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#dynamical billiards
skitterchomp · 2 years
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dissection of a double pentagon into a skewed double pentagon (patterned after a diagram in a diana davis paper) by cutting along the indicated lines.
these are actually descriptions of a non-euclidean surface: colored edges follow portal rules, if you go in one side you come out the other side of the same color.
this example is significant because it combines two important properties:
though it is not immediately obvious, both of these arrangements describe the exact same surface
each arrangement can be obtained from the other by applying a particularly simple geometric transformation (called a skew transformation, for reasons that are probably visually apparent)
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percentstardust · 6 months
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sending so much love to you, rissa. i am so happy to have you in my life, as a mutual & as a friend. you have endless talent & you are absolutely incredible — never forget that. ❤️
@maidmyth
idr why you sent me this but i love you very much and i appreciate YOU SO MUCH LIS!
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fayes-fics · 2 years
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Sonnet #29
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
summary: Your husband Benedict and you have a late night tryst in the billiards room of Bridgerton House.
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warnings: 18+, smut, minors dni, vaginal sex, oral sex (m to f), fingering, d/s dynamics, possessive/dirty talk, light bondage, drinking, dangerous use of Shakespeare, Anthony’s gonna need to rebaize that billiards table.
word count: 3.6k
author note: Not betaed. I haven’t written anything in years and this may be riddled with anachronisms, sorry. It also turned out less explicit and more romantic than I thought it would *shrugs*. The swaggering, cigar smoking, whiskey drinking Benedict from Anthony’s stag night, is the inspiration for this fic. Especially that cravat. The title of ‘my lord’ used here is part of their d/s play.
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Benedict Bridgerton is missing. It has to be after 1 AM, probably later. You’ve woken to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Throwing on a robe and lighting a candle, you head down the backstairs of Bridgerton House. Keen not to disturb anyone but eager to find your errant husband. You’re visiting his family for the week, and tonight the brothers were celebrating their reunion.
You round a corner into the main hallway, then stop short. A drunken Colin is staggering slowly up the grand staircase, falling back almost as many steps as he advances. You bite back a giggle as he eventually stumbles onto his hands and knees, crawling the remainder of the steps. It must’ve been one hell of a Bridgerton boys' night.
Passing Anthony’s study, you’re surprised to see the door wide open. A quick peek reveals the Viscount passed out, head down on his desk. Light snores puffing condensation onto an empty tumbler in front of his nose, his hand still loosely wrapped around it - another casualty of the night's celebrations.
Still no sign of the one brother you are seeking. 
You slip silently down the hallway and into the billiards room you know they had been carousing in. The room is quiet, dimly lit by only a handful of candles. There is a lingering scent of cigars and expensive alcohol. Billiard cues lean haphazardly against disarranged chairs. Quite a party, it would appear.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice makes you gasp.
Benedict.
You hadn’t seen him in the shadows. He leans forward in a chair, the low candlelight now catching his face, a bemused expression tugging at his handsome features. He looks alluring with his sleeves rolled up, a glass held casually in one large hand.
“The bed is cold without you, darling husband”, you chide affectionately, snuffing out your candle and placing it aside.
“I’m so sorry, my love. I was about to come up. Can you believe my brothers don’t have the stamina to celebrate properly?“ he quips, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Care to join me for a nightcap?” He adds, nodding at the decanter on the side table next to him. 
Without waiting for an answer, Benedict pours a glass for you and tops up his own. He knows you enjoy a quality whiskey when it’s on offer. And the Bridgertons always have excellent whiskey. 
He holds out the glass expectantly, beckoning you over. You move forward and take the drink, straddling his legs and lowering yourself onto his knees with a gentle smile. Benedict responds with his crooked smile, which always catches your breath. His free hand rests lightly on your robe-covered thigh as you take a sip. Smokey, almost caramel notes glide over your tongue. Oh yes, this is the good stuff. You can’t help the hum of satisfaction at the taste.
He raises his eyebrow before taking a slow, deliberate draw himself. He’s slightly inebriated but only enough to be playful. You wonder how he has held his liquor so much better than his brothers. Surely some strategy. You finish your drink lazily, feeling content just perched in his lap.
“We have never spent time here alone”, he rumbles quietly, glancing at the door. His hand becomes a firmer touch. From the slight glint in his eye, you can tell that his thoughts are turning intimate. It’s still surprising that just a few suggestive words have you wanting him. The feeling is so sharp and sudden. 
“Indeed we have not”, you murmur, leaning to place your empty glass aside and take his glass to do the same. Your mind flashes an image of you stripping bare for him in this very room. It’s the catalyst to push further into his lap and grab his face, locking your lips onto his. He tastes like cigars and the smoky sweetness of the drink - a delicious combination. You can’t help but deepen the kiss, running your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his slight groan. His hands move to grip your hips and pull you closer.
“Remind me to buy a whole case of this whiskey”, he smirks, trailing his lips down the side of your neck. You reach up into his hair and tug gently; it never fails to make him a little rougher in his ministrations.
“Clearly, I have been neglectful this evening”, he mutters against your collarbone using a slight edge of teeth. Oh yes.
“Please”, you whisper hotly, bringing his face back to yours for a bruising kiss. You hope he can read what you’re asking for.
His hands move, and you feel his thighs flex as he stands. You wrap your legs around him as he carries you a few steps across the room. It seems like no effort for him; the power in his athletic body never fails to impress you.
“Please, what?” He teases as he gently sets you down on the end of the billiards table.
“Talk to me”, you demure, not meeting his eye. Your hands move to release the buttons on his waistcoat. 
Benedict lets out a chuckle. “I rather think I’ve said more than you tonight”, his fingers gently tugging the ties of your robe.
“No, I mean… talk to me…. the way you did last week” you feel your cheeks burn as you finally dare to look him in the eye. You see them grow darker, and his nostrils flare. Now he’s catching on. He yanks off the waistcoat you have unbuttoned, then cups your face with both his hands.
“Oh, what did I do to deserve you?” He wonders with a hint of awe, giving you a brief gentle kiss. 
Before his whole demeanour changes. 
You feel a ripple of excitement in your belly as he sweeps a thumb up to your lips. His grip on your jaw becomes a little tighter.
“Tell me,” he drawls, “just how lonely were you up in that bed, wife?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Did you touch yourself?” 
You shake your head as best you can, with his hands around your face.
“Good girl” He looms closer, and you have to brace your hands onto the smooth felt of the billiards table behind you. 
“Although, clearly not that good”, he tuts, “coming to me so wantonly. And in my brother's house. Anyone could walk in right now. There’s no lock on that door. Is that what you want? To have my brothers watch as I take you right here?” You whimper at the images he concocts.
His thumb hooks into your mouth, and instinctively you pulse your tongue against it. He growls as you catch it gently with your teeth. He releases his grip and takes a half step back.
“Show me yourself. All of you,” he commands.
This. This is why you crave him so much. He can intuit your deepest desires. 
You scramble off the table and quickly wrestle off your robe and nightgown, letting them fall to the floor. You love the sharp intake of breath he takes as you obey. He drops his eyes covetously to take in the sight of you completely nude before him, flexing his fingers. The sinful gaze has you throbbing already. 
“Get back up on the table” his words are a harsh staccato. You do as ordered, sitting in the same position as before, perching on the raised edge of the billiards table. He pulls your knees up and apart, stepping between your legs. His kiss is urgent and deep, his tongue pushing and rolling into your mouth. One of his hands is in your hair, guiding your head to angles he wants. The other kneads at your breasts, snagging your nipples between his fingers. It’s possessive; the excitement buzzes right down into your core.
He grabs both your wrists, running his nose over your pulse points before bringing them together in front of you like you’re in prayer. “Hold right there, don’t move.”
You watch as he pulls roughly on the knot of his cravat. He hastily unwinds the material until it slips away from his neck — the golden silk glinting in the low light. You gasp as he loops the long strip of fabric around your wrists. Loose at first, then pulls tighter as he ties the ends in a bow. The material is soft but unyielding. 
This is something new. You peek up at his expression; there is a hunger but also a questioning vulnerability.
“My lord“, you exhale. It’s your permission for his silent request to continue.
“You are so perfect”, he groans, diving in for another hard kiss before pulling your tied hands above your head. He lowers you gently until your shoulder blades are resting against the green felt of Anthony’s billiards table. If only he knew what his younger brother was doing right now.
“Stay there. Do not move until I allow it; keep your arms above your head”, Benedict warns.
He hovers over your prone body. The material of his britches brushing lightly against your open thighs is the only contact you have. You squirm, needing him to touch you somewhere. Anywhere. Instead, he uses his words.
“Look at you, Mrs Bridgerton. I can see how desperate you are for me to touch you.” He inhales deeply, “I can smell your need for me. This is how I want you. Always.” His voice seems impossibly low.
“Benedict…” you pant. 
“I want to keep you like this for hours. Naked, at my mercy. Bound in my silks. My muse, my masterpiece.” His speech ghosts air over your skin; this is a special kind of torture.
Finally, he leans down the last few inches separating you and captures your right nipple between his teeth. Your cry is guttural, and he holds your hip bones down harshly as you try to cant up, seeking friction. He soothes the bite with his tongue. He attacks your other nipple with the same fervency. You are so aroused there’s an ache tugging like a hook deep inside. 
“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you chant, knowing that crude word he taught you will rile him. You need him now.
He groans at your curse but says nothing in response. He drags his mouth slowly and sinfully over your rib cage and stomach. Pausing to swirl his tongue around your belly button, he continues down. You hear his knees sink to the floor as his nose trails into your pubic hair. He breathes deep, animalistic, and so so wanted. He drops lower and licks a sharp line through your folds. You cry out, closing your eyes and tilting your head back to bite at the binding on your wrists. 
“Don’t,” he growls. You snap your head back, looking down your body to his face between your thighs. “Don’t you dare look away,” he lightly bites the meat of your thigh, “watch me do this.”
He hauls your legs over his shoulders. One strong arm wraps around your left hip, his hand resting low on your belly. He holds your gaze fiercely as he swirls his tongue slowly around your clit and then applies gentle suction with his whole mouth. By god, he is so good at this. He languidly takes his time, running his tongue all over, varying pressure, pulses, kisses and even little nips against your heated flesh. He never lets you break eye contact. If you try, he stops, and you whine for more. He sucks hard and takes you to the edge, then backs off to gentle kisses, not letting you over. Your whole body burns with anticipation.
“Have mercy,” you breathe.
Two of his long artistic fingers plunge into you. You cry out at the invasion, clenching down on them. He quickly locates that spot which makes you lose all sense. He rapidly strokes, his other hand bearing pressure on the same area from the outside, curled around your public bone. He glows with primal satisfaction as you scream open-mouthed with every stroke.
“Yes, my love, scream for me” his voice is ragged and muffled against your skin “you are so beautiful like this. Wake the whole house; I don’t care. My good girl, mine .” 
He runs his teeth against your clit, and it sends you over the edge, calling his name. He holds your hips firmly open as your body spasms, his strength fighting against your bodily urge to close your legs and curl up against the convulsions. He gently kisses your overheated soaked folds as you slowly come down.  
Benedict stands up smugly, peeling down his braces, watching your body shiver with mini aftershocks, admiring the whimpering soaked mess he has made of you. He quickly removes his shirt while rounding the other end of the furniture. Just as you come back to yourself, strong hands grab under your shoulders. You gasp loudly as he hauls you bodily to the centre of the billiards table. He can be so strong and overpowering when he wants to be. He leans down and kisses you softly to calm your surprise, stopping to marvel at the view down your body, sprawled naked across the green felt, your hands still bound above your head. 
Wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself around his body, you stay lying obediently, just as he had ordered you to. Your eyes track his movement as he stalks back around the table, admiring the flex of his now shirtless torso. It's probably considered scandalous for a lady of good society to be so enamoured with their husband’s body, but you revel in it. He is a beautiful man you have coveted since the day you first saw him. Whenever you have no social commitments to fulfil, at your sanctuary out in the country, your home, you will spend hours wrapped naked around each other, just luxuriating in the pursuit of sensual pleasures and mutual satisfaction. Those are your favourite days. 
A hand encircles your ankle, shaking you from your brief reverie. 
“I hope you were thinking of me,” he smiles indulgently, the sweet husband breaking past the dominating mask you love that he wears for you sometimes, like tonight.
“Always,” you reply, as easy and truthful as breathing.
After a shared moment, his expression turns sinful as he starts to flick open the buttons of his britches one-handed. You watch covetously, wishing you had permission to get up, to use your hands. To reach out and touch him, help him disrobe. 
“I want to touch you”, you whisper plaintively, voicing your thoughts as you watch.
“I know you do, my love”, he smirks, “but not tonight. Tonight you do as I say. You watch me.” You moan as he drops that last piece of clothing from his body. His cock is so perfect and beautiful, standing proud against his body. You want nothing more than to fall on your knees before him and take him into your mouth. He knows he is denying you one of your favourite things by making you lay passively waiting for him. He effortlessly mounts the billiards table, stalking slowly over you on all fours, like a big cat rounds on its prey.
“If only the world could see you now,” he purrs, “my demure wife begging to touch me. You are doing so well, my good girl, not moving those hands, even though I know how much you burn to,” he teases hotly, making sure you look down and watch as he grabs and strokes his hard cock to prove his point. Your breath is so uneven now you can barely make a sound except a pitiful whine. He bows down and kisses your breasts, running his tongue up to your throat, softly biting your earlobe. 
“Please, please….” for what seems like the hundredth time, he has you pleading.
Slowly he lowers his body onto yours. The feeling of his weight, the woodsy masculine scent, all his heated skin finally upon yours overwhelms. Your hands itch to move, grab, hold him in place, but you fight it and obey.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are in your submission? It’s like poetry.” he breathes into your neck.
He reaches down to push your legs wider apart. You press your hips and breasts up hard against him, chasing all the touch you can. You feel him nudging at you and almost want to weep in relief. The moment he pushes into your body is everything—the solid weight stretching you, curling your toes. You let out a long keening sound, shutting your eyes to concentrate on the heavy sensation.
“Look at me”, he orders as he inches in further. Your eyes flutter open to meet his. They are blown wide with lust and devotion. One hand cups your jaw.
“Haply I think on thee…” his voice cadence changes; it’s a gentle lilting sound. His eyes don't leave yours as he bottoms out inside you. 
“…and then my state, like to the lark at break of day….” he slowly withdraws almost all the way. You realise faintly he is reciting actual poetry. A sonnet….? 
“From sullen earth sings hymns…,” His beautiful words settle over you, sinking into your thoughts, heightening every feeling. He kisses you deeply, his tongue invading your mouth as you feel every inch of him slowly push back into you, dragging along all the right spots.
“At heaven’s gate….” he slowly increases the pace and strength of his thrusts, peppering your face with kisses. You moan threadily, pushing your body up against his, kissing wherever you can, twisting your hands against their binding, snagging in your hair.
“Oh god, Benedict”, it’s a plea for more, everything. The hand on your jaw moves, and he traces your lips with his thumb. As he looks down on you, a sheen forming on his brow, you fiercely wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard on the fleshy pad. He growls and thrusts into you harder, deeper. You feel yourself climbing as he hits that spot repeatedly, the one that makes you feel electric, a live wire of pure lust. You desperately want to grab his hips, impale him so deep he can't leave your body. 
“For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings….” His voice is wavering now. He hooks both arms under your shoulders and rests his forehead on yours, never breaking eye contact as you both pants heavily into each other's open mouths. He’s taking you so hard, hitting that place where it hurts so good with every stroke. You beg for more, wanting to feel this ache lingering tomorrow, a physical reminder of this, of him, you will carry secretly. 
“That then I scorn to change my state with kings.” His voice breaks into a long groan as he finishes his sonnet. Without stopping his movements, he reaches one hand up and, with an expert tug, releases the knot binding your wrists. You sob a relief and instantly move, wrapping your arms tight around him, clinging to him, digging your nails into his back muscles, cresting your legs high around his hips. Your desire coiled tight.
“Please, my love,” he implores needily, “please come for me; I need to feel it.” The brash character he played for you earlier slipping away; it's just Benedict. Your husband, the love of your life. He moves one hand down to your clit and rubs tight circles. You know you are crying out loudly now, uncaring of anyone overhearing you. 
Your orgasm hits you hard like a blinding light, fracturing and reassembling. Liquid hot and throbbing everywhere, from the static on the back of your head, through the fingers you are scraping over your husband's back, to the waves of wet warmth where you pulsate with a vice grip around his cock. You hear Benedict roar your name, losing all sense of finesse in his movements, and in your heightened state, you hiss encouragements, a litany of things you would never admit to saying, sucking the fingers he had between your legs. He snaps, stilling suddenly, his slack mouth hooked onto your chin. The feeling of him coming is visceral. He curls his body in and around you, still pulsing hard inside you, its warmth spreading.
“Fuckkk, I love you”, he curses, panting hard, not wanting to pull out.
“I fucking love you too,” you counter lightheartedly, revelling in the use of taboo vulgarities, still intoxicated by your high. You bask in his responding laughter, feeling it inside too as he slowly pulls out of your body. He plants a kiss on your forehead, still chuckling deeply.
You lay limbs tangled for more than a few minutes, getting your breath back and enjoying the afterglow. Gently Benedict helps you climb off the billiards table and assists you into your nightgown and robe. Unseen by him, you pocket his cravat, your souvenir. He pulls up his britches, looping the braces over his shoulders, barechested, grabbing the rest of his clothing and bundling them over his arm. He grabs your hand, gives it a tender kiss and guides you out of the room into the hallway.
Straight into the path of Anthony. Arms crossed, looking foreboding and much soberer than last time you saw him. However, there is an intense blush on his cheeks. He scowls at Benedict, but he won't look you in the eye.
“Brother, I suggest next time you feel the need to exercise your… spousal duties, kindly consider exactly where the secret door from my office leads to”, he hisses. “And check it’s actually closed.” 
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tagged by request: @mothdruid @foreverlonginguniverse
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h-c-u · 1 year
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Summary: Hangman has a huge and unprocessed mommy kink, but he's too afraid to ask for it directly. Fortunately, happy accidents happen.
Pairing: dom!Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x switch!fem!reader x sub!Jake "Hangman" Seresin
W/C: 8.6k
Rating: +18, voyeurism, dirty talk, praise kink, threesome, marking, dom/sub, oral sex, anal sex, double penetration, rank king, mommy kink, a sprinkle of a breeding kink
TWs: Mentions of regular bodily fluids that are present during adult encounters
A/N: I blacked out, honestly and it just appeared in my file. The reader here is very comfortable with her sexuality and doesn't give a fuck about what anyone else thinks. Even though there is a clear dom/sub dynamic, dom is definitely of the 'pleasure' kind. Age of the reader is not stated, but I've intended for her to be around Hangman's age. Also, I know that on the gif Mav is young, but the fic he's definitely  not, but I just didn't have the energy to find a more fitting one... Maybe later.
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You were never that much into committed relationships, and honestly, you kind of view them as selfish and narcissistic... The conviction that you'll be able to satisfy your partner in every area of your life, and expect the same from them, sounded exhausting, especially with different love languages and full-time jobs. That's why when you discovered that something like polyamory and open relationships existed, you jumped on that train immediately. It was something that fit extremely neatly into the life you've made for yourself here. People came and went, some stayed for a time and then left, some were always there, but sometimes closer and sometimes further away. And somehow your needs were always met and you did your best to give your partners a safe space to relax and forget everything that was happening outside of your studio.
It was as if you were the Sun... A center of the galaxy, with planets circulating around you at different distances, and with comets sometimes entering your peripheral. You were there to warm them, to give them energy, and they kept you company; a perfect exchange. 
That's why when you heard that some of the old familiar faces would be coming back to the academy, your plans for the afternoon immediately changed. It didn't take you long to get ready, and you even managed to squeeze in a thorough shower. You chose a loose yellow sundress which for once wasn't covered in paint drops. Or maybe at this point, you just stopped seeing them everywhere...? 
As soon as you got into Hard Deck's parking lot, you were swept into the strong arms of the naval aviators, who patiently took their sweet turns greeting you. All of the interested people knew exactly what was needed and expected while entering your orbit, and they either could say yes or no; you would never pressure someone into something they were uncomfortable with. But with pilots - or rather soldiers overall - with all their deployments, training, sudden moves... A lot of them enjoyed the simplicity of someone who cared about them without feeling guilty about leaving you alone. Plus some of them REALLY made up for their long absences in your life when they finally started orbiting closer. 
After grabbing a beer from Penny and playing some billiards, Jake was the first one to sweep you away, which was not that surprising, because that man was needy as a newborn kitten when given a safe space. That's why you were currently laying in the backseat of your car, one leg over his shoulder and the other seeking support on the car floor. He was kneeling on the outside; one of his arms tightly wrapped around your thigh, pulling you even stronger into his tongue. And the things he did with his tongue... divine... he already made you come once, and now he was alternating his attention between stimulating that bundle of nerves on the outside, sucking on your lips and biting them gently from time to time, submerging his tongue between your folds as deep as he could, barely reaching that sweet spot inside while his nose was crushing your clit and leaving hickeys on the inside of both of your thighs... If you didn't know he's a pilot, you would have had to guess that he's a marine, because the time he could go without taking a breath was truely impressive. 
It was hard for you to keep quiet, but fortunately singing from the pub drowned most of the louder ones. You knew that something like that might happen even before you got ready, that's why you've parked almost behind the bar, with the passenger door facing the wall, so even if someone somehow took a stroll in the cool air of the evening to sober up, they wouldn't be able to spot anything that was happening inside of the car. What you didn't predict was the fact that someone would unceremoniously open the other door, but fortunately, you knew that face as well. 
- Hi PeEEHEEeeet... - your inhale mixed with a loud moan when Jake sucked harder on your clit, looking up. - Don't you dare stop. - you've said harshly when you felt that he slowly started to move away from you. He immediately stopped in his tracks, but he was still unsure. 
- You've heard the lady... - Mav said with a cheeky smile, and it was enough for Jake to dive right in, forcing small gasps and moans from your mouth. - Hi princess... - the older man squatted in front of your face, took his aviators off, and kissed you hungrily, which was not an easy endeavor for either of you because you were basically upside down. - Slow down, Seresin... Enjoy her... - he instructed the younger man, and Jake immediately followed his instructions. Pete was able to tell what you needed and what was being done to you, just by looking at your expression and listening to the sounds you made. After all, he spent hundreds of hours studying every inch of your body in the past. - How's he doing...? - Mav asked, his gaze still intently focused on your face. 
- He's being such a good boy... - you whispered, reaching back over your head, and placing your hand on the back of his neck. - So obedient... So eager to please... - you continued praising the man between your legs loud enough that he wouldn't have trouble hearing you and that worked as intended because even if he didn't pick up speed, the force of his movement increased, squeezing a loud moan from your mouth and Pete was right there to drink it directly from your lips. 
- If only he was such a good boy during exercises... - you knew that tone well, and it did fit perfectly in this growing dynamic. - Do you think he deserves to feast on you...? - you couldn't help but smile when he said it directly to your ear, his forehead resting on your cheek. 
- He's been good to me today... Captain... - Pete growled and bit your earbud, while Jake was doing his best to get you closer to orgasm without increasing the tempo because the dynamic indeed shifted, and he was surprised to find himself in this new role with his cock stiffer than it ever was. 
- Faster, Seresin, make our princess come... And you... Again... - that was enough for the younger man to speed up as if his life depended on it. He moved his tongue so quickly that you could have sworn it was vibrating against you, and the added pressure from his nose on your clit was just enough for you to forget how many people were near. You knew that Mav asked you to do something, but it took you a second to process it with Jake slurping your juices with a passion. 
- Yes, captain, I think he deserves that... - you whispered. It didn't matter that you were in the parking lot of a local bar; the intimacy tightened between you two, and all he did was rub your foreheads and cheeks together, wanting to be as close to you as possible when you'll finally reach the peak, and you were getting there faster and faster with Jake's every move. It was easy to lose yourself in the moment mostly filled with loud, heavy breathing and your soft moans against Maverick's stubble. 
It wasn't long before your heel dug deeper into Jake's back, trying to pull him even closer, but in such a tight space, it was simply impossible. At the same time your back arched and your fingernails dug deep into Pete's neck. You've registered that he said something to Jake, who was slowly cleaning your juices with a huge smile on his face. 
- There you go, princess... - Pete placed a soft kiss on your forehead and started to pull away, but your hand didn't allow that. You still needed him close to come down from that high... Your breath was heavy, and your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. 
- That was hot... - you've finally whispered, your pussy still twitching from time to time, with Jake cleaning it with short, gentle licks. Not enough to stimulate, yet still incredibly intimate. - Thank you, Jakey... You did really well... He did, didn't he...? - the last part was directed to Mav, who smiled devilishly. 
- He did... He made you moan so prettily, princess... - you saw the younger man's eyes melt a little bit. - And you've said he did it twice...? Mmmm... That might even deserve a reward, what do you say...? - Pete just knew you two were on the same page because it wasn't your first rodeo with someone else, but Jake... 
- I agree... - you smiled, getting up just a little bit, supporting yourself with elbows against the backseat, and Maverick's face was just next to yours. You both looked at Lieutenant who was still in between your thighs, unsure what else was allowed. - Do you want to get a reward, love...? - corners of your lips curved in a devilish smile. There was a second of hesitation on Hangman's face. 
- Yes, I would like that very much, ma'am. - he finally said with confidence; it was still there, just stripped from all the usual cockiness and arrogance. Both you and Mav smiled at this sweet boy, who just needed... well, to be needed. 
- Well, gentlemen, I'm too fuck out to drive... The keys are in the ignition. 
- I'll drive... - Mav said almost immediately. - Seresin, upfront. - it was perfect that way, because you technically didn't even have to change positions, and you could rest, if only for a bit, but you would definitely need it before the rest of the night. 
Getting to your apartment didn't take long, and when you got there, Mav shot you a questioning look, and you replied as wordlessly as he asked. You wouldn't mind if he helped you, but there was someone who needed it more.
- Jake, be a dear and come help me get out... - you said with a smile, and he just materialized next to the open door, grabbed your extended arms, and pulled you up. Without saying a word he grabbed your sandals from the car floor and gently slipped them onto your feet. It was a bit weird seeing him so quiet, but you suspected that he was still processing his emotion. - You know that we can stop at any time, right...? - you knew that he knew that. Sometimes hearing that reassurance out loud was needed, but in this case, he only nodded and helped you get out of the car. You suspected that if you didn't grab his arm, he would sheepishly follow you to your apartment. It was on the top of the old building without an elevator, but you wouldn't change it for anything else. It was the tallest building in the small town with two walls made completely out of giant windows. Someone in the past compared it to an aquarium, but with a one-way foil strategically placed on the glass, you weren't afraid that someone would peek inside. Besides - because of the angles - they would have to be on the other tall building, and entry there was restricted. So your whole apartment was basically a sunroom with plenty of plants. 
- Right... First - shower... - you decided. Technically you knew that this effort will be ruined during further activities, but you'd much rather lick a skin that didn't taste like alcohol and cigarettes. - Jake, do you want Mav to wash your hair...? - he froze like a deer in headlights, but he honestly contemplated the answer and looked at his captain unsure what his answer should be, and how the older man will react, but Maverick only smiled gently. 
- It's your decision... - he said softly. Theoretically, the situation here should be uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing, but somehow... it just wasn't. Sure, it definitely required some getting used to, but this was a safe space to explore anything that needed to be explored. 
- Yes, please... - if you were taller, you would place a kiss on his temple, but instead, you pressed your cheek against his bicep. 
- I'll get everything ready and join you in a moment... - Jake went into your bathroom first, but before Mav followed, you grabbed his wrist and whispered. - Be super gentle, I've never seen him so deep into his subspace, ok...? - you didn't have to explain exactly why exactly Jake went there so easily, because your request was enough for Mav to follow it to a dot. He nodded once and went to the bathroom, leaving the door open. 
You sighed quietly and smiled just a little. You knew how intense the rest of the night will be, both physically and emotionally, so ahead of time you prepared water to drink, hid a few chocolate bars and wet wipes in the nightstand, got fresh towels from the closet, and finally headed to the bathroom, where Pete was finishing rinsing the rest of the shampoo from Jake's hair. 
You placed the towels on the washing machine, undressed, and joined them both under the hot stream of water. The shower was almost bigger than your bathtub, but it was designed especially for you - you wanted a place where you could lie down and feel the water fall onto your whole body from the ceiling, simulating rain, which was incomparable to anything, especially during hot summers. You turned that option on the dial and allowed the water to cover your body. 
- Do you want to wash our princess, Jake? - Maverick asked, and Jake nodded enthusiastically. It was so nice to be pampered from time to time, and tonight you were getting it all. Your muscles were relaxed to a point of mush, you've had two gorgeous men in the shower with you, and the night ahead... You simply couldn't wait. 
You leaned against Pete's body behind you, allowing the younger man to gently wash first your arms, then your breasts, and when he focused just a little bit too much on your nipples, you sighed while Mav just let a soft "tsk, tsk, tsk...". 
- Captain, I thought we've established that Jakey deserves a reward... - there was a huge smile beaming on your face, even though the lieutenant moved from your breasts as soon as Mav disapproved. 
- Indeed... So the sooner we'll get out of the shower, the sooner he'll get it... - Pete laughed against your neck, not even trying to hide the fact that his cock twitched as soon as you called him 'captain'; you both knew exactly which strings to pull, to get a desired melody from each other, but that's just what almost 8 years on and off will do to you. - So please, love, hurry up... - it was hard not to notice the giant blush that flowered on a younger man's face when Mav used a pet name. You suspected that for a few days, their relationship in Top Gun might just be a little tense, and you would lie if you said you didn't want to see that happening. 
But he indeed hurried up, carefully washing your abdomen and still sensitive pussy. He was careful not to lose himself in you this time, and it wasn't long before he was scrubbing your feet while kneeling on the floor in front of you. 
- Look how well-behaved and thorough he is... - you cooed, pressing your cheek into Mav's shoulder. He was holding you tightly, so you wouldn't slip standing only on one foot. - Such a sweet boy we have here... - There was a shadow of a smile on Jake's face, for the first time in a good moment; he was slowly getting more comfortable, accepting that he needed something entirely different. And watching him come to terms with that was... just something else. And you knew that Pete also caught it because he hummed in agreement. 
- Come here, love... - Hangman was sitting on his heels when you said that, but he rose up a bit, to meet you in the middle when you leaned down to kiss him softly, holding your hand under his chin. It was different, kissing him now. Usually, he was hungrily devouring everything you were giving him, but now... he was much more gentle, letting you completely control the intensity and speed because he was confident that you will give him exactly what he needed. 
Mavs hands gently squeezed your hips, letting you know, he'll be turning off the water, since all of you were clean. One of the things you loved about your relationship with Pete was how seamlessly you communicated without words. He wasn't the only one, but it was definitely nice to have someone who understood and anticipated your moves, because everything you did together became a dance, and right now you had someone joining your pair because Jake was quickly catching up. You put just a little bit of pressure under his chin, letting him know, he can get up now, and he did. You took your time drying his body with a fresh towel, spending an absurd amount of time on his hair because he seemed to melt whenever you did anything near them, so he was kneeling again in front of you again, apparently really comfortable with that dynamic, while you were gently massaging his scalp through the soft material. He was so lost in that sensation, that he tilted his head back and rest it on your belly. 
You were happy that he felt safe in your company to give in to what he needed deep in his heart, but at the same time, you couldn't help feeling sad, because it was painfully obvious that there was no one in his life that was giving that to him. 
When you've finished, you placed a small kiss on his forehead to which he reacted with a smile; it was nice to see him settling in. 
- Bed...? - you didn't have to ask, but yet you still did, trying to maintain just a little bit of structure. You saw Jake hesitating before he got up and you knew just what he needed. - Do you want to be a good boy and crawl to bed...? - you asked, but you already knew the answer, even before he nodded. - Go on then...! - you encouraged him and he slowly leaned forwards, exposing his backside to the both of you, and slowly, a little bit unsure started going on all fours to your bedroom.
- Did you...? - you quietly asked Mav when Jake disappeared around the corner because you weren't sure if you saw what you thought you saw.
- Didn't have to, he was already prepped. - this time you growled deeply. - Maybe he thought mommy would peg him tonight and got all nice, stretched out, and clean, just for you...? - Mav teased and bit you harshly on the shoulder forcing a small gasp from your mouth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but not hard enough to break the skin. Seeing how Jake behaved... It wasn't that much out of the realm of possibility. And you were sad that you didn't catch it earlier. 
- Let's not keep him waiting. - you smiled, harshly pulling Pete away from your skin by his damp hair. You knew that there will be a bruise there tomorrow, but you definitely didn't mind that. - And you better behave, because if not... Well... Let's just say that mommy might come up with something you wouldn't be exactly happy with. - you easily played into his comment. Without releasing his hair from your fist, you playfully snapped at him with your teeth, as if you wanted to bite him, but for you, it was more of a game than anything else. You didn't mind being covered in hickeys and bitemarks, but you personally preferred to leave other types of marks. 
It was really easy to fall back into the relationship you had with Maverick, even if you haven't seen each other for over a year now, but with the right people - you just worked like that, as if no time had passed. 
When you came to your bedroom, Jake was patiently kneeling in front of your bed, with his legs spread and hands behind his back, as if not entirely sure if he was allowed on the bed. He was so polite, almost as if someone in the past trained him well. 
- So good for us... - you praised him with a soft voice, and his posture immediately changed. He wasn't unsure, shoulders slumped; he straightened up and puffed his chest and of course his smile... It was really nice seeing it reach his eyes this time. - Perfect little boy, even when he knows he's already earned a reward... - you added, closing the distance between you and taking his face in between your hands. Mav also got closer and got onto the giant mattress first. He positioned himself right next to the headboard and you knew the exact position he had in mind. It was going to require some work, but it will definitely be worth it. 
You kissed Jake gently, turned both of you around, and pulled him onto the bed with you. You slowly moved backward until you felt a warm body welcoming you from behind. 
- So hungry for your taste, princess... Do you think he wants to taste your delicious juices again...? - Mav said, pulling you just a little bit higher. He also hooked his ankles under your knees and spread them just a little bit more. 
- I'm not sure I'd be up for anything else after that. - you laughed quietly in between your kisses. 
- But he's been so good, such a perfect sweet boy... You've said it yourself... - he teased and his warm breath danced on the back of your neck. - You can go lower if you want to, love... - but before he did, the younger man stopped and looked at you, silently looking for your permission as well, which you gave with a single nod, and it wasn't long before he was focusing all of his attention on your nipples. - Even when he should be the one being pampered, he still focuses on you... - Maverick almost purred, intensely observing how your skin stretched when Jake sucked on one of your nipples a bit harder. - Tell me how it feels, princess... - a simple request, but apparently it did something to Jake because suddenly he started working his tongue even faster as if he wanted to prove something to both of you. 
- It feels really good, captain... - you've reached with one of your hands behind you, placing it on Pete's neck, pulling it closer, while your other hand found its way into Hangman's hair. - He's quickly circling the top with his tongue, and when he sucks it a bit more, my pussy clenches... - you described what was happening to your body, even though the older man already knew how it reacted, but he just love to hear it from your own mouth, especially with the soft gasps interwoven with your words. 
- Bite on it gently and pull it with your teeth, love... - the request was followed immediately this time, forcing a loud moan from between your lips. - You hear that, love...? Mommy here enjoys it a bit rougher in that area, so don't be afraid to give it to her... - he advised, and you looked at Jake, curious how he'll react. He stumbled for a second, the word catching him by surprise so much, that he released your nipples. But before either of you was able to add anything more, he dove right back in, with even more ferocity... Sucking, stretching, biting, pulling, and abusing your nipples so much that you were melting into the body behind you. You could feel how wet you were getting from all that stimulation and all your moans were somehow motivating Jake even more. - Such an eager boy, doing his best to please mommy... - your fingers dug into Mav's skin after a particularly hard suck, and you were almost sure that you drew blood this time, but you couldn't help it, your body reacted without your permission. 
- Stop. - Pete said abruptly and Jake indeed stopped, even though you knew he didn't exactly want to, but the need to please was much stronger. - Look at her, really look at her... - a simple request, and you smiled widely seeing how Jake was hungrily devouring you with his eyes. - See how quickly and deeply she's breathing...? That means you did a good job and got her all ready and flustered. It also means that mommy is ready for more... Are you ready for more, love...? - he asked, gently rubbing his cheek on your head, and you just gave into that; your muscles were slowly turning into mush again; you needed a moment to collect your thoughts, but Jake was already nodding enthusiastically. - Gently spread her pussy and dip your finger in... See how wet you've made her... - when you felt his soft touch, you couldn't help but twitch, and if Pete's legs weren't holding your own, you would definitely hook them behind Jake. Your reaction drew a deep hum from Mav's chest and you could feel almost vibrating behind you. 
- Now take your cock in your hand, and slide just the tip through her folds... Spread her juices all over you, but no dipping yet. - now that was just cruel. Not for any of the men, but for you... Because when Jake's dick was sliding in between your lips, it also stimulated your clit, drawing a sweet whimper from you with every slide. 
- You're doing soooooo good, love... - you've said in between deep breaths, your voice containing more air than actual soundwaves. - So good for mommy... - it was extremely easy to lose yourself in all the pleasure he was giving you, and even if you didn't share that specific kink, you definitely didn't mind accommodating his needs.  And that was enough for him... Hearing Mav calling you that was one thing, but hearing the word from your own mouth was something else and it sent him into a frenzy. 
He slammed into you with one sweep move, not caring that he technically didn't get permission to do so from either of you. He was chasing something primal, something he couldn't quite describe. His left hand dug deep into your hip and he leaned forward, hooking his right arm around your shoulder to find more leverage because he just had to be as deep inside you as possible. With every move, he dragged along that sweet spot inside you, drawing moan after moan from your lips and making you arch into his body, not leaving any space between you two, and by doing so, you got a bit further away from Pete, but his legs were still holding yours spread open, allowing Jake to do whatever he needed to you. 
Pete started slowly stroking his cock, observing the two of you with intensity, analyzing your every move, and making himself remember every moan, every twitch, every gasp that you shared. But at the moment, you truly didn't give a fuck what he was doing, because that beautiful boy was disassembling you into smaller and smaller pieces, but you knew you could cum just yet... You had to give him one more thing... 
- Cum in me, baby boy... Fill mommy to the brim... - You put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and allowing him to suck on your skin again. You've felt his moves become more erratic, more desperate with every second until he finally slammed into you one last time and bit your skin so hard that tears appeared involuntarily in the corners of your eyes. You did your best not to yelp from the pain, your own release getting further away, but that wasn't important, not now. 
You were gently playing with his hair allowing him to ride his own orgasm to the fullest, with his face still buried in your breasts. You were hugging him when you felt his body starting to shake, which he tried to hide from you. 
- None of that, sweet boy... - you've said, pulling his face away from your body and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His own were filled with tears and he held you so strongly in his arms as if he was afraid that you'd disintegrate if he won't be crushing you. - You were so good, and I'm not going anywhere... I could never leave you... - you placed a soft kiss on his forehead and pulled him closer to your chest again. 
Pete put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you back, so you could lean on him again. It was hard not to notice how hard he was, but now there was no time for that and both of you knew it. Jake eventually had to work through that trauma and currently, there was nothing more important than that, so you allowed yourself to melt into Pete's body again, with the younger man still buried deep inside you. But you didn't mind that one bit and started whispering sweet nothings into his ear, while Mav gently massaged your shoulders.
It took some time, but Jake finally started to calm down, with your arms still embracing him and rubbing the skin on his back. His quiet sobs stopped and he relaxed in your arms a little bit.
- 'msorry... - he finally whispered, when he realized how hard he bit you. His voice was deep and raspy from all the crying. There was already a deep crimson mark forming on your skin. He softly traced it with his tongue and gently blew on it, trying to ease the pain with cold.
- Now none of that, love... - you've said and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head.
- No, I bit too hard... I should have controlled myself better. - his voice was dripping with guilt. 
- It's ok... You were processing something and I'm happy I was able to be here for you... - you reassured him, still gently rubbing his back. - And just so we're clear - I'm not going anywhere, you understand...? - you forced him to look you in the eyes and he finally nodded. You didn't know if he was dealing with losing someone, or maybe being abandoned, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that he had a safe space to release his bottled-up emotions. - You're good, we're all good... - you continued whispering when you felt Mav humming in agreement from behind you. - And take all the time you need, we don't have to do anything else tonight, I know how exhausting that type of emotional release can be. - you were glad he became verbal again but hearing him blaming himself for basically allowing himself to feel strong emotions was... heartbreaking.
Mav finally unhooked his legs from under yours, and you felt him reaching for something, and then you heard a sound of a bottle opening, and you were so grateful to have him here with you tonight. He handed you the water and you took a sip. It was still so pleasantly cold and refreshing... 
- Face up, love... - you've said, and when he followed your instructions, you pressed the rim of the bottle to his lips, allowing him to drink. - You look beautiful, being so vulnerable with me like that... - you've complimented him, and he almost choked, but you've felt his cock twitch. - Gorgeous... - and there it was again... - Absolutely divine... - you've enjoyed the effect your words had on him, especially when he was trying so hard not to show it, but he was brutally betrayed. - And so ready for the next round... - you laughed gently, finally taking the water bottle from his mouth and wiping the remaining wetness from his cheeks with your thumb. You meant it when you said that you didn't have to do anything else tonight, even considering the fact that the captain's erection was currently leaking precum on your lower back; after all, he was the only one who didn't get to come today, but you knew he understood what was happening because he was in a similar position in the past. - Are you sure you're ready to go again...? - you asked after taking one more sip and passing the bottle to Mav. 
- Yes, ma'am... - he simply replied, and started moving as if he wanted to slip out of you, but you stopped him. Since he was already inside, there was no need to change that, so instead, you leaned forward and bent your legs, so you were able to put your weight on your knees and his thighs and started gently grinding, not moving much at first because you didn't want him to slip out of you completely. Plus feeling him fill up inside you was... curiously pleasurable. But even though you didn't move much, his cum started leaking from you, and you could feel it slowly spreading on your thighs.
- Such a sweet boy, letting mommy use his body for her own pleasure... - you've tested the waters with that word, and it still was affecting him more than he cared to admit. He didn't lose it this time, not even a little. He just leaned and embraced you stronger, barely giving you room to move. 
You felt the weight on the mattress shift behind you, and within a few seconds, you felt Pete's hands on your ass, kneading and spreading it gently. You couldn't help but smile at his idea, because it was something you didn't have the occasion to do for quite a while now. His hands disappeared for a moment, and before he touched you again he warmed the lube between his fingers. 
He was kneeling right behind you, with his left hand gently resting on your breast and his face hidden in the nook of your neck, while his right hand was gently stretching your hole, preparing you as best as he could. You knew he was able to feel Jake through the thin wall inside you, and you caught the moment when the younger man realized what was happening. For a very short second, there was panic in his eyes, but seeing how your body was reacting to that assault, he instantly relaxed and let you ride him. Thanks to your own movements, Mav didn't have to do much, because you were slowly impaling yourself both on Jake's already hard cock and his fingers. With every fall you were getting more and more frustrated, but you didn't change the tempo, because you didn't want to finish too quickly, and with constant pressure against that sweet spot inside you, it was extremely difficult to remain composed. 
It took a few minutes (definitely more than you wanted) of your gentle movements for Pete to be satisfied that you'll be able to take him without any issues. He let you know that he's ready by placing his hand on the small of your back, just where his precum was smeared from before. You gently pushed Jake backward and leaned over him, making space for Mav to move even closer behind you and line himself up with your entry; leaving the rest up to you. 
When you started leaning backward and slowly but surely sinking into his hard cock, his arms were waiting for you and he embraced you with his whole body, while you welcomed him inside you. 
You had to stop for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of all of it. Everything was happening both too fast and too slow, while you were stuck in that hypersensitive state in the middle, aware of everything that was touching your body. You just felt so... full... 
You've rested your forehead on the top of Jake's head, trying to catch as many breaths as you could, but you just weren't able to get full lungs of air, catching only short, shallow gasps, as if the two men buried inside you forced the air out of you. 
- You alright, princess...? - He said so quietly that you barely heard him. Or maybe the loud hum of blood rushing through your veins somehow muffled outside sounds. 
- 'mfine... Just... Intense...  - your own voice betrayed you by coming out almost broken. Neither of them rushed you, patiently waiting for a moment you'll be able to move again, and when you did, you couldn't help but moan so loud, that you almost startled yourself. - Fuck it feels so good... - you added when you rose again, and when you sank yourself onto them, the cry of pleasure that came from your mouth was caught directly by Jake's lips. With every move, you felt them drag and push all the right spots, slowly turning your muscles into mush to the point where you were barely able to get up after you unceremoniously dropped onto them again. 
You've felt Pete's hand reaching around you and stopping on your bulged stomach, feeling the movement inside you through your skin, and when the younger man realized what was happening, his own hand followed Mav's, and you couldn't help but join them, covering both of them with your forearm. You've put your right hand on Jake's shoulder, trying to find more leverage, and it helped for a while, but with every move, you were getting more and more lost in the pleasure, so when you felt Mav placing his right arm below your thigh and Jake doing the same with your left side, you sighed with relief, because even though you were still doing most of the job, you didn't have to rise on your own, they were there to help you in any way they could, and you could go much faster thanks to that. You even rest your elbow on Jake's shoulder and pulled his head closer to your breasts, letting him know that they were all his if he wanted. And oh, how much he wanted them... Even though he still felt guilty for leaving such a nasty bitemark on your skin, he almost instantly started sucking on your nipples, biting them, and pulling them just as you liked it, and that was enough to pull you to the top of your release, but what pushed you over it, was a rough bite from Mav on your left shoulder. Pain mixing with pleasure drew a loud scream from you, and without anyone to drink it from your mouth, you didn't doubt that someone definitely heard it. Your nails dug deep into Jake's skin, and you weren't fully registering what exactly was happening because you were still lost in that blinding light in your brain. 
You slumped down, officially unable to move anymore, and while you felt a second load of warm cum inside your pussy, Pete was still hard as a rock. Damn, that man had both patience and stamina... 
- Love, would you like for the captain here to fuck you while you're still inside mommy...? - you asked. - I know you were a good boy and you got all stretched and ready for me... - your tone was gentle and sweet because you didn't want to force him to do anything he was even a little bit uncomfortable with. 
- I would like that very much, ma'am. - you smiled softly and pulled him higher, so you could kiss him properly. 
- You heard our boy... - you didn't have to repeat yourself, because Pete was already slipping out of you. But before he moved behind Jake, he placed a few small kisses over the bitemark he just left on your skin, making you smile.
You didn't even have to move much, because your bed was more than big enough to accommodate the change of position. You leaned back, essentially laying down with your left leg hooked around the younger man's hip and your right one laying flat in the bed. You felt him adjusting his position, and when you opened your eyes, you saw that it was Mav maneuvering his body as if it was made out of clay. He helped him bend his knee, so it was almost under you. His second leg was placed over your stretched one, giving Mav more space to move freely behind him. Plus being intertwined like that meant that even if Jake remained soft inside you, he wouldn't slip out, keeping you nice and plugged. 
You saw Mav pushing him down, so his face was yet again in your breasts, not that you minded, although the skin there was already covered in deep red hickeys, bitemarks and your nipples were so overstimulated that even the lightest touch, resulted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, which you loved. 
Even though Jake was technically already stretched, Pete took his sweet time, making sure of that. Because it's not like all that slow attention was an excuse for the fact that he loved teasing his partners. 
It wasn't long before he started moaning into your skin, while you were gently playing with his hair with one hand, and tracing unrecognizable patterns on his back with the other.
- Tell me exactly what your captain is doing and how it feels... - it wasn't a request, and you couldn't help but smile devilishly when Mav caught your gaze; after all, it was more for him than for you. He returned the smile and went right back to massaging Jake's walls from the inside, this time not breaking eye contact with you. 
- He's so meticulous, and doing everything so slooooOHly... It's driving me crazy... - It wasn't hard to tell when Pete rubbed his fingers against the prostate. - He has two fingers insiiiihide me and is spreading them... - his moan sounded so delicious and for a quick moment he sucked on your nipple before he continued describing to you what was being done to him. - I think he's gonna add another finger, mommy... can you please tell him to add two...? - it was the first time when Jake... slipped...? He was careful not to use the word himself, but he was so desperate that he didn't even notice. 
- Captain, please don't be mean to our boy, he was so well-behaved today... - you finished the request with a huge smile on your face, and Mav bit his lower lip, even though he would much rather prefer to close his mouth around something else. He only hummed in response and indeed sunk four of his fingers into the lieutenant's body, drawing a loud squeal from him. 
- Well, love... You got what you wanted from the captain... And what do we say when someone gives us what we want? - you were maintaining eye contact with Pete, and you just knew he was going to fuck you so hard next time, you'd feel it for a week because you were riling him up so well. 
- Thank you, captain... - Jake mumbled from around your nipple, not even bothering to release it from between his teeth. 
- Now, now... It is rude to speak with your mouth full, isn't it...? And you don't want to be rude, right...? - you were playing all the right strings and it was a pleasure to hear the melody. 
- Noo... - he sighed heavily and turned his head around. - I'm sorry, captain... Thank you, captain... - he mumbled and as soon as he finished talking, he went straight to your other nipple. You couldn't help but wonder if he'd be even more interested in your breasts if they were filled with milk... But that definitely wasn't a conversation for today. 
- Such a sweet boy... - you've said more to Mav, than to Hangman, who was giving his full attention to your breasts. 
- He is so good... Next time you should be the one to fuck him, princess... - he replied and you hummed agreeably in response. You noticed that he removed his fingers from Jake and was getting a condom on and rubbing lube over his member and you couldn't help but stare just a little from over the younger man's head. He knew he didn't have to do that with you, you established that boundary a long time ago. But he still respected it with other people, even in a heat of the moment. 
- Can you ask nicely for the captain to fuck you, love...? - Jake looked you in the eyes, suddenly unsure, but not about the action itself... He shook his head, unsure of your response, but you just kissed him on the forehead. - It's ok, love... You don't have to say anything... Would you like mommy to tell him to be good to you...? - he nodded, more confident than a second ago. 
- You heard that captain... - huge grin sprawled on your face. - Make our boy feel really good... - you knew that even if you didn't say anything, he would do that without missing a beat. You didn't see exactly what was happening, but you still felt a sharper suction on your skin, so you assumed that Mav dipped his tip. You saw how gently he moved, how his fingers held Jake's hips, not even making any dips in his skin, exactly what the younger man needed. You felt how Pete's moves affected him, not only because he sucked your nipples harder, whenever Maverick dragged his tip against his prostate, but because every time that happened, he became just a bit harder inside you. How the hell both of them were able to get it up so quickly...? What did they feed them in the academy...? 
- He's getting hard again... - you informed Mav and his huge grin matched your own.
- Goooood... - he almost purred, and you bit your lip at that sound. - Do you think you can handle it a bit faster and rougher, love...? - he asked, and Jake nodded his head enthusiastically, You saw that Pete grabbed his hips harder, pulling Hangman closer to himself, but when he snapped his hips forwards, you were the one that moaned a little in surprise, because he was essentially using Jake to fuck you, and your moan finally broke the spell that was hanging over the younger man's head. His eyes instantly became more clear and more aware, and he started moving his hips on his own, meeting Mav's thrusts and then entering you again. He was trapped in the most delicious sandwich he'd ever witnessed and he did everything he could to help get you both off. 
Mav leaned forward and moved one of his hands to your hip, trying to pull you closer to Hangman whenever he was thrusting into you. Finding a good rhythm took you all a good moment, but it was all worth it because as soon as it happened, none of you really cared about all the noises either of you made, all that mattered was selfishly chasing that orgasm. Jake was the first one to finish... You weren't sure if he actually had any sperm left, but his whole body twitched and collapsed heavily on top of you, while Mav was still pounding into him mercilessly, turning him into even more liquid jelly. 
- Im gonna be back, love. - you whispered directly into Jake's ear and swiftly got away from under him. Mav observed your movements, focusing his gaze only on you, and understanding what you were doing, quickly got out of Jake and took off his condom, while you quickly straddled him and guided his hard cock into your ass, since he was already there before. Being extremely horny didn't mean that you were open to vaginal infections from unsafe sex. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in one place while he was slamming again and again into you with a strength that could have been scary under any other circumstances. You didn't give a fuck about how loudly you were moaning and screaming, because he was making you feel so good, that you forgot about the rest of the world. 
You felt him getting closer and closer, and when you finally were sure he was going to cum any second, you whispered a simple four words in his ear... "Come for me, captain..." and he spilled all over your insides, holding you tightly in his arms and digging his teeth into the soft muscle on your right shoulder, one of few places on your torso that was without any marks. That was until now. And that was enough to push you over the edge for the fourth time today. You weren't sure what came over you, but you bit him harshly as well. In the place where his neck met his shoulder, so you knew it would be painful, but he only squeezed you tighter in his arms, as if he was afraid that you would disintegrate if he dared to let go just for a second. 
When you finally started climbing down from cloud nine, you realized that your breaths and heartbeats synchronized, because you could feel his through his skin, and you were sure that if you realized that, he did as well.
- Hi, captain... - you've finally said, still trying to calm your breathing down. 
- Hi, princess... - he replied and kissed you gently. You gave yourself a few more seconds just the two of you, embracing each other bodies, pressing your foreheads together, so there was no space for anything else in between you. That small moment of intimacy was exactly what you needed before both of you came back to Jake, who was still basically high on what happened tonight. 
- Wipes in the nightstand... - you've said to Mav since he was closer to them, and you snaked one of your arms under Jake's head, so you could hold him close. You hummed in surprise when you felt Mav pulling your leg up and putting it on his shoulder, while he warmed a wet wipe in between his hands, so it wouldn't be so cold on your skin and started wiping the mess that all of you made. Fortunately, the wipes were of good quality and didn't have any trouble taking care of the mix of your own juices, lube, and cum. They definitely couldn't replace a good shower, but for now -they were more than adequate. Mav also leaned over you and gently cleaned the mess that was left on Jake's body, and the younger man tried to growl in response, one squeeze from you, and he was behaving again. 
After cleaning both of you, Mave pressed and opened the water bottle to your lips, making sure you'll drink enough, and after a moment you did the same with Jake, who was still coming down from his high. It was adorable how fucked out he was and after you returned the water bottle to Mav, you hooked one of your legs on the younger man's hip, pulling him just a little bit closer to you. 
- Can you please open the window...? - you requested quietly and Mav obliged. During sex you didn't mind how hot your bedroom was, but after... It was a different conversation. It was still hot outside since it was the middle of July, and with two radiators-aviators in your bed, it was bound to get even hotter, in the literal sense, because you knew from experience that both of them radiated extreme temperatures, so you knew no matter what, you'll wake up drenched in sweat. 
But before Mav joined you, he gently removed a messy top sheet, trying not to move either of you too much. 
- Just leave it anywhere, and c'mere... I'll wash it tomorrow... - you said with your eyes closed. You were slowly dozing off, but Mav obliged before you were completely gone and lay behind you, wrapping his arm around you and gently resting it on your breast. It wasn't sexual, more of a comfort thing, and it made you smile. 
- Pervert... - you whispered jokingly and he chuckled in response, pulling himself closer to you and placing a soft kiss on the bitemark closest to his mouth, but this one you haven't felt, the exhaustion finally catching up.
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novoaa1writes · 11 months
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ours
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pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x f!reader, dark!wanda maximoff x dark!natasha romanoff x f!reader
summary:
You grin, slinging the sodden rag over one shoulder and fixing Wanda with a playfully contemplative look. “Your drink of choice. Vieux Carré—”
“Hold the lemon,” Wanda finishes, the corner of her lips twitching—threatening a smirk. 
You nod and dip your chin—by all accounts, seeming quite shy all of a sudden. “Did I get it right?” you ask, wide-eyed and hopeful—desperately searching Wanda’s bemused features for a hint of approval. Her approval. 
Gods, she thinks to herself, telltale warmth pooling low in her belly at the sight of you. You’re perfect.
word count: ~4,100
rating: teen
warnings: wanda being kind of unhinged, natasha ALSO being kind of unhinged... generally non-consensual dynamics going on, etc etc. kidnapping for sure! 
notes: implied female reader (through russian/bulgarian terminology). and on that note, wanda uses a bulgarian dialect because i say so! i guess! .. idk this has been sitting in my docs for a minute now but it’s here! i figured a little post couldn’t hurt while i continue to work on other stuff (that being the ‘find you again’ series update and the recent request i got about queen ramonda)
— —
Wanda Maximoff has always harbored something of a… possessive streak. Particularly where it concerns the things—people—that she wants. 
There’s a certain mania in it, she knows—a type of delirium in allowing something to consume you with such sovereignty. A complete loss of self; a sense of desire so vast, you’ll kill every last part of yourself in a bid to make it stay. 
She knows this. She thinks a part of her always has. It used to scare her, once upon a time. 
But then… well. Aliens invaded. Scientists happened. High Evolutionary, HYDRA… Her mind is a mess of jumbled recollections—their mess. Ultron, S.W.O.R.D., Erik, Agatha. A flicker of bright electric blue; trails of cobalt mist floating on air, curled around her like the arms of somebody she used to know. Two little boys, wide-eyed and earnest. Twins, just like… 
A swift movement in her periphery interrupts her train of thought, yanking her back to the present. 
Sound assaults her eardrums on all sides: overlapping chatter, wooden chairs scraping the floors, the faint clinking sounds of cubed ice swirling around in glass tumblers. She blinks—once, twice—and forces herself to relax as a slender figure takes a seat across from her with all the practiced grace of a prima ballerina.
“Couldn’t stay away?” Natalia’s eyes—no longer colored her natural green, but a subtle shade of muted blue—dance with amusement. If Wanda looks intently enough, she can see the edges of each contact lens around her irises. She’s bleached her eyebrows, and toned them, too; they’re now a flaxen platinum hue which makes the blue of her (faux) irises really pop. 
Wanda shrugs, eyeing the bar out the corner of her eye. The bar, behind which you scurry tirelessly this way and that, serving mixed drinks and tap beer and the occasional shot of something harder to a never-ending procession of barely-legal college kids, billiards-enthused grad students, and haggard-looking blue-collar workers fresh off a 10-hour shift. 
“You’re blonde again,” she remarks instead without bothering to tear her gaze away. You’ve always been such a hard worker—even on days that you have every right to be the opposite. It’s one of the many things she admires about you.  
Natalia’s smirk widens, though Wanda hardly catches it. “Figured I’d go for something a little more… subtle,” she responds, tucking an errant lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. In the same motion, she turns to angle herself just so, such that she too can monitor your diligent movements from out the corner of her eye. “She’s off at 1:00.”
You’re wiping down the bartop with a damp rag now, and chuckling good-naturedly at a joke one particularly greasy-looking patron has (apparently) told. If you take note of the lecherous way he stares down your shirt as you lean in to scrub at a particularly sticky spot on the burnished wood, you do well not to show it. 
Wanda does. Wanda notices everything about you. 
Her jaw creaks from clenching it so hard. 
It’s only Natalia’s voice, clear and calm, which reaches her through the noise—blood rushing, elevated heart rate pounding in her ears. “Easy,” she cautions lowly. 
Easy, Wanda repeats internally. 
“She’s mine,” Wanda hears herself snarl, fists clenched tightly in her lap as she glares daggers over at the source of her ire. Limp-dicked pervert.
“Ours,” Natalia corrects. There’s a certain edge to her tone, this time—one that Wanda, even as furious as she is, knows better than to disregard. 
With some effort, she tears her gaze from you and looks at Natalia, who levels her with a high-browed look in return. 
“Sorry,” Wanda mumbles, dipping her chin with genuine contrition. (She’s careful not to lose you in her periphery all the same.)
Natalia analyzes her for a brief moment, then gives a shallow nod. “Be patient,” she murmurs, pitching her voice just over the hubbub and chatter filling the pub. “It won’t be long now.”
“Promise?” she asks—pleads, really; quite suddenly feeling so very, very small. 
Natalia has a way of doing that—of making her feel small, and vulnerable, and meek where no one else can, because Wanda swore to herself that she’d never let them. Not again. Not after Stark, and Ultron, and the ever-elusive ghost of a hazel-eyed boy whose name she can’t for the life of her recall. 
She’s simply worked too hard, lost far too much to willfully prostrate herself in such a way. There’s nothing to be gained by kneeling at the foot of someone bigger, stronger, meaner ; nothing beyond pain and suffering without end. She knows that better than most. 
Natalia is different. 
And when Natalia’s lips curve to form a delectably crooked grin, mischief sparking itself alight in her eyes, Wanda is reminded of exactly why that is. And when she says, “Promise,” it doesn’t feel empty, the way it did with everyone else. 
It feels like what it is—a promise. 
— —
“Let me guess—Vieux Carré, hold the lemon.”
It takes everything within Wanda not to jump out of her skin the moment you—of all people, you—slide into the seat across from her at a pristine table for two. Then, you’re starting a conversational dialogue as though it’s the most ordinary thing on Earth.
Good Lord. Are you trying to kill her? “What?”
You grin, slinging the sodden rag over one shoulder and fixing Wanda with a playfully contemplative look. “Your drink of choice. Vieux Carré—”
“Hold the lemon,” Wanda finishes, the corner of her lips twitching—threatening a smirk. 
You nod and dip your chin—by all accounts, seeming quite shy all of a sudden. “Did I get it right?” you ask, wide-eyed and hopeful—desperately searching Wanda’s bemused features for a hint of approval. Her approval. 
Gods, she thinks to herself, telltale warmth pooling low in her belly at the sight of you. You’re perfect.
“I’m not much of a drinker, I’m afraid,” she admits, eyeing you intently. 
The visible disappointment that flits across your features—though regretful—is damn near as delectable as your naïveté. “Shoot,” you pout, brow furrowed. 
A beat passes in silence. 
Wait. Silence? That can’t be… 
Alarmed, Wanda does a quick visual sweep, logging her surroundings. Head on a swivel. Natalia taught her that. 
Chairs flipped up on tables; an empty bar. The neon signs decorating each wall—dark. Lights out; newly-swept floors spotless and bare. Not a soul in sight. 
Well, besides the pair of you. 
“It’s after 2:00. We closed about a half hour ago,” you offer by way of explanation. There’s an almost… sympathetic look gracing your tawny features; a genuine urge to soothe Wanda’s evident disorientation, strange and unfamiliar though she might be.
“I suppose that… I lost track of the time,” Wanda murmurs more to herself than to you, pinpricks of unease crawling beneath her skin. She can already hear Natalia’s voice in her head—scolding her for losing focus. 
You nod, as if this explanation pleases you. “It happens.”
“Not to me,” Wanda refutes before she can think better of it, words imbued with bitterness and longing and grief beyond measure. “Not after…” she trails off, blinking rapidly. 
You frown, leaning forth with clasped hands. “After…?” Your voice is gentle—so very gentle; your intonation—probing, yet kind. And that look in your eyes—tender, open… warm. Like she could tell you anything, everything, if she wanted to. 
Heaven help her, but Wanda wants to.
It’s only the firm, intent rhythm of boots on wood which stops her from committing any further blunders. Confident footsteps mark the newcomer’s approach, and with them, a rich, intoxicating presence; one ripe with poise and sovereignty.
Saved by the bell.
“I thought I’d find you here,” comes a lofty, languorous intonation. Low, husky; cool and collected as can be. 
Natalia. 
Her hair is a dark, coffee-stained brown; her eyes a startling shade of hazel. Her brows are penciled in to appear fuller, darker; and, as she draws near, there’s a rather overstated sensuality to her stride—a densely-layered suggestiveness that’s as fantastical as it is distracting.
Yes, Natalia has always been a master of deception. Shedding skins and personas like outerwear; changing seamlessly with the winds of every season. And yet, throughout it all, one thing remains; one thing is constant. She’s in charge, always thinking a step—or ten—ahead. As for the rest of them… well. They’re all just window dressing; side-pieces; extras in her production. 
And Wanda surrenders unto it, as she always does. Revels in its close proximity, soaking it up like golden sunlight on a warm summer’s day. 
You, for your part, are not left similarly unruffled. 
“We’re closed,” you assert, rising unsteadily to your feet with an alarmed expression. “How…” you falter, gaze darting this way and that. “How did you get in?”
If Natalia hears you (and Wanda knows that she does), she does not let on. Rather, she comes to stand directly between the pair of you, peering down at Wanda with a decidedly displeased frown. “I expected you back hours ago.”
Wanda dips her chin in a show of deference, cheeks hot with embarrassment. “I know. I was—”
“Distracted?” Natalia interjects tonelessly. “Yes, I can see that.” Wanda hears her heave a quiet sigh. “You’re forcing my hand here, звезда моя.”
You’re well and truly confused, now; looking from Natalia to Wanda and back again, trying desperately to put the puzzle pieces together. Wanda can practically see the gears turning in your pretty little head. “You guys… know each other?”
Poor thing. 
Wanda dares to raise her head, looking up to Natalia with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry,” she professes, her voice small and quiet. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Another sigh, though even before she speaks, Wanda can tell she’s won. (This round, at least.) “Fine,” Natalia huffs, turning to appraise you with a harried look. “It’s high time you took a leave of absence, my dear. You work far too much, anyhow.”
— —
You awaken slowly. Your head spins. And your limbs… tingling, yet numb. So very, very numb. It’s like you’re floating and sinking all at once—suspended in viscous amber, lead weighing heavy in your bones… pressure squeezing your lungs in a steel vice.
And, just as quickly as it’s come, it’s gone. 
Awareness sparks a lit match in your chest; it burns a fiery trail up your throat as you hack and cough, hot bursts of air leaving you in a blistering rush. You roll over on a whim, wheezing up what meager remains of your burning lungs onto… a bed. Nicely made. Starch-white sheets, all tucked in around the edges. 
And the scent—pleasant, mild, clean. Like a hotel. 
Bleary-eyed and disoriented, you prop yourself up onto your forearms and peer around.
Polished cement flooring, shadow-grey walls... a flat-screen TV mounted up on the opposite wall. You’re still in your work uniform—slim-fit tee with a generous V-neck (black), jeans (also black), and a pair of ratty hi-top Converse (blue). Your head pounds. 
What happened?
For better or worse, you aren’t permitted the time to think about it for too long. At precisely that moment, all the hairs on your body seem to stand on end, and the realization hits (rather belatedly, granted) that you are not alone. 
A pretty, red-haired woman stands in the doorway, regarding you intently with an otherwise blank expression. Delicate, diamond-cut jawline; full, rouge-red lips. Average height, with a slender yet shapely build. Unreasonably attractive. 
You think you might recognize her.
Hesitantly (and with a not insignificant amount of effort), you wriggle over onto your back, feeling her eyes upon you all the while. 
“H-Hi,” you manage awkwardly. Your cheeks feel hot. 
Her full, pinkish lips curve up to form a spine-chilling smirk that dimples both pale cheeks. “Hello,” she answers back in kind, forest-green eyes alight with mischief. 
“Where am I?”
She shrugs. “Does it matter?”
You blink, taken aback. “... Yes?”
She sucks in her lips, as if trying not to laugh. “Is that a question?”
You fall silent, then, feeling rather foolish and small all of a sudden. 
She says nothing, though the amusement remains upon her pretty angular features, causing your skin to heat and itch with mounting discomfort. 
“You look familiar,” you say after a moment. You’ve never been one for awkward silences.  “Do I know you?”
She shrugs once more. “Do you?”
You don’t roll your eyes, but it’s a close thing. Instead, you shove yourself up into a sitting position and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Even that meager motion alone is enough to make your head pound and spin and shriek like a banshee on speed, but you’re loath to quit now. “I’m leaving now,” you announce shakily, making to push yourself to your feet— 
Only to be intercepted by a deceptively slender body slamming into yours head-on, shoving all the air from your lungs in one fell swoop and jackknifing your upper body violently backward. Instinct allows you to get your elbows behind you in time to stop yourself from tumbling onto your back as she clambers into your lap with all the efficacy and grace of someone who’d done this a thousand times before; steel-wrought thighs clamped around your hips in a bruising grip, an open-faced palm pressed against your sternum. 
“I don’t think so, зайка,” she purrs, bearing down on you much like a predator would its prey. And fuck it all, but she’s so much prettier up close. Not only that, but she smells incredible; like honey and pine needles and something indefinable, something entirely her own. “Why don’t you relax, hm? Stay a while.”
You get the feeling she isn’t really asking so much as she is telling. 
You gulp, trying your very best to re-gather yourself: your composure, your confusion, your ire. “Who are you?” you try again, suppressing a shudder. “What do you want ?” You give your hips an experimental wiggle—endeavoring to loosen her grip, even if only slightly. 
Nothing. If anything, she grips you that much tighter, digs her palm into your chest that much harder until there’s absolutely no question about the impressive bruising you’ll sport come morning. 
You bite your lip to hold back a whine, and don’t flinch when you taste blood. Jesus. 
“Natasha,” she returns airily. She tacks on something else in a decidedly Slavic-sounding dialect (Russian, perhaps?), followed by… your name. 
Your heart skips a beat, your chest beginning to ache beneath her palm. “How do you know my name?” you question dumbfoundedly, ears ringing. 
She—Natasha—just chuckles, low and amused. “Oh, зайка,” she muses, cupping your cheek in the palm of her free hand. “I know everything about you.”
You frown, heart thudding double-time against your ribcage. You’re not sure what compels you to test her knowledge, particularly in your current predicament, but, nevertheless— 
“When was I born?” you inquire—demand, really. You’ve always been a bit too bold for your own good. 
Luckily, though, rather than enraging her, Natasha actually appears… tickled by your impudence. Charmed, even. She rattles off your birthday, complete with the year and time of day—to the minute—without blinking.
“Where was I born?” 
She rattles that one off, too, complete with the city, hospital, and cross-streets. 
“Where’d I go to school as a child?”
Same deal. Lists the full name of the school, its exact locale (cross-streets and all); even includes the name of your favorite teacher, just to rub it in.
Fuck. You swallow thickly, dread churning low in your gut. “What do you want?” Your voice trembles this time, though you haven’t the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it. 
All you can feel is thinly-veiled panic as the reality of your situation hits like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy with fear.  
“I want a lot of things.”
Again, you don’t roll your eyes, though it’s not for lack of wanting. “None of which includes answering my questions, I see.”
She smiles, all teeth. “Careful, bunny,” she cautions, leaning further in until your faces are centimeters apart and her hair tickles your collarbones. It takes all your willpower to keep from flinching away at her close proximity. “My patience is not limitless,” she informs you, warm breath ghosting across your lips, “and you are testing it.”
Your cheeks burn as you manage a shallow nod, feeling by all accounts properly chastised. “Sorry,” you mumble, however begrudgingly.
“Your obstinacy is endearing, but unacceptable,” Natasha continues, shoving herself back off of you with the palm of her hand—ouch— and dismounting gracefully from your lap in one fluid motion. Your breastbone aches, and your hips aren’t much better—left smarting from the phantom weight of her touch. You don’t dare move an inch. “We’ll work on that.”
You exhale sharply, head still pounding, blood pooling along your lower lip. “I don’t understand,” you tell her, your eyes burning with unshed tears. 
“Aw,” she coos, lips pushed out to form a sympathetic (read: condescending) pout. “Poor thing.” As she speaks, another figure enters your tear-blurred vision and—
Wait a minute. Another one?
Your teary-eyed gaze darts over to the new arrival, frantically taking her in. White. Pretty. Long, strawberry-blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and delicate pink lips. 
You didn’t even hear her come in. 
“Natalia, you’re scaring her,” the strawberry-blonde admonishes, coming to sit directly beside you on the edge of the bed. Her voice is smooth and light, tempered with the faintest hint of Slavic influence. Not only that, but there’s something almost… familiar about her as she urges you to sit upright, begins tucking stray locks of non-existent hair behind your ear with all the tenderness and familiarity of a long-time lover. Have you met her before? “Oh, it’s okay, миличка, don’t cry.”
You shake your head despondently, face hot with embarrassment. You feel like a little kid. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” you whisper hoarsely, willing yourself not to cry. 
“Shh, shh, I know, baby,” she soothes, leaning in to place a feather-light kiss upon your temple. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” She nuzzles along your brow with the tip of her nose, leaving kisses upon every inch of skin. 
You don’t fight it when she mouths her way down your jaw, tilting your face towards her with an insistent touch beneath your chin.
You—teary-eyed, frustrated, critically overwhelmed—can’t move, can hardly breathe. You’re stock-still, locked in place; looking despondently into her blue-green eyes like you’re drowning, and she might just be the one to save you.
It’s something like a dream when she presses her lips to yours in a feather-light kiss that all too quickly turns open-mouthed and heated; her tongue sliding against yours, teeth nipping at your split lower lip until you whimper. 
You don’t mean to. Really, you don’t. It just… it happens so fast.
Your head spins, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen, and God help you, but her kiss is nothing short of intoxicating—warm and solid and there, anchoring you in a moment that feels altogether surreal. 
It takes all your grit—and then some—to tear yourself away, but you manage it all the same.
“Shit,” you gasp, chest heaving, head spinning. You damn near tumble off the edge of the bed. 
If the woman is at all put off by your sudden retreat, she does not let on. Instead, she merely smirks and licks a smear of blood—your blood—from her upper lip with slow, deliberate movements, as though savoring your taste. 
“Delicious,” she murmurs more to herself than anyone else, eyes hooded with lust. 
“I-I know you,” you choke out between heaving gasps. And, the moment you’ve said it, you know it to be true. You do recognize her! 
She’s something of a regular at the bar, though certainly not in the conventional sense. She’s never ordered anything; not a drink (non-alcoholic or otherwise), nor food. She was just… there. Sitting alone at a table for two, blending seamlessly into the backdrop of every vibrant night. 
You aren’t sure when you first noticed her. A few months ago? Maybe longer?
“Wanda,” she offers up, presumably by way of introduction. 
“You… You were at the bar,” you say slowly, still quite out of breath. “A lot.”
“Someone had to make sure you did not get into any trouble,” she—Wanda—reasons with a noncommittal shrug. 
“You were there every night… because of me ?”
“Of course, миличка,” Wanda enthuses, stroking her thumb in gentle circles beneath your cheekbone. “You’re ours. Where else would I be?”
Ice slithers down your spine. “W-What?” you question, gaze darting briefly over to Natasha, who silently watches the pair of you with interest, before returning back to Wanda. “What does that mean?”
“You’re confused,” she soothes, and perhaps you’re imagining it, but you think you glimpse a flicker of carmine-red arcing through her pupils—here one moment, gone the next.
And in that instant… 
Woah. 
It’s as if a switch has been flipped. 
Time seems to slow. A strange sensation pulses behind your right eye… probing; curious. Inattention glazes over your vision; lead settles heavy in your bones. And that nagging, inquisitive probe… remains. 
Oh, does it remain. Creeping its way into your thoughts, coiling its way around the base of your spine… polluting your very bloodstream with red, red, red.
“W-What’s happening?” you hear yourself ask from beneath a sea of molten amber. The words sound tinny to your ears.
“Shh-shh-shh,” the other one—Natalie, Natalia, Natasha—coos from… behind you. When did she get there? Slender arms curl around your ribs, tugging you back into her body, and you… you are like dregs on the ocean’s tide; small, lost, helpless. Where it flows, so, too, do you. “No more talking, зайка,” she murmurs, words wrought with a mirth you don’t understand. “I think you’ve done quite enough of that.”
The distant thought registers that perhaps you should take issue with that… stiffen up, flinch away, make a snappy retort. Something.
But, just as quickly as it’s come, it’s gone, leaving nothing—not even the faintest echo—in its wake. 
She’s still pulling you along as she reclines back against the headboard, trading her firm grip on your sides for a looser one around your neck and shoulders. And you… you go willingly. You let her arms pull you back into her chest, tucking your head beneath her chin. You think you might even feel her place a kiss atop your head. Her touch is firm, yet gentle as she holds you against her, and she is so very, very warm… 
Wanda joins, too, a half a second later—straddling one of your legs and crawling her way up the length of your body, planting feather-light kisses everywhere she can reach along the way. 
“It is better like this, hm?” she hums. “Just the three of us. No arguing, no resistance… No fighting.” Once again, you’re struck by the distinct—and fleeting—impression that you should take offense to that. “How it’s meant to be.” 
When she finally comes to rest, it’s with an arm slung around your waist and one of her long, shapely legs tangled with yours. She noses at Natasha’s forearms folded beneath your chin like a brown-nosed puppy, and doesn’t relent until she readjusts her grip with a peevish huff. The moment there’s room, Wanda’s head finds its place against your chest and she lets out a satisfied hum, every warm puff of breath ghosting just so across your sternum. You’re sure she can feel every slow, languorous beat of your heart from there. All at once, it occurs to you to be grateful for your hazy, befuddled state; heaven knows your heart would be thundering out your chest otherwise. 
 “We care for you, миличка,” Wanda murmurs into your chest, punctuating her statement with a gentle kiss beneath your clavicle. “You don’t understand yet, and that is alright.”
“But you will,” Natasha adds, planting tender kisses along your neck and chuckling whenever a particularly sensitive spot makes you shudder. “No matter how long it takes.”
“This is our promise to you,” Wanda whispers, and though her words sound practiced, in a sense—as though she’s said them many times, and is concentrating quite intently on getting them right—they sound genuine, too. Like she really, really means them. 
Moments before you fall asleep, a thought registers—the first rational, clear thought you’ve had since you first saw twin flickers of red flare in Wanda’s pupils: Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
— —
звезда моя | zvezda moya | my star [russian]
зайка | zaika | bunny (term of endearment) [russian]
миличка | milichka | honey [bulgarian]
end notes: again, this has been sitting in the drafts/docs for a minute, and would love to know what you think! in the meantime, i’m still on that grind for all the shit i need to do that hasn’t yet been completed yet..... heh heh. will probably toss this up on ao3 (but also maybe not?) soon enough. we’ll see </3
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qvincvnx · 8 months
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have been listening to good omens bc it's the only audiobook i had downloaded on my phone to listen to on site and
it's good. i remembered it fondly but have been so annoyed by the fandom that i didnt remember how MUCH i like that stupid book
lots of retroactively hysterical transgenderism in the feelings i had about it the first time i read it (i was 8)
since i was so young when i read it to me it's much more an Experience and Sequence Of Vignettes where Characters Bounce Into Each Other Like Billiard Balls. this is probably the longest i've gone without a reread (since the show came out) and i feel like i came to it kind of fresh and i'm just filled with a lot of appreciation for like... how neatly and intricately it's done, specifically how the plot is constructed, and also weirdly my favorite character dynamic this time is adam and anathema. its so good. feed your local antichrist leftist nonsense for the world's most based and ecoconscious apocalypse.
the urge to read fic about it is hitting me so hard but if i have to read show fic i truly will kill my whole self
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puffcap-factory · 22 hours
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Feelings, Love, and... Misunderstandings? (Heartsteel Yone x reader)
Heartsteel!Yone x gn!reader; fluff, crack, bits of hurt/comfort plotwise.
When an overthinking reader (co-manager) meets the overthinking producer of the Heartsteel group.
Warnings: 
Alcohol drinking, self-doubt, emotional breakdown.
I assume that all Heartsteel members are big enough and legal to drink.
**The story was written in more of a light-hearted tone, but I put the warnings here just in case. 
Notes: 
Working on (non-angst) Yone’s fic is harder than I thought. But I really like the dynamic of the heartsteel boys, and their presence really helped oomph up the stoic producer of the group. So… here’s another heartsteel fic for you! Again, I did not think too much of the title...
I hope you enjoy! :D
•~•~•~•
"Not joining in, hmm?" 
You jolted up from your seeming trance, the owner of the voice shifting casually closer to your seat. Turning your head, you met Alune's twinkling eyes, mischief dancing within them as she flashed a teasing smile.
“O-oh,” you smiled sheepishly as she gave you a knowing look at you, understanding well where your attention had been. “I’ll join in soon, later.” 
The week had been packed with schedules, and now the group found themselves in an arcade bar at night. You and Alune lounged on a sofa, sipping drinks and soaking in the lively atmosphere. The boys were off in their element, laughing and competing at darts and billiards while the latest music filled the air.
To your front, Yone and K'sante were engrossed in a game of billiards. You had to admit you have been marveling at the tall, lean, and handsome sight of the man who was gracefully playing the billiard. And, Alune had always been aware of your not-so-secret crush towards the group’s talented producer.
She leaned in closer as she whispered, rather enthusiastically, “Play a game with him, have some fun, try to get under his skin!”
Get under his skin. Right. I’d win a nobel prize for discovering his feelings.
Yone, for all his cool exterior, was just as cool as he looked. Unfortunately, he was particularly hard to read, at least for you. You couldn't tell if his kindness towards you was simply that — kindness — or if there was something more behind it. He was generally polite to everyone, though a bit stricter with Kayn and Ezreal – to no one's surprise. Yone was easygoing and pleasant to talk to, which only added to your curiosity as you tried to decipher his true feelings. 
There were occasions when you found yourselves spending time together, but it was never labeled as a date. It was either due to work duties, given your role as a co-manager, or simply a friendly hangout that happened naturally. Each time, you tried to read between the lines, wondering if there was something more beneath the surface, to no avail. 
"You know what, Alune, you're probably right. First, let's try billia-" You began, standing up with determination, but before you could make your move towards the billiard table, Ezreal appeared, blocking your view.
"Y/n! You owe us a round of darts, remember?" Ezreal exclaimed, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you away from the table, despite your silent protests. 
Great. What a timing, Ezreal.
"Sorry, Alune, I'll be borrowing her for a while," he added with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "Don't tell me you forgot about the deal, hmm?" Kayn chimed in, raising an eyebrow as he waited in the dart booth.
You had mustered up the courage to take a shot at a round of billiards with Yone, but Ezreal and Kayn were quick to rope you into the dart booth before you could voice any further protests. Alune simply watched with an amused grin, clearly entertained by the turn of events.
You ended up playing a few rounds of darts with Ezreal and Kayn, snacking and sipping on some of their peculiar concoctions of 'potions' they had whipped up on a whim. It was a fun challenge you had agreed to, having lost a dare to them before. When it wasn’t your turn, you couldn't help but throw quick glances towards the billiard table, particularly at Yone, admiring his oh-so-smooth movements. 
You were feeling a bit lighter in the head, the effects of the peculiar potions finally catching up to you. Though clear-minded, you were certainly getting full from the incoming food. As you prepared to take your next throw in the dart game, a brand-new top-chart song began to play in the background, its music video displayed on the monitor above the room.
Ezreal, caught up in the music, started to nod off, vibing with the beat. Meanwhile, Kayn shifted his attention towards the music video, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Ooh, wait, I saw that lady with Yone before!" Kayn exclaimed, pointing at the screen. "Hah, Yone, so that's your type, huh?"
Wait… what?
You quickly glanced at the screen, only to see an incredibly sexy and charming actress starring in the music video.
That’s HIS type?
"Ooh! Right, I saw her talking to you at the bar before," Sett added, joining in on the conversation as Yone sighed dismissively, a small defeated smile appearing on his face.
…AND he’s not even declining? 
You held onto your dart a bit tighter, trying to contain the emotions swirling inside you. There was no way you could compare to her. Despite the mix of sadness and frustration stirring up inside, you maintained a smile onto your face, determined to keep up your appearances.
I might be just overthinking this. Get it together, y/n.
You tried to reassure yourself. But as the sound of the atmosphere began to blur and others' conversations turned into a mumbled background noise as your thoughts took over. The insecurities crept in, overshadowing the fun of the night. Was this the effect of the alcohol or was it just me?
"Y/n, y/n!" Ezreal's voice cut through your thoughts as he patted you on the shoulder. "You okay?"
You blinked, snapping back to reality, realizing you had drifted off into your own world. With a forced smile, you nodded at Ezreal, trying to brush off the uneasiness that had settled in your chest. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought for a moment," you grinned at him.
Ezreal studied your face for a second. "Hmm, if you say so..." he trailed off, before leaning in to whisper with a wink, a playful glint in his eyes, "Let's just leave the drinks for Kayn, shall we?"
You couldn't help but let out an amused smile at Ezreal's comment, feeling grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. Determined to shake off your thoughts, you focused on the dart game, teaming up with Ezreal against Kayn. Together, you managed to make Kayn taste his own creations, and the laughter that followed was pleasant.
After a while, feeling a bit light-headed from the stir of emotions, and Ezreal and Kayn's concoctions, you decided to step away from the dart game for a bit to head to the bar to fetch a water. Taking a seat at the counter, you ordered the much-needed refreshment from the bartender. Leaning on the counter, you rested your chin on your hand, letting your thoughts drift as you waited for your drink.
As you gazed into space, lost in your own thoughts, you suddenly realized that someone had taken a seat next to you on the counter. And to your surprise, it was none other than the handsome producer himself, Yone.
Out of all people-! Him? Now?!
Your eyes widened in surprise as Yone caught you off guard, scrambling to sit up straighter. The bartender had just placed the glass of water in front of you, but you couldn’t just leave now.
"Mind if I join you?" Yone's voice broke the silence, his tone polite and soft.
“No—of course not.” You forced a smile at him, hoping it appeared natural as he smiled back in response.
Oh god, I hope my smile looked all normal.
Yone proceeded to order some Japanese sake from the bartender. When it arrived, you couldn't help but look at the elegant bottle and the sake cup with curiosity.
Just as you were about to ask about the sake, to break the awkwardness that had settled between you, Yone beat you to it. “Everything alright?” he inquired, his gaze gentle as he looked at you. You realized you had been silent for a moment, mentally cursing yourself for the lapse in conversation.
“Uh, yeah, of course, everything’s going well!” you replied, plastering a smile on your face.
Yone gazed at you for a moment, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. He seemed to sense that something was off, but thankfully, he didn't press further. “If it’s anything about work, you can always talk to me-"
“No, it’s not.” 
Oops. You realized that you had blurted it out too quickly. 
“Oh?” Yone turned to face you, his expression now more attentive. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked carefully, his tone low mixed with a bit of concern.
You sighed defeatedly. This man always seemed to be able to read between the lines, and you couldn’t hide it anymore. “So… There’s a guy that I like…” you admitted, taking a sip of your icy water.
Yone’s eyes twinkled in curiosity, his body shifted a bit to face you.
“But he doesn’t seem to feel the same way about me, I don’t know,” you grumbled, frustration beginning to pool inside you, as you held your forehead. 
“Does… he not give you any signs or anything?” Yone asked carefully, his expression filled with genuine care.
“No! You know, he’s insanely hard to read!” You started to rant, your emotions rushing out from beneath you. “And recently, I learned that I might very well just not be his type.”
Yone fell into silence for a moment, sensing your frustration, as he also felt something stir inside him. He wanted to help, to offer some words of comfort, but nothing perfect came to mind.
“…Does he–“ He started to ask, wanting to gather more information before commenting further, but you interrupted him.
“I don’t know anymore, Yone, maybe I should just give up! I don’t know what to do—!” The frustration and sadness bubbled over, and before you knew it, tears were pooling in your eyes.
No, no, no, brain, work more! Am I going to cry now, in front of him?!
Despite your mind still functioning clearly, your emotions won the battle, and you couldn't hold back the tears. You felt a mixture of shame, sadness, and frustration wash over you as you tried to compose yourself in front of Yone.
“Gimme that!” You snatched his sake cup and chugged down its contents, still full. Yone was taken aback by your sudden action, at a loss for words as he watched you. Your tears were now streaming down on your face, you didn’t care anymore if it had smudged your makeup.
“Y/n…” he began, lifting his arms as if to reach out to you, but you quickly reached for his sake bottle to refill the cup you were holding, determined to drown your sorrows in another shot.
“How can I compare to that woman, Yone, tell me!” You didn’t know where and how that came from, but you blurted it out.
“H-huh? Which woman?” Yone's confusion was evident as he tried to follow your train of thought.
“Which woman?? You had lots?!”
You swore your head was in some eco-friendly energy-saving-mode as you couldn’t seem to process the information, making the situation seemed even more hilariously stupid.
“…Y/n, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to reason with you, his voice soft and concerned. 
But you were just going to leave him there at the counter, tears still streaming down your face, and leave him you did. Without another word, you hurriedly made your way to the bathroom, leaving the poor man on the bar counter all alone. As you stood in front of the mirror, you realized how much of a mess you were. You looked like a metalhead who had just gone through a breakdown, with black streaks trailing down your cheeks.
“Oh no,” you whispered to yourself, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you as tears started to well up again. How had it all gone so wrong?
You looked at yourself in the bathroom, breathing in and out slowly, trying to regain your already lost composure. Moments later, Alune entered the bathroom, her expression filled with concern as she looked at you.
“Let’s rest for today, hm? I’ll drive you back,” she offered softly, her tone soothing. You nodded at her. “Don’t worry, I told everyone asking that you were not feeling well,” Alune reassured you, offering a comforting hug.
You found yourself crying again, this time for her considerate gesture. Alune chuckled softly as she patted your back, offering you comfort.
You then fell deep asleep in the car on the way back.
•~•~•~•
The next morning, you woke up feeling the slight hangover from yesterday. You sat up on your bed, trying to piece and remember the memories of whatever chaos had happened last night. Your mind then went through the memory of your interaction between you and Yone, realizing your actions, each one making you cringe with regret and shame. 
I- I’m an idiot!!
You groaned, massaging your temples as if trying to erase the memories. The more you remembered, the more ashamed you felt. You wanted to curl into a ball under your blanket and hide from the world.
You admitted to yourself that you hadn’t consumed that much alcohol at one time before, and last night, the mix of emotions and frustrations had likely been heightened by the booze.
“Yone must hate me now…” you mumbled to yourself, still rubbing your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the headache. Now, the problem was clear in your mind: How were you going to face him today? 
The fact that the members had their apartment room just right in front of yours and Alune made the situation even more daunting. You couldn’t simply avoid him forever, especially since you were part of the same team.
You went out of your room to find Alune making pancakes for brunch at the kitchen.
“Morning!” she greeted you cheerfully, despite the late hour.
“…Morning, Alune. Thanks for yesterday, though…” you mumbled, scrubbing your eyes as you yawned, meeting her grinning face, clearly waiting for your recount of the previous night. You realized her expression and groaned inwardly, knowing you'd have to relive the embarrassing story by telling her.
You sighed, grabbing a glass of milk before sitting down. “Okay, so…” you began, recounting the chaotic events of the night before. You explained how you had let your emotions get the best of you, the tears, the rambling, the chugging of sake... It all came tumbling out as you told her about your breakdown in front of Yone.
Alune listened intently, offering considerate and understanding comments throughout your story. When you finally finished, you felt a mix of relief and embarrassment wash over you.
Alune reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, we all have our moments. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
You nodded, grateful for her understanding. But then her expression shifted to a mischievous grin, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
“And…” she paused, her grin widening. You looked up at her, wondering what she was about to say.
“You should definitely confront Yone as soon as possible, tell him how you feel” she said plainly, her grin now almost playful.
“What?! That’s the last thing I would do!!” you protested, feeling a wave of panic at the thought of facing Yone after your embarrassing display.
But Alune held your shoulders firmly, her eyes serious. “Believe me, y/n. Trust me on this one.”
•~•~•~•
Throughout the day, you had been clearly avoiding Yone, much to his concern. There were three chances where you two crossed paths, but each time you quickly averted your gaze, trying your best not to interact with him due to your lingering embarrassment. But Yone appeared to have a different thought to himself.
…Did I say something wrong?
His mind was busy replaying the events from yesterday morning, wondering if he had made a misstep towards you. He was trying to connect the dots, trying to understand why you seemed upset with him yesterday.
To be honest, when you admitted to him that you had a crush on another guy, he felt a pang of hurt inside his heart, though he was adept at masking it, maintaining his calm demeanor. But he was genuinely concerned for your well-being. Learning that the guy you liked might be interested in someone else made him feel a sense of disappointment, though he didn’t let it show. He wanted the best for you, and seeing you upset about it only added to his concern.
When you left him alone at the counter, he knew he had to tell Alune about you. Alune was quick into action, helping you up at the bathroom. Later that night, Alune and Yone found a moment to talk in private, much to Yone’s request.
Alune listened intently as Yone recounted the events of the past day and his feelings of confusion and concern about your behavior. He explained how he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had somehow upset you, and how he wished he could make things right. Alune listened with patience, nodding in understanding as Yone spoke. However, he still kept his feelings about you tightly guarded. 
Throughout the day, Yone appeared somewhat… off, lost in his thoughts. Everyone noticed his change of demeanor and seemed to check on him frequently.
“Gee, Yone, are you alright? You look like you stayed up all night,” Ezreal asked him in the afternoon, noting how drained Yone seemed.
“I’m fine,” he answered flatly, his mind elsewhere.
Another time, he found himself behind the wheel of the car with K’sante beside him. “You good, Yone?” K’sante asked, noticing Yone's distant gaze.
“I’m fine,” Yone repeated mechanically. By now, it felt like he was a broken record, constantly reassuring others that he was okay when he really wasn't.
He knew this would get him nowhere, as he felt he desperately needed a clear space. So, as dusk began to settle, Yone decided to retreat to one place where he often found solace: the rooftop. 
•~•~•~•
After contemplating for what felt like an eternity, you decided to practice how you would confront Yone at a place where no one would usually go. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the rooftop as you ascended the stairs. You were rehearsing what you would say to him in your head, repeating it a few times as you walked to the spot you had in mind. 
However, when you reached the spot, you were taken aback to find Yone already standing there, overlooking the cityscape.
Crap!! Why is he here!? 
You knew you weren’t good in last-minute study and the exam was just right in front of you now. He seemed to notice your presence, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Reluctantly, you stepped closer to him, maintaining a reasonable distance, and faced the city view in the sunset. The air between you two was heavy with unspoken words, both of you itching to talk but unsure of where to start.
As the silence stretched on, you both seemed to come to the decision to speak at the same time.
“About yesterday…” you both began simultaneously, only to pause when you realized you had spoken at the same time.
“Go ahead,” Yone offered, his voice quiet and careful.
“Uh... you go first…” you replied, feeling the awkwardness settle in like a heavy fog.
Once again, silence enveloped you both, the tension palpable. You felt like screaming as loud as you could, but you knew you couldn’t back down now. You exhaled deeply as you began.
“Yone, I– I’m sorry about yesterday, I was all messed up. The alcohol–, I mean, I was…” you stumbled as the words you had prepared all got jumbled up in your throat. You paused before regaining yourself, and you continued. “But I feel like you need to know something,” you gazed up at him as he turned at you, finally meeting his gaze.
“The guy that I told you about… it was… you…,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. Instead, you focused on the ground beneath your feet, feeling a mix of nervousness and vulnerability.
You were about to speak again, but the wind suddenly picked up, blowing your hair into your face and blocking your view of the man in front of you. Before you could move to brush it away, you felt Yone's hand on your cheek, gently tucking the strands behind your ear. His touch was tender and caring, sending a jolt of surprise down your spine.
As you faced him directly, meeting his gentle gaze, he smiled softly at you. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a romantic glow over the moment.
“Y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity, “You don’t know how happy I feel when you told me that I was the guy in your story.” He chuckled softly as the dots finally clicked, “And I also owe you an apology, I believe.”
“H-Huh… so you don’t hate me…right?” you asked, still in disbelief at the turn of events.
Yone chuckled again at your incredulous expression. “I don’t think I would ever… I like you, y/n,” he admitted, the heat rising to his cheeks as he also casted his gaze to the side for a second. “I mean– not just as friends, but...”
Before he could finish his sentence, you moved forwards to press your forehead on his chest, feeling in total relief and joy as he confessed to you.
“I like you too, Yone,” you whispered, your voice filled with happiness and relief. “More than I can put into words.”
Yone held you close, his arms enveloping you in warmth and security. The world seemed to fade away as you both stood there, lost in the moment. It was a moment of pure bliss, in contrast to the chaotic night you had spent the night before. 
As you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, you could see the tender affection reflected in his gaze. You also noticed the faint pink shades starting to show up on his cheeks, which only made you giggle softly.
He’s also shy, how cute.
“I was getting really concerned about whatever I did yesterday that made you upset,” Yone confessed with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry, I should have been more expressive to show my feelings.”
“O- Oh, don’t apologize. I was definitely overthinking things,” you replied, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “I thought you were into that… super famous sexy lady…who’s on the…” Your voice trailed off as you recalled the memories from yesterday, embarassment creeping over you.
“I met her once at the premiere party, her producer introduced me to her, and we just had a plain talk, nothing more,” Yone explained with an amused smile. 
You grinned back at him, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Okay, so I was actually making a fool of myself.”
The tension between you both seemed to dissolve into laughter and shared understanding. It was a moment of pure relief and happiness, knowing that the misunderstandings had been cleared up.
“So, what now?” you asked, still grinning.
Yone took a moment to ponder before replying with a smile, “Well, I was thinking... maybe we could go on a real date this time? Just the two of us.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn't help but nod eagerly. “I would love that,” you replied, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. 
As the sun set behind the city skyline, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you both stood on the rooftop, arms in arms, looking towards the horizon. The city lights twinkled as the sky darkened, and the night breeze began to tingle against your skin. You released from the hug, taking in the beautiful sight.
Just as you were about to turn back, Yone stepped in front of you, offering his hand with a warm smile.
“How about dinner, tonight?”
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**Holding a megaphone outside your window**
I come graciously asking for your headcanon (s) on the OG ship on my blog Armyhorse (Zari X Dempsey)
Also hi Maddie!! I hope you’ve been doing good and I wish nothing but the best for you 💖💖💖💖💖💖
*Looks outside my window* HELLO THERE!! I wish nothing but the best for you as well! You've been working so hard as of lately. I have utmost faith in your success! 💖💖💖💖💖
Zari x Dempsey (ArmyHorse)
Dempsey wants a sweetheart grip of her. For reference, this is what some soldiers did in WWII for their loved ones to remember who they're fighting for. It adds as a compliment to the locket Zari has
Did you know Tank can be a total dork around Leta? He’s smooth most of the time, but she’ll pull off a double headshot somehow and he trips over his own words.
This includes getting himself in trouble when they first met in the barracks. Dempsey snuck into her medical office to talk. Only once did he get scolded from the officer who found out he was there when he had to be somewhere else. 10/10 worth talking to a beautiful woman
Leta really loves how Tank is actually a gentleman past his iron will in combat. He always looks out for her, making sure she’s okay, fetching perks beforehand, just about whatever she needs. Leta also supports Tank when he needs to open up about his feelings, especially after Griffin Castle. They’re each other’s rock and can at least count on each other in the Great War
In a Modern AU, these two would absolutely make so many weekend plans! I can see them playing billiards together after sharing drinks, having a getaway camping trip near a gorgeous woodland landscape, even a simple date at home where they can spend more time together. They like to keep it relaxed and down to Earth
Their biggest love languages are quality time and words of affirmation
They will still make-out at any given moment
Tank often has his arm around Zari when they sit next to each other. She leans into him when she’s tired
Free ship song again bc music is my life: Runaway by AURORA
One of the ship dynamics that describes them
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haejjoon · 1 year
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Do you have any headcanons w ex machina in regards to how the whole chase-and-tease thing between akira and akechi are gonna go w the parallel of phantom thief lwader versus detective (one scene from the og game would be the "welcome home honey" scene)
sorry anon i am working thru these one at a time 😭😭 been off tumblr for a good bit.
headcanons, headcanons.... honestly i'm surprised its taken this long for someone to ask regarding my plans for them since it IS tagged akeshu, but it's also a very slow burn so i suppose there's that HDKSJH
i think that the chase-and-tease is very prevalent (and integral to akeshu's dynamic) so i'm very excited to explore their typical roles swapped!! as of right now they're caught up in a literal chase—akechi avoids akira like the plague, and akira hunts him down for sport LOL (not on purpose though. it really has been a series of fateful coincidences; thanks a lot, yaldy)
i think what i'll have most fun with is exploring the "tease" part. both of them know much more than the other is letting on, and part of the enjoyment is watching them snipe at each other while keeping their defenses so high. while in-canon we don't get to see it as in depth as we could (since we're only shown the ""twist"" at the time akiren's plan's already come to fruition) i'll definitely have a lot of fun picking that apart in swap.
in terms of specific scenes, though. "welcome home honey" will probably stay; i can see akira saying it to akechi with a shit eating grin on his face. i already drew out small comics for their billiards games, but to recap: akira intentionally throws the games, and akechi refuses to use his left hand. only when akira shows his true strength will akechi respect his opponent and show off his true hand.
akira also just hangs out at leblanc a lot. despite living and working there part time, akechi is shit at coffee and curry (loses his patience often and just doesn't have the Barista's Touch) and so akira likes to hang around and show him up, makes coffee beautifully. sojiro asks akira if he'd live out in the attic instead. akechi pretends not to care that akira's better at him at this (god he so does.)
other than coffee/curry though, akechi beats akira at pretty much everything he challenges him to, though a lot of it's attributed to akira never really rising to the challenge. akechi puts his all into beating him and akira puts up a decent fight, but ultimately loses, again and again, because as fucked up as it sounds he knows that serving akechi's ego is what'll keep akira around. but over time, akira holds back less and becomes more and more invested into their little competitions—chess, darts, billiards, arcade games, batting, debates—and realizes that oh, oh, he likes this. he likes that akechi forces him to fight. it's fun, and it's dangerous, and he's in way too fucking deep by the time november rolls around because as much as he wants to fight against akechi fair and square, how is he supposed to oppose the whims of the masters of the game? he's just the pawn who pulls the trigger, and he prays for dear life that his standard bad luck (curse affinity) will fuck with the gamemasters for good. he's a trickster no matter what universe he's plopped in, huh.
anyway thank you so much for the ask anon <333 and im so sorry i'm only getting to you now!!
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Do you know what Homestuck is? Because I keep seeing it brought up as Tumblr culture and I literally didn't know it existed until a few months ago. If you do know, could you give me a brief synopsis? :/
Yeah, I know about Homestuck. I don't think I'd post videos with Tumblr posts about it if I didn't know Homestuck, and thought it was kinda cool and worth it to share. XD
It's really hard for anyone to give a brief synopsis of Homestuck. It's supposed to be longer than the entire Bible, after all! XD Nothing I or anyone says can it proper justice... Basically it's a webcomic with many different parts, or Acts, like a play. There are also intermissions, and parts of the story that are actually animated videos, or playable interactive games (or at least there used to be when Flash support was still a thing! I'm not sure how they adapted to that...)
Act 1 is mainly about 4 weird and quirky kids who are long distance friends and trying to play a simple computer game together, but their guardians keep getting in their way for some reason? The game they're playing turns out to kinda end the world though, and to this day I'm still not quite sure if the kids were fully aware that this would happen or not... :P
The Acts that follow make the story and their world a lot more complex and complicated, with tons more characters added on. There are alien creatures called trolls, each with their own unique quirks and personalities and representing the 12 zodiac symbols. There are other side-character creatures that represent chess pieces and billiard balls.
Homestuck fits in really well with Tumblr culture, because there are lots of points in the story where you'll be lost and not understand what the hell is happening, even when you're really far into the comic, but you just gotta roll with it and hope and pray that it all makes sense to you later down the line. There's confusing time travel and alternate dimensions involved, complicated relationship dynamics, and LOTS of reading chat logs between characters.
If you want to get into it yourself, I'd highly recommend seeing Voxus read Homestuck on YouTube, because they have a full cast of voice actors portraying all the characters, making the entire thing infinitely more interesting and easier to follow along!
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quill-of-thoth · 11 months
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Letters from Watson: The Greek Interpreter
Part 1: The fun bits
Oh boy we're gonna meet Mycroft
"Art in the Blood" I unironically adopted this as a kid for the long-standing family neurodivergence. We appear to have words in the blood instead, though most of us can draw competently.
Sherlock and Mycroft are seven years apart: if they were ever sent away to school this might explain a lot about their dynamic, as by the time Sherlock was five or six and could remember things well Mycroft would have been old enough to be sent to school. By the time Sherlock was at college (at either 17-18 or, if you're Baring-Gould, X) Mycroft was a few years into his career.
The rest is likely explained by the fact that Mycroft does not socialize. At all.
"No energy and no ambition" it seems like Mycroft may have gotten a very different format of the family depression than Sherlock.
Regent's circus is now known as Oxford Circus... it's an open square at the intersection of Regent Street and Oxford Street. Pall Mall is in an area of London by Trafalgar Square where a lot of government buildings are or were. Google Maps estimates Baker Street to Pall Mall as a 40 minute walk.
The first TWO times I read this series I did not get the reference for the Diogenes Club. Once, I was twelve. The second time I was halfway through a classics major and really should have known.
A Billiard-marker is apparently to a game of billiards what a golf caddy is to golf. Probably complete with problems getting paid.
A Sapper is a Royal Engineer... aka a trench digger. (They did other things too)
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megaderping · 10 months
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So much nasty Akechi hate on twitter today and it’s all the same BS. “He’s a serial killer who killed hundreds of people!!!” No, he’s an assassin, and where in the game did it say he killed hundreds?
“He killed Haru’s dad!”
Yes, but President Okumura ordered many of Akechi’s hits, worked his employees to death, was forcing his daughter into a loveless marriage with a man who clearly wanted her for her body, and was overall a terrible person. It would have been better for him to live with his change of heart and face his crimes, and Haru is right to grieve her father, but people ignore that Okumura was a shitty person who has many deaths on his hands.
Wakaba was entirely innocent, but Shido was the one who orchestrated her death, the fake suicide note, and shuffling Futaba through neglectful and abusive relatives on top of stealing her research. Kobayakawa and the SIU Director were shit people and while I think it woulda been better for them to live and face their crimes, their deaths were also ordered by Shido. He carried them out, certainly, and his plan was very reckless, but pretty much every Akechi fan likely is aware of this. It’s as bad as “Asgore kills kids lol”. Shido outright admits he instructed Akechi on how to use his abilities, threatens Akechi after the PT calling card by reminding him not to cross him... it’s such an awful, toxic power dynamic from which Akechi seemingly had no easy out, considering that Shido had a shit ton of powerful associates who, even after his change of heart, continue pulling strings. In both good endings of P5, they continue to pursue the Thieves.
Akechi got in too deep, and his murders were still murders, and yes, there was the attempted kill of Joker, but in Royal at least he tries to give Joker an out by offering him to work alongside him and ditch the thieves. The billiards hangout is also foreshadowing what he’s gonna have to do with Joker. Morgana calls out that he doesn’t really hate Joker, and in the end he does sacrifice himself and begs the PT to stop Shido.
...He also turns himself in, and instead of accepting an easy escape of consequences in Maruki’s reality, stands up to Maruki alongside the PT so they can return to their own reality, even if it means he could disappear. And, outside of True End with max confidant, he probably IS dead, and while it’s possible he survived in Max Confidant (devs even pointed out Maruki didn’t know if he died and that Akechi gets Endure if you max him), that doesn’t mean his crimes go away or everyone is bff with him.
Just baffles me that instead of shitting on the awful adults that molded Akechi into a killer, people shit on Akechi and his fans and use the same bland arguments.
Also... the “daddy issues” thing ignores the cultural context behind Akechi, like how awful life is for illegitimate children in Japan, how his mother took her own life, and just... yarrrrg. Nuanced and messy characters exist!
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a-crepusculo · 2 years
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An Introduction
Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Tobias Carrick x ? (F!OC); Dr. Ethan Ramsey x Dr. Marchia Bisognin (F!MC) Premise: A night at Donahue’s took an unexpected turn. Rating / Category: Teen / Slow Burn; A Side of Fluff Warning(s): None Word Count: 1004 words
A/N: Remember what I said on that taglist clean-up post? Yeah... Inspiration struck and I went with it. Suuuuuper-duper anxious of exploring this new dynamic, but I really do hope that y’all will enjoy this. 🤍
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A cacophony of inharmonious laughter unfurled across Donahue’s tonight. The place was far more crowded than its typical Saturday night, mostly swarmed with regular patrons and other guests, binge drinking after their weekend shift. If Tobias thought that this was a good place to clear his head and get some peace, then Ethan must be right—he was not as bright as he claimed to be.
Maudlin surgical interns were singing their hearts out in front of the jukebox, screaming tunelessly to George Michael’s Careless Whisper, while the other half guffawed at the pitiful sight. Near the pool tables, residents from Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore were commencing their monthly billiards competition, which would somehow always end with them having a dance-off.
Tobias walked through the buzzing throng, the lively spirit thrumming inside his veins. As he settle down in his usual seat near the end of the bar, he came up with a plan to get through the evening. The scheme involves: getting a drink, chugging it in three gulps, getting another alcoholic drink, taking said drink(s) to Ethan and Marchia’s booth, and spending the rest of the night asking them to ‘get a room!’ because they are sickeningly too flirtatious at this point. 
Plain and simple, right?
With a little bit of luck, he raised his hand and caught Reggie, who had swiftly placed his usual scotch in front of him. Days like these made him thankful that he was not an intern anymore; trying to get drunk from sugary shots that would send him straight to the dentist.
“One virgin mojito, please.”
A honeyed, melodious voice parted her away from the rest of the raucous tune that filled the space. She brought the fresh spring air with her—that long awaited, delicate floral scent pouring over him after a long drought. Her elbows hit the sleek wooden surface as she leaned against it.
Driven by primitive instincts, light blue eyes turned its gaze to unveil the unknown figure. He immediately blurted out the only thing he could think of.
“Hey.”
Smooth, Carrick. Real smooth.
“Hi there,” she replied.
Voluminous, lush curls spilled over her caramel skin—greeting him along with her dazzling smile. Warm lights accentuated her red silk dress; the lustrous fabric desperately clutching on to her sculptural form. It was the kind of dress that would catch everyone’s attention and leave them breathless, including himself.
“You new here?”
The young brunette paused a beat to dissect his suspicious question—though it was more likely that she could not hear his inquiry under this god-awful music.
“Perhaps,” she returned, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Is it that obvious?”
The sudden air of mystery thrilled him.
“To the eyes of an observer, yes.”
“An observer, or a creep?”
“A diagnostician, to be exact,” he playfully corrected. His response earned him an intrigued smirk, beautifully painted across her radiant face. “Tobias Carrick, at your service.”
“Hrm,” she grunted vaguely, swinging her head back and forth in acknowledgement. “I’m guessing you work at Edenbrook, then?”
“Yeah, though I’m still relatively new there. Used to work at Mass Kenmore.”
Another beat of pause.
She sipped her drink thoughtfully, before continuing with, “So, I’m also guessing that you were the one that ruined MK’s diagnostics team national ranking, then?”
“Whoa, slow down there. I did not—”
“On top of that, you abandoned your team and jumped ship when you heard Leland Bloom was hiring,” she interjected, her voice thick with coldness. “Impressive leadership skills you got there, champ.”
This time, Tobias was struck senselessly.
There was something angry weighing in her words, an urgency that made her remarks sharp and displeased. Aqua blue orbs stared into her hazel ones, his mind in a haze as he hopelessly tried to figure out who she was, or why she somehow already knew him. His dazed look mirrored his emotions. 
Before he could say his piece, however, she turned to the bar and clutched her drink, ready to leave the poor man hanging.
“Have a good night, Doctor Carrick.”
Words escaped him once more. Standing still, frozen like an ice, he was left with the view of the mysterious woman fading into the crowd of dancing bodies. Burned by his own thoughts, Tobias snapped himself out of this mental obscurity and gulped the rest of his scotch. He let his feet quickly carry him towards Ethan, tucked inside his booth.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the Chief of Medicine sneered, inspecting his colleague’s demeanor from head to toe.
He plopped himself down to the springy seat. “Actually, I met this girl, and—”
“Ah, your latest victim,” he deadpanned, shooting Tobias with a mischievous grin.
“Ha-ha, very funny, Ramsey. Now, where’s your girl?”
Ethan lifted a brow in question. “Why do you need Marchia?”
“I need her FBI slash detective skills to track her down.”
“Right. That’s not psychopathic at all.”
“Just...” he lowered his head in defeat, entirely too tired to argue with Ethan. “Tell me where she is, please.”
“Chia’s meeting an old friend and bringing her here. She’ll be here any sec— Oh! There she is.”
Ethan waved his hand from their booth, catching Marchia’s attention. She steadily made her way, separating the sea of rowdy horde with her tiny figure, and finally emerged victorious in front of their table.
“Hey, you two! Let me introduce my high-school buddy,” she turned to the direction of the dance floor, signaling her friend to come closer. “She just moved to Boston and got a job at MK as their Head of Diagnostics team!”
The sound of her heels, clicking against the marbled floor, was all to familiar in his ears. In a matter of seconds, the sharp noise stopped in front of them—his heart pounding, ready to burst out of his chest. With herculean strength, Tobias slowly lifted his head to meet his fate.
“Nyla Imani Hassan,” she offered her hand, the tiniest cocky grin on her face. “At your service.”
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Additional A/N: Please note that I am currently doing a Taglist Clean-Up, so my taglist is still a little bit messy right now. You can refer to that post if you want to be added or removed!
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donniesexceptionalmind · 10 months
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Ok you piqued my interest at ‘runaway black hole’ ✨
-Curious Anon again
Awesome! \(^○^)/
The object called 'Runaway Black Hole' resides near RCP28 (a star-forming galaxy, which is approximately 7.7 billion light-years away from us) & NASA's Hubble Space Telescope accidentally caught it.
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Credit: Credits: NASA, ESA, Pieter van Dokkum (Yale); Image Processing: Joseph DePasquale (STScI)
Well, reside is a low choice of wording because that object is traveling so fast that it could travel from earth to the moon in 14 minutes while weighing as much as 20 million suns.
Comparison: Light needs 8 minutes from the sun to get to earth!
It has left behind a never-before-seen 200,000-light-year-long "contrail" of newborn stars, twice the diameter of our Milky Way galaxy. It's likely the result of a rare, bizarre game of galactic billiards among three massive black holes.
It most likely escaped from its host galaxy.
There are several ways for a supermassive black hole to escape from the center of a galaxy.
The first step is always the merging of galaxys, which leads to the formation of a binary supermassive black hole at the center of the merger remnant. The binary can be long-lived and if a third supermassive black hole reaches the center of the galaxy before the binary merges, a three-body interaction can impart a large velocity to one of the supermassive black holes leading to its escape from the center.
Even in the absence of a third supermassive black hole, the eventual merger of the binary can impart a kick to the newly formed black hole through gravitational radiation recoil.
The velocity of the ejected supermassive black hole depends on the mechanism and the specific dynamics.
Generally, the kicks are expected to be higher for slingshot scenarios than for recoils, although in exceptional cases, recoils may reach approximately 5,000 km per second!
In both scenarios, the velocity of the supermassive black hole may exceed the escape velocity of the host galaxy, which leads to its escape into intergalatic space!
Identifying such runaway supermassive black holes is of obvious interest but difficult.
Have an artistic interpretation of it:
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Image credit: NASA / ESA / Leah Hustak, STScI.
Have a cookie if you read all that! 🍪
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mickmundy · 1 year
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thinking about the "merc cliques" in my medic x sniper fic. since this is set in post-comics, i think the mercs would just kind of... silently acknowledge that they're... all closer now? like not as much "drama" between them happens etc. they've all Grown Up a bit. so at this point i hc that they hang out together all the time so this is more like who sits with/near who and casual/niche things like that. not in any order!
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as usual, Elaboration under the cut!
i think for the most part this is pretty Average/To Be Expected, but i still enjoy slightly veering away from the "two-merc-matchups" that exist in a lot of fics out there and exploring other potential dynamics..!
technically spy and pyro could also be down there with solly in that they kind of Drift, but spy prefers heavy's company above anyone else's (because they're dating) and pyro likes baking, reading and drawing while listening to heavy, medic and spy talk. solly is free-roaming!
i also think pyro likes getting their Zoomies alone (values their own private time and personal space), then going and decompressing around their friends :) so sometimes heavy and spy's energy is just something they Gel with. i also think heavy, spy, demo, engie and pyro have a book club together that meets up once every two weeks!
spy hangs out with sniper semi-regularly but only one on one, usually giving advice or having some kind of much-needed heart to heart.. they sit on the hood of sniper's van and smoke together and Tell Nobody about their meetings or what they talk about LOL
heavy and medic meet up for tea fairly often; mann co's tea is horrendous but they enjoy each other's company and the "ritual" of it (it's important to heavy). medic and spy obviously hang out together because of heavy and enjoy each other's company too! medic really brings out spy's playful snark and heavy often has to reel them both in!
scout and spy are starting to try and navigate their "newfound" relationship as father and son so typically this is the time spy will do something with scout.. usually playing pranks on solly (that spy teaches scout) or the two of them baking with pyro (who is Quite Capable when it comes to culinary arts!)... their relationship is an Eternal work in progress but... it's in progress!
sniper likes having some beers and playing pool with engineer and demo (scout will join in if he doesn't have plans with another merc)..... if they can get him out of his van to do so! but once they do get sniper to hang out with them, sniper has a great time! he likes their energy and enjoys losing himself in a good billiards game now and then.
aaand obviously medic and sniper hang out together! their relationship progresses throughout my fics from awkward conversations in the infirmary to watching their birds fly together at sniper's van and talking about death (and life), and now flirting and baking together in medic's lab! :-) and we can only hope they'll get even closer...! hehehe!!!! <3
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frozenfries · 2 years
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hi hi!! could i request kay/o with a cyborg reader, say they lost an arm or something like that? aaaa idk i just really like the idea of kay/o bonding with a cyborg and they have a sibling type dynamic with kay/o constantly checking in on them to make sure their limb isn’t broken
Hey hey!! This is such an interesting idea; I had fun with it!
Rebuild (KAY/O x Reader)
Prompt: KAY/O supporting you after an accident.
Word Count: 446
• As a robot, KAY/O had a love/hate relationship with the occasional human emotions he felt.
• He enjoyed feelings of happiness with you, but disliked the sadness and anger he felt when you got hurt while out on a mission with him.
• He’d seen a lot of carnage in his alternate timeline life, but this time around was different.
• When he found you laying on the ground with a severed arm and gasping like a fish out of water, he saw red. It was game over for the enemy team.
• “No one walks away!”
• He would order you to close your eyes, as he doesn’t want you to see how violent he can be.
• “I'm about to go full killer robot. You've been warned.”
• Recovery was a road of ups and downs, but he was with you the whole way, from your operation to your rehabilitation phase and everything in between.
• Following your injury, he was not only like a brother figure to you, but a parental one too.
• In the beginning, he was almost overbearing, constantly checking in on you while you were resting to monitor your vitals or accompanying you everywhere to make sure you didn’t get hurt again. It took him a while to process that you were no longer in danger.
• He’d log times to take your medication and do exercises in his system to help keep you motivated.
• He would also look up jokes to recite to you when you felt down. His delivery would succeed in making you laugh, causing a “:]” to light up his face.
• Whenever Breach wanted to arm wrestle with you, KAY/O’s protective side came out and he would step in on your behalf, not passing up the chance to deliver a swift verbal jab while he was at it.
• “Breach, after this, billiards. I like taking your money.”
• The killing machine always won and to rub it in just a little more, “GG” would flash across his face post-match as you two high-fived and the Swede groaned in defeat (though he, too, was secretly happy to make you smile).
• KAY/O would do everyday life things with you like writing, drawing, cooking and cleaning just to support you in getting used to doing them with your new arm.
• Whenever you had questions about your arm’s mechanics, you went to him or Killjoy, who was interested in ways to enhance it.
• Omen would knit you two matching sleeves to wear during assignments together.
• With everyone’s support, maybe this new situation wasn’t going to be so bad.
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