You preferred the harder ones anyway.

You wouldn't be stealing Leon from her since he was never his. And even if he was, it didn't matter.

"It doesn't really matter," You conclude, finishing your drink.

"Why not?"

"Because you could be mine at the end. We can't risk that."

The smile Leon gives you is all the answer you need.

"Feel your body closing, I can rip it open

Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing"

You are bad, Leon realizes, really bad. It is the way you make him feel pleasure, the way look at him, fierce and daring, as if he is the only one for you. It makes him feel special, unique, like Ada never could. Not because she didn't want to but.

"Hey, eyes on me, Leon."

Your authoritative voice calls him back, and Leon feels a chill. He had only seen you concentrated like this during missions. Looking deadly and calm, Leon Kennedy is your target now. Leon shouldn't have invited you to his apartment, but he was curious. Curious to see how further you could actually go.

How you would make him yours.

It could be enough, Leon thinks, his hand pushing your head down into his hard cock. He likes to watch you suffocate and how good your lips are around his dick, your mouth wet and slippery, perfect for him.

After falling into bed, exhausted, Leon confesses, his face hidden by his sweaty hair.

"This...could work."

You smirk back. You could work with that.

"Smoke on your skin to get those pretty eyes rolling

My thighs are apart for when you're ready to breathe in"

You don't call Leon the next day. Or the other. He calls you on Monday night after a full day of behaving like nothing happened during the weekend as if you two remained just good co-workers.

He comes by your house, and you imagine he will want to finish everything. It would be typical of Leon to get afraid if someone got too close. Leon would apologize and argue it was all a mistake. His kiss as soon as you open the door silences your internal doubts. Leon Kennedy is there, and he wants you.

You take him to your bedroom, clothes falling on the way, and you ignore the little emotion you have when he looks so vulnerable under your palms. You suck him again because Leon Kennedy asks for it. It seems someone has gotten addicted to your mouth.

"So good. Fuck."

You let him moan and tremble in your bed. A bed that you often imagined you would, one day, have Leon for yourself, just for you. His moans fill up the room, and you suspect you will never be able to sleep again without thinking about it.

"Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing

High motherfucker, get your mouth open, you know you're mine"

You are at his house now, almost two weeks since this started. Leon has you under him, back against the mattress, legs spread apart. You look a mess, and he loves it. His hands rub your chest, giving your nipple a good squeeze, focusing on moving his hips against you. The way you liked. Oh yeah, Leon Kennedy, in less than two freaking weeks, knows precisely where to hit.

"Shit." He groans, his mouth open with his eyes semi-closed.

He looks sinful. If there was ever some God of sex around or a demon, Leon would be one of his forms used to seduce people. And he is trembling, shaking, panting because of you.

"Leon."

You must remind him to bring himself back and stop teasing you. He looks at you, and his blue eyes darken.

"What do you want? What do you need? You gotta tell me."

Oh, Leon, you think smiling. Still naive about whom exactly was in control there. He forgets sometimes you are as trained as he is. Taking him by surprise, you shift positions, sitting on top of him. Leon's dick goes further inside you, making you both groan.

"You forget Leon, I don't have much patience."

You watch as Leon Kennedy simply collapses in front of your eyes. It had been like this every night you had been together, Leon's expression changing to pure bliss. You think it was nice seeing him like this as you gently grab his face.

"Come on, you know what to do by now."

Leon licks his lips, moaning your name. He raises his hips up with ease, starting to meet your thrusts. You smile, victorious. After you both cum, bodies trembling, you can feel Leon examining your face as his warm hand rubs your cheek gently.

"We could do this if you still want me."

It is adorable how unsure he is still with himself, although his dick was buried deep inside you. As if you hadn't been banging your brains like crazy those last two weeks. But it is the first time he has been truly open.

You lick your lips, whispering.

"I know you aren't mine yet, but..."

"I want to be."

You look into his eyes, looking for any trace of insecurity from Leon. There was none, just the heavy stare of his confession. Leon reminded you of a younger version of himself, one you saw in a picture, his big blue eyes anxious and his face watching you. You knew you were in danger territory now: Leon was letting you in.

"We could do this" Your voice sounds vulnerable and different from earlier. More emotional "It will be slow. We will take our time. No rush."

"Yes."

Leon Kennedy opens a smile that has you hide your face on his neck. You want more, much more, but for now, this is enough.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #i seriously 100% hope i made justice to my queen fka twigs #CAUSE THIS SONG IS NOT TOO BE MESSED WITH

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 3 months

Note

James T. Kirk?

My immediate instinct is he would choose the wolves.

So Kirk's main strength is he listens to his advisors. He doesn't leap to conclusions, he asks for analysis first. But if he's in Castle Dracula he hasn't got his advisors - but he still has the sense that bids him heed them. He'll make his observations and keep his logs, and draw conclusions in due course.

I think Kirk would be as good or better at plating Scheherezade as Jonathan is. He knows how to negotiate and he knows how to seduce. He spooks less easily too. I think he and Dracula would be well matched at playing the Game and that might be enough to keep the Game interesting enough for him to survive. Heck, he'd probably challenge him to perpetual chess.

His chief disadvantage is that he's very good at escaping things. I don't think he would succeed at escaping, but I think he would make more and better attempts than Jonathan does, because that's his job that's what he does. Given how poorly Dracula reacts to Jonathan's own attempts, it's possible that being too much better at it would convince Dracula that he is a real threat and make a point of ending him.

If he's allowed to have his own genre conventions, I think there's an outcome where he successfully convinces one of the Girlies to help him. Although I think if she does that attempt ends with her dead (Dracula does not tolerate betrayal) and Kirk still trapped, and punished on top of that. (What Dracula doesn't realize is that taking Kirk's clothes only makes him stronger).

If Dracula doesn't kill him for trying to escape one too many times and if he makes it to June 30th, I am confident in Kirk's ability to make it down the wall, and I think he would probably try to hit him with the shovel too. Well actually he would have improvised a weapon before now. So honestly I do think Kirk has all the skills needed to survive Castle Dracula, and none of the obvious fatal flaws.

But I still do think that if it comes down to a choice between death and vampirism (as on June 29th) he'll choose death. Kirk is very willing to die for his principles, and to defy the expectations of his captors just for the sake of it. And I don't think even he could take on an entire pack of wolves by himself.

So this one for me is a really close call. Like his own genre won't let him die that way so he would be beamed out at the last second. But going by the parameters I've laid out, I think he would almost make it, but ultimately not survive Castle Dracula

#star trek #star trek tos #james t kirk #spacemen

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thewulf · 1 year

Text

Unexpectedly Part 2 || Aaron Hotchner

Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 7.1k

TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.

*Two Months Later*

‘I’m in Virginia. Just like you. How peculiar?’

Hands slightly shaking you gently placed your phone down on the conference room table. It never was going to stop. The slight form of torture this cruel man imposed on you. Knowing that just when you seemed to forget about him, he’d come crawling right back into your field of view. Remind you that he was always going to win. He’d been messing with your head sending these vague texts from new numbers after you blocked the old. It wasn’t enough that you’d changed your number three fucking times now, he always seemed to find a way.

You’d contemplated asking Garcia for some help. She would make you disappear in an instant. But, then you’d have to deal with the repercussions of telling the office gossip the juiciest tea that they’d had in a while. They’d all know, and you weren’t sure you could deal with that just yet. You were finally feeling steady and confident in your abilities again. Feeling like you were doing great at work again. You couldn’t mess this up.

Truth be told you hadn’t a clue what came next after this. JJ was still planning to be off for another few months. Perks of having a decent government job, as they say. But what came after that? Were you really just planning on running away time and time again only to be chased by this guy? That wasn’t a life you wanted to live. It wasn’t a life you were willing to live if you were honest with yourself.

An opaque sheen glazed over your eyes as you looked outside ignoring the text that loomed over you so harshly. It’d been five days since he bothered you. You’d almost forgotten. Almost.

A featherlight touch brushed over your shoulder breaking you out of the trance you were deeply in. Jumping your eyes widened when you spotted Aaron looking down at you.

Things were… complicated with him. You liked him. He liked you. But it couldn’t happen. No matter how much either of you wanted it to. They just couldn’t. Not while he was your boss. He had made that adamantly clear in the two months you’d been working for him. The two of you seemingly having the conversation almost every week now.

“Sorry.” His usual stoic face didn’t break as he sat down next to you, “I was calling for you. Everything okay?”

You hummed while nodding your head, “Yup. Just thinking.” Absentmindedly you grabbed your phone holding it in your hand on the opposite side from him. He noticed. He noticed all the small things about you and what you did. The things you probably didn’t even know that you were doing. How sometimes you got spacey when your phone went off. How you were clearly hiding something from him. But he wouldn’t push. It wasn’t his place as your boss. Not until it affected your work did, he have a right. No matter how much he desired too.

“Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow, challenging you. He knew how much you hated that. Hated being questioned like a toddler. Being the only not profiler on the team had you on the defensive all too often now.

“I’m good Hotch.” You nodded briefly before getting up. Being around him was downright suffocating. It was hard to be alone with him when you wanted so much more. It was selfish to run. Childish even but you couldn’t stand it. Not when the two of you danced around the subject so awkwardly.

“Wait… Y/N. Before you go.” He coughed spinning around in the chair.

You paused. He hardly used your first name at work. He knew exactly what to do to get you to stop. Pause for him, “Yes, Hotch?”

He stood, towering over you as he stopped in front of you. Hotch just made you feel small. Not that it was a bad thing per say. Just intimidating. And right now, Aaron Hotchner was terribly fucking intimidating without even trying to be. Whatever he asked you were sure you’d answer, all too honestly.

He decided to confront you. He hadn’t a clue what came over him as he started stating facts. The profiler coming out, “You’ve hidden your phone away the last four times I’ve run into you lost in your thoughts.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “You get all spacey and people have a hard time getting your attention. Is everything alright?”

Your heart rate picked up. How’d he notice? He was the best of the best but damn. You thought you did so much better, “You sound like Spencer.” You remarked, clearly deflecting.

“Y/N.”

You sighed, “Please don’t tell the rest of them?” You knew there wasn’t a chance you could come up with an excuse good enough to please Hotch. It was the truth that had to be told.

He nodded offering your seat back to you. Slowly walking back to the chair, you sat there staring back out the window before starting the long story of how you fell in love, fell into a trap, got engaged to a monster, and somehow got away before he fully killed you. Or so you thought.

He never interrupted you. Sitting there patiently as you divulged your biggest secret to your boss. The man you had a disgustingly big crush on. He only continued when you paused for a while. He knew it was the end of your story and it had taken a toll on you telling him all of that. He needed to come at you gently now. It explained so much about you.

“Y/N… that’s a lot.” He sighed knowing his words weren’t great. He was a good boss but never good with words. He showed his love for his teams through his actions. He always seemed to fumble his words, “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded, “It’s fine. It’s not the worst part.”

His head snapped right back to you, “What’s the worst?”

“He found me again. He’s been texting me. A new phone number every few days. Usually something threatening.” You opened you phone showing him the latest text message.

He snatched it from your grasp reading over it carefully. Well, this officially sucked for you. Maybe you should’ve told him sooner judging by the expression on his face, “You know I have to go to Garcia. She’s going to have to trace this…”

You interrupted him, “No! Please Aaron no. They can’t know. You promised.”

“This is serious!” He snapped, never taking safety lightly.

You took an involuntary scoot backward in the chair. Fight or flight mode beginning to kick in hearing his stern voice that he rarely used with the team.

Seeing your distressed face, he shook his head internally cursing himself for the outburst. You’d literally just spilled your deepest fears to him, and he was already seemingly betraying that trust already. Putting his hands up he took a small step forward, testing your boundaries, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice it’s just that this is very serious Y/N. We both know what he’s capable of. This isn’t something you hide. Not when you work here.”

You nodded looking away in guilt, “I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it.”

“You don’t have to handle it alone Y/N. You’ve got some of the smartest people in the field right here. All the resources you need at the tip of your fingers. You know the team would never judge you for something you can’t control. Please tell me you know that much.” Aaron’s face softened seeing you so upset.

“Yeah, it’s just… I don’t know.” You sighed while you rested your head in the palm of your hands refusing to look at him. This felt awkward and uncomfortable. Your absolute nightmare.

He waited a moment, realizing you weren’t talking anymore, “Go on. Say what you want to.”

“It’s embarrassing. How could I not have caught that he was lying the whole time? It’s shameful.”

He shook his head scooting closer to you, “And I got played by a serial killer who literally murdered my ex-wife and almost took me too. It’s not embarrassing. It happens. The best of the best get beaten. Believe it. You’re a victim and you’re being retraumatized right now. Please. I need you to understand that. I’ve grown to…” He took a second to find the right words, “care for you. I can’t see you beaten down and scared around every corner. Alright?”

You shook your head. You heard him. You weren’t sure if you believed him, but you sure did hear him, “Sure.”

He waited another moment before continuing, “That being said. I don’t have to go to Penelope if you have somebody stay with you. A friend? Just in case.”

You frowned. Not having anybody was really coming to bite you in the ass. It’s not like Hotch was going to drop this, you knew that was a given, “I don’t have anybody around here. I haven’t really had time to make many friends. Busy job and all.” You admitted still trying to find a footing outside of work. Although the hours made it damn near impossible.

He thought for approximately one second before springing into action, “Let me call Jess. She could probably watch Jack tonight…”

You shook your head back and forth, violently, “No!”

“Why not?” He looked genuinely confused.

“That’s weird Hotch. You’re just my boss.” You might’ve thrown a little more attitude in there than you really needed to, but you wanted him to know how unhappy you were with that. How much you yearned to at least be considered friends. But he shut it down the second you crossed the line.

“It’s not weird.” He would’ve scoffed if he knew it wouldn’t have upset you. He was getting good at making you upset. That was about the most opposite thing of what he wanted, “I’ll sleep on your couch. Just to make sure you’re safe.”

You sighed knowing the two of you would just be going back and forth but you needed him to hear how crazy he sounds, “Aaron. I’m not letting you abandon your son for the night to sleep on my couch. I’ve been fine for the last two and half months. I’ll be fine tonight.” You smiled hoping it’d appease him.

He shook his head, “Yeah, that’s just not going to happen. Not now that I know about it.”

“Hotch…”

“No, that’s final. Jess is good with watching him for the night anyway.” He held up his phone showing you the text as proof.

“You’re being insane.” You leaned back in your chair annoyed with his stubbornness.

“And you’re being irrational.” He countered annoyed with your inability to see how serious this really was, “Y/N. He probably knows exactly where you live. If he found you that quickly he’s probably been watching you.”

You shook your head, “I’ve been paying attention Hotch.” Eyes closed you didn’t want to admit you were almost afraid to open them. You knew you were pissing him off. It wasn’t often that anyone, besides Rossi, argued back to the boss. It was his way or the highway, as they say.

“I’m not saying you haven’t Y/N. But these people… people like that will never stop. That text is very threatening. Please. Please just let stay over. To make sure you’re okay.” He was saying the words he couldn’t say but he needed to. Your unwillingness just to see how scary this really was drove him to his breaking point.

Huffing you gave him a small nod, “Fine. But going forward…”

He cut you off, “We’ll figure out going forward tomorrow. Don’t worry about it tonight.”

“But Hotch…”

Cutting you off again you groaned in annoyance, loudly, “Just, try to relax. I’ll think of something. I know you don’t want me to tell the team and I’m going to try and respect that. But you have to know if it’s between your safety or them knowing… keeping you safe is all that matters.”

Your leg bounced up and down and your stomach feeling uneasy you looked up to him, “Yeah, sure.” Simply too tired to argue with the ever-confusing man you shut your laptop before getting up to go pack up. It was already half past eight, the team was long gone.

The sun was beginning its descent for the night, casting an orange hue on your boss. It dawned on you as you admired, he man you’ve been crushing on way too hard, being teased and all about it, that he was staying in your apartment that night. Under any other scenario it was entirely desirable but now? Not so much. Not under these circumstances.

“Where are you going?” He asked, slightly surprised you’d been so bold as to walk away in the middle of the conversation.

“Packing up then going home.” You paused in the doorway sneaking a quick peek back at the man you was watching you intently.

He frowned after hearing your words, “Give me three minutes then I can drive.”

“Oh, I can drive myself home. I’ll text you the address.” You gave him a half-hearted smile. Truth be told you were far too excited to have him spend the night. Even if it was in another room. He insisted on it. But then again, he’d already set a clear line in the sand with you. You could only be his employee when you worked for him. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He smiled trying to ease your obvious nerves, “You’re being weird about it.”

“I’m being weird? Hotch, it’s fucking weird.” You spun back around preparing to walk away before he caught your attention again.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” His smile turned into a smirk. He knew how you felt for him. You were pretty sure you knew how he felt for you. This back and forth was driving you mad. Like he wanted to play the game but knew it couldn’t be won.

You wanted to smack the usually so intelligent man, it felt like he was just playing you like a fiddle now, “Yeah, sure.” This time you walked away making sure to pack up quickly. Your speedy exit was stopped suddenly as he got into the elevator with you. Somehow with his go-bag and all.

“What’s wrong?” He asked setting his bag down turning his body completely to you. He knew what he was doing to you. He knew it was mean. He couldn’t deny it. But he loved flirting with you, getting you a little wound up. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he adored you just as much as you liked him, if not more. But he couldn’t risk it. For his career. For your blooming one.

You leaned your shoulders and head back on the metal wall, “You’re kidding?” You sighed while lazily flipping your head in his general direction.

“I’m not.”

Rolling your eyes, you knew he’d make you say it out loud. It was easier to spit it out than skirt around the subject, “This is torture. Working so close to you all the time. You flirting like that then turning me down the next fucking second.”

“You know why nothing can happen.”

“I’m very well aware. We’ve had this conversation before Hotch. A million times.” The two of you had delicately danced around the conversation, never full on admitting any feelings. Hotch had to squash that before it came to fruition.

He visibly frowned knowing he was upsetting you, “You can call me Aaron.”

“But I can’t! None of your other employees do. So why should I? What makes me special Hotch?” You challenged him. He couldn’t have both at once. He couldn’t just be your boss then talk to you like this. It was driving you mad.

He sighed knowing you were right, “Rossi doesn’t.”

“Rossi’s different and you know that.” You were frustrated. As much as you loved the job you couldn’t keep going down the path of yes one moment and no the next. Hotch just couldn’t comprehend just how crazy he was driving you. Either that or you were hiding it insanely well.

He cleared his throat knowing he really only had this chance to not fuck it up between the two of you. He’d been trying to come up with different ways always to be struck down in his own mind. He’d continue thinking though, for both of your sakes.

“Y/N. I like you. More than a boss should like their employee.” He paused letting out the breath he was holding in, “I can’t risk anything right now though. I can’t risk it and you can’t risk it. Not with this guy out to hurt you, with Strauss up my ass about the team…” He trailed off knowing this was just turning into an excuse now.

The elevator chirped as Hotch paused, signaling you were at the bottom. You walked out quickly hoping he wouldn’t follow. When he met your stride, you continued on, “It’s fine Hotch. I get it. Please just stop playing with me when the team isn’t around. It’s diving me crazy. If it can’t happen, it can’t happen, and I can accept that. I just need you to back off.” It hurt you to push him away. Even if he was staying at your place your quietness and unwillingness to even open up to him let him know you were shutting him away.

Turning away from him before you could see his reaction you walked to your car briskly hoping he’d just take his. It’d be far too awkward to share a vehicle now. Not after you just said that to him.

But you were sorely mistaken. You heard him following along. Not so close as to freak you out but close enough to where you knew he was there, “Keys.”

“I can drive myself.” You retorted irritated with him. He wasn’t listening and it was making you irrationally angry. Acting as if what you just said didn’t faze him.

“No, you really can’t. You’re upset and you really shouldn’t drive when you’re angry.”

Biting your cheek, you knew he was right. You placed your car keys into his outstretched hand. Refusing to look at him you walked to the passenger’s side contemplating sitting in the backseat knowing it’d cause more problems than it was worth. Sliding into the passenger’s side front seat you crossed your hands over your chest in disdain. Could he not say a single fucking thing? This was how you knew you were in deep. You cared way too much about this little pickle you’d gotten yourself into.

This time the ride was awkwardly silent as you looked out the window. Putting your address into the GPS without saying a word. Keeping your eyes locked on the world outside you let your thoughts take control.

The silence was broken when he finally said something. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts screaming at him, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He sighed bringing your eyes over to his. You couldn’t help but to look at him. You wanted him to say something but had no idea how to respond to this.

He continued before you could say anything, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m selfish with you. I know I can’t pursue you like I want to. Trust me, I want to.” He whispered the last part out. Almost afraid to admit it out loud. As soon as he does it becomes real.

He sighed again. Frustrated the words weren’t coming easy for him. Your soft eyes broke him down even further. He knew his next words would put a final nail in the coffin, for now at least, “If you weren’t on my team, we’d be having a very different conversation Y/N. Please believe that. I’m so sorry that I’ve been selfish… done and said things I shouldn’t have. I won’t do that anymore.”

You looked away biting your cheek as hard as you needed to stop the tears from flooding out of your eyes. Why was this so difficult? Why did you have to have feelings for the one fucking man you could never have?

He frowned knowing he had hurt you yet again. It was his own fault he had to keep hurting you and it stung knowing the tears in your eyes were a result of his actions. He kept bring you right back to him and he knew it. He wanted to stop. He needed to stop knowing just how fucked up what he was doing was. Especially now that he actively realized it after you so bluntly pointed out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I’ll figure something out.” He whispered out not knowing if you really heard him. He knew saying those last words were dangerous, likely to draw you right back into him.

It dawned on him that he simply couldn’t push you away anymore. It was beginning to hurt him. It had been hurting him already, he just hadn’t realized. That’s why he was always so flirtatious and open with you, he wanted it. His stupid head just didn’t let him know it yet. Not until he knew he was the reason for your tears. For your unsureness with him. He did this to you. He had to fix it.

He needed to be around you. He had to figure this out. He knew the only option was to find you another placement, but he’d come up short. There was plenty out there but nothing good enough for your abilities. So, he had to pass, for your sake. Time was running up. JJ was due back in the next few months too.

He had no other option than to go to Strauss. He hated it knowing he’d be obligated to her, but she’d find you a good place to land. Somewhere close at his request. That was absolutely necessary. Especially now since he knew your position, the imposition.

You heard him though. Loud and clear. Giving you whiplash yet again. You weren’t sure how clearer you could be to the man yet here he was saying all the right things. The words were slowly becoming meaningless to you. He got a little nervous not hearing you reply to him. At the next red light, he looked over seeing you looking out the window with all your attention, clearly ignoring him. He’d done it now. His own indecisiveness driving you right away. He knew if he didn’t do something soon, you’d move on from him.

“Y/N.” He touched your shoulder gently.

Turning to look at him you attempted to give him an expressionless face. A frown crossed over your features instead, “Yeah?” Your usual confident voice came out as weak, squeakier than normal. You hated that he affected you so easily. So deeply.

“Did you hear me?”

You sighed, “I did.”

He had to look forward after a car honked at him. Sitting a second too long as the green light, “Please say something, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Okay.” You let out. You knew it would frustrate him, but you didn’t have any thoughts just yet. Your brain wanted to shut down instead of talking it out. You were tired of the same conversation with him. Only to be disappointed.

“Okay?” This time he let out a small, short sigh. Not in frustration at you but at himself. For being so blasé with you. Thinking he had it figured out with you but now knowing he had it so terribly wrong.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say Hotch.” You couldn’t use his first name. Not if you wanted to stop feeling this way. It’s like the two of you were so close, so damn close to figuring it out. But yet it felt nearly impossible. You were at a loss for words. Truly, had no idea what to say to the man that always seemed to be on your mind.

“I don’t want you to say anything you wouldn’t want to say Y/N. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

If he really wanted to know? Fine, “You’re so fucking confusing Hotch.” You blurted out placing your hands over your face while looking down at your feet. The car felt so small now, suffocatingly small as he pulled into your apartment complex, eyes now fully focused on you.

Nodding his head he loosened his tie, “I’m selfish and I’m sorry. I will figure this out. I promise you that.”

“Figure what out though? What is this? What are we? I can wait but I can’t wait forever.” Your eyes began welling up again. You hated that your response to any emotion seemed to be tears. Never in your life would you have imagined yourself in this situation. Crying over a

“Hey,” Gently, he placed a hand along your back hoping it’d bring you some peace, anything he could offer, “I like you beyond words Y/N. I’m sorry I’ve been too stupid to realize it. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you. You don’t know how bad I want to just say fuck it and kiss you right now but that’s not fair to you. Me saying that isn’t fair to you.”

You could hear your heart rate pick up as blood rushed throughout your entire body. He was actually torturing you now. For too long you’d had little daydreams fantasizing about the older man. What it’d be like at home, away from work, just the two of you and Jack. You’d met the little firecracker of a kid a few times over the last few months, he quickly took to you Aaron noticed. Just another reason why he liked you so much. You are a natural energy, drawing everybody in. It worked so easily on him he wasn’t surprised Jack liked you so much.

Giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I like you. I want to pursue you. I can’t until I know you have a job elsewhere.”

“A job elsewhere?” You too knew it was one of the only options, the only option. It just felt so foreign coming from his mouth. Not wanting to admit how fond you’ve grown of the team in your short tenure you dreaded having to prove yourself again to the next batch of colleagues.

He nodded, “Somewhere close. Where I’m not your boss.” His eyes searched for your as you dropped your hands. You hated to admit it but here you were, right back in his grasp, literally. The man had a strangle hold on you.

Head turning to his you leaned into his touch, “Are you sure?”

A small smile graced his face, “I should be asking you that Y/N. I don’t know what you see in me.”

Rolling your eyes, you knew the difficult part of the conversation was over. The awkward and uncomfortable air started to lift, “Shut up. You’re the whole package, Aaron.”

“I’m over fifteen years older than you.” Now it seemed Aaron was letting his insecurities out

You shrugged still so grateful he was still holding onto you, as if you’d vanish out of thin air if he let his hand go from your shoulder, “And?”

“Guys your age…”

“Guys my age suck. Remember? I’m running from one. Not so successfully.”

His smile faded quickly as he remembered exactly why he was here, “Let’s get you inside, yeah?” On high alert he hopped out of the car quickly walking to your side. Before you could be too disappointed with the loss of touch on your shoulder, he quickly wrapped you into his side. Slowing his pace down to keep up with you he kept checking his positions. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, at least not to you.

“Yeah, sure.” You replied knowing it’d drive him mad. Short answers like that pissed him off usually. But now you were using the same words you used earlier to dismiss him.

“Okay well now you’re just being difficult.” He smiled knowing you we’re playing with him. Another reason he had fallen so quickly for you. You weren’t afraid to throw it right back at him.

You bit your lip trying to stop the automatic smile that came to your face. You were being difficult, and you knew it. Catching a glimpse of you with his peripherals Hotch smiled too knowing he’d smoothed it over, at least for now.

Your phone vibrated as he locked the door behind himself. Your heart sunk as you read over

“Y/N?” You vaguely heard before handing the phone to him. He was watching you.

‘A new boyfriend, really?’

“I’m calling Garcia and that’s final. We’re done talking about it.” He didn’t yell but he definitely spoke with that Hotchner authority that scared the living hell out of nearly everybody.

The two of you had argued it out into the night and well into the morning before falling asleep on the couch, together. You’d fallen asleep first nuzzling your way right into his side. Not having the heart to move you, even after arguing back and forth for the previous four hours.

“It’s for your safety, Y/N. Please just understand that. It’s not just some silly little text anymore. This is serious.”

Letting out a sigh you nodded, “Fine.” You weren’t going to win this one. The man was seriously stubborn, even more so than you.

“Thank you.” He popped his phone out calling Garcia almost immediately. He excused himself to the other room. Finishing the oatmeal you’d made you quickly changed. He’d given the team the weekend off knowing that you’d all been on the road for the last few and needed a break.

Before too long he came back into the kitchen where you were cleaning up, “She’s looking into it, discreetly.”

You nodded, “Okay, can we got get some coffee or something? I don’t imagine you’ll let me spend this weekend alone?”

He shook his head, “No. Sorry, I know it wasn’t in your plans. My parents already picked up Jack. He’ll be there until they drop him off at school on Monday.”

“Plans change I suppose. I’m sorry you aren’t spending time with him. I know these weekends are precious.” A small pang of guilt ran through you. He was giving up his time with his boy for you. Willingly. You felt awful poor Jack. You’d taken his dad away for the weekend.

“Like you said, plans change.” He didn’t want to admit the little bit of excitement that came with the thought of spending a weekend with you even at the disappointment at his little guy.

“So, coffee?” You changed the subject back not wanting to dwell on the young boy.

He nodded, “Coffee sounds good. I’ll drive.” He went to grab your keys off the rack beating you to them.

“Don’t you need your car? And clothes?” You asked when you realized he was quite literally stranded here. It’s not like you had anything to give him to wear other than a few oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants.

“We’ll stop by my place on the way back.”

“Are we close?”

He nodded, “Relatively.”

Placing your order online the ride to the shop was uneventful. Both of you were scanning the surrounding cars for any sign of the man. It’s like he was in stealth mode.

His phone rang as he pulled in. It wasn’t like he could ignore it. He was SSA Aaron Hotchner after all. Walking inside you let him take the call from the car knowing it’d take you less than a minute to walk in and grab the order.

It should have been that quick. That was until you were cornered feeling a metallic blade press up against your hip bone. How in the fuck had he slipped past Hotch? How in the hell was he here? You smelled him instantly in that dreaded cologne.

“Y/N.” That voice you’d prayed you’d never have to hear again spoke out to you.

Trembling you knew you had to keep him distracted, “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Nice to see you, alive and well.” He chuckled knowing that’d bring you right back to the night he left you to die.

He was ignoring you. Nothing you could say or do would impact the situation at all. Looking around you cursed when the last customer left, and the barista sat on her phone. You could try and reach for your phone, but the man wasn’t stupid. He’d know exactly what you were up too. All you could do was stall now in hopes he would hurry up the call he was on.

“Can’t say the same.”

He gripped down on your arm. Oh, how you wanted to cry out in pain but you knew that’s exactly what he was looking for so you simply gave him the most blank expression you could muster. You had to psychologically beat the motherfucker. He had the physical advantage on you.

Lucky for you Hotch did wrap his call up quickly. You heard his gun click into place before you saw him out of the corner of your eye, “I’d suggest you let her go, now.”

“New boyfriends got a gun huh?”

This was your chance. If you had one, “I thought you did your research? You slipping up?” That’s all it took for him to throw you backwards into the table behind you. This got the attention of the barista whose eyes went wide seeing the confrontation and weapons out so openly. Your head knocked against the side of the table opening a new cut along the back of your skull. Sending you unconscious for a moment before your brain reset.

Aaron wanted to shoot, oh did he. But he knew his surroundings. Middle of the morning in suburbia wasn’t exactly the best place to unload a clip. So, he opted for the next best thing and tackled the inferior police officer before him knocking him down quickly sending the blade out of his grasp.

It was over before it started. You jumped to your feet not realizing your head was bleeding yet again from the man. Your head felt fuzzy as you spotted Aaron overtop your ex-fiancé handcuffing him easily enough. Aaron’s gun tucked back into his belt loop. You were so thankful that Aaron was okay.

Sirens rung out in the distance as you found a seat, head feeling heavy all over again.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked placing his hands on your head forcing your head to look at him gently.

“I’m fine. Did you get him?” You asked

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t even see him. It was Garcia. She was who I was on the phone with. Calling to warn. Fifteen seconds. Christ, are you okay?” He rambled ripping the jacket he had on placing it on the open wound.

“I’m fine Aaron. Just a little lightheaded. It’s okay. I’m okay.” You looked up at his panic-stricken face. He was obviously blaming himself for the entire predicament.

He pulled you up seeing the ambulance pull in. He wasn’t taking any chances as he found the EMT quickly, “Head wound. Loss of a lot of blood. She said she’s lightheaded.” The EMT nodded as he sat you down in the back of the rig.

“Let’s have a look. How bad does it hurt? Out of ten?”

“Like a three.” You smiled to the man as he checked you over. Pushing Aaron’s hand away as he was ready. Head wounds always looked a whole lot more traumatic than they actually were… at least that’s what you’d always been told.

“It’s okay if it hurts.” Aaron crouched down so he was level with you. Eyes scanning over your face for any discomfort.

“I’m a little offended you don’t believe me. This is only a three compared to what he’s put me through. Trust me.”

Aaron shuddered realizing just how horrifically you’d been abused by the man, “Alright, if you say so.” He knew you probably weren’t up to talking about it so he knew he likely needed to drop it.

“I say so.”

The EMT had managed to stop the bleeding enough to get a good look, “You’ll just need a butterfly bandage. No stitches. You did lose a lot of blood though. Are you able to stand?”

You smiled knowing it was almost over. Sure, he wasn’t dead, but he also wasn’t likely going to be free at the end of this all. You felt at peace knowing you could fully focus on yourself going forward and not be afraid around every turn, waiting for him to show back up.

You did manage to stand albeit a little woozy. Aaron wanted you to go to the hospital, but you knew you were fine. Maybe just needed that coffee and a nap now.

After giving statements and assuring Garcia you were both fine Aaron drove you back to your place. Assuring you that he’d be fine in your oversized clothing. He didn’t want to stop home. He just wanted you to be comfortable. He felt sick knowing what had went down could have been stopped. But he failed you.

He helped you all the way back up to your bedroom. You might’ve leaned on him a little harder than you really needed too but it was your chance and you sure as hell weren’t going to miss your opportunity. If he was going to be selfish then so were you.

“Aaron?” You asked before he walked away.

He turned looking down at you softly. So sweetly, “Yeah?”

“Can you stay? At least until I fall asleep. Then I’ll be fine.”

Smiling, he knew how much that took for you to ask, how uncomfortable it made you, “Of course. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Yeah?” You asked smiling as he slid in next to you.

“Yeah.” He waited for you to scootch up to him before he pulled you into him completely. You wanted to hate how good it felt but you couldn’t. It felt so right. So comfortable, “Sleep well.”

“Thank you, Aaron, for everything.” You yawned into his chest as you drifted off letting yourself get swallowed in his warmth.

He kept true to his word. When you opened your eyes after a few hours he was sitting there watching you.

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” He turned his body towards you, scooting down so his face was level with yours.

“Good. Really good.” You smiled over at him.

He returned your smile, feeling a little bit better at your state, “Good. I’ve been thinking. I have an idea.”

Eyes flicking over to the man you’d become so quickly infatuated with you gave him a curious look, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“So, in a few months when JJ is ready to come back. What if a communications position in ViCAP were to open up? Could even be a promotion if you know the right people.” A small smirk danced over his lips as he studied your expression softly. He knew how harsh his gaze came off if he wasn’t too careful. He didn’t want to scare you off now that you were free for the first time in years.

Eyebrows raising in shock you studied his face. He was all business though, no jokes, “Really? The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program? Isn’t that like super exclusive?”

He shrugged pulling you closer. Taking that as an invitation you softly laid your head on his chest. Almost afraid that’d he’d change his mind on you. Want nothing to do with you. Your fears were null and void as Aaron brushed the stray strand of hair out of your face, “It might be. I’m partial to you staying with the team but that would make this terribly unprofessional.” He snaked his arm around your waist bringing your body as close to his as it could be.

A stupid little blush graced your cheeks feeling the desire of being wanted from such an incredible guy, “Aaron Hotchner. Did you pull some strings for me?”

A hesitant nod confirmed your suspicions, “Maybe a little. We couldn’t lose you at the BAU. You just wouldn’t be my employee anymore.”

“Sure.” You giggled laying your head back down, “Hypothetically I would say hell yes if that were offered to me. Hypothetically though.”

He nodded, that big beautiful Hotchner smile came out, just for you, “Hypothetically, noted.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence. Aaron absentmindedly began to brush through your hair. You hadn’t a clue how touchy the man really was, but you certainly weren’t complaining. You hummed feeling lulled by the steady motion of his hand, “Keep that up and I’m going to fall right back asleep.”

You felt the gentle chuckle that came from his chest, “That’s alright. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You smiled feeling all the love emitting from the man you liked far too much, far too quickly, “Wait, he’s in jail. I don’t really need to be staying here anymore.” You opened your eyes fearfully. A little pissed at yourself for bringing that up.

An immediate frown formed as he processed what you said, “I’ll stay as long as you need me. As long as you want me.”

“Thank you Aaron.” Watching him he nodded as he watched you. The two of you simply studying the other. One profiler and one wannabe profiler studying the situation.

“I’d do it again for you.”

You were at a loss for words. This was the Aaron you adored. The one who wasn’t afraid to tell the truth. To get uncomfortable with you as you learned the other. It was the beginning of something wonderful and he was diving headfirst into it. But he was making sure you were ready before pulling you in with him. He didn’t want you to drown.

“I like you so much Aaron.” You admitted, “Far too much. These last few months have been some of my favorite yet. And you were only my boss. My friend.” You let out the breath that you’d been holding in. His softness, the closeness, his smell all overwhelmed you into admitting it.

A soft hand pulled your face to look back at his, “I like you far more than I should as well. We’ve got to keep this quiet for a few months. Then I’m taking you on the best date you’ve ever been on.”

You smiled brightly relieved that he was feeling the exact same way, “Yeah?”

“If you want, that is.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s great!” You grinned laying your head right backdown on his chest.

He nodded smiling just as widely as you, “It’s a date then.”

“It’s a date.”

Taglist: @senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy @rousethemouse @idkkkwhy @wonderinglostsoul @comfortzonequeen @dankfarrick29 @fictionalwhorehouse @somekindacrackhead

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drewsbuzzcut · 6 months

Note

a blurb of Dallas trying to make nick break nnn?

The Breaking Point

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic

warnings: underage drinking, almost fight, being inebriated, minor angst, smut!!

This was a blurb request, but I just ran with the idea and now it’s over 3k words!

During the process of Dallas picking her outfit ahead of the frat party she is attending with Nick, she makes sure to bring her A game. She picks out her shortest skirt and the sexiest top that will still keep her warm, but one she doesn’t need a bra for. She’s locked and loaded, waiting for the perfect time to tease Nick until he caves. She is beyond tired of Nick conforming into the bizarre challenge that is no nut november. Supposedly there is a bet going with the rest of his teammates, but Dallas thinks she will go crazy if he doesn’t touch her. That’s another thing, because of her incessant teasing and attempts to get him to break, her boyfriend has been dodging her. Today is the first day in a week that they will be spending more than an hour together.

She lets herself into his room, fixing her lipstick through the camera of her phone when Nick finds her. He has to contain himself from pinning her to his bed, too much pent up sexual tension filling his senses. When Dallas notices him in the corner of her eye, she jumps off the bed to make her way to him.

“Hi, baby. You look so handsome. You smell good, too,” she whispers, arms wrapped around his waist as her lips press soft pecks on his jaw and lips.

He paws at her sides, his hands feeling the soft material of her sheer, black long sleeve. His eyes take in her light makeup and dark red lipstick that he loves so much. His eyes start to wander down, taking in her tiny skirt before quickly going back up. He just realized she isn’t wearing a bra, her nipples tight and visible through her top. He goes back down to her black skirt and bare legs. Her skin is soft as he lets his hands cop a feel. His eyes go back and forth for a little bit before he clears his throats.

“You look beautiful, June bug. I missed you this week,” he mutters against her temple.

Dallas holds back her scoff and smart remark. How dare he say he misses her when he’s been the one staying away. Whatever, she’s going to put it aside for now.

“Thank you, Nicky. I was thinking, for tonight I can be the dd so you can drink all you want. You’ve had a long week, you should let loose,” she suggests, twisting some of his hair in her fingers.

She subtly leans her body into his, his hands going to the small of her back. He’s missed his girl, truly.

“Are you sure? I want you to have fun.”

“Don’t worry, Nicky baby, I will have fun,” she states, kissing his lips in a way that brings him to his knees.

“God, you look sexy. This skirt, to die for. If you get cold, everyone will see your nipples,” he growls, nosing at her neck and leaving small love bites in his wake.

“Good thing you’re the only one who can touch me,” she sighs, bringing his hand up to cup her boobs.

“You’re a minx, and as much I want to suck your pretty little nipples into my mouth, we need to head out already. Only a week and a half until I can have you,” he whispers in her ear.

Again, she has to resist the scoff wanting to leave her mouth. Here she is thinking that her outfit would be enough, but no. She has to commence plan b.

“Let’s head out then,” she says, piquing Nick’s interest because it has became rare for her to not berate him for partaking in no nut november.

At the party, the couple split up, Dallas waving him off to go have fun while Dallas goes to dance with her girl friends. Every now and then Dallas will steal a glance of Nick, seeing him laugh and drink while talking to his buddies. It’s actually really nice to see him relaxed.

The girl makes her way to him, weaving between the group of guys he’s with. Nick pulls her body into his, hands settling on her hips.

“Hey, Dallas. Want a drink?” Rutger asks.

“Sorry, I’m sober tonight. Promised Nicky here that I’d drive back so he can have fun,” she explains, giggling at his over dramatic pout.

“What about you, D? Shouldn’t you be having fun, too?” Luca says, playfully shoving at Nick.

“I am having fun, for your information. Plus, I came over here to steal my boyfriend, so if you’ll excuse us,” she says, laughing when everyone starts whistling and hollering at them.

She drags her boyfriend to a hidden corner of a room that barely has people in it, not that they’d be paying attention to them anyways. Nick softly pins her to the wall behind her, not wanting anyone to see his hands go up her skirt. Dallas pushes her tongue into his mouth, feeling content when she can feel the thrum of his moan. As his hands go up her skirt, he starts squeezing the soft flesh of her ass. The girl can feel the longing and lust start to bubble in her stomach, her tongue going deeper into his mouth as her hands end up under his shirt. Pulling away first, Nick’s lips chase after hers, drawing a seductive laugh from the girl. Her lips start to kiss on his neck, her hands moving up his chest in the same pace. With every nip and suck at his neck, her fingernails dig into his skin. His low moans only spur her on further.

She lifts her leg to wrap it around his waist, and even though he’s wearing jeans, he can feel the heat of her pussy- especially when she starts to rub against him. He pushes on her hips to pin her back into the wall. Thumbing at her nipples, her head leans back and Nick takes the opportunity to kiss at her neck. He goes straight for her sweet spot. Dallas swears she could orgasm just from his attention alone. Her hands go under the back of his shirt, a zap of electricity going through her fingertips when his muscles flex under his skin. Her hands don’t stay too long in their spot- they soon start to palm the front of his jeans. She can feel him harden behind the zipper which makes her that more confident with what she’s about to do.

The girl connects her lips back to his, this time it’s his tongue coming to tangle with hers. Dallas subtly reaches under her skirt, pulling her panties down her legs- Nick would notice if he wasn’t too busy sucking on her tongue. It’s when she shoves the dainty material in his front pocket, he pulls away and gives her a confused frown before he pulls out her panties from his pocket. She has a devilish smirk on her face as he holds up the undergarment in between his two fingers.

“C’mon, we should head back before someone comes looking for us,” she whispers out of breath.

“What about these?” He asks, dangling her underwear.

“Keep them,” she says, giving him one last kiss before she’s pulling him back to the crowded room.

“Stay with me,” he whispers against her temple when she moves to go back to her friends.

“My friends are waiting for me. You stay with the boys. I’ll see you later, or when you let me know you’re ready to go,” she pecks his jaw, walking away leaving him wanting more.

The rest of the time, Nick is sporting an uncomfortable hard on and watches Dallas from where she is with her friends. He’s barely holding himself together and he wants desperately to take her home. She spots him and flashes a smile, continuing talking with her friends when a guy walks up to her. Nick watches as the animatedly talk and laugh together. As time passes, the guy is still lingering vying for Dallas’ attention- even when she’s to busy looking over at Nick while he and the guys shotgun beers.

It just so happens that the next time Nick looks in his girlfriend’s direction, she and that guy are posing for a photo. The guy has his arm over her shoulders and she smiles next to him. Nick loses his shit when he sees the guy lean down to whisper in her ear. Nick charges towards them, ripping the guy’s arm away from Dallas and pushing at his chest.

“Nick!” Dallas gasps, shocked at the way her boyfriend is acting.

“Back the fuck away from her,” Nick says although his words are slurred.

“We’re just talking, nothing more,” the guy claims.

“You had your fucking hands on her,” Nick responds, moving towards the guy again.

“We were taking a picture. We’re friends, you know? If you’re that worried about June, maybe you shouldn’t leave your girlfriend by herself,” the guys say with a cocky tone.

“Don’t call me June,” Dallas warns him. It’s not that she wouldn’t let anyone call her that because of Nick, it’s because she didn’t like to be called that by anyone besides Nick. There’s a big difference.

“Fuck you! She’s my girlfriend and only I can call her June,” Nick shouts, pushing at the guy once again.

Before Nick or the other guy can throw a swing, Luca and Rutger come hauling ass, pulling Nick away from the other guy. They all end up outside on the front lawn.

“Dude you need to calm down. You’ve been drinking and you need to go home,” Rutger says to the angered boy.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Dallas shouts at Nick.

The hockey player is at a loss for words, not having ever heard his girl scream like that.

“Why are you trying to start fights? I thought you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your spot on the hockey team?” She berates him, but Nick feels like she’s taking the other guy’s side.

“Because of you!” Nick shouts back.

Dallas mouth closes, forgetting what she was about to say as her shoulder sag. She can’t believe he’s blaming this one her. It’s hurts.

“How could you just let him be all over you?”

“It wasn’t like that. You know I wouldn’t do that to you,” she mutters.

He shakes his head, his eyes red and Dallas doesn’t know if it’s because of the alcohol or tears.

“He was still all over you,” Nick brings up the guy again.

“My boyfriend, who’d rather be part of a pointless challenge, than touch me is mad. Mad that I was hanging out with some other guy. He’s just a friend and we were taking a damn picture! Let’s talk about how you’ve been ignoring me because you can’t have sex with me, or you’ll lose this damn challenge. How did I end up being the bad guy?” Dallas is practically in tears. Her whole face is red and her voice is starting to grow hoarse.

“You should be supporting me!” Nick has the audacity to say. His arms flail at his sides as if he’s so surprised that his girlfriend isn’t supporting this immature challenge.

“It’s a bullshit challenge! I’m the one feeling neglected and like you don’t even want me anymore, yet you want me to support you. Fuck off! And you know what, find your own damn way home!” She yelled, discreetly wiping away a few tears. She’s angry and wants him all at the same time, but she leaves without him. However, before she leaves, she makes sure Luca- who is sober- can take him home. She’d never put him at risk.

The next morning Dallas wakes up to a soft knock on her front door. She waits a couple minutes in bed, her head pounding from last night’s crying session. When she finally opens her door she comes face to face with Nick who wears a worried and saddened expression. She can see the darkness around his eyes and the way his lips are chapped. He clearly didn’t have no one to get him water last night. She feels bad, being that she’s usually the one nursing his hangover. He’s holding a takeout bag and a separate bag with Red Bulls, because he knows that she prefers that over coffee. Dallas moves to the side, allowing him to enter the door.

“Dallas, I’m sorry. Shit, I have been such a terrible boyfriend to you. I can’t take back what I did, but I am sorry. I brought you breakfast and an energy drink. I’m gonna head out, but I just needed to tell you that I’m sorry,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his wrist getting caught in his girl’s hand before he could walk away.

“Don’t call me Dallas ever again and don’t ever try to start a fight when you’re drunk. You have a lot of important things you can lose,” she whispers, her forehead resting on his collarbones.

“I know and I don’t ever want to lose you,” he admits, truthfully.

Dallas hides her shy smile, her hands rubbing up and down his back.

“I was talking about hockey.”

“You’re more important than hockey. I think I’d be able to live without hockey, but I know I wouldn’t be able to live without you,” he says.

“I’m sorry for flipping out on you. I was acting a little crazy,” she giggles, kissing his cheek.

“I deserved it.”

“Why didn’t you get yourself breakfast? Did you drink water last night?”

“Didn’t feel like eating and no. I didn’t even sleep,” he picks her up and lays them on her bed.

“Don’t do that to yourself. Now you have to stay here and nap with me. I’ll eat my food later.”

Dallas throws a leg over his waist, her hand caressing his cheek and she finally gives him a kiss on the lips.

“I want you,” is whispered against her lips, Nick’s lips trailing down her neck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He flips them over, Dallas on her back with him on his side but facing her. He pulls her lip between his, sucking a nipping at her. His fingers trace her collarbone, chills forming on Dallas’ skin as her breathing starts to get heavier. His hand trails down, pausing to massage her boobs then continuing down to her heat. He softly pulls her panties to the side- two fingers spreading her open and collecting her arousal. When he sinks his two fingers into her, her hips shoot off the bed, not having felt such pleasure in a while.

His thick fingers continue to push at her sensitive spot, spending waves of fire throughout her body. She tightens around him, hips softly and slowly bucking up to meet his thrusts. Everything starts to get hazy when she feels her orgasm crash down on her. Nick’s fingers wet and glistening. He brings his hand up to her lips, watching as she takes them into her mouth. If he wasn’t hard already, twirling her tongue around his digits would’ve done the trick. He pulls away, moving to be in between her legs. He kisses her like he’s trying to breathe her air. A soft moan bubbles in his throat when he gets a taste of her off her tongue. Pulling away once more, he rips off all his clothing before he’s pulling off her cami and ripping apart her panties.

“I missed you, missed you touching me,” she confesses.

His lips go back to hers, tugging on her bottom lip when her hands start to scratch at his back. She can feel his swollen, red tip poke at her entrance. Nick starts to kiss down her neck, sucking and flicking his tongue against her sweet spot. Her hands reach out to connect at his back just as her hips shoot off the bed, searching for any ounce of friction. Moving further down her body, his lips start to smatter kisses all over her chest until he finally decides to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Dallas can feel her body tingling each time his tongue laps at her or when his teeth gently tug on her nipple. He can feel the vibrations of her every moan rattling in her chest.

He grabs ahold of his cock, stroking himself before he’s gliding through her folds.

“Don’t tease me,” Dallas groans, her body wanting to arch up into his due to her lack of patience.

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he says, head and shoulders sagging in disappointment.

“Screw the condom. We’re both clean and I want to feel all of you, please,” she begs, her hands pulling his body closer to hers.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He finally thrusts inside of her, Dallas letting out a deafening moan at the way he stretches her. His pace is slow to begin with, letting Dallas get used to his width as he can still feel her clench around him. Dallas can feel herself grow wetter whenever Nick starts to roll his hips into hers, his fingers tracing the slight outline of his cock that appears in her lower abdomen. Her heat contracts around his length just at his soft touch.

“You see that, baby? That’s me fucking you so deep that you can feel me in your stomach,” he whispers in her ear, sucking her earlobe in between his lips.

“You’re mine, body and soul,” he whispers into her skin.

“And you’re mine. Mine, mine, only mine,” she chants, her body buzzing.

Dallas moans, her hands splaying over his entire back, her nails starting to dig deeper into his skin. She looks down, watching the way he sinks into her. The absurd sounds of her sopping pussy whenever he plunges into her, and the sight of her wetness collecting at the base of his cock. It’s enough to douse her in ecstasy. She feels like he’s touching every single one of her nerve endings.

The way his mushroomed tip catches onto each ridge of her slick walls, stimulating the muscles with each drag of his hips.

“Nicky, harder. Fuck me harder,” she begs in her raspy voice.

He moves his hands to her hips, lifting them off the bed as he starts drilling into her. Her mouth falls open, silent moans sitting at the seam of her lips. His tip repeatedly nudges her spongy spot until Dallas’ vision starts to blur. Her walls flutter around him and the knot in her stomach tightens. She starts to move her hips, meeting Nick thrust for thrust.

“Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructs her, her hips still in his hands.

She bucks her hips up, her tight cunt sucking him in deeper. Nick grunts, feeling his orgasm start to seep into his bones. His pace speeds up, his hips pounding into her as she arches her back, head tilted back and hands fisting the sheets. She writhes around as sweet whimpers and mewls claw their way out of her throat.

She can feel the veins of his cock pulse inside of her. Her walls throb in reaction. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as the knot in her stomach unwinds, her body stiffening as she cums around him. Her body jumps when his finger circles her clit, his hips still moving as he fucks her through her orgasm.

Nick feels the familiar heated coil collapse, tipping him over the edge as he pulls out and jerks himself until his cum is landing on his girl’s stomach. Dallas reaches out for him, pulling his body on top of hers as they lay there boneless. She can feel his body shake even as they make out like horny teenagers.

“Wow,” she chuckles, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed that hard before. That was intense. Are you feeling okay?” He brushes some of her hair away from her face, nuzzling his nose into her cheek.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. How are you feeling? You’re still trembling,” she cards her fingers through his hair, pecking wherever she can reach on his face.

“I feel sleepy and content. You did so good,” he kisses her lips.

“Thank you for not going through with your no nut november,” she giggles, her body melting into the mattress and Nick following.

“I’d do anything for you, June bug,” he says, eyes shutting and his breaths evening out.

Dallas smiles, finally feeling satiated. Yeah, she’d do anything for him, too.

a/n: This was fun and hard to write, so I hope y’all enjoy it!!!

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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dadsbongos · 3 months

Text

The Lovers

word count - 4.8 k

warnings - ENEMIES to lovers..., non-graphic deaths and violence, i humanize and objectify pav in the same breath, fem reader (referred to by "girl" bc he's the worst)

first time capitalizing a fic title in months

DAY 2. NOON.

Blood splotches decorate the cobblestone floor, already drying into maroon against the wood planks of the train cars. The droplets lighten in shade the deeper into the train you go, and eventually, you find crimson. Pure cherry ink on dark wood. Cherry rots into a blackened smudge once again on the wheel of Olivia’s wheelchair. One hand settled over the thin black rim on her right, and the other twisting a roll of bandages around her fingers. She blinks up at you, bottom lip tucked so tight between her teeth that the rosy flesh is blistering white.

“I’m really sorry,” she sighs, abandoning the spool of cloth in her lap to push up her wiry glasses, “Terribly, I am, but I don’t- “ she pauses, “I’m worried that the others would be… biased in their care…”

Your gaze flits up from Olivia’s pensive face to the blonde man spread across the train’s cushy two-seater. His midsection is wrapped with reddish blooms vining all down the white crossings, arm bound in a sling over his chest. His eyes are scrunched up, brows furrowed towards the middle of his forehead; a fitful, delirious limbo overtaking him. Occasionally, he jerks himself awake in a wide-eyed panic before the pain knocks his brain topside again.

The Bremen lieutenant would hardly be a challenge to put down in his current state. You are one of few from the contestants that Olivia feels can be trusted not to undo her hard work of keeping the soldier alive. Combine your level-headedness with your lackadaisical attitude in searching Prehevil, and you make the perfect candidate to watch over Olivia’s patient.

Unfortunately.

“If he annoys me, can I press on his wounds?”

A wild grimace overtakes Olivia’s face, “No! No, please, please do not do that.”

“Fine,” you waltz past Olivia and study the blonde’s pinched face, “Go, go. I’ll watch the traitor.”

“Thank you!” she sighs in relief before exiting the train car, calling back hurriedly, “I’ll try to come with more bandages before sundown!”

When the lieutenant is not trapped under the rolling, ruthless waves of agony, you could almost mistake him for any other man. Maybe even a handsome one: with a strong nose and symmetrical bone structure. His lips are faintly the color of roses, too. Pale and pink. Dry, though. Not nearly as luscious as pretty petals.

Golden tresses, which you are mature enough to admit are alluring. His hat was off and his hair ruffled and fanning out over the magenta seat. Skin frail and pale - you could crush his ribs if you tried. Charming in a way you’ve only known real men to be.

Certainly, though, as soon as the pig squeals - the illusion of perky flowers and honey will melt away. Scorched by the moon as the villagers outside.

Foolishly, you agree to sit around waiting for the swine to be well enough to squeal. A smarter woman would’ve put it down (especially when it's previously shown a taste for blood), but you like Olivia and her tender heart so you do no such thing.

DAY 2. NIGHT.

As thanks for not murdering Pavel as soon as she’d turned her back, Olivia brought you fresh water and dried meats from scavenged homes alongside the fresh bandages. She left again soon after swapping the bloodied cloth for fresh ones.

“Do tell me when he wakes up,” she grins up at you. As if apologetic for having you carry out a duty you’d already agreed to, “I’m sure this isn’t an easy ask. I’m sorry.”

“If I wanted to make you feel bad for asking, I wouldn’t have said yes,” you wave off the concern, “Don’t die out there, Olivia. I’d miss you too much to do my job,” you gesture vaguely towards the immobile lieutenant.

She chuckles quietly before nodding, “I’ll do my best.”

Pavel’s groans are increasing both in frequency and throatiness - he’ll wake soon, you’re sure of it. He even turns onto his side, exhaling thickly - so harsh and ragged he actually coughs up bubbles of spit. Jittering with alert, he gasps sharply and rockets upward. Snapping at his waist and swiping out wildly with his unbound arm, clawing at the musty air directly in front of him; even attempting to swing out the arm wrapped and tied around his neck.

As soon as the hair-splittingly thin burst of adrenaline fades, he hisses in pain. Cupping the covered gash in his chest before curling his uninjured arm around the other, he throws his head back and gasps again. Suffocating under the re-stretching of closing wounds and fragile muscle.

Despite his uniform, you find yourself at Pavel’s side. You brush a hand down the length of his spine before patting between his shoulder blades, your other hand soothing down his navel to press him down into the cushions. Swiping aside curls of gold, you shush his groaning and search the care bag Olivia left behind. In your palm comes a bind of tobacco and a pipe that is smooth and cold against your skin.

“Quiet, quiet,” you coo, stuffing the chamber of the pipe with the almost sickly sweet, nutty-scented tobacco before raising Pavel’s head and sitting the lip into his mouth.

His eyes are still wrinkled shut, chest beginning to sporadically pop and shrink in a struggle to suck wind through his throat.

Part of you wants to tug his hair and call him stupid, but a larger part of you is consumed with pity. Pity for a creature so entrapped with torment that he cannot remember the second most basic function of his body.

“Breathe through your nose,” you continue to run your fingers through his sweat-matted hair while striking a match against the train’s floorboards and lighting the tobacco, “Smoke slow. It will ease you.”

Pavel’s neck cranes upward and remains there, head pushing against your stroking hand as he (rather noisily) inhales through his nostrils. Then, he fills his lungs with the sting of tobacco, blowing it back out through the pursed corner of his mouth.

Once you’re confident Pavel can breathe and smoke without choking himself to death, you turn again to rattle through Olivia’s care bag for herbs. Anything to aid the physical pain before the distraction of tobacco wears off.

Eyes fluttering open, Pavel stares down at you as he lifts an arm to pull the pipe from his mouth - blowing smoke down into your face. You pinch the exposed skin of his side harshly, only letting go when he jerkily arches his back to escape your cruel fingers.

“Unbelievable,” you shake your head, “No. A Bremen pig would, of course, disrespect someone trying to heal them.”

“If you wanted me dead, I already would be.”

“I still have time.”

You unplug a glass vial the shade of elderberries and press it to Pavel’s closed lips. When he stubbornly fastens his lips tighter, you glare directly into his eyes.

“Open. Or it’s being poured over your neck.”

Pavel groans in protest, but finally opens his mouth and allows you to dump the blue liquid into his throat. He gags at the bitterness of raw, untempered pressed herbs, almost gagging until he realizes you have no intention of stopping your pour. So he chooses to swallow down the vial as quickly as it comes instead of drowning to a mere glass of blue.

When you’re tucking the emptied glass away, Pavel replaces the pipe and huffs down at you, “You’re not a very courteous nurse.”

Instead of dignifying the jab with a response, you sit up fully on your knees to scour over the lieutenant below. From his tousled hair to his bloodied and wretched uniform to his muddied boots.

You reach up and contemplate digging a thumb somewhere in the center of his bandages before thinking better of it and snatching the pipe from his lips, “You should put away your breasts.”

Inhaling the smoke, you blow it down in Pavel’s annoyed face and grin when he coughs.

He glares up at you somehow harsher than before, “I could shoot you for that. I should shoot you for that.”

“Then who would protect you from all the other people that want you dead?”

Silently, he mulls over the question. If he reaches some sort of logical conclusion, he refuses to share. Most likely, though, you’re assuming he has no such answer. Aside from you, there is Olivia, but even she could not be swayed into staying on this train longer than necessary. It could drive one mad, bound inside this narrow tube of car after car after car with the same seats and floorboards and rolling rug. So she very politely requested you to stay behind instead.

You sit down on the hard floor below you, pulling your knees to your chest and winding both arms around your legs. Pavel turns his head to the side, lips in a pout. Drinking the blue liquid earlier has revived them, at least somewhat, they are even pinker. More full. Smoother. When you’ve had enough staring there, you stare at his eyes: so gray they shine like gun metal in the flitting moonlight.

Maybe Pavel would notice you examining him if he could tear his own eyes away from where they’re lingering by the sliver of exposed skin by your ankle. Classic: boarish pig lives up to his name. His gaze crawls up your shin to your bent knees, then a little lower as if to catch a glimpse of where your thighs and rear are squished against your chest and the floor (respectively). At least you have the decency to not objectify him during your observation - not that you even could. The lieutenant is leagues more off-putting than handsome.

Once he’s gathered the guts to bore his steely gaze into your face, he grins with a half-hearted shrug, “I haven’t seen a beautiful woman not kissing the piss lord’s ass in ages.”

You ignore the pass completely, “So, the temple square?”

Pavel sighs and extends a hand, palm up and fingers splayed wide in front of your face, “A failure.”

“You don’t say,” you bypass his hand and feed the lip of the pipe directly into his mouth, pressing it against his tongue and watching him firmly tuck it between his lips before letting go, “Why try?”

Puffing from the pipe, Pavel only shakes his head while exhaling thick plumes of slate-hued smoke. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and cradles the pipe in his hand, turning it delicately to inspect the body, “Why not?”

You make a show of looking from his face to his bandaged torso before snickering, “Serious question?”

Pavel takes one final draw of the pipe before balancing it atop the wooden frame of the seat. He lays his uninjured hand gently over his torso, blinking up at the ceiling with tired, wet eyes.

“You are cruel, you know this?”

“It’s a good defense,” you grin at the man innocently, “Especially against brutalist pigwhores.”

“Targeted,” again, he pouts, “Mean. You are a mean girl.”

“Maybe that’s what you need. I think Mama was too nice to you.”

Pavel withholds the wince at your words, merely pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth and inhaling through his nose sharply. He shrugs when he really wants to bite, “You think so?”

Hopefully, he muses, he can rip out your throat when he finally snaps back.

“I do.”

“You know what I think?” you merely fold your arms, so he continues, “Nobody put the spoiled girl in her place. Now she’s a confident woman full of hot air,” he smiles, “I don’t do well with confident women like that. Make me jumpy.”

You ‘hmph’, but respond with nothing new before rising from the floor and snatching the care bag to squeeze against your chest like a child would their stuffed bear. Laying across the unoccupied, opposite seat, you turn so that you're faced away from the lieutenant.

Pavel stares at your back. He hadn’t been entirely teasing earlier - he truly hadn’t found a woman beautiful in a long while. Not that it was a problem to admit a girl was pretty, but there was always some dull ache to accompany the thought. Women riveted by his status in the Bremen army disgusted him, and women disgusted by him and his status were usually unwilling to bend to his charms. Even then, if he met a woman who was nurturing and sweet, undeterred by his enlistment, he was consumed with revenge.

Now that he’s officially gone and tried and horrendously failed, he can at least swim in the delusion that there is a chance for romance. Besides, he is in his thirties, that’s about the time when people begin settling down, right?

He reaches up for the pipe but finds that it’s gone out. No more vermillion embers to offer comfort.

“Oi,” he calls into the night. Not even crickets sing back. He shifts as if to sit up, but his entire waist flares with pain and sends him crashing back into the velvet cushions. So, he settles on raising his voice, “Hey!”

“Sleep, pig.”

“Pav.”

“Hm?”

“My name. My name is Pav,” he considers throwing the pipe at you altogether, but if the gold-encrusted bowl actually hits your skull then you’d likely leave and never return, “Call me by it.”

“Why should I?” you twist, scowling over your shoulder, “You signed up for the Bremen army, now take what comes with that in Prehevil.”

“You don’t strike me as a dull girl,” he grumbles, “So don’t pretend to be one.”

Suddenly, you’re sitting up again, the bag still clenched between both of your arms, “Do you know what the Bremen army has done to people? Has done to me?” you spit on the floor, right below where Pav rests, “Pigs! Horrible, wretched, rotten pigs!”

Pavel allows you to scream, allows you to finish, before returning, “Do you know what the Bremen army has done to me?”

He’s so quiet, he’s downright whispering. Voice husky and layered with years of buried terror and bloodlust.

“How should I care? You enlisted! Whatever they made you- !”

Now he cuts you off.

“They razed my home during the First Great War,” that once blinding sheen in gunmetal eyes is dark like obsidian, “My family. My mama,” he mocks you, “Dead. I joined to kill the Kaiser, I never wanted to be a Bremen pig. I never asked for this.”

“You came to kill the Kaiser as a lieutenant?”

“I did.”

“You must’ve known…” you swallow your words. A lieutenant to kill the commander? Even without the Kaiser’s other soldiers, Pavel wouldn’t possibly have been able to do that and get away with it. Not unless he wanted to hide out in Prehevil for the rest of his days.

“At least I will never die knowing I didn’t try,” he cackles sickly, “Great leader Kaiser spat the bullet out like it was nothing… Maybe he is some God sent back to torture us.”

“Maybe you missed,” you slump forward, elbows digging into your knees, “Couldn’t that be more likely?”

“No,” he looks at you with widened eyes, “No, no,” he shakes his head, “I don’t miss my shots.”

“If you’re sure,” you smile suddenly, shaking loose the stiffness in Pavel’s shoulders, “When you’re healed, we can try again, hm?”

“Really?” he’s shocked by the madness of your suggestion, “Did you miss the part where I said he took a bullet to the head and walked it off?”

“Apparently, we’ll die here anyway,” you shrug, yawning and fluttering back down onto the seat, “So, why not try again, Pav?”

A girl that nurtures despite his bloody uniform, and now despite his terrible need for revenge. You are as cruel as you are doting. Fiery and unfair and oh, he thinks he wants you to card your fingers in his hair again. Gentle only to him.

“As long as you don’t abandon me once you see for yourself,” Pavel can feel less burning in his chest when he breathes now, “Spat the bullet right out, I tell you.”

You shrug, “I guess I’ll die one way or another here.”

Pavel shakes his head, not bothering to tilt his head away from you as he drifts off.

…

DAY 3. MORNING.

He awakes to a great pressure around his throat. Snapping into consciousness, he finds you standing over him with shaking arms, and when he’s brave enough to follow the branches to where they’re stemmed - your hands are around his neck. Your breathing is shaky, and there’s wetness reflecting off your cheeks. Pavel claws at your wrists with his hand, twisting his body so his bottom half is hanging off the seat. Ignoring the scorching rage that sears over the fresh gash in his stomach, Pavel kicks out at you. His heeled boots dig into your gut, squishing intestines and fat and blood as he pushes you away.

Loudly, his boots thunk back against the floorboard when you’ve fallen away, throwing yourself dramatically across the opposite seat. Like a sick Europian lady from the Gilded Age, you drape over the frame with sniveling wails.

Pavel skims his fingers over where your own were clamping his throat shut as he shudders for breath. Ignoring your sobs, he shouts, “Did you hit your head or what?! Heal me, talk to me, just to end my life?! Are you- ?!”

“Enough!” you scream, voice snapping raw in the middle, completely fizzled out at the end. Wiping at the ceaseless tears gushing over your face, you scream again, “She should’ve gotten out of here! She should’ve gotten out and ran instead of… Instead of…” you cough out phlegm and despair trapped in your throat, “Instead of…”

Marina’s downcast face, moles decorating her frown as she twisted a cracked pair of Windsor glasses between her hands. She could barely look at you when she said it before handing over the glasses. I’m sorry, Marina whispered, Olivia… I just thought, maybe, you should know…

Pavel remains as he is, lumped against the back of the seat with both legs dangling onto the floor. Dried blood scraped up under his heels. He heaves for breath, watching as you cradle yourself in your arms and rock. You wither before him, babbling and wheezing and shrouded in shadow.

“What are you going on about?”

“Be quiet,” you snap, louring through puffy, red eyes and wobbly lips, “Be mournful. The woman that saved your life has died,” before Pavel can squeeze anything out from his gaping mouth, you stand and point down at him to command again, “Be nice. The war is over, and you’re not even a real lieutenant, you can show kindness when a person has died.”

He shuts his mouth. Opens it again. Shuts it. Then, finally,

“I didn’t know her.”

From the way you cross your arms and turn away, he can gather that that was the wrong thing to say.

“And yet she saved you,” your arms tighten around yourself, “She saved you, Pav… Be nice.”

You’re a sweet thing, Pavel thinks. You clearly hate him for not displaying the tenderness that you are around the woman’s death. At least at this moment, you hate him.

“I’m taking a walk,” you announce, flinging open the cabin door and slamming it behind you.

Pavel contemplates calling after you, but figures the sound of his voice could only make you stay away longer.

You’re a cruel, sweet thing.

Not even leaving the care bag closer for him to reach in and take from.

DAY 3. NOON.

When you return, the train car is silent sans the gentle hum of Pavel’s breathing. Almost reminiscent of clockwork, a well-oiled machine, his broad chest rises and falls smoothly as he’s rearranged himself sideways on the seat. With his slung arm over his chest and spare one tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow.

Having Pavel stretched out before you gives ample time for you to more thoroughly judge his physique - if you’d be able to strangle him while he’s awake. If he could fight back. If he could lift you with his pure muscle and restrain you with a single hand while the other…

Maybe, you think.

His arms are large, but not obnoxiously terrifying like the boxer. His waist is slim despite the broadness of his shoulders and chest.

Suddenly, he groans, nose twitching in his slumber. It draws your gaze up to his face. That unsettlingly symmetrical face with the strong nose bridge and soft, rosy lips.

Not to mention his flaxen hair - curled and tousled and forcefully in your sights with that Bremen hat off. And with his Bremen uniform (seemingly always) unbuttoned to his stomach, you make out his pectorals past his bandages. You make out two indentations over his heart: silvery scars.

He could almost be handsome. If he were more emotionally attuned.

You kneel by his side, swinging the care bag across the aisle and into your lap. His bleeding has visibly lessened, as only the lightest shade of pink has spread over the pale cloth. Sneaking scissors up by his soft skin, you avoid slicing him as you snip the bandages and begin unwinding them. Pulling gently so as to avoid waking the man, you successfully clear him from the restrictive cloth and assess his healing wound.

More coral pink than crimson red, now. You assume the mass improvement is thanks to the blue vial Olivia had provided. Even as the gnarly cut expands under Pavel’s breathing, it fails to start bleeding again. Which you’re grateful for since, as a precarious glance into the bag confirms, you have freshly run out of bandages. And you fear that snagging any old cloth from any old barrel could give Pavel an infection.

“What was it Alll-mer said? Pluck out your eyes if you cannot respect modesty?”

“I’m checking your wound,” you pinch his side. The skin is warm and fleshy and so, so soft between your fingertips. He whimpers and tries to evade your hand by squirming higher on the seat, “When did you wake up?”

“Not long ago,” he watches you reach into the bag and pull free another glass vial of blue liquid, “Only to see you ogling my body.”

“It’s a hideous one. Hard to look away.”

“You love to lie, mean girl?” he ‘tsk’s, “Shame. Lies are so ugly from a pretty mouth.”

“As if you would know.”

“Confident woman,” he sings to himself, grinning, “Confident, confident woman.”

Shoving the blue vial towards Pavel’s face, you square your shoulders and settle your face sternly, “Drink.”

“I liked it when you did it for me,” he opens his mouth then, refusing to break eye contact.

You comply, shifting onto your knees and pressing the chilled glass against Pavel’s lower lip; tipping it to flow into his warm mouth. He gulps down what you graciously offer, bringing his uninjured arm out from under his head and settling it over your hand around the vial. His thumb presses against your knuckles. You tangle your other hand into his hair and let the golden curls thread over your fingers. Once the vial is finished, you can’t explain it but there’s a sudden thundering in your chest. So vivid and hard in your ribs that it makes you nauseous.

Pavel blinks, lashes fluttering at you as his hand remains over yours.

Sunshine slants across his face. You see him more clearly now than this morning or last night or when he was wrought and warped with pain.

He looks pretty like this. Foul-mouthed and promiscuous and even forthright rude, but undoubtedly pretty.

His hand moves to your cheek, tenderly cupping the flesh with glass still pressed to his lips.

The thunder comes with lightning that strikes blazing fire. Heat fans through your chest and up to your forehead.

“If you want to go after the Kaiser, you should rest,” you whisper, as if speaking any louder could shatter the both of you from this moment, “We both should. Best to gather our strength before searching for him.”

Pavel shakes his head, obsessively smoothing the pad of his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “He will gut us both, cruel girl. I don’t want to see that for you. If I find him it’s alone,” he swallows thickly, “And I’m tired.”

“So,” you realize with a startled tremble that your internal combustion is affection for the former lieutenant, “you’ll stay?”

And with greater terror, you realize that you actually want to stay with him.

“I will die knowing I failed,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pressing his lips firmly before granting you sight of the rosy flesh again, “but I will have you to die with, cruel girl.”

At least even in humiliating defeat, Pavel can be loved.

“Are you scared to die, Pav?”

You’re a sweet one, he fondly recalls. Assuming he had much to live for outside his schlocky revenge scheme.

“Projecting, hm?”

You pinch his side. He lets you.

DAY 3. NIGHT.

“Now, bend it.”

Pavel hisses but manages to fully extend and curl his newly unwound arm with nothing more than a click in his elbow. He lays both hands in his lap as you bunch the bandages and sling into a ball and lay it off to the side.

“Good,” you utter softly, “You’ve healed a lot faster than I would’ve thought.”

“Right?” Pavel turns his head to stare down at you, tilting his head back, “You should sit with me.”

“You’re feeling charitable,” he scoffs at your tease, not moving to accommodate his invite, “Where should I even sit, then? You’re taking the entire seat.”

When he merely smirks, you get the idea.

“You’re gross.”

“Indulge me, cruel girl,” you rise to your feet, gnawing your bottom lip in contemplation, Pavel leans against the armrest and cinches his legs together, “Would you make a man die alone?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

But would you make Pavel die alone?

You swing a leg over his torso, careful to avoid the healing slash and straddle Pavel’s waist with both hands landing over his exposed chest. He cups your cheek again, now taking pleasure (and slight pain) in cradling your face with both hands. He hasn’t gotten to see a beautiful woman in ages, and he thinks maybe it isn’t so bad to go out staring at one.

Moonlight cascades over the both of you, so bright in the train cabin it almost burns.

“If we could still run, where would you go?” you ask.

“Where would you want me?”

“Flirt,” you’re leaning in, though, trailing a finger over his scarred chest. Your nails bite at the flesh, he grunts in disapproval, “How can I believe anything you say? You betrayed your leader. Would you shoot me, too?”

Pavel is sure you’re anything but serious in asking, but it's dangerous the way he feels compelled to answer genuinely, “Never. I’d miss your… What was it? Brutalism?”

“Enough,” the moonlight sears over where Pavel’s hands are curved around your cheeks. You lean down more until your lips brush his, “You call me rude, but you’re- “

He slices your derision short, pressing his petal soft lips against yours with a quiet, contented sigh.

Moonlight bares witness. And you cannot pull away even as the fire in your heart rages from affection to molten lava. You’re not even entirely sure you would want to.

…

Karin cannot feel her fingers as she stands in the open train car door. She’s seen many things - many terrible, awful things. Especially so in the past seventy-two hours than her entire career as a war journalist, but this may be what truly drives her mad. She can feel it - the need to retreat inside her mind and shut down completely; the need to give up hope of salvation. Maybe she can suppress it long enough to sit by that seashore, get a good view to wash out the image before her.

Wriggling on the train loveseat is a fleshy creature, almost like mushed peaches. Occasionally, pleased sighs and hums will escape one of its two smiling faces as the lumps slide and shift along the cushion. One face nuzzles closer to the other and the measly bread and meat Karin swiped from deserted kitchens lurches in her stomach.

None of the other monsters she’d encountered had been so undeniable in its previous humanity. It reminds her of the holed, broken, pliant corpses of uniformed soldiers dead in trenches, and it reminds her of the first time she ever saw a real dead body. She puked on its boot, unable to run back and spew bile elsewhere before it was spurting past her lips.

Karin’s stomach is stronger now, though. She has the time to turn and trudge on wobbly knees towards the seaside before she pukes - squirming flesh and smoldered limbs tangling in her mind.

Moonlight burns at the back of her neck as The Lovers moan and coo happily behind her.

#pav fear and hunger #pav yudin #fear and hunger x reader #pav x reader #pavel yudin x reader #fear and hunger fluff #working title to this was p(av) in v #laugh NEOW

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higuchisora · 2 months

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The idea of characters from other stories winding up in SVSSS has been stuck in my head for a while but I'm not gonna write abt it lmao so here's what's been rattling around in the ole noggin:

Toph:

Toph would be a genuine menace

Specifically on poor Liu Qingge, who hasn't the slightest clue how he wound up with yet another student

Earthbending should not be possible here. Earthbending is NOT possible here.

Toph invents earthbending here.

In fact, she only gets stronger. Because the cultivation aspects of the world means she's got even more qi and knows more about how to use it beyond earthbending.

She can now use qi itself to "see" (sensing others' qi, using it to sense movement, etc.) Not just earthbending

Lqg wants nothing to do with any more disciples. Especially not ones as annoying as yang yixuan

He gets a gremlin even more annoying than yang yixuan

He lies awake at night, regretting saving her life that one time on a hunt and kickstarting her path of being a Problem

Specifically, he saves her life one night while she's out trying to remaster earthbending, inspiring her to become a cultivator

She runs away from her noble family and their arranged marriage and stifling life that they've planned out for her and heads straight to Cang Qiong's Bai Zhan peak the first chance she gets

Refuses to take no for an answer, thus growing to become lqg's #1 menace

He both blesses and curses the day she was born

Lqg would sooner die than admit she's basically his other baby sister/daughter figure

Will outright refuse to fly on her sword When asked how she'll get around, the earth goddamn MOVES UNDER HER FEET and she causes several earthquake/mole monster sightings with these shenanigans

Is banned from this move

Begins to tunnel underground instead

She could arguably fly on her sword just fine, sensing the qi around her to navigate and shit, but it's harder and definitely uncomfortable and brings back bad memories of that one time in the volcano with Aang and Sokka

Luo Binghe wants her dead

She probably never gets strong enough to 1v1 him and win but she's definitely strong enough to become a genuine challenge

Especially when she reinvents metalbending

Rides for her shizun ong

Would probably fight lbh for lqg's honor after the SQQ corpse situation (he did not ask her to do this)

Aang:

The angel of Qing Jing peak fr

Or that monastery but we don't hear enough about them tbh

Has legitimately no idea how he got here, maybe too scared to question it actually

Like, did he really fuck up and end up getting ripped out of the avatar cycle orrrr????

Decides some things are better left unknown

The only struggle he really has is not being bald anymore

Honestly???? Might still shave his head and just stick to a wig

Would inevitably get caught or ALMOST caught and eventually gets used to growing it out (would probably become the inventor of extensions or wig glue though lmao)

Would make the spoiled qing jing disciples better just by being around them tbh

Star student probably, would be a menace in a cute way

One of the few men allowed on Xian Shu (for visits/messages)

Would probably befriend demons ngl

Loves flying on his sword

Prefers his staff though, and eventually figures out how to make/get someone to make one for him

No one knows how he does the air scooter. They are scared.

No one asks about the tattoos either.

Or how he's controlling all these fucking elements.

He doesn't have an avatar state anymore, but that doesn't seem to stop him from being wildly more dangerous than anyone expected

Possibly unlocks permanent cultivation-blocking? Like sealing off your core

Demons don't take note

Until he learns how to do the same for demonic cores

Exorcist Aang

Possibly becomes a rogue/wandering cultivator

Wandering rogue exorcist Aang????

He's either a god descended upon the earth or a heavenly demon in disguise, according to critics

He thinks it's all silly

Until he meditates too hard and communes with a god or something who tells him they may or may not have bargained to snatch his corner of the avatars soul for a reason

Uh oh

Sokka:

Does not know how he managed to get spiritual energy or cultivate

Actively chooses not to think too much about it

The head disciple of An Ding 😭

Absolutely salty about it

Shang Qinghua is endlessly grateful though

Does not know what to make of the long hair thing; probably tries to keep his hair in a half-pony still, as an ode to the water tribe

I've seen some fics where Qiong Ding is headcannoned as the bureaucratic peak; in this case, he might be able to sweet talk his way in if fate and Yue Qingyuan is kind enough

Either way he's grateful he gets to do sword stuff again

Especially now that he can FLY on them?!

He hasn't completely forgotten his skills, so he's got a whole different style no one's seen before and it's Weirdly Good Actually

He finally works his cultivation up enough to get his personal sword

Then he finally gets to summon his and he cries

It's space sword

No one knows what the fuck to make of this weird ass sword but he doesn't care, it's his and he loves it

Known as the best ever manager of An Ding peak

Katara:

Would have one (1) argument with her brother and march up to Xian Shu

Frequent visitor of Qing Jing and Qian Cao

Mu Qingfang mourns every day that she didn't choose the medicine peak

Katara maintains that she's too ready to beat some ass to ever be a full doctor and vow to do no harm

Never quite learns to be comfy with a sword but can still handle her own

During the demon invasion on Cang Qiong (assuming she's there at the time), she bloodbends Hualing right off the mountain

The demons do NOT stick around

The cultivators are too scared to ask her what the fuck that was but they're nicer to her than before

The xian shu peak gains a fearsome reputation of possibly teaching blood magic

No One gets how she does the waterbending stuff. Outsiders assume it's some Xian Shu ancient secret technique. Or she's related to Mobei Jun. Real members know Kataras just Like This.

Keeps the hair loopies. No matter what people say.

Wears a blue necklace similar to her mother's heirloom; a gift from her shizun probably

Genuinely enjoys the sisterhood on Xian Shu. It reminds her of the better days of her home, before the southern raiders came back

Zuko:

Could've chosen from several peaks, but chooses Bai Zhan

Something about the bamboo on Qing Jing reminds him of his uncle though, so he likes to visit. But not for too long. It hurts.

Isn't really bothered by the long hair thing; while cutting hair isn't forbidden in the fire nation, long hair is common practice, especially for nobles

Keeps the standard topknot until Toph calls it ugly

And then he remembers toph cannot see his topknot

Starts doing ponytails anyway

Also a star student of Bai Zhan, especially after he busts out the firebending forms

Yet another nuisance for poor lqg

He and Toph are the only two that can keep up with each other

Known as the Twin Stars of Bai Zhan

Aka the Twin Headaches of Liu Qingge

Has a small red birthmark near his eye, on the side that used to be burned

The fact that there isn't a massive burn is mildly uncomfortable to him at first. Doesn't feel like himself

Again, No One knows how all these kids with weird qi abilities are coming from

They're beginning to suspect they're all part demon

Neither he nor Toph ever defeat the demon heritage allegations

Especially not with the way they fight. And allegedly have a Past that no one else knows about

Would also fight Binghe for his Shizuns honor

Weirdly chill for Bai Zhan actually

Has probably made leaps and bounds from his avatar hunting days already

Most expect him to have gone to a quieter peak, it's baffling

Until he beats the shit outta somebody

And then goes back to being gentle and chill and forgiving

He wonders if uncle Iroh is watching over him here too

He can only hope his uncle is still proud of him, wherever he might be

Lqg isn't his uncle, but he's still a kind presence that Zuko looks up to a little, even if the guy is a little too punchy

Thus takes it upon himself to ride or die for him

One of the few dual wielders around

His curved blades are also a source of curiosity for the others

But he's good with them so no one complains

In a bingliushen situation, Zuko, Toph, and YYX are feral protective gremlins that somehow make things better AND worse for the development of the bingliushen courtship process lmao

I'll probably make more at some point but that's all for now. If someone wants to make a fic of these PLEASE let me know, link me I'm desperate

#atla #svsss #scum villian self saving system #avatar the last airbender #drabble #no bc this was living in my head RENT FREE #toph being best bai zhan disciple ong #can you tell i love lqg?#i love lqg #i ship bingliushen so hard ngl #especially where lqg is so oblivious to the 2 dumbasses trying to reel him in #while also simultaneously pining over them like an idiot #svsss crossovers #honestly theyd be needlessly protective around ANYONE who wants to date lqg tbh

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unhookingstarswithoutpermission · 4 months

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okay but listen. one piece au where everything happens the same way, as in luffy sees zoro for the first time and decides right there. that’s his person. that’s his soulmate.

and like their journey through east blue is totally the same but. luffy has, legally, been adopted by shanks before garp sent him to dadan’s. so like, shanks is his legal guardian just as much as dadan is, but no one really knows how to find the mountain bandits hideout, right? but shanks has a huge ship and a huge crew and technically luffy is still a minor so like. garp’s after him, he calls him every other day to tell shanks to keep luffy under control and shanks just. refuses to go against luffy’s dream.

AND THEN. mihawk is also somehow zoro’s guardian (the whole debacle where zoro and perona were sent to his castle happened when they were kids because I say so) but zoro still spent years with kuina and wants to uphold her dream and if that means he has to fight his almost-dad then so be it. so he becomes a pirate hunter to get stronger and mihawk just lets him, because he’s not about to betray his almost-son’s dream. baratie happens and he has no idea this newcomer strawhat has shanks’ hat and zoro on his crew but he won’t refuse a challenge from zoro and he still strikes him down and then lets him go because he sees the growth in him, and he wants zoro to get even better.

and maybe mihawk sees the way zoro and luffy exist in the same space, the way they don’t have to talk to understand each other, the way luffy lets zoro run towards his dream even if it could mean he has to see him die right before his eyes.

and it reminds him of himself and shanks, because they had a thing when they were younger - before shanks was captain and before mihawk became a warlord - and the way zoro and luffy gravitate towards each other is just so similar to what they had, except. Except luffy and zoro’s dreams can live together, are living together, so mihawk sees what could have been between him and shanks if they were the right person at the right time, like their almost-sons are.

AND that’s why mihawk brings luffy’s bounty to shanks. that’s why he stops for a drink. that’s why he spends the whole night hearing complaints about how the rest of luffy’s family wants him to look after him, but really, luffy would never forgive shanks if he got in the way of his dreams. and mihawk, too, talks about how it was to know that he was standing in the way of his own son’s dream. and then, because they understand each other now in a way they didn’t when they were younger and together, mihawk talks about what the relationship zoro and luffy seem to have. how it resembles what they had, but better, because they aren’t fighting each other - they are working together.

and that opens up a whole new way of seeing stuff, for shanks. because it wasn’t the right time, when they were younger and had different goals and expectations, but maybe that doesn’t mean him and mihawk are doomed for the start. maybe they can have something, too, maybe it was just a matter of the context they were in, maybe they were the right person for each other all along.

#one piece #one piece live action #inspo #zolu #one piece zolu #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #zoro/luffy #mishanks #dracule mihawk #shanks #mihawk/shanks #I’m just MAD about the similarities between them #and I love thinking of shanks and mihawk as father figures #let them look at how zolu acts and figure out that’s how they could have been too

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mswyrr · 5 months

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an object in motion wishes to stay in motion: corrupt societies and the Capitol adults in THG

I wrote about here and here that I think of Ballad as a powerful depiction of the acculturation of a young person into a corrupt society. IMO, the quote from Frankenstein Collins chooses to start the book with very much supports that view. Coriolanus is still in formation, on the cusp of adulthood. He's deciding who he will be and his choices are all shaped by his society. But I think it also shows us, through the adults, what that looks like once it's become ossified. The adults show us why these books are about teenagers and their agency in how they treat other kids, rather than the adults.

They've become such a part of the perverse incentive structures of their society that they act them out almost thoughtlessly. Even Highbottom, who hates what he's done, sees no other choice besides slowly killing himself with morphling as he nonetheless perpetuates this thing.

In that sense, while the adults are responsible for what they do in shaping the next generation--and, with Snow, actually helping shape someone who will make things worse--they're acting out decisions made long ago. They help create a future that is in keeping with the sins they, in their turn, chose when they were young. And it's all for nothing; within a short period of time, this system will become so hollow that a slip of a girl with a bow can light the spark that sets it ablaze. It won't even outlive this child they're shaping. There's an overtone of dramatic irony to all of it.

1-Highbottom is a morphling addict who is rarely, possibly never, sober. When he looks at the child in front of him, all he sees is Coriolanus' father. There IS a possibility for things to go better - but he's so absorbed in the horror of a decade of watching children die due to his idea (an idea he NEVER meant to be realized) he can't see it, he won't do anything but push things further.

He's given up on life and just drags himself through the day, lashing out at the image of a man he hates in the face of a child. He is not capable--he has made himself and been made incapable--of the self-awareness and inner strength to change this story. That's partly why his death has bitter dramatic irony too it: Coriolanus kills him with the morphling he was slowly killing himself with anyway.

2-Strabo Plinth is a war criminal and an arms manufacturer who refuses to really connect with his own son, his only child. If he did, he'd have to look at what he is and what he's done. In many ways, his son is lost before his death because Strabo refuses to see; he wants the resources and power of the Capitol and refuses to see what a death of the soul it is and how someone like Sejanus just... can't live like that the way he can. There's too much truth in his own child's eyes. Like Highbottom, at first all he sees when he looks at Coriolanus is his father. In the end, though, Strabo gets the perfect Capitol scion son he always wanted, a boy who would never challenge him or make him look at his own sins; he gets that son in the form of the boy who got his own child killed.

3-And Dr Gaul -- obsessed with war and the necessity of control, her only legacy to find and shape a child to make sure the spirit of the war continues as long as possible. She's pretty clearly neurodivergent and seems prone to sadistic impulses. HOWEVER, there are plenty of neurodiverent, low empathy people and/or people who are sadists who never commit any crimes, who are decent people. I can only imagine what being neurodivergent in the kind of society the Capitol was in her youth was like. It's the kind of society that rewards people like Coriolanus' father. For someone with her brain - well, I can see why she came to believe people are fundamentally chaotic and violent and need to be controlled. It explained the things she must have gone through and it justified her desire to inflict pain on others. The war, as she says, was a gift. It proved her "right" about people and it made her skills in science very important. Finally, people saw the world as she saw it. Finally, nobody could push her around. She wants the Hunger Games to continue because she wants to keep pushing on other peoples' trauma so they don't forget she's right and don't stop seeing her relevance as someone who designs weapons.

And I think it's important that this idea of control that she believes in is one that Collins references in another quote, to Hobbes' Leviathian. As I wrote here, that kind of idea isn't simplistically evil at heart - other people historically irl who had seen war and chaos have truly believed in it too. There is evidence she's not seeing, about how she's applying pressure and creating the "human nature" she believes is there already - but it's not as if there's not plenty of experiences and povs of people who see it too. It's not as if the horror and trauma of how people behave toward each other (especially if, for some reason, a person feels cast outside the circle of community and acceptance) isn't a real thing people experience.

However, I think there's a bitter irony for her too - ultimately, Snow makes the Games such a success as an entertainment that younger people in the Capitol lose track of it as a memory of war, an object lesson. He keeps it alive, but her intent dies over time. Someone like Seneca Crane truly doesn't understand what this thing IS, what it is for, not even--in the films--when Snow tries to outright tell him the realpolitik of it. The thing Gaul feared happens: people forget and "chaos" overcomes her beautiful, violent order she wants to keep alive in Snow as an instrument of legacy.

4-Adult!Snow's legacy himself is of failure. Unlike Gaul and Strabo, he actually doesn't have a legacy for someone else to continue at all. Nothing of the schemes and ideas he gave his entire life to survives to rule. The chaos he feared wins and, specifically, it wins in the form of someone who is able to break the cycle truly - if the Games with Capitol children had been allowed to go forward--and it's entirely possible they could have! That's the thing; they're not "insane" people basing their bs entirely on nothing, there's reasons and experiences and a whole social structure of very real rewards and punishments motivating them-- that would have supported Gaul's and Snow's beliefs.* Instead, they are repudiated by Katniss ideologically as well as practically.

Why don't any of them do better in Ballad? For the same reason 84-year-old Snow cannot and will not: he's already committed. He doesn't even really see what is possible in the now, he's so stuck in the rut he's made for himself. Adults can change, sometimes, but they find it harder and harder to as they walk deeper into their lives, build themselves and their identities and their material comfort around certain ideas and practices. They are responsible for their actions, but they also made themselves instruments of this society, serving to perpetuate it for the survival of their own sense of self and for their material survival.

That's why, on a meta level, the main trilogy and the prequel have to focus on the choices of children coming of age. Psychologically and sociologically, they have a period of decision and possibility - not without intense pressures on them, but with more flexibility and room to change than most adults who are already committed and most prone to doubling down. And it's important that what Katniss ends is the Games - and that is the key thing Coriolanus kept alive - not exploitation, not greed, not the tendency of corruption and cruelty even within democracies. It is a challenge scaled to their age, about other people their age and younger, and fits with Collins' refusal to do superpowered YA leads.

Beyond the scope of the Games, Panem finds democracy and change. But not certainty. That doesn't exist in history, in their world or ours. We, like Katniss, simply have to remember "every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do" and choose and choose and know there's always a price to be paid, so you might as well pay it for what truly matters to you--as Katniss and Peeta did--instead of living in fear, as Coriolanus did. Choose and hope.

*It's not as if there aren't plenty of examples of revolutions where that does happen. If the only reason you're being moral is because you think other people will be nice and fair and just if you do, that -- doesn't necessarily hold out long when it meets reality. Reality doesn't "reward" decency like that. You have to do it willing to pay the price and not expecting a reward - that's why Coriolanus choosing not to pay that price is human even as it is awful and why Katniss kills Coin believing she will die for it.

#thg meta #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #my meta #long post #suzanne collins #hmmm i'm making myself cry writing hunger games meta lol

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meteor752 · 3 months

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I rewatched ever after high with my girlfriend after like, six years

We had…thoughts

Do you guys think fairytale people look down on those who aren’t from a fairytale? Because, Ever After High seems to be the most like prestige school, but not everyone can go to it. Is there like racism going on between fairytale people and normal people?

It’s said many times that Apple will be like, the future queen, but when we meet Snow White she’s a fucking capitalist. Also Apple being queen means kinda nothing cause half the school are royalty and will grow up to become kings and queens. That title doesn’t mean anything

We had like, ten kids from wonderland, but no Oz kids? I feel like a Dorothy child would be very obvious, like what the hell, same with the witches

The school actively encourages evil people to be evil, then become surprised when they are evil. Like, Evil Queen cursing Wonderland and almost taking over the world? That’s on you, principal

Also can we place lock up the principal in jail? He lied and manipulated his students, stole from Raven, and kept his brother cursed and locked up in the basement. Like, ???? The brother comes back and is just like “Oh I missed you so much brother” like no!!!!!! Get that man out of here!!!!!

Do the fairytale people reproduce like, asexually, or do we have a ton of inbreeding between the royals? Well, it would be the most realistic aspect of the show

Hot take: Apple is a great character. Like yeah she’s a little selfish, but when we’re shown how she was raised it’s fully understandable that she’s so obsessed with fulfilling her destiny, but she’s never rude or bitchy, not ever really to Raven. Also she gets better! Active character development! She’s one of my favorites

Why the fuck is Allister frolicking in Wonderland. Bro Alice came back, she left that place, yet everyone is just like “Yep he’s a wonderlandian”, like no! Also he’s a royal? Bro you can’t be a royal, you were actively rebelling against your story by going to wonderland early

It’s a little messed up how many of the kids are like, being forced to die. Like Ramona? She will be fucking gutted after eating her sister if she goes with her story. Like what is this school, what are these rules?

Apart from Sparrow, surprisingly, everyone of the boy designs are so fucking boring. Ew

I love the direction they took for Briar. I think they kinda realized after the first episode that shit, it’s kinda weird that this girl who’s destiny it is to sleep for 100 years to just be fine with it. Briar is also one of my faves

Speaking of the sleeping beauty story tho, do you think it’s rare for the school to have a sleeping beauty? Cause we’re shown that this school has housed like, generations of fairytale characters, but since Sleeping beauty clocks out for a hundred years, and probably only had a child after that, they must only get her like, every fourth or fifth generation. Kinda interesting actually

Daring X Cerise > Daring X Rosabella. Like idk, maybe it’s that Cerise can like, fully challenge him in his views, forcing him to become better in a way. Like, with Rosabella it feels more like an “I can fix him <3” mindset, while with Cerise it’s more “I can knock him down a peg”. I just thought they had a better dynamic, idk

Speaking of the Charming family, gf and I fucking hate Dexter’s name. Like, Daring and Darlings names match each other so well, not just that they sound alike but that they have meanings. Dexter is just a boring name

We tried to come up with name ideas, Dating was the funniest one to us, but we thought Dastardly was kinda fun.

Like, our thought process was that he was meant to be like, the classic jealous twin brother, always looking to sabotage his perfect older bro, except he wasn’t that at all. Like, a running joke would be that it would look like he was sabotaging Daring, or like being mean, but then the camera would like zoom out or smt and show that he was like, playing a video game or just doing something completely different. It would have been more fun, plus it would have given Dexter like an actual personality instead of just, inferiority complex the person

Dashing could also have been an idea for a name

Kitty should have a tail. As should her milf of a mother have. Also like, real cat ears instead of just a hat or a headband. It feels obvious

I mean Bunny has actual bunny ears, plus she can transform into a bunny, but why is the cat just like A Girl

How can Hunter belong to both the Little red ringing hood story, and Snow White. Is his dad just a mad multitasker, or does he have two dads? I like the second option honestly

The storybeat of the characters all living through each others story honestly should have been like, an entire special. It’s the most interesting thing the show did, and I wish we could have seen more, cause it lasted only like seven minutes. But that gives us more time to see that thrilling book all storyline, amiright?!

Briar’s moment was especially heart aching, and I wish we'd gotten more of it

But like, since Briar as the evil queen saw Apple poisoned instead of her mum, does that mean that Raven was talking to herself in her story

But at the same time, Blondie saw the current queen of hearts instead of Lizzie, so like what's going on

Snow White and The Evil Queen have like the vibe of high school rivals/ex girlfriends, and they did go to school together, but like Queenie is literally her step mom. Like what. If Raven were to live out her story, would that mean that she would marry Apple's dad? Whoever that is?

The more you think about the lore of this world the more it doesn't make sense, but it also becomes like incredibly dark

The Pied Piper is one of if not my favorite fairytales, but I hate how he is represented in this show. Like he kidnapped children and then drowned them, that man shouldn't be a teacher!

Also white queen is a teacher at ever after, yet her daughter is still in wonderland. Like bitch just left her there, what the hell.

I love that they didn’t make any of the princesses stuck up bitches, like Descendants did. Like, the girls are all kind, with vibrant personalities and a lot of love for the people around them. The closest thing to the “mean girl” stereotype is Duchess actually

But Duchess makes total sense! She fucking drowns at the end of her story, of course she wants another one. Why is Raven’s rebellion praised but Duchesses scorned? Also why is she a royal, girlypop is literally trying to steal other people’s happily ever after, she a rebel

There is more I can say, but this post has already been deleted twice from my drafts, and I am scared of it, so it’s better to get it out now

Also, as a final little send off, here’s my ranking of the characters, and the ships

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helpallthenamesaretakenblog · 23 days

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so :D i wrote my first ever fanfic because i was intrigued and want to know if i could do it. i hope you like it :)) i nerded out way too much on this one so spare me pls be kind!

description: set during the battle of manhattan, tlo. slightly canon divergent. lot of percy angst. tw: su!cidal thoughts. percys pov. percabeth being cute. based on the poem 'stopping by the woods on a snowy evening' by robert frost :)

Miles to Go Before I Sleep- A PJO Fanfiction

I couldn't sleep that night. I paced the room for two hours until late night as if there was something terrible was going to happen. I was worried sick--about Annabeth, about the war, about everything. At midnight, moonlight streamed through the hotel window as I sat, almost lifelessly on the bed, staring into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a creak in the door, and I was about to snatch riptide before I heard a whisper, "Percy? You awake?"

In the shadows, I saw the familiar figure of Grover, tired after a long day of attending to the satyrs. He sat down next to me on the bed, and we both stared at the wall in comfortable silence. For a moment, I could almost close my eyes and imagine that we were 12 year olds at Yancy again. "The Apollo kids are seeing you through the hotel surveillance cameras. They sent me to ask you to sleep" "Since you're the only one right now who I'll listen to?" ".....yep"

While Grover rambled something about him being my unofficial mom right now, I looked at my bedside table, and there it was. Pandora's Jar. Man, I wished the stupid thing would stop following me around, and right now, it wasn't the best time for me to want to resist opening it. Unfortunately, Grover read my emotions. "You want to open it, don't you?"

The question, which had always been on the back of my mind, really stung now that it was said out loud. I think Grover could see I was breaking down a little on the inside, and wrapped me in an awkward hug. "I-I do," it came spilling out of my mouth, my voice cracking. "It just feels like the Fates are giving me an opportunity instead of a challenge. I feel like everything around me is falling apart. I'm not good at handling war. If I give up to Kronos, he'd kill me, as long as I'd make him promise he wouldn't hurt you guys. It's just easier. It's better for everyone else" My eyes felt wet, and I pulled away quickly. Grover looked so lost, I immediately felt bad for making him worry about me. "Go to sleep, Percy," he said in a painful tone, as if I was a delusional grandpa who had gotten loose from the nursing home bed. Before I could say anything, he pulled out his reedpipes. Before I could protest, he started playing soft, sweet music and before I knew it, I was asleep.

In my dream, I was sitting with Annabeth in the strawberry field, while she had a book in her lap. Annabeth was smiling, her hair glinting in the sunlight. She was okay. We were okay. It was a sunny day and all the campers were having fun. I remembered this day; this conversation had happened two months before the war. Woah. That felt so far away.

"I finally found the greek version of this poem!" she said excited, her eyes sparkling, which gave me butterflies. "This poem is really famous for the last four lines, wait-wait, I'll read it out to you" She picked it up. "So the English version of these lines are: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep" I bumped her shoulder with mine. "Ok, nerd...what's the point?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "It basically means that the poet wanted to die and found death a beautiful easy way out, but he realised he still had a duty in his life and that he still had a long way before his time to go, isn't that so poetic?" "I guess. You're better at this than me"

This didn't happen that day, but she opened her arms, as if about to hug me, probably due to Grover's magical reedpipe music, and for a second I felt elated that life felt livable again, before the ground opened up before she could, and I fell into endless darkness.

I woke up, shaking. I felt like I had been given a sweater in the cold before it got snatched away, leaving me back in the freezing winter. Grover was gone. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted things to be alright again. I wanted to see Annabeth happy and nerdy as usual and hug her. But sunlight streamed in through the window, and I forced myself out of the bed and went up the stairs to where Annabeth was.

When I walked up to her in the chair, my heart broke again. She looked so different from the dream. Her eyes were weakly staring at the view, she was shivering and her face was still a little gray. "Hey" she said. I checked up on her, talking to her about her health, which was slowly getting better, thankfully, but it didn't stop me from feeling guilty.

As I stared at her hopelessly, Pandora's Jar appeared on the table next to her. Annabeth studied my face. "We should put it in a place where it stays there"

I nodded my head in agreement. I took the jar gingerly in my hands. I looked out into the view from above. The whole city was in my sight. I saw demigods rebuilding the mortal's homes, some of which were damaged after the day's fight. I saw Nico rejoining a skeleton from his army's bones, with Will hovering curiously from a distance. "Is that a coccyx ?" "Gesundheit" If I died, he'd be the prophecy kid. I saw two tired aphrodite girls staring at a broken mirror, as if wondering where their life (and skin) started to break. I needed to keep them going. I needed to survive, I couldn't let them down. I needed to give them what they were fighting for. They were fighting for me. All my depression would have to wait for another day.

"It must be annoying," Annabeth said. "Don't you ever just want to open it?"

"Nah," I gave her my bravest smile, as I carried the jar to the door, where I would give it to be locked in a storage locker in the hotel. "I have promises to keep; and miles to go before I sleep"

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life-love-musicaltheatre · 1 year

Text

This started more as a self indulgent joke I made in the tags of @unclewaynemunson’s post that I ended up running away with.

I just really like baseball and I think Eddie would agree with me that Steve with a nail bat could convince me to do anything.

⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇

If you were to tell Eddie Munson that within 3 months he would watch a girl die, become wanted for murder of said sweet sweet girl, steal an RV, almost die himself in a hell dimension, get carried out of said hell dimension by his high school crush, and then have his name mysteriously cleared of all charges and /those/ events led to him playing a sport for the first time in his life, he would ask who sold you the drugs you were on because it definitely wasn’t him. But somehow, there he was, in the middle of a small clearing with Steve Harrington’s chest pressing gently against his back, hands over his own while they swung a bat through the air. Eddie and Steve were both sweaty and the repetition of the motion was actually nice. Eddie felt Steve slip from behind him and he caught himself from sighing at the loss of contact.

“Alright, think you’re ready to take a swing at a moving target?”

Eddie eased into the stance they’d been practicing and closed his eyes while he drew a steadying breath.

“Throw it.”

In truth this chapter of Eddie’s life had started a week ago when Steve asked him to grab Dustin’s backpack from his trunk.

“What the fuck, Harrington!”

Steve jogged over as Eddie gestured to the contents of his car. “Oh! Yeah, that’s my bat.”

Steve said it like it was the most casual thing in the world to own a baseball bat with FUCKING NAILS sticking out of it! Eddie blinked and gestured again, more forcefully since it seemed to him Steve missed the whole point of What The Fuck Harrington-ing him. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled as if Eddie was putting on just for Steve’s amusement. (Which to be honest, he was, but only a little bit.)

“It’s /the/ bat, Munson. Y’know, the one I took on those dog things with.” He said it with an almost shy smile like he was embarrassed to be bragging about himself.

Eddie blinked at him. Yeah, that was something Dustin had filled him in on, but he’s only heard it in snippets till then, and at no point did anyone mention the nails.

“You still drag that around in your car?” Dustin added as he grabbed his backpack from Eddie’s loosening grip.He’d thought it before, but it never ceased to absolutely floor Eddie how casually his new friends talked about near apocalyptic experiences. He shook himself a little as a hard reset before taking a deep breath and reminding himself he did in fact care about these weirdos, who were now bickering over the merits of being able to swing a bat.

“I taught Nancy how to swing it, and then I kicked that demogorgon’s ass at the Byers’! You cannot disparage the bat Henderson.”

“Oh you taught Nancy? That explains why she’s crap with melee weapons and sticks to her guns. Literally! She could blow your bat out of the water with her aim!”

Steve put his hands on his hips and leveled Dustin with a glare. “S’not my fault she found something she was better at. Plus, I bet I could teach any one of you how to swing. I was in charge of batting practice Sophomore and Junior year.”

“Then teach me.”

Both boys turned and looked at Eddie like they just remembered he was there. Eddie was even a little surprised he’d spoken up, but he was never one to back down from a challenge and with a chance to be close to Steve on the line there was no limit to the type of fool he’d make of himself.

“You sure about that?” Steve asked cautiously.

Eddie shrugged. “If it gets you two to stop giving me a headache then I’ll even let you teach me what order to run the little baggies in, Steve-o.”

Steve looked at him hard for a beat before breaking out into a huge grin. “Alright. You asked for it man.”

With that Steve slammed the trunk and the three of them went inside. Eddie should have felt nervous, but with the way Steve’s face lit up he was honestly just trying not to swoon. He looked so excited and Eddie would do anything to see Steve’s face light up like that again. So they made plans, next afternoon Steve had off work he was going to teach Eddie how to swing his nail bat.

—

The day came fast and Steve had given him specific instructions to wear pants and shoes he could run in. They met at Steve’s house and walked out into the woods; Steve carrying a navy blue bag that Eddie was sure was hiding the nail bat from prying eyes. There was a giddiness in the air between the boys as they made their way to a small clearing deep in the trees.

“Alright,” Steve clapped his hands together as he rounded on Eddie, “time for batting practice, Munson.”

He unzipped the bag and dropped it before pulling out two normal bats and a baseball.

For a split second Eddie was confused at the lack of nails and a grin on Steve’s face that could only be described as shit eating. It took him a half second longer to realize he’d been tricked by Steve Harrington into playing real, actual baseball for an entire afternoon.

Eddie’s silence stretched on a beat more and Steve’s smile faltered.

“I was-“

“Let’s hit balls.”

Steve’s worried look morphed into a smile as he hid a snort behind his hand. “I think you’re looking for ‘Let’s play ball.’”

Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed, “Whatever you say, oh Royal Knight of the field,” bowing low before taking the bat Steve was holding out to him.

“Ok, I know you’re just trying to make fun of me, but actually the Kansas City Royals won the World Series last year so that’s actually a compliment.”It was Eddie’s turn to hide a laugh as Steve idly twirled his bat in his hands—a move Eddie was sure if he tried to replicate would end up with him smacking himself in the head—as he looked Eddie up and down.

“Alright now, I want to see what we’re working with.” Eddie started feeling fidgety under Steve’s gaze. “Give me a swing.”

“Ok man, you asked for it.”

Eddie planted his feet wide and leaned over at the hips before swinging fast, almost losing his grip on the back swing. He looked up (when had he started looking down?) at Steve to see him with his brow furrowed, biting his bottom lip. Eddie winced and shrugged. “Like I said...”

“No. I mean it’s not great, by any means, but,” Steve’s brow softened, “it’s not the worst I’ve seen. And you didn’t almost hit me so you’ve got that over Nance.”

Eddie felt something in his chest brighten involuntarily. He smirked at Steve, “So you’re saying I have a shot at making the team, Harrington?”

Steve laughed and Eddie felt like his chest was visibly glowing. “You already made the cut, Eds. We just gotta whip you into playing shape now.”

And as light as Eddie felt, making Steve smile and sharing something he obviously loved so much, so began one of the sweatiest afternoons of Eddie’s life.

They started with his grip, which according to Steve wasn’t too horrible actually, but needed to be more relaxed so it didn’t affect his overall swing. Steve used his own bat to tap at Eddie, moving his feet closer together so they were shoulder width apart, raising his hands up higher and lengthening out his neck so he was actually looking up and not at his feet. All the while he gave instructions about how Eddie should position his weight over his back foot and step into the swing, lead with his hips, and don’t try to end the swing till he finishes following the movement all the way through.

Steve made him do a few more, even doing a few swings of his own so Eddie could see what he meant, but it seemed like both of them were just becoming more frustrated, till Steve ran a hand through his hair and groaned.

“Fuck it.”

Steve dropped his bat and moved behind Eddie, dropping his hands firmly to his hips and pulling them back. Eddie let his bat fall slack, stuck between telling Steve off for not warning him first and melting into his grip.

“You’re rotating too fast. You’re throwing your hips too much and you’ll get hit by the ball if you’re not careful.”

Eddie could feel Steve’s words like a cooling breeze on the back of his neck. He nodded, not trusting his voice with Steve pressed this close, right behind him.

“You have to let every part of your body flow through the swing.” Steve was pulling his hips, “Bat up Munson,” and Eddie let himself be dragged through the motion.

Back, step forward, pull through. Again. Back, step forward, pull through. All the while Steve was guiding his body through the motion, it felt hypnotic and fluid. Much better than how Eddie had been doing it before.

“Good.” Steve moved his arms up and wrapped his hands over Eddie’s. “Keep the bat up higher. You want to let it fall back a little when you wind up.”

They moved through the swing together some more—back, step forward, pull through—and Eddie felt himself sink into the motion fully for the first time that day. It’d only been a couple hours they’d been practicing but his swings were getting surer. The bat was loose in his grip but he didn’t feel like it was going to go sailing into the trees like it almost had earlier. Eddie felt a tingle of something start to well up and spread through his limbs with every swing. Steve’s body was warm behind his. He was just starting to relax into the strong arms around him when Eddie felt Steve slip from behind him and he caught himself from sighing at the loss of contact.

“Alright, think you’re ready to take a swing at a moving target?”

Steve had gone to stand in front of him, pulling the baseball out from his pocket. Eddie squared up. Weight over his back foot, knees and feet shoulder width apart, knuckles lined up and fingers loose around the bat handle. He closed his eyes, took a final breath to steady himself before looking up at Steve with a sure smile.

“Throw it.”

Steve matched his smile before jogging back a few paces and taking a stance of his own. He tossed the ball underhanded towards Eddie and he wound up, stepping forward, and swinging sure through the pitch. He only caught the edge of the ball and it soared straight up into the air before coming back down and landing a foot behind where Eddie was standing. Steve’s laugh was bright as it cut through their clearing.

“Nice! You tipped it!” Eddie was scowling at the ball but looked up as Steve continued. “Toss it back and I’ll throw you another one.”

Eddie wanted to stay pissy but it was hard when Steve was obviously having so much fun. He threw it back the same way Steve had tossed it to him and it rolled the last few feet to where he was standing. He laughed again.

“Maybe next time I’ll teach you how to throw.”

Eddie laughed back, “How about we master one feat of athleticism at a time?”

They were smiling at each other as they reset their positions. Steve nodded at Eddie before tossing the ball, only for him to tip it again, this time landing in front of him. Eddie tossed it back quickly before squaring up again.

“Come on Steve! Give me a good throw!” He called out. He was long past denying that he was enjoying himself too.

Steve threw his head back, his mirth was palpable and it made Eddie’s face flush. “All right, you asked for it.”

Steve’s stance changed. It felt more serious, standing profiled as he hiked his leg up and let a real pitch go.

Eddie still swung at it. Of course he swung at it. He felt his hips pull forward and lead his shoulders and hands through his swing, eyes wide as he saw the bat make full contact with the ball and send it flying over Steve’s head and out into the trees beyond. There was a millisecond where the world was quiet before they could faintly hear the ball hit the first few leaves as it went through the canopy and suddenly Eddie felt pride explode in his chest. Steve began cheering as Eddie took off, running where he imagined the bases to be, egged on by Steve’s laughter.

“Eddie, dude! You’re running the wrong direction!” He doubled over as Eddie made a show of going around base numbers one and two. “Fuck it! Run home, Eddie! Run home!”

Eddie rounded close enough to base three before turning and sprinting directly at Steve. He jumped at him the last few paces crashing into him with a giant hug, sending them down to the forest floor. Both of them were too happy to care, they continued holding on to each other as they celebrated.

“Safe! Touchdown, Kansas City!” Eddie crowed from half on top of Steve.

“I know, you know that’s not right.” Steve said as their laughing died down. Eddie looked down at Steve below him and felt a pull in his gut. Sweaty and still so beautiful, he let his eyes flicker down to Steve’s lips.

“Is this part of the game too?” He asked quietly.

“Nah,” Steve’s smile practically sparkled up at him, “but I can still probably show you a thing or two.”

“You’re on.” Eddie grinned as he closed the gap between them and gave Steve a soft kiss.

He felt Steve’s hands come up and gently thread through his hair, not to deepen but to hold. They lazily let their lips slide over each other’s, Eddie more than happy to stay in their little clearing for the rest of the day, till Steve broke the kiss with a giggle.

“Y’know, again, I know you were joking but Kansas City’s also got a football team and-“

“You know what Steve? Let’s just stick with baseball for now.”

⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇⚾️🦇

Please let me know what you think. I personally think there needs to be more fics about Eddie getting into Steve’s hobbies too. I love the ones where Steve learns he’s amazing at DnD but please, we also need the reverse because there’s really something so homoerotic about the rituals we have for men to touch other men. 😂

I’ll probably refine this a little more and throw it up on my Ao3 in the morning, if you wanna read it there. In the mean time thank you so much for reading. Ok I love you buh-bye. 💕

*edit: since I finished this at like 3 am I didn’t really give it a thorough read through for spelling and grammar errors. Little bits have been edited. Hope this makes it read a little better!

#Steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #fic #my fic #my words #stranger things fic #baseball #Kansas City Royals mention #I just really like baseball you guys #and also I selfishly want Steve to be a Royals fan #honestly he should be a chief’s fan too #he’d love Patrick Mahomes

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