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#everyone else sees them i guess. or hears about them except there's only like one person who i think would talk about me publicly
regenderate · 1 year
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this is very silly but i do get nervous when i see chibnall fans interacting with me just because i know a good number of chibnall fans with decent reach in the fandom really don't like me. like anyone is welcome to interact of course, but my takes on doctor who can be really polarizing, especially to chibnall era fans, and this has been a dealbreaker for entire groups of people.
probably at this point what it is is that i really do want to talk about the stuff that meant something to me, especially thirteen and yaz, but i honestly don't think chibnall era as a whole was very well executed. and the negative aspects cut deeper because some of the era really meant something to me. and i don't think it would be right to not criticize it, and that is personal on some level, but i also find criticism fun to an extent-- it scratches a similar itch to academia for me, but that's not how a lot of people want to engage.
and i am very much going to post critical takes on chibnall era, and i have the kind of autism where i'm not very good at making my phrasing less direct/blunt. nor do i think i should have to be honestly when stating my opinions, especially on my own blog, but i also know i can come off abrasive. (i promise i really really like good faith discussion!)
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reiding-writing · 3 months
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sweet Spencer realizing he has feelings for cold!Reader? I'm obsessed
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OH NO. [ONESHOT]
/oʊ noʊ/
Spencer makes a (rather terrifying) revelation in relation to his ice-hearted coworker, who might not actually be all that ice-hearted.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 2.3k || series masterlist!
a/n: based on the fact that it was 1°C when i left my house yesterday and i was freezing
main masterlist!!
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Sometimes, Spencer Reid hated living in Virginia.
The temperature always felt colder than it did back in Vegas, no matter whether it was in the dead of winter or in the middle of summer, and for someone who didn’t have the best temperature regulation already, that just spelled extra issues for Spencer to deal with on top of everything else.
It was March for god’s sake, why was it only 40 degrees?
He walks into the office bundled up like a newborn baby, with a shirt, a vest, and a coat on, with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and knitted gloves on his hands.
He sits down in his desk chair with all the grace of an elephant trying to do ballet, the chair squeaking under his weight as he basically throws himself into it.
Morgan starts laughing almost immediately. “You look like you’ve just stepped out of Antarctica-”
“It’s cold,”
“It’s not that cold,”
“Those who have issues with temperature regulation are more susceptible to extreme temperature fluctuations when the weather changes,” Spencer rubs his hands together through his gloves in the hope that the kinetic energy will spread through his hands and warm the rest of his body.
“And let me guess, you’re one of those people?” Morgan raises his eyebrow with a smirk.
“Yes Morgan, I’m one of those people,” Spencer’s exasperated response is enough to send Morgan over the edge into laughter.
“Will you quiet down, it’s 8 in the morning for god’s sake,” Your arrival is announced with your usual snark, tiredness still lacing your tone as you walk around the two to reach your own desk opposite Spencer’s and pull a white beanie from your head to stuff it in the pocket of your coat.
“Sorry-”
“Not you Reid,” Despite the fact that you’re dismissing him as the recipient of your annoyance, it still sounds like you’re angry at him.
“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Morgan nudges Spencer like he’s speaking to him privately, but is raised enough that he knows you’ve heard it too. “You would’ve thought she’d be elated, she’s in her element now the temperature’s dropping,”
“I can hear you.” you scoff out your words as you unpack your bag on your desk.
“Oh I know, it’s more fun when you can hear me,” Morgan takes a sip from the mug in his hands with a smirk, leaning back in his chair once he’s decided you’d endured enough of his teasing for now.
You spend the next ten or so minutes in silence as everyone sets themselves up for the day. Everyone except Spencer evidently, who is still sat with all of his outerwear on despite the office being internally heated.
“Will you stop shaking?” Spencer turns his eyes away from his frozen hands at your question, although phrased more like an instruction under your usual tone. “I can see it in my peripheral vision and it’s distracting,”
“Oh um- I’m sorry,” Spencer clutched both of his hands tight together in an attempt to forcibly stop them from shaking.
“Don’t apologise, go make yourself a cup of coffee or something, those gloves aren’t doing anything to help you,”
“Right- Yeah,” Spencer takes your advice with a nod, standing up from his desk to practically run over to the kitchenette like your word was law.
“I know what you’re doing Ice Queen,” Morgan tilts his head knowingly at you as you watch Spencer scamper around the corner and out of sight, and you don’t turn your gaze towards him even after Spencer leaves your field of vision.
“I’m not doing anything,”
“You care about Reid’s well being,” He throws a balled up post-it note in your direction, hitting you in the side of your head and acting as an incentive to look in his direction, shooting daggers at the bridge of his nose. “You can’t hide it from me sweetheart, your icy façade is melting as we speak,”
“Whatever,” You roll your eyes as you stand up from your chair, exiting the conversation with a scoff as you walk around the bullpen and disappear into the unisex bathroom.
You still haven’t returned by the time Spencer walks back to his desk with a steaming mug of coffee cradled in both hands, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at your empty desk chair as he took his seat.
“She just went to the bathroom genius she hasn’t disappeared off the face of the earth,” Morgan laughs in amusement at Spencer’s expression, staring at your chair like his gaze will magically will you into existence.
Then his vision goes dark, and he can hear Morgan’s laughter escalate. He’s not sure exactly what’s happening at first, but as his wind-chilled ears begin to warm and his eyelashes catch on something as he tries to open his eyes he realises that his vision has been physically obstructed by something.
He pulls up on the material covering his eyes, and like a magic trick, where your chair was empty before you are now sitting in it, head lowered to hide behind the screen of your computer monitor as Morgan continues to chortle at the two of you.
It’s a quick realisation that what was previously covering his eyes was a hat, specifically the white beanie that you’d walked into the office wearing this morning.
“What did I say?” Morgan gestures outwards with his hands like he’d proved some point to you that Spencer was clearly ignorant to.
“Shut your mouth or I’ll pull out all your teeth and do it for you,”
“Ooh I’m so scared, Reid protect me from this absolute monster,” Morgan presses his hand to his chest dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a smirk etched onto his face.
Spencer doesn’t so much as spare Morgan a glance at his comment, blankly staring in your direction as his brain computes what exactly had just happened. He was wearing your hat now? You’d put your hat on his head? You’d walked over, taken your hat, and physically put it on his head?
Under normal circumstances he’s sure he’d die of embarrassment at so much as the thought of having something that personally belonged to you in his possession, let alone be actually wearing something the belonged to you and invaded his olfactory neurons with your scent.
Yet here he was, so absolutely dumbfounded by your actions that he didn’t even have the mental capacity to be embarrassed.
“Reid,” Morgan nudges his shoulder, and Spencer turns to him with wide eyes and a half-absent expression.
“Huh?”
“Wow, look what you did to him, he’s completely shut down,” Morgan throws another balled up post-it in your direction, hitting you in the shoulder this time, and you bite your tongue as you turn your head up to look at the two boys across from you once more.
Your eyes are narrowed as you glare in Morgan’s direction, but he takes no notice of it whatsoever as he gestures towards Spencer with his head, smirking all the while.
Your gaze is substantially softer once your eyes flicker over to the boy sitting opposite you. The hat really seems to complete the whole ‘just stepped out of a blizzard’ look that Spencer’s outfit seemed to radiate, and the bright red of his cheeks seemed to amplify that look tenfold.
“Are you still cold?” You ask the question like you’re annoyed at him, and he takes it as your irritation from Morgan’s constant teasing bleeding into your speech rather than you genuinely being irked by him. After all, you had gone out of your way to help him warm up right? Then again that could’ve been because you just didn’t want to watch him shiver anymore. You did say it was distracting-
“Reid.” He turns his eyes up towards you as you speak his name with all the conviction of an aggrieved high school teacher.
“Yes? I mean- Not ‘yes’ I’m cold- ‘yes’ like I’m paying attention- You know- Uh-” You hold up a hand to stop Spencer from spinning into a spiral as he tries to elaborate on what his response meant.
“You’re not cold anymore?” You keep your eyes trained on him as you ask the question, emphasising it a way that indicated you wanted a straight answer from him and not some half baked explanation of why he was/wasn’t.
“No… Well, my hands are-” Spencer stops himself prematurely with a shake of his head. “No- No I’m not cold anymore, I’m okay now,”
“Your hands are still cold?”
Spencer nods, looking down at his hands sheepishly as if they've betrayed him.
You watch Spencer's hands for a moment before making a decision. With a resigned sigh, you reach into your coat pocket and pull out a small red hand warmer, holding it out over the divide between your desks to offer it to him without a word.
Spencer's eyes widen in surprise as he takes the hand warmer from you, a sinking feeling shooting through his chest as your fingers brush his. But it wasn’t the kind he’d grown accustomed to when speaking to you.
There wasn’t a shred of intimidation or lingering insecurity, it didn’t send a chill down his spine or make him feel the need to curl into himself, it instead left a strangely comfortable warmth in it’s wake, one that was quickly proving to be more useful at warming him up than the gel packet held between his fingertips.
It was a sensation he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually felt before, and his mind couldn’t make up whether it’s origin was the temperature difference in your hands as they brushed each other and the inherent warmth of your hand graced his, or whether it was an internal situation where your silent act of consideration was literally tricking his body into believing it was warmer just as a result of your actions.
Either way, he suddenly felt very warm.
He fumbles with the warmer for a second before tugging off his gloves and snapping the small disk to start the chemical reaction. "Thanks," he murmurs, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Don't mention it," you reply, turning back to your computer screen with complete nonchalance in your tone.
Spencer nods softly at your response, rolling the packet between the palms of his hands as his eyes linger on your face even after you look away.
Spencer’s beginning to be increasingly distracted from his files by thoughts of you. Your hidden kindness, your wit, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way you chew on the end of your pen when you're concentrating, the way your nose scrunches up when you're deep in thought-
He realises, with a jolt, that he's falling for you.
It hits him like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, he's paralysed with a mix of astonishment and fear. How had he not noticed it before? He's never been good at relationships, maybe that’s why. He didn’t exactly know what constituted as real feelings for someone.
Morgan watches the exchange with a smirk, but there's something softer in his expression as he looks between the two of you, specifically towards the puddle of Spencer’s emotions showing all over his face. He clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence.
"Well, now that everyone's warm and cozy, shall we get to work?" he says, trying to inject some levity into the situation.
Spencer nods, already diving into the case file on his desk as a means of desperately trying to get the image of your face and the feeling of your fingers brushing against his hand out of his head. You follow suit, the warmth spreading through the bullpen as you all settle into your routine.
He tries to focus on the case at hand, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. He remembers the feeling of your hand brushing against his, the way his heart had fluttered in his chest at the contact. It's a feeling he can't quite shake, and he's not sure he wants to. That was the worst part.
Oh no.
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lovers-rck · 7 months
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you want to get better at kissing, so you ask your friend ellie to give you some tips
fluff ? i guess. modern au
"how do you kiss someone?"
ellie looks at you "what?"
"do you have some tricks?" you asks
the past few months had been rough, the cold winter burned the cheeks of everyone, red noses and big scarfs were the last fashion tendency in campus. for the last few days you were drown in warm and cozy clothes, swimming through hot chocolate and watching christmas movies.
today wasn't the exception. after your last class of the day, you went to ellie's dorm and you both watched a movie in her laptop, ellie handing you her cup of hot chocolate every once in a while.
"what? no" she replies
"then how do you do it?"
"why are you asking me that? you kissed people before"
you roll your eyes "yeah, when i was like twelve years old" you make a disgusted face at remember that "he licked all my face"
ellie laughs
"i dont know. i kiss like everyone else"
"all the girls in my class talk about how you kiss them"
ellie furrows her eyebrows "i kissed one of your classmates?"
you roll your eyes "it would be easier to answer who you didn't kiss ellie"
"what is that supposed to mean?"
"i don't know" you shrug "do you have some tips for me?"
"avoid the excess of tongue"
"ellie!"
"okay sorry!" she says, thinking "i don't know. im not an expert"
"you kissed a lot of girls"
"so?"
"that means that you know something i don't!"
"how to flirt maybe"
you throw a pillow in her face, your cheeks getting red in anger "forget it"
you place your eyes in the movie again, seeing scenes and hearing dialogues but not really paying attention. you were swimming in a pool were the water was made of thoughts and questions.
"i can show you" you heard ellie say after a couple of minutes.
you swim to the top of the pool, getting out. "what?" you replie
she shrugs, her eyes still on the movie "only if you want"
you watch the laptop again, trying to process ellie's words.
"wouldn't that be weird?" you asks
"it doesn't have to be" she says and in her stomach a bunch of butterflys fight eachothers "it's for educational purposes"
you laugh softly, your fingers playing with the seam of your sweather "okay"
ellie finally looks at you "yeah?"
you nod, a funny smile resting in your face "okay" she says and moves the laptop away, making space as she taps her lap "here"
your eyes go wide "what?"
"what? i thought you wanted me to show you"
"yeah" you say "i just didn't know i have to sit in you"
"oh" she says, her cheeks getting red "you don't have to. sorry"
you nod slowly. an awkward silence sits between both of you.
after a few seconds, you start to move towards her. she offers her hand and you take it. your knees swim in the sea of blankets as you follow the path to her body.
your mind is fuzzy when you sit in her legs, her hands resting in your hip "okay" you sigh
"you okay?" she asks, looking in your eyes some answer
"yeah" you nod "you are warm"
ellie laughs and her vibrations resonate in her body, making your body shift slightly. you hold back a whimper with the faint suspicion that you shouldn't feel that way.
"im gonna kiss you now" she announces, you nod "just follow my lead"
"follow your lead" you repeat, your hands in her shoulders "got it"
ellie grabs your face with a soft grip, moving it gently to her lips.
you take a deep breath when for the first time ever she places her lips over yours. she leaves them there for a couple of seconds, warming your own before continuing. you feel her other hand caressing your waist over your tick hoddie.
ellie's kiss is soft and sweet, her lips moving against yours with such tenderness. you try to follow her, frustrated with your own inexperience "relax" she murmurs "no one is rushing us"
you try to relax. you direct your hands towards her neck, unconsciously caressing her skin with your thumb and gaining a few shivers on her part. you laugh softly, breaking the kiss as ellie laughs too "you got me there" she says, her breath hitting your lips "you want to keep going?"
you smile against her lips as you realize that you both were talking in whispers, like children sharing a secret "yes" you whisper, and this time you start the kiss.
you feel more confident now, opening your mouth a bit. ellie takes that as an invitation and turns the kiss in something deeper, moving her hand to your jaw.
you shiver as you kiss her back the same way, this time more hungry, less delicate. ellie handles your face the way she wants, moving it to the side to deepen her assault on your mouth.
you feel your breath getting louder as the seconds pass, her grip getting stronger in your body. you shift in her lap, your chest against hers , chasing that proximity and more.
the moment ellie slips her tongue in your mouth you moan softly, breaking the kiss "sorry" you murmur, completely embarrassed
"too much?" she asks, placing a strand of hair behind your ear.
you shake your head "i just didn't expect it" you replie "what should i do if someone wants tongue?"
ellie ignores the needle of jealousy that pinch her at thinking about someone else kissing you "it's up to you. if you like kissing with tongue and the other person too then go ahead"
"i don't know if i like it" you make a face "it's kinda weird"
on impulse, ellie replies "do you want to keep trying?" you look at her "to see if you like it, i mean" she adds, awkward.
you hide a smile and nod, feeling ellies mouth the very next second, wasting no time.
this time she does the tongue thing again and you decided that you like it. it's all wet and warm, and a bit weird at first, but ellie plays with your mouth in a way that makes you melt.
her hands navegate over the waist of your hoddie, trying to move you closer to her. you hug her by the neck, your fingers ghosting over her hair.
in the kiss, a weird feeling invades you. you feel weird, weird of kisssing your friend like this, of being sitting in her legs, of liking it. ellie grabs you and touch your face and kiss you and when she touch the exposed skin of your hip you realize that this wasn't a practice anymore.
"ellie" your murmur with agitated breath
and she understands, leaving your lips "sorry" her lips are red and swollen
you make an awkward smile and get off her lap, instantly missing her warm essence. you see how ellie plays with her fingers, nervous
you watch the laptop, the movie still on. outside is snowing. you feel warmth in places that you shouldn't.
"how did i do it?" you ask playfully, trying to lighten the atmosphere
ellie catch your intention and shrug her shoulders, making a funny face "i had better"
you laugh and push his shoulder lightly, pulling the blankets off her bed "i say the same thing"
"yeah, i bet that boy from when you were twelve kissed you better" she jokes and you throw a pillow to her face one more time.
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kyber-crystal · 19 days
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red thread || jake “hangman” seresin
summary: fate has a funny way of bringing people together, and it’s made no exception for you and hangman. you’ve grown up together; there's not a day that goes by in which you aren't glued to each others' sides. as kids, you promised each other that if you were still single at 30 you'd get married. but when that day finally arrives, you wonder just how much things will change.
words: ~2.3k
warnings: nothing. unless you’re like me and commitment scares you, then yeah lmao. hangman is an absolute gentleman in this though :) biggest TW is my writing...sorry. idk what happened. some slight mentions of angst and injury but nothing graphic :)
a/n: mannn my writing has gone downhill idk how yall other talented writers do it. i wish i could write that well 😭but, i’m proud of this...plotwise, at least! (my fics are doing so bad for some reason while everyone else seems to be blowing up??? idk) btw, the first part of this fic takes place two years before tgm
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It was 1:30 a.m, and you couldn’t fall asleep. 
It seemed that Hangman had the same idea as you as he told you to meet him outside the Hard Deck in five. The coastal air and Jake Seresin was the perfect combination to help you unwind, so of course you said yes. 
“There she is,” he grinned as he offered a helping hand. “My favorite fellow insomniac.”
“Nightmares keep you up, Jake?” you teased. “What’s the matter this time?”
“Same as you. Don’t feel like sleeping yet,” Hangman answered. “Can you believe it? We’re awake, and Fanboy and Payback aren’t.”
“Now that’s a first,” you laughed. “Thought I’d never live to see that day, but here we are.”
“We’re making history day by day.”
“You know…sometimes,” you breathed out as you rested your head on his shoulder, “I wonder what it’d be like if we never met.”
“Didn’t you ask that same question fifteen years ago?”
“We were much younger back then. It’s different now.”
“Well, then…I don’t like to imagine it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”
“It’d be weird. You’ve always been a big part of my life, so to think you almost could’ve not been in it…it’s weird. Uncomfortable, even.”
“Yeah, it is weird…” your voice trailed off as you lingered on the thought. You’ve always done everything together. How different would your lives be now if you hadn’t become friends; hadn’t stayed in touch through college? “But don’t be sad, because I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”
Hangman gave you a light punch in the arm. “I’m not complaining.”
“Good.”
“You know, Y/N…there’s one more thing.”
“Uh oh.”
“Hear me out,” he started. “Remember that deal we made when we were kids?”
“The one about helping each other bury a body if needed, or getting married?”
“The second one…I thought the first was a given since the day we met. That’s something all friends are supposed to do for each other, right? Bury bodies, hide their trails…all that good stuff.”
“What about the second one?”
“We’re turning 30 soon,” he recounted. Any and all traces of cockiness were completely wiped off his face. “And we said that if we’re both still single by the time our 30th birthdays roll around, we’d get married.”
You smiled as you revisited the memory: wide-eyed and curious, and so blissfully unaware with the only worry in the world was whether you’d grow up together or not. “You still remembered all that?”
“Of course I did. You still in, or what?”
“I guess so…I mean, what else do I have to lose?”
The two of you fall back into your comfortable silence, and he wraps you up into his arms. 
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TWO YEARS LATER
As usual, the base is busy and rather chaotic: day after day you’re busy filing reports and training. This causes you to become prone to forgetting the littler things in your life, so you assign Bob to keep track of them for you. He had the best memory of anyone you knew—that man kept mental notes of everything. 
“What do I have to do today, Floyd? Any events…”
“Uhhh…” Bob thought for a moment as you took a long drink of water. “Dinner with Phoenix. Do laundry. Don’t get yelled at by Cyclone for the 19th time (You’re only one point behind Bradshaw, he’s at 20). Grocery shopping. And most importantly…yours’ and Hangman’s birthday.”
“Oh, shit, I completely forgot,” you swore under your breath. “How could I forget…”
“You have some time, so don’t worry. Five days.”
“Only five days?” your eyes widened. “I have to run through four more simulations over the next two. I can’t plan everything in the remaining three.”
“If you pay Garcia in Doordash deliveries, he’ll help out. You know he minored in art.”
“That’s…actually not a bad idea.”
After you finish your final exercise that week, you pass out, but luckily, Hangman’s right there to catch you so you don’t get a concussion. Bless that man—he always seemed to be around wherever you went and you were very grateful for it. 
You were delirious and couldn’t walk straight, so as much as you claimed you were okay, he wouldn’t believe you. 
“I’m taking you home because you’re in no condition to be wandering around by yourself. The birthday planning can wait. You’ve tired yourself out enough as it is and you don’t want to make things worse.” So you let him help you get into his car, then drive you home and lead you inside. Then, he forced you to go upstairs to take a hot shower and relax while he cooked up dinner for you. 
Though Hangman admired your determined spirit, it scared the hell out of him because you wouldn’t know when to stop yourself. 
“I got that from you though! Who’s the one I spend the most time around?” you’d claim in response to that  argument. You weren’t wrong—it was a quality you picked up from him many years ago.
You woke up the next morning to the smell of French toast and jam, which lessens the tension in your shoulders right away. Amidst the early morning light drifting through the windows he stands out like a priceless work of art in a museum. You struggle to tear your eyes off him. 
Rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, you rested your chin on his shoulder and exhaled. “Hey.”
“Morning. You sleep okay? How’s that headache of yours?”
“I’m alright.” You closed your eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon sugar. “This smells nice.”
If Hangman was tired, you couldn’t tell. “Woke up at 6:30 to relearn the recipe for you. It’s been a while, it took three burnt batches to get the hang of things.”
“You woke up an hour early to cook for me?” 
“Why else? Of course I did,” he stated matter-of-factly. 
You sat down at the kitchen island together and ate your breakfast in silence. Something about this moment feels more domestic than all the others you’ve shared in the past, and you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of eternity like this...
“Y/N, there’s some honey on your chin.”
You blinked, trying to find it. “Where?”
“Hold on a sec.” Hangman took his napkin and rubbed gently at the corner of your lip to wipe it off. For a brief moment, you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face. You stayed as still as possible. “There.”
If anyone looked in from the outside, it was another simple day in the life of a longtime couple. But for you and Jake, it’s always been like this. Showing up at each others’ place wasn’t unusual for either of you; if anything, it was quite normal. 
“...Thanks.”
“Yeah. You got any ideas in mind? For the big day.”
“Whatever you want is what I want.”
“Funny enough, that’s what I was about to tell you,” he replied.” 
You locked eyes with each other and laughed. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure we will.”
Less than three days until everything as you knew it would change forever...if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified. What if he changed his mind and left you in the dust, all alone? You weren’t ready to face the cold truth. 
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Hangman offered a simple celebration: food and drinks at the Hard Deck with the crew, then some karaoke if you were up for it after. He starts it off by serenading you at the bar, reaching a hand out to you as he sang your favorite Billy Joel track. You let him lead you out to the dance floor and spin you around, and he’s equal parts addicting as he is entertaining. 
Thirty candles, and you agree on blowing out fifteen each—somehow, by some miracle, you manage to do exactly that, and it’s perfect. Then Fanboy yells that he and Rooster want a rematch with you in Just Dance…so you go at it for two hours straight, until sweat is dripping down your face and your sweater grows hot. 
You’re burnt out, and he can see the look in your eyes as you step aside to let Phoenix play. “You want to head out? There’s something I want to show you.”
You nod. “Okay.”
He gives Maverick a look, and the captain shoots him a subtle nod in return. He takes this as his signal to put his hand on the small of your back and lead you out the door. 
You can’t help but laugh a little as you get outside. “Is this Mav’s motorcycle?”
“No…” Hangman shifts from foot to foot, feigning cluelessness. 
“Did you steal it?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s his, isn’t it.”
“Look, he let me borrow it for the night. It’s not stealing if he says it’s okay…besides, he never noticed when I did steal from him last week—”
“What did you—do you even have a motorcycle license?”
“Got it a year ago. I thought, ‘maybe I’ll take my best girl on a ride someday, so who knows if it’ll come in handy’. So here we are now.”
“That’s very sweet.”
“Alright, now come on.” He swung his leg over the side and motioned for you to sit behind him. The cushion was not in fact, cushiony, and you found yourself growing colder by the second.
The bike burst forward without warning. You let out a small yelp and immediately wrapped your arms around Hangman’s waist—which was ridiculously firm…had he been working out more lately?—as you went speeding down the road. 
“If I die, I’m gonna kill you and haunt you in your sleep,” you mumbled into the fabric of his jacket. “Even in death, I’ll stick to you always.”
“That sounds both morbid and weirdly romantic.”
“Shut up.”
Several minutes later you found yourselves by the cliffs, standing high over the ocean, and deja vu hits almost right away. After we go on this make up date, he had said, I’m going to find that guy who messed you up and mess him up. Then we’re going to go home, I’ll let you wear any of my sweatshirts you want, and we’ll watch true crime. One where someone like that jerk dies. Okay? Okay.
You’re miles away from Top Gun, miles away from your jet and your uniform and everything you’ve ever known, but you’ve never felt more at home than now. It’s in this moment in which you realize all you really need in the world is Jake, the sky above you, and the sea below you. 
Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that he’s getting fidgety. He can’t stop stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets or running them through his hair—he’s restless. The action takes you by surprise a bit. 
“Why are you all tensed up?” you questioned. “It’s just me and a nice sunset. We’ve done things like this many times.”
“But it’s not just you and a sunset,” he explained. “I’m supposed to be asking you the most important question of our lives. That’s a big deal, sweetheart.”
Your heart spluttered to a stop. “Are you…”
“Let me finish,” Jake cut in. “If you could be quiet for a few minutes…that would help. I’m nervous.”
“Jake Seresin, nervous?” you teased. “That’s a first.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Give me a break.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice…for now.”
“I haven’t slept at all in the past week. I went to eleven different jewelry stores around San Diego but nothing seemed to scream ‘Y/N’. So, I decided to take a trip out of state.” He cleared his throat, and reached into his jacket pocket. You saw his hand shake as he did so. “Out of the country. That mini mission I went on while you were training? I was in Canada. Victoria, to be specific. Maverick and Rooster came along to help out.”
Now in his hand was a small velvet box, and inside was the most breathtaking ring you’d ever seen. “Diamond and ruby. They don’t sell plain red strings for rings…so I had them design this. The red thread of fate…the one that brought you into my life. We were kids when we promised to spend our lives together, if circumstances permitted. And I know we might’ve been young, but I’d be lying if I said I could imagine myself with someone that wasn’t you. There was a part of me that wished you wouldn’t find anyone before this day came along. It’s you, Y/N. It always has been.
“I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to give you a long, cheesy speech about divine power and soulmates. But I’m going to tell you this: you’re my forever, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s getting cold out so I’ll cut to the chase: what I’m saying here is that I’m asking you to marry me.”
The world fell silent as you replied with a shaky nod, holding out a trembling hand as Jake slid the golden band onto your ring finger. Neither of you made a sound, and you swore you felt time stop and the ground crack wide open beneath your feet.
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tags, including those who may be interested: @callsignbarb @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @dilfsandtherapy @purelyfiction @yeehawnana @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @newlibrary @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @thisismypointofview @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @lunamooncole @coastingline @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @midnightdevotion @julia-marshal @anya7802 @bittergomez @and-claudia @cosm1cfae @tallrock35 @uwiuwi @elenavampire21 @aerangi @hoedameronsworld @whotfatemywaffles @littlebadariell
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redstarwriting · 1 year
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the clash | iv. london calling
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2.8k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst
a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)
now reading: iv. london calling
previous chapter: iii. black planet
next chapter: v. ever fallen in love
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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”
“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”
“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”
“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”
“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”
“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”
“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.
“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”
“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”
“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”
“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.
“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”
“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”
“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“I’ll make you.”
“Try me, Hobart.”
“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”
You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.
“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”
With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.
“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”
“And you didn’t offer any to them?”
“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”
“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”
“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”
“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.
“Do you know how to have any fun?”
“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“Don’t care. The answer is no.”
“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”
“You actually want to share with me?”
“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”
“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”
“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”
“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”
“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”
“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”
“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”
“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”
“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”
“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”
“I helped you today, love.”
“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”
“Hmm?”
“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.
“Why not?”
“What?”
“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”
“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”
“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”
“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”
He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”
“Doing what?”
“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”
“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”
“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”
“Great.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”
“I’ll do what I want.”
“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.
He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.
He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.
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Porcelain Steve
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
Eddie is, perhaps, the only person who seems to be handling the fact Steve has been turned into a porcelain doll in a level-headed sort of way. Probably because he's the newest person to be privy to Upside Down shenaniganary and quiet honestly just thought 'ah. Of course. Why wouldn't something like this be possible?' instead of freaking out and screaming like everyone else.
"It's a physical impossibility, Robin!" Dustin shouts.
"Well, we thought monsters didn't exist before, but guess what-" Robin is shouting back.
"The monster situation was scientifically plausible, now proven scientifically true! Transforming a living person into a doll is magic, and magic isn't real!"
"It fucking is now! Look at Steve!! Look at him!" Robin, who is holding Porcelain Steve, shakes him in Dustin's face, complete with the clack of porcelain on porcelain.
Eddie isn't even fully aware he moved from his spot on the couch in the Byers-Hopper living room until he's snatching Steve out of Robin's hands with the thought of 'he gets migraines too easily for you to shake him like that' and then is left wondering if little Porcelain Steve can get migraines. "Stop waving him around like a flag, Buckley. Porcelain is fragile, you could break him."
It's a testament to how worried Robin really is about breaking Steve that she doesn't instantly rip him back out of Eddie's hands like she had when Nancy had first picked him up.
"We don't even know that's Steve," Dustin has never been gracefully about potentially not being right and now is no different.
"I know that, Henderson!" Eddie snaps, pulling Steve to his chest in a protective two armed hug, "But wouldn't you feel like shit if this is Steve, somehow magically changed, and we've accidentally murdered him by busting his little porcelain face?"
That brings Dustin to a pause and Robin starts up again, backed by Will now.
Eddie retreats, not back to the couch, but out the front door and away from the arguments. Aside from hating the sound of people yelling at each other himself, he doesn't want Steve to hear it either. Steve only enjoys an argument he can be bitchy in, and he can't really participate.
That is, if Steve can even hear anything. If this is actually Steve changed, and not just the creepiest ransom threat left in the form of a perfectly porcelain replica. Down to the moles on his face and the scars on his torso, which Robin had claimed felt like paint when she'd ran a shaking finger over them.
He sits down gently in the front lawn, crisscrossing his legs and lays Steve in the cradle they create. Blank hazel eyes stares up unblinking into the sun and Eddie finds himself hovering a hand above Steve's face to... protect his eyes, he supposes. He'll admit to feeling a little embarrassed about doing it -anyone walking down the street could see him shielding the eyes of a doll in his lap- but if Steve is trapped in there, can see out those eyes, well, he'd rather do the kind thing and be little embarrassed about it.
"Don't know if you can hear or not, Harrington," Eddie says, "but worry not. If anyone can figure out how to return you to your flesh prison, it's this crew. Not that you need my assurance on that. You know what they're capable of better than I."
It's quiet on the front lawn except for the occasional car rolling down the street or dog barking somewhere down the road. Eddie's never been a fan of quiet, so he talks to fill the silence. Not about anything really important. He recaps the current Dungeons and Dragons campaign he's running for Hellfire, which has been relocated to Jeff's dining room for the summer.
"And Will, very smart strategist that one, delayed his turn in initiative -that's the order they take turns in in combat- to cast Fireball in the room once everyone had run out of it. Worked great, especially since several of the creatures were invisible at the time and-" Eddie goes on, interrupting his own story to explain mechanics, or spells, or give backstory on why something was important, so that Steve wouldn't be too confused about everything. It probably all still sounds like a foreign language to him, or he's just tuned Eddie out, but Eddie would like to think that Steve would appreciate it.
Eddie sits outside long enough for his butt to go numb and for the sun to shift lower in the sky before he hears the front door open and close and Robin sits herself down next to Eddie.
"Come to some sort of agreement yet?" Eddie asks, turning his face towards Robin.
"No," Robin sighs, reaching a hand out. At first, Eddie thinks she's going to take Steve but she just pets at his hair for a moment before pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "El's got an idea, though. Don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. She's going to try and find Steve, y'know, with her mind. Someone will come let us know what she discovers, so no rush to head back in."
"Oh," Eddie replies dumbly, looking from Robin down to Steve. They sit quietly for a few minutes before Eddie says, "Is it wrong of me to hope that this is Steve?"
"Depends on why you hope that's Steve, I guess."
"'Cause then we know he's safe," Eddie says softly, almost a whisper. "'Cause if this is Steve then he's not... not kidnapped somewhere, alone, maybe being beaten up or tortured or- those things happen far too often."
"Then no. It's not wrong to hope. I think right there in your lap is probably the safest place Steve's been, well, ever."
"I don't know Buckley, he was pretty safe in your hands."
"I shook him around like a ragdoll, Munson," Robin levels him with a look, "I'm woman enough to admit I get caught up in my nerves and don't think of consequences. I'm not, like, the number one klutz or anything but it didn't even occur to me that we could really hurt Steve until you said it. Like, what if what happens to the doll actually happens to Steve? What happens if his arm shatters or-" she cuts herself off to pull in a shaky breath.
"Nothing is going to happen to Steve," Eddie says, voice more confident than he truly feels but comforting Robin is important. Steve usually grounds her with some bitchy look and sarcastic phrase but he's not close enough to Robin for him to be sure he wouldn't just be insulting her instead of joking. "I won't let anything happen. You won't. No one in that house would."
A deep breath from Robin, then, "yeah. You're right. You hear that Steve? We've got you, and nothing's going to happen to you except becoming a real boy again."
Eddie huffs out a laugh and sits in the quiet with Robin, waiting to be called back inside once El has made contact with Steve.
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wordsbyrian · 3 months
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Bad Days and Zoo Trips - HarderssonKid!R x Niamh and Jessie
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Summary: sometimes all it takes to make a bad day a little bit better is going to see your favorite animals at the zoo. (the request was more hardersson x kid!r)
A/N: who wants to guess how many different ideas this started as before it landed on this?
You are having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
It all started this morning when Morsa told you that you had to go to nursery because your babysitter got sick and they couldn’t take you to practice because they had grown up things to do afterwards. Then when you were getting dressed Momma wouldn’t let you wear your Barcelona jersey with Moster Frido’s name on the back (because it's dirty) so you have to settle for wearing one of Tante Simone’s Hammarby shirt’s.
The terrible horrible no goodness continues at breakfast when you have to eat pancakes instead of waffles because there are none. And Morsa doesn’t even put any fruit in it like normally does when you have waffles.
You cry the whole way to nursery, where things do not get any better.
When you get there, a little boy that you don’t recognize is sitting in your normal spot on the rug and Miss makes you sit somewhere else when you ask him to move.
That little boy, Zac, continues to make your day worse at every possible turn.
After the rug incident, he takes the last seat at the lego table even though your friend Jamie had been saving it for you. When your class goes outside, he refuses to let you play football and then when the teachers make him, he keeps shoving you over. But, of course, Miss only notices when you shove him back and so you get put in timeout.
When you get back inside, after naptime, Miss tells the class a story about Vikings from Sweden, and the day improves for all of about 2 minutes when she lets you tell everyone about the Viking museum you went to the last time you visited Stockholm. But it goes sour again when Zac keeps cutting you off and even says that girls weren’t allowed to be vikings, which is just completely untrue.
That unfortunately, is your breaking point and before you even realize it, you’re across the room shoving the boy over. And just as quickly, Miss has grabbed you around the waist and is hauling you over to the timeout stool.
After 5 minutes, she comes back and brings you over to say sorry to Zac, except you don’t. Instead you start a rant in Swedish about Vikings, and well both your refusal to apologize and the Swedish (something you’ve been warned about in the past) land you back in the timeout where you stay for the rest of the day.
You’re not sure how long it really is but it feels like forever before the sound of two familiar voices have you turning around to face the rest of the classroom.
You only need to catch a glimpse of them before you're off the stool and barrelling towards them at fool speed barely dodging the other kids who are still waiting to get picked up.
“Jessie, Niamh,” you all but shout, slamming directly into the Englishwoman's legs, “Why are you here? Where’s my Momma and Morsa?”
Before either of the athletes have a chance to answer, Miss speaks instead.
“Y/N, I know you’re very excited to see your friends but that’s no excuse for running or shouting indoors.”
“Sorry, Miss.” Even to your own ears you don’t sound very sorry. “I’m going to get my things.”
You dart back off across the classroom, only slowing down slightly when Miss calls out after you.
It takes you less than a minute to grab your things and come back, immediately shoving your jumper and backpack into Niamh’s hands.
“No way, kid, we’re under strict instructions to make sure that you wear this,” the defender says.
“No thank you, bye Miss,” you say, taking Jessie’s hand and leading her out of the classroom and the building.
You can hear Niamh laughing as she follows behind, still holding your jumper, and complaining about it, until Jessie eventually stops you halfway down the block.
“Y/N/N, I know you don’t want to but you really need to wear your sweater,” the Canadian says.
“No thank you.”
That earns you a hard stare from the older girl, “I wasn’t really asking you.”
“No.”
“Yes, Y/N.”
With the two of you locked in a very intense stare down, Niamh takes the opportunity to take you by surprise, forcing the jumper over your head. She manages to get it down past your shoulders, making it so you can do nothing but whine as you struggle to get your arms free and through the appropriate holes.
“Not fair,” you say with a stomp of your foot and the slightest pout, once you manage to free yourself.
“Isn’t it crazy how life is rarely fair,” Niamh asks sarcastically. “But since it isn’t fair, I guess that means that you don’t want to come to the zoo with Jessie and I?”
Wide-eyed you look over at the Canadian, who just nods at you very seriously before speaking, “Niamh and I would just have to go by ourselves and it won’t be as much fun without our favorite little girl there to tell us about all the reptiles and amphibians.”
You pretend to take a moment to think about it but anyone watching from the outside, specifically Jessie and Niamh, can see the way you’re practically shaking with excitement.
“Well, I suppose that we can still go,” you say as calmly as a kid your age can, “the two of you need someone to help you see the differences in all the salamanders and newts.”
The two footballers exchange a knowing smirk over the top of your head as you allow Niamh to take you by the hand.
The trip to the zoo takes too long in your humble opinion but you do your best to not bounce up and down in your seat. Once you reach the zoo, all sense of pretense is lost and you just barely agree to see some of the other animals before you attach your face to the glass in the reptile exhibit.
You allow yourself to be dragged to the different primates (where you do your best not to make faces back at them), then to the big cats (where you happily explain that lions aren’t kings of the jungle because they live in the savannah) and finally to the giraffes (where you crack jokes about them being even taller than Millie).
Eventually though, you do make it to the reptile exhibit just in time to see one of the handlers taking a baby alligator out of its habitat.
Immediately, you rush forward with the other kids, getting as close as possible to the zookeeper.
“Hello, I’m zookeeper Jack and this here is my friend Billy, he’s visiting us from America.”
From the second the zookeeper starts talking, you’re hooked, staring in silent wonder as the animal is held on display. The only movement you make is to raise your hand in an attempt to answer almost every question.
Near the end, Jack asks if anyone would like to hold Billy and your hand is the only one that goes up.
“We’ve got a brave one. What’s your name,” he asks, while showing you where to put your hands.
“Y/N.”
“And who brought you to the zoo today?”
“Niamh and Jessie,” you say, slowly point Billy’s head towards them. “They promised to let me show them the newts and salamanders.”
“Niamh and Jessie are your sisters?”
“Yea.”
You’ve completely returned your attention to Billy the gator, so you’re not even aware of the shock that your words have given the two athletes.
“One more question for you, Y/N, and then we’ll let you and your sisters take a photo with our friends here,” Jack says. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A herpetologist,” you say. Then after a moment, “Or maybe a viking, I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, if you’re as gentle with all animals as you were with Billy, I think you have a pretty good chance at it,” he says, choosing to ignore the bit about becoming a viking, not wanting to break your little kid heart.
Jack the zookeeper then quickly ushers both of the footballers to the front to take a photo. He tries to make them stand next to you only for both of them to stand behind you and as far away from Billy’s teeth as they could.
When he takes the alligator back, you thank him before dragging Niamh and Jessie over to one of the vivariums you noticed on your way in. The large glass habitat is set up to resemble the ecosystem of the rivers and creeks in the pacific northwest and there, peeking out from underneath a rock, is the very animal you’ve been wanting to show them, the rough skin newt.
“Look,” you say, pointing the black and orange creature out, “That little guy is one of the most toxic animals in all of America. Just one of them contains enough toxin to kill 12 adults.”
“That’s scary, why do you know that,” Niamh asks.
“It’s not scary, it's cute,” you tell her. “And cool! There’s only one animal that can safely eat them and most of the time that snake decides it isn’t worth the hassle.”
The smile on your face only grows as you continue to gush about the tiny amphibians and its cousins. It doesn’t go away until well after you return home.
When you do get back home, now armed with a stuffed Smooth Newt and your face still sticky with the ice cream you had leaving the zoo, you excitedly tell your mothers about Billy, completely missing the look Momma sends the two younger players.
What you don’t miss is the way Morsa quickly ushers you out of the room under the guise of helping you find a spot for your new friend, affectionately dubbed Bäcken (She goes right next to Älg in your bed obviously.) And you definitely don’t miss the way Niamh tries to hide behind Jessie to avoid Momma’s wrath as you walk away.
But in the end, you decide not to pay it too much attention because you’re far too busy telling your Morsa the names of all the different reptiles and amphibians you saw at the zoo as she helps you get cleaned up before dinner.
She's not very impressed with the amount of dirt you're covered in, so she makes you change while asking you about it. And she's even less impressed when you tell her about your day at nursery but you immediately change the subject back to the zoo, so she let's it go.
When your clothes are changed and the dirt and ice cream are wiped from your skin, the two of you head out to the dining room joining the others.
Where you realize that you have to start your story telling all over again because Momma didn't hear the part about the snakes and everyone else realizes that this is all you'll be talking about for weeks.
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beneatheaven · 7 months
Text
masked sex with beomgyu
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lowercase intended, 1,841 words, haven’t proof read
smut under cut, minors do not interact
you weren't one for parties. you would have rather been in your dorm studying or under your covers sleeping. but your friends insisted on you going out to this halloween party. dress up, sexy for once, and let loose. you gave in, because the idea of dressing up for one night of the year, as something you aren't, sounded fun.
just the cliche, out of your comfy modest clothes that covered you up. into a body fitting slim dress. with every step it wanted to ride up your thighs, and it made your boobs look good. nothing something you would ever be seen wearing..thanks to your friends for finding this for you. being dressed as the typical college angel, throwing on some wings and getting your makeup and hair done cutely.
lastly you decided to wear a mask to cover the top half of your face, with the prettiest beading. maybe if no one knew who was under the mask, you would be more confident with your actions..
still really nervous when you arrived to the party. at one of the many halloween college parties at the handful of frat houses. you looked so hot though, so you needed to feel hot. you and your friends doing a round of shots before doing anything. guys started to look at you, noticing your curves, feeling less tense now, you told your friends you were going to look for someone to dance with. they cheered for your new found confidence as you walked away.
you knew only a few people at this party, and some were familiar faces. then of course.. so many of them in costume you could either not see their face too well or had no idea who they were. although everyone is here to look hot, get drunk, and have fun.
turning around to go look somewhere else, you bumped into someone. "oh i'm sorry about that." he turned around to get a look at you. he was in a mask similar to yours, except he had fake blood splattered on it and on his face. you looked down to see he had some more on his open button up and blazer. as well on his chest that was peaking through.
"no worries you're good." "did i scare you?" he was so tall and his lips were so pretty. "no no, you don't look scary, you look pretty hot." his words making your skin jump a little. "i could say the same about you, what are you supposed to be a psycho killer?" reaching your hand out to play with the buttons on his shirt were the fake blood stains were. "yea, i left my axe somewhere but i think it's long gone." he's checking you out and how pretty you looked under the party lighting. even if he can't see you because of the mask.
"but i wanted to wear a mask because i'm not really into these things. if you saw what i looked like i think you would understand." he didn't mind your hands on his chest. "i don't know, you look pretty hot right now. who's to say you aren't like this all the time " you don't understand how you're talking like this so easily. "but i like the mask, makes you more mysterious." he laughs lightly, smirking at you. god he's so fucking hot already.
"guess you like me more than just for my scary psycho killer costume." he tries to pull you in closer to him. "maybe i do, come chase me and find out." stepping back from him. "serious, want me to chase you?" nodding at him. "okay, let's do it, better run fast."
starting to push through the crowd of people, the sound of your heels clicking against the hard floors, it was easy to follow you. at some point he saw you enter into a more secluded area of the frat house. when you entered it looked like a room they used for storage space. lots of closets and boxes everywhere. deciding to hide inside a closet, you could hear the loud music along with the sound of your heart racing. this was so fun for you.
hearing the door open following his voice. "hmm i could almost feel how scared you are." you could hear his voice a lot more clear. it was deep and sultry. he was looking around the room still until he stood in front of the closet you were hiding in. "does this turn you on? being chased by a masked stranger?" honestly yes it does, he's making you rub your thighs. trying to help that aching feeling he's giving you. "now, come out for me." he says as he opened the closet doors open. doing a playful dramatic scream for him. "so cute, how was that?" his hands finding your waist, pulling you out the closet to pin you against the wall.
"perfect, so turned on now." resting your hands on his chest leaning your lips closer to his. he sensing the tension, leaning into you and sharing a deep kiss with you. one of your hands finding its way to the back of his neck, kissing him harder, making the kiss messy. your roughness was making him moan into your mouth. his deep moans making you wetter by the minute. you don't want to hear the end of it.
he broke the kiss, making you whine, missing the feeling of his lips against yours. "so hot and sexy, wore this short dress to get fucked didn't you." heavy breathing trying to catch you breathing nodding at him. your hands going up this face, touching his mask. "god your body is so hot." his hands exploring your body, your focus still being o his face, you could see the hunger in his eyes. "off." chuckling lightly at how whiny you sound. "no not yet pretty. let me see more of you first." trusting his words, you let him continue to explore you.
his left hand holding onto your face while his right hand finds its way between your thighs. "here let me put my thumb in your mouth." parting your lips for him letting him slip his thumb inside. moaning softly for him. "such a good listener, sweet girl." his fingers pushing your panties to the side, gliding his fingers up and down your core teasing you. inserting a finger inside, making you yelp. his left going down to your waist to keep you steady.
"fuck, you're so sexy like this, yea you like this don't you? a stranger fucking his fingers into you?" "god yes yes, please." digging your fingers into his shoulders. he just knew how to talk to you.. "yea you wouldn't want me if you knew what i looked like." "n-not true, ohh please don't stop." inserting a second finger, he kept his fast movements inside you, his lips finding your neck and collarbones, covering your skin in wet sloppy kisses and a hickey here or there.
he was so alluring, looking up at you as he kissed your skin. getting lost in his stare, such pretty eyes he had. "let me see you." taking your chance, lifting the mask off his face..
you couldn't believe it, one of the hottest frat guy in your class, choi beomgyu, was fingering you and found you hot. "like what you see?" "mhmm.." pulling him up into a kiss. hands holding onto his face so he wouldn't pull away too soon but be broke the kiss to look right at you and say "now it's your turn pretty."
lifting up the mask with one hand, as his fingers stopped inside you. a small quiet whine left your lips as he saw your entire face. "of course, girls like you are so freaky." his fingers thrusting inside you again. so glad he found you hot after knowing who you really are. "b-beomgyu please-" "yea say my name like that, cream on my fingers baby."
after a couple more seconds, he took his fingers out of you. licking his fingers clean of your juices. "alright come on, lift that dress up a little more for me." as if your dress hasn't completely ridden up your thighs by now. hearing the sound of his belt and pants ruffling as he pulls them down. "here lift your leg up, yea yea around my waist." you were so wet, inserting his cock in you was a breeze.
holding onto his shoulders, as he held onto your waist to help his fast thrust. "god this costume was made to get fucked in, wasn't it?" his words making you moan, turning you on so much. there's just no way he had you like this right now. "yes, for you, j-just for you." earning a rough groan from him, cutest quiet girl in his class, was losing it all for him.
he looked so hot, his long hair faming his face perfectly. the dark lighting, with the help of the moon peaking through the blinds, you found beauty in everything about him. his lips finding yours again, neither of you would get tired of each others taste.
his thrust getting harder now, making you yelp breaking the kiss and dig your nails into his shoulders. "you like it rough don't you?" "god yes." pulling out of you until it was just the tip, just to thrust his entire length roughly. you could feel how thick he was inside you, every vein and bump, he was so perfect. "take my big cock, take it slut."
he knew how to get you going. continuously thrusting, while kissing your neck, hickeys in places you're going to have trouble covering up later. but you didn't care, you have him right now. "you close?" nodding with a whine escaping your lips. bitting down your lower lip as his thumb comes down finding your clit to rub it.
you came with a loud moan of his name, "yea scream for me, no one can hear you." getting louder and he helped ride out your high. "ohhh i'm cumming baby." feeling his seed inside you. it all just felt so good. when he pulled out of you, both of you moaned, at the feeling and sight of his cum dripping out of you, down your legs.
he made you so weak you lost your balance. "hey hey i got you." his hold on you made you feel so warm. after all that he still cared. thanking him for his sweet action. "yea, did you like that? because.. i did." still catching his breathe while he looks at you, the way your eyes shine at his words. "i did, i really did beomgyu. i wouldn't have expected this to happen if i'm being honest." getting shy under his gaze.
"me either, but i just didn't know how to approach you before. but please, after this let me take you out on a proper date." flashing a smile at you, he was so pretty. "i would love that beomgyu."
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ctinalk · 4 months
Text
Is Crowley already the new Supreme Archangel?
A few oversights made millennia ago, and suddenly we have a demon archangel on our hands.
Caution: I came up with and wrote this in the last few hours so potentially crackpot theory ahead. Apologies if this has been proposed before, it’s not one I’ve seen. And I’ve seen A LOT.
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So supposedly the miracle Aziraphale and Crowley performed together was something only the mightiest of archangels could have done. Everyone assumes it was Crowley because they think he was a high ranking Angel formerly. Or that it was the two of them together. Or that Jimbriel amplified it. But what if…
“There is always a supreme archangel”
Michael says this in S2E1 when talking with Uriel about who is in charge now that Gabriel was missing. Gabriel was removed from office in the trial we hear, he’s no longer Supreme Archangel. If so, Michael’s statement would imply that as soon as Gabriel’s removal happened, a new archangel already existed. Now obviously the Metatron is making a show of choosing Aziraphale as the new Supreme Archangel. But is that within his power to do so? Or is he suggesting working with Crowley for a different reason, possibly unknown even to him?
“I am the only first-order archangel in the room, or you know, the universe”
During the “2nd Armageddon-that-wasn’t” discussion, Gabriel says these words. As he says them, it cuts (ominously isn’t the right word here, pointedly maybe?) to Crowley leaning against the desk, and lingers there just a bit too long.
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“How do you know it wasn’t me?”
Another clue to the powerful angel Crowley was. It was clearly said in a teasing manner throw Shax off. But much like the barrel of red herring in the intro, is it a red herring to something else?
“Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?”
The only other time we see someone calling lightning or using it is, you guessed it: Gabriel in S1 on the airbase to port in and out. I’ve read the theory that Angel!Crowley was the lord of lightning, which I’m not opposed to, but to me this is another link.
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“Never change their passwords”
We have one HUGE instance of Heaven being sloppy in their record keeping (passwords), and lax in their security protocol (Crowley bopping about with Muriel). Whereas Hell is meticulous in their record keeping, as shown by the bills, admissions process, and S1 contract.
So what if: when Gabriel was stripped of the title, a new Supreme Archangel was automatically appointed. Except instead of someone else, because heaven neglected to double-check their logs after The Fall, Crowley was still on the books as next in line? This would absolutely play into “God playing games with the universe” and “just think what would have happened if we’d been at all competent” themes running through both seasons. It would also follow the theory that people noticed Aziraphale and Crowley were on the “wrong” side for much of the season. It would also explain a few continuity errors along the way (how did Crowley know Muriel’s rank? He knows it through the knowledge automatically given to the Supreme Archangel).
“Funny ol’ world, isn’t it?”
Caveats and potential weaknesses:
I have no idea how this fits into the fact that S3 will be the actual continuation the Neil and Terry planned, as to my knowledge S2 was essentially a “Neil’s chaotic angsty ineffable husbands fanfic”. But clearly S2 has to play well into the plan for S3. I also kind of hate my theory because Crowley specifically declined to be an angel again, and his hand has been forced too often already.
Now I am a staunch advocate of the body-swap theory, and I’m not sure how this would play into that. Does Metatron know? Does he think he has the power to appoint? Does he think the title went to Aziraphale because of the miracle? Does he try to get Crowley to come back with Aziraphale to exploit his power? Does he know about the body swap in S1 and if so, was he trying to trigger another one to get the right “soul” to heaven?
There are a few other things I haven’t figured out how to incorporate into this post yet. I’ll try to put them into coherent thoughts in the next few days, but thought I’d throw this to the wolves universe for the time being.
Thought 1: “How have your lot managed to stay in charge all this time?” “I’m not so sure we have.”
Thought 2: I need to do (another) rewatch before I nail this one down (such a sacrifice I tell you), but does Crowley have a visceral reaction like he does in S1 to being called “good” in the current, post Gabriel-removal timeset? Obv in Edinburgh/Job, but that’s in the past. He denies it, sure (with Jim), but he straight up flashes a smile and thanks Mrs. Sandwich when she says “You’re a good lad” (after the denial).
2.1: No one calls him “good” in present day except these two instances. Vast difference in the visceral reactions of season 1 and flashbacks.
Thought 3: Crowley is the only one who can trigger Jimbriel’s recall memory.
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loveswrites · 1 year
Note
Something with the Volturi, literally can be anything.
Poly Volturi x Reader
Time
Time it took me: 2 hours and 2 minutes
Word count: 1839 words
To anon~ Hello lovely! I hope you liked it, I did! I was excited seeing your request for something with the volturi. I just couldn't wait to write it. Let me know if you want more like this! <3
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The arms around you wrapped onto you tightly. The music in your headphones was blasting a little too loud but you didn’t mind. You're basically in heaven right now. You felt the energy around you change and the tempo of Caius leg bouncing change. This let you know immediately that something was wrong. Taking off your headphones while opening your eyes that were previously closed, you were faced with Caius red eyes staring straight ahead with a deadly glare. Different from the one that was always on his face. You had taken your headphones off just in time to hear the end of the growls that were coming from your other mates.
You were currently sitting on Caius’s lap who was sitting in his throne. You were the only one who was allowed up here like this of course. It’s not like you hadn’t fought for this spot. All of your mates and all of the kings were considered for your safety as “We have a lot of enemies.” But you assured them that you would always be safe with them all in the room. So you were then granted permission to sit with the kings in the throne room during trails. Which didn’t matter cause you knew you were going to be in there anyways. You 're the future queen for heaven's sake.  
“You keep your mouth shut about things that have nothing to do with you.” Caius growled out. Sending waves of vibrations through his body making you shiver. You always liked the way he would growl when he was mad. It made you feel some type of way if you know what I mean. 
“I-Her music is very distracting! I can’t concentrate on the words coming out of my mouth!” The scared vampire kneeling stuttered out making you tear your eyes away from caius. You could stare at him all day if you could.  
The vampire looked terrified. He was shaking, his clothes were wet. You wondered if Felix and Demetri had to chase him through a lake or something as they were also wet. The two were holding him down to kneel in front of the kings as he tried to run away once already. You knew he was guilty of his crimes. You could smell it. And so could everyone else. 
“You wouldn’t have to think about anything if you weren't lying.” You stated, making all eyes turn to you. The kings had always preferred you to be silent so no unnecessary attention was drawn to you. You never listened. I don’t think they ever expected you to either. You’d always randomly laugh during trails. Or sing random words from songs that were stuck in your head. Or throw out random compliments to your mates or the other kings.
“I-I’m not lying I’m telling the truth!” He said, stuttering.
 Swinging your feet you stared at the vampire tilting your head you simply said. “Was that also a lie? You know after all these years of living or dying, Whatever you call it. I’d think you would’ve mastered the art of lying.”
Your comment brung a evil smile to Caius' face. His eyes were full of adoration 24/7 whenever he looked at you. 
“The level of the future queen's music should be of no concern to you.” Aro said, turning his head back to the Vampire. They always took pride in calling you their queen. Seeing that you were still human kinda shocked you but I guess there's an exception for mates.
“Mia cara, put your contraption back on and relax please.” Marcus said softly. You knowing exactly what was about to happen. You put your headphones back on. Turning the volume back up you closed your eyes and relaxed in Caius' grip. You felt Caius drawing patterns on your leg and his bouncing went back to normal. Kinda putting you in a rocking motion. You were very relaxed. You felt safer than ever. Somehow you fell asleep because when you woke up next you weren't in the throne room. Confusion ran across your face until realization came across you and you remembered that this was Jane’s room.
“Finally you're awake. You slept for hours.” Jane said, making you roll over to face her. Her face sparkled a little as some sun was coming through her balcony. You always loved watching her sparkle. You always teased her about being the bright star on earth. She’d always tell you to stop but you swear if she could she’d blush and be as red as a tomato all the time.
“You missed me?” You smiled up at her.
“Of course not you were right here this whole time. How could I possibly miss you?” Jane said with a straight face but couldn’t help herself with stroking the side of your waist. All of your mates had a favorite spot on your body they just looked to touch. It’s like you were just a stress ball for them. Made for them to grip, rub, bite etc. You loved it.
“But you stayed and watched me sleep? That sounds like fan behavior to me.” You stated softly dragging your fingers against her cheek. She leaned into your hand telling you she loved it. 
Jane was the hardest out of all your mates when it came to physical touch. You thought Caius would be the hardest to get to seeing as his awful hate to humans. But you're convinced that Jane’s is 10x worse. Rightfully so as her past with Humans wasn’t so good.
“I couldn’t just leave you alone.” She softly said with her eyes closed. She relaxed in your touch bringing a bigger smile to your face.
“Why not? Scared someone would come in here and snatch me away?” You giggled. Making her snap her eyes open bringing you to a halt with everything you were doing. Including breathing. 
“If someone dared to lay a hand on you I’d kill them all. Everyone, no hesitation.” Jane said sternly. Her piercing red eyes would scare any normal person, but with her words and lovely eyes you knew damn well you weren’t normal. Because with all of those things combined you felt Loved.  
“I know you would but I’m okay so you can relax, pretty girl.” 
“I am relaxed.” She said, You shook your head and brought her in for a kiss. Just a soft reassuring kiss. 
Jane responded to the kiss by pulling you closer to her by your hair deepening the kiss. It was a little aggressive but you knew that she was being gentle. She and Caius had a hard time being gentle but you loved them nonetheless. A few minutes into a kiss that was supposed to last only for a few seconds a knock was heard on the door.
You pulled away getting off her lap which was where she pulled you to a minute after the kiss got deepened. Making Jane huff in protest. 
“Brother, go away!” She only but slightly raised her voice knowing he could hear her.
“Sister it is now my turn, You said when she awakened I could spend time with her. She’s awake, I hear her.” Alec’s voice mumbled through the door.
Kissing Jane on her nose you smiled at her getting up from the bed.
 “I’ll be back later.” 
“But-”
 “You're the one who told him he could spend time with me after I had awakened, I didn’t agree to that. I’m only keeping your word, My pretty girl.” You smiled seeing her face which you knew she was flustered but also annoyed. The moment you opened the door you were snatched up by multiple hands making you squeal out in surprise. Wind rushed through your hair and hit your face. The world was blurry around you. It made you sick. You closed your eyes tightly in attempts to help with the splitting headache that you knew was on the express train to your head.
Finally you were put down on your two feet so suddenly making you stumble and hold your head. You already knew what was happening. You were being ambushed by Alec, Felix and Demitri. Your other mates. They liked to just grab you and run away no matter how many times you told them that their speed made you feel sick. They would always get cocky with themselves after you said it, so you stopped.
“What the hell again?!” You yelled out the moment you could hold yourself up without swaying side to side. All you got in response was chuckles and laughs from your lovers.
“I swear you guys may be older than the sun but you fucking act like you where born yesterday! How many times do I have to tell you that that shit makes me feel sick! My human shit can’t handle that! One of these days I’m gonna throw up on all of you and I’m not going to feel bad!” You ranted on holding your head as you felt the headache you were talking about earlier come on. 
“I’m sorry La mia bella ragazza.” Demitri said softly, coming up to you to wrap you around in his arms. He kissed your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. You mumbled a few cuss words into his chest making him laugh softly.
“I know I know, we just wanted to try and spend some time with you before Caius came back from feeding.” Demitri said.
“We didn’t think you would sleep the whole day away in Jane’s room. It’s almost like you like her more than us or something.” Felix said. Even with your face hidden you knew that that 6 '7 teddy bear was pouting about you sleeping too long with someone else that wasn’t him. 
“Cauis said he wanted to capture you in your true beauty when he was done feeding. So with that information we knew you’d be gone for the rest of the day tucked away with the king.” Alec said coming up to you behind your back. Your face was still in Demetris' chest as Alec wrapped his arms around you from behind so he could kiss your neck softly. You let out a soft moan in response. 
Felix seeing this he came up to the on space that was available. With both sides of your neck now being kissed you had no choice but to keep your eyes closed and let out small whimpers. You were surrounded by three pieces of your heart. You felt nothing but happiness and joy right now. You can’t even remember what your life was like without them. Your lovers. You always felt safe. You never had to question if you were loved. They would always show it without you even asking. What more could you ask for?
“Mia cara! Where are you? I had that horrible excuse of a receptionist gather more paint for us now, come!” You heard Caius yell out.
Except more time.
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bbunivxrse · 5 months
Note
AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao
❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO
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pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY
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so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.
as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.
if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.
obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 
waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 
incoming call from gojo.
its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 
“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned
“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 
“no.” 
“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 
“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 
“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 
“what?? n-“ 
“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'
getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?
checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 
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training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’
you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.
in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.
finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 
you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 
within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 
“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.
“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 
“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 
“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 
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“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 
“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 
“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.
after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 
“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.
as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 
“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 
“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.
“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 
“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 
“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.
as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 
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i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext
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depravitycentral · 10 months
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im sorry if this is a lame ask, but i just had the idea and thought i would share it to see if it would strike any inspo! of course on this blog you’ve talked about all the things our beloved troupe members are into, but have you ever considered what their absolute turn offs are? like things that pull them out of the mood almost immediately? or kinks that would seem to fit certain members, but end up not being their thing for one reason or another
Ooh yes anon this strikes inspo !!
This is a good point - it's all fine and dandy to imagine sex with your yandere as being so bad but so good, as if they know every secret, dirty kink and fantasy you have. (That's because they do know, whether through extensive stalking, pouring through your search histories, or raw, natural sexual chemistry with you. They all think they've got that last one, but normally any positive sexual encounters between the two of you will be a consequence of the former two rather than the latter.)
But of course, everyone has turn offs, and while your yandere would be willing to do pretty much anything to please you, even the most obsessed, unhinged yanderes have a few hard, fast exceptions.
I'm assuming you meant just hxh yanderes for this, so let's proceed moving forward with that in mind! If you meant for another fandom, please let me know and I'd be happy to discuss those yanderes too <3
Let's discuss !!
(Tw for petnames, watersports, recording, anal, pegging, crying, hitting, and other smutty things)
Chrollo Lucilfer is pretty hard to frazzle in bed, and is one of those who have done extensive, eager research into both your own personal sexual preferences, and made educated guesses on kinks that seem to correlate with ones he already knows you possess. That said, Chrollo himself isn't especially risky in bed - he'll indulge you, sure, but he doesn't have a strong desire to try anything especially crazy unless you're a big fan. And while he'll let you have your fun (particularly in the beginning of your sexual relationship, just because promising you that he'll choke you or dominate you or whatever else you may like just to get you into bed with him and somewhat willing, just because he needs to pleasure you and get you warming up to him) , most of the time sex with him is quite vanilla. He's open to listening to whatever you want, with one very, very large exception: there is no amount of pleading or bargaining that will let you peg him. He doesn't inherently believe that men should always be dominant over women, but he does believe that he should always be dominant over you. And if you were to peg him, this power structure would collapse, allowing you too much control over both his pleasure and him. He doesn't mind being in a more physically submissive position (he'll never deny you when you straddle him and tell him that you're in charge for the evening, the only response you get being a twinkle in his eye, a soft smirk and a hummed we will see, my love), but the idea of you fucking him just rubs him the wrong way. He's more vulnerable with you than he is anyone else, but Chrollo has his limits. (Besides, the idea of absolutely falling apart for you is both alluring and terrifying, because the moment you discover his prostate, he'll be a gasping mess, his cheeks tinged a light pink and his grip on the sheets below him very, very tight. It would be embarrassing, and he can't allow you to see him in such a weak position - it would derail all the hard work he's done to convince you that you need him.)
Feitan Portor really detests being called Daddy. He thinks it's weird, and even if you - sweet, perfect, irritatingly attractive you - were to say it, he still wouldn't like it. There's just something about it that rubs him the wrong way - it feels too paternal, and while he doesn't remember having a family in any biological capacity, it still just makes his skin crawl. He won't get soft immediately upon hearing you say it (he's always just slightly hard when you're in his vicinity, so rarely ever is he truly flaccid around you), but he'll need to pull out and take a breather, mentally trying to erase the sound of the petname rolling off your tongue. He can deal with other petnames - he'd be okay with sir, if only because he's always kind of had a thing for roleplaying, or at least having some sort of overarching power dynamic present during sex, and being called sir would place him in a position of absolute authority, meaning he could do whatever he wants to you and you'd just obediently obey. (You already kind of do, too scared to say no to him, but it doesn't feel as authentic - he feels less comfortable, more vulnerable and exposed and raw, and he doesn't like that.) You could even call him master if you really wanted to - similarly, it feeds his desire for playing a powerful, dominant role, but he doesn't have any sort of particularly liking towards maid costumes or anything of the sort, so it wouldn't do too much for him. He's good with nearly anything else you could throw at him, but never Daddy. Frankly, he really just prefers his own, actual name - it just sounds so damn good when you gasp it, the sound going straight to both his cock and heart.
Phinks Magcub's brows always get pinched and his lips quirk down when he thinks about the idea of you bleeding during sex. It makes his hands itch, this protectiveness welling up inside him that makes him antsy and nervous and jittery, the energy all pent up and needing to be released because god, he doesn't like seeing you hurt. Even if it makes you feel good, your moans increasing because of the pain twinged pleasure, he's unwilling to indulge you - he couldn't bring himself to purposefully make you bleed, and while he does occasionally (often) leave you bruised and incredibly sore after having his way with you, that's a whole different thing from seeing that crimson color against your pretty skin. It just makes him uncomfortable - if you asked nicely enough he'd consider maybe lightly slapping you or getting rough with you (though he's already pretty rough when he gets lost in the moment - finger shaped bruises litter your body and hickeys dance along your collarbone and neck), but he'll draw the line at drawing blood. (Similarly, he doesn't really want to bleed himself either, but he'd be more willing to be in the position of pain than putting you into that position of pain. Besides, it might help him last longer, the pleasure warded off by negative stimulation - and god knows Phinks needs all the help he can get in delaying his orgasms.)
Uvogin is pretty adventurous in bed, all things considered, but even he has a few hard turn offs, one of which being degrading you. He doesn't mind calling you needy or possessive terms of endearment, but anything with even a slight negative connotation is always preceded by a 'my', so that when he's calling you a slut it always becomes my slut. Even then, he doesn't like doing this - his natural default when he's naked with you is to be praising you, because those are honestly the thoughts running through his mind when he's got his hands on you and he's feeling your soft skin against his. He genuinely only has good, lustful, reverent things to say about your body and the fact that he's getting to touch, kiss, squeeze, and fuck you, and he's not shy about telling the truth. And so, if you were to request for him to degrade you a bit in bed or be a little meaner, he'll oblige, but it'll feel just slightly forced, his words not holding their usual deep, growling timber that always sends shivers down your spine. He ends up compromising by mixing praise and degradation, but absolutely destroying you with his thrusts and well placed circles on your clit, channeling all the harsh, humiliating energy of verbal degradation instead into how he assaults your body with an overwhelming amount of pleasure. He just doesn't like the idea of lying to you, even if it turns you on in this context, because it just feels wrong to tell you that you're only a hole for me to fuck, and holes don't talk. You're not - you're so much more than that, and he doesn't want you to think otherwise. Hell no, not with all the work he's put into making you get comfortable with him and want him. One roll around on the liviing room floor (he'd gotten impatient and didn't feel like making the thirty step journey to the bedroom) isn't worth reversing months worth of warming you up to him. Not even if you leave his back scratched up or end up so stuffed full of his cum that you're literally leaking.
Nobunaga Hazama is, frankly, just thankful and elated that you're touching him. He's delusional, compeltely out of touch with reality, and fucking weird, but he's also a major sap and literally gets heart eyes everytime he sees you. And so, in the bedroom he wants everything to be as close and sensual as possible, and for every bit of pleasure and love shared between the two of you to be expressed in full. This, of course, includes any and all noises he draws out of you - that is, Nobunaga has to have you gasping and keening and moaning. He's loud himself, and he expects sex to be full of wanton cries and a cacophany of sound; one that you are expected to eagerly contribute to. And if you don't deliver? Well, Nobunaga will just try harder, licking at your faster or thrusting harder or pinching tighter - anything and everything to get you to make a damn sound, to give stop him from having to confront the reality that you aren't enjoying this nearly as much as he is. He gets turned off when you're quiet, which is a real bummer if you aren't naturally loud - you have to be, because he won't quite until you are, even if that takes hours and hours and hours.
Alternatively, Franklin Bordeau can tell when you're faking it, and he doesn't like that. At all. He doesn't want your forced moans or fabricated shaking or anything that isn't real - he wants you, your genuine reactions to his touch, and your genuine personality in bed. He doesn't want you to sound like some pornstar - with your moans constant and high and shrill and more pained than pleasured - for two main reasons, the first of which being that it's just annoying. He's never understood the allure of a woman screaming during sex, and even in the context of actual, real pleasure, it still makes him uncomfortable. It's too close to the sounds he hears when he's working a heist - he doesn't want you to sound like them, because he has no intentions of hurting you and just the mere thought of you bloodied is enough to get him soft immediately and clutching onto you like you'll disappear any moment. The second reason why he doesn't want you to be forcing anything is because although he's decently confident in his sexual abilities, he knows he isn't making you feel that good. He's sure him fingering you isn't capable of getting you gasping and whining his name constantly - sure, it feels good, and you'll probably moan and sigh, but still. When he's fucking you, he's hopeful that you'll cry out his name, but he knows you shouldn't be screaming and rythmically, shrilly moaning. He values honesty, and hearing your real, raw reactions to his touch and his presence feels a thousand times more pleasurable than anything you could ever forcibly manufacture - especially your orgasms. He can always tell when you're faking, so don't try it. Don't.
Honestly, it's pretty difficult to get Shalnark turned off. He's kinky, adventurous, and misinterprets a lot of your responses during sex - he likes to think you're just as wild as he is, and even when you clearly don't like something, he still thinks seeing you struggle is just as arousing. (Besides, most of the time he will get you to orgasm - and seeing the internal dilemma of hating what he's doing alongside the pleasure you can't hold back is absolutely delicious.) That said, there are very specific situations that Shalnark doesn't find any attraction in - specifically, he absolutely is not willing to be cucked. Having another person in the room while he fucks you hard enough to make you cry isn't a problem at all - on the contrary, he's very, very interested in that idea, because having another man watch him claim you makes both his possessiveness and nostrils flare, his palms getting sweaty and his pants feeling tight. Cucking, on the other hand, implies that there's someone else touching you - another person sullying you, getting their disgusting hands on your perfect skin that's all his his his, and that's just simply unacceptable. He didn't go through all that trouble of kidnapping you and keeping you in a secure location just to have you touched, fucked, loved by another man. It doesn't matter if it's a stranger or someone Shalnark trusts with his life - you will not be getting intimate with another soul for the rest of your life, simply because he firmly sees you as his property, and him yours. So don't even bother bringing the idea up - he'll fuck you in front of the stranger, no problem, but they're prohibited to strictly watching. (Or, maybe, they'd be good at helping get those camera angles that are really tough to capture - right up in your face, or right zoomed into where his length - flushed red and swollen - is sinking into you over and over, the home video the perfect thing to watch tonight as he cuddles you to sleep.)
Alternatively, Machi Komacine can't stomach the thought of doing anything public. It's not that she fears getting caught, but rather that it makes her uncomfortable that anyone could see the two of you. Someone could just pass by and happen to get an eyeful of you - your pretty skin and curves, your lovely body that her eyes always seem to get stuck on, watching, wanting, yearning. She's not spontaneous in any way when it comes to sex, and she just doesn't see the allure of the risk or danger involved. She's too possessive; it takes her so long to even allow herself to see you naked, and to have a stranger do that and even see your face while she's pleasuring you, while you're coming? The thought makes her nen flare up, the urge to wrap you in her arms and keep the world from even catching a glimpse of you only growing stronger. Even aside from her possessiveness, the idea of doing something where others could see you makes her nervous, too, because Machi isn't entirely confident in her abilities to actually please you in the bedroom. Sure, she understands female anatomy and has a good sense of what you like from all that stalking, but actually doing it? That's a different thing entirely - and the pressure of pleasing you coupled with the pressure of other people potentially watching her struggle makes her feel uncomfortable, a foreign, heavy sense of self doubt settling heavily in her gut. It's just not for her - sex belongs in the bedroom, or perhaps the couch or kitchen table. Not outside of your 'shared' apartment, and certainly not where someone else could get an eyeful of what's hers.
Pakunoda will still jump on the opportunity to pleasure you and be pleasured, but in general she'll be hesitant if the both of you are still fully clothed. She doesn't see the appeal of clothed sex - she wants you completely bared to her, utterly raw, your body on display for her to worship and touch and mark. She thinks keeping the clothing on is not only impractical, but diminishes the intimacy between the two of you. You'll get all sorts of sticky, hard to clean things staining the clothes, and because she can be a little snobby about materialistic delights like luxury clothing, she's not exactly keen on getting your slick all over her nice clothes. (Although, she wouldn't be entirely opposed to having your slick all over her skin, like you're leaving a mark of possession on her. Just not the clothes.) Clothes stop her from being able to fully explore your body, and, as much as she'd never admit it, when you have your clothing on it makes it much harder to use her nen on you. That is, while it makes her feel a little dirty and slimy, she will be using her ability to dig into your memories for any information on your kinks and fantasies, just because she wants to make sex as perfect and pleasurable for you as she possibly can. So shed the layers with her - it makes things so much better. Plus, the sight of you bare and squirming underneath her, looking all pretty and submissive and cute is certainly a drool worthy sight.
All things considered, Shizuku Murasaki is actually kind of picky about sex. She likes things to be her way or the highway, and as her darling you'll be forced to go along with all of her preferences and wants. And while she loves all things oral, there are a few things she's absolutely unwilling to do. Namely, while she worships you and cherishes you as much as a mass-murderer can, she will not indulge you in anything involving your asshole. It's a cleanliness thing for her; she knows you're clean (she'd just bathed with you this morning and personally hand washed you, paying very, very careful attention to your cunt), but she has a mental block against having her mouth anywhere near that part of you. She's always felt this way with every partner she's had - she just doesn't understand the allure of anal, whether that be fingering, oral, or penetration. She'd much, much rather pay attention to other areas of your body - your pussy, your thighs, your breasts, your mouth. She'll always shy away when she's got her face between your legs, but unfortunately for you, this courtesy does not extend to you too. She doesn't expect you to do anything with her ass, but she certainly won't stop you if you're getting too close, or if you get the desire. She'll just blink at you and tell you to be careful, then pull your head in by your hair and get you closer and closer and closer, enjoying the experience despite herself. Shizuku is a little hypocritical in a lot of aspects in sex, but this is one particular area where she's absolutely unfair.
Hisoka Marrow is a freak in every sense of the word. Genuinely, there is very, very little you could do that would cause him to fall out of the mood, or to rid him of the insistant, raging boner nearly everything you do gives him. He'll try anything once, and he firmly believes in keeping your sex life interesting and varied. That said, he certainly has preferences, and one thing that sits quite low on his list of preferred bedroom activities is to be worshipped. It's not that he doesn't want your attention and praise (he does, urgently), but rather that there's something about the position of being the one drowned in compliments and confessions of love that makes him a little uncomfortable. Perhaps it's because he's not used to being in such a submissive, vulnerable position, or maybe it's because he doesn't feel like he's got enough control of the situation. It doesn't really matter, because Hisoka will always send teasing remarks your way when you get the courage to be the dominant one, and that will almost always derail you enough to get you steering away from any territory that gets dangerously close to becoming too vulnerable and real for him. He loves you in his own twisted, strange way, but he's not ready to open himself up fully to you, to let you take full charge and just take care of him. He may never be ready, really, so any dreams you have of fully dominating him and reducing him to a trembling, fucked out mess will have to remain just that - dreams.
In general, Illumi Zoldyck will try most things you suggest. It's not that he's especially adventurous in the bedroom, but rather that you're the first person he's ever had any sexual contact with, and everything with you feels good, so he wants to try it all. He has very few boundries when it comes to you, and so consequently, there aren't too many things that turn him off. However, he does have two surefire things that he'll immediately and vehemently outright refuse. Firstly, he will absolutely not wear any protection. He turns his nose at the thought of condoms, and will only laugh in your face if you suggest using them for obvious reasons. He will be entering you in the most natural way possible, and he will be finishing as deeply inside of you as he can manage. Secondly, he absolutely will not allow another person to be involved in your sex life. There will be no third person in your bed, no other person for you to be pleasuring and be pleasured by. There is only you and Illumi - it's your sex life, and it makes his possessiveness flare up to dangerous proportions to imagine another person seeing you in such a vulnerable, intimate position. So really, don't even bother bringing up the idea - he won't even consider it, already shooting it down before you're finished getting the sentence out. (And after he finishes lecturing you about how another man or woman has no place in your bed, he'll promptly fuck you right then and there - no matter where you are - just to prove his point. He's all you need, after all.)
Sex with Kurapika Kurta is soft and sensual. It can be a little rougher if he's had a particularly bad day, or if he's recently had a run in with the Troupe, but for the most part he makes love rather than fucks. And because of this, he really, really doesn't like seeing you cry during sex. It makes him uncomfortable, his instincts begging him to comfort you and eliminate whatever caused your tears. He associates crying with the early days of when he'd kidnapped you, back when you were still terrified of him and much too scared to even stand to look at him, much less allow him to touch you. And particularly in the context of sex, he does not want to be reminded of all the horrible things he's done to you - things are good now, happy, and you've finally come around to the idea that he loves you, that you'll spend the rest of your life with him. And so, the moment there are tears beading at your eyes, he's immediately going soft, his palms cupping your cheeks as he stares wildly at you, asking in a rushed, still breathless voice if you're alright, if you're hurt, if you're upset and who he needs to kill to right this wrong. He overreacts, and it always, always turns into either self hatred aimed at himself for ruining your happiness, or a bloodthirsty desire to kill whoever is upsetting you. The only exception to his hatred of you crying is when it's done because you're too overstimulated, the pleasure too much for you to even process. When you're so fucked out from the pleasure he gave you, then the tears are acceptable. He still doesn't like them all that much, but it's at least a sign that he's treating you well, that he's able to make you feel good and pleasured, and it makes pride swell in his chest. So in general, try not to cry in front of him - he goes flaccid in mere seconds, his protective nature ramping up and any semblance of sexiness gone immediately.
When Leorio Paradinight has you in bed, he's almost in a state of utter awe, almost unable to really process what's going on. He's just so incredibly aroused by you, even if you're just laying beside him with your clothes fully on, and because of this he's game to try pretty much anything you want in bed. He's genuinely just so fucking excited to be with you that he'll do basically anything you want, no matter how degrading or gross or off the wall. That said, however, he doesn't really understand the appeal of pet play. He doesn't harbor any fantasies of you donning a set of bunny ears or a tail or anything of the sort, simply because he doesn't really like fantasies that change you, even if it's something as trivial as your ears. He thinks of you as perfection, and that includes every proportion of your body, every freckle, mole, hair and blemish you could have, and he doesn't want to pretend that you aren't exactly who - and what - you are. Besides, he just doesn't see the appeal; he wants you to talk and moan for him when he's touching you, not have you purr or whine or any other animal noise. He thinks it's a little weird, if he's being honest, and while he'll begrudgingly agree if you beg him to try it out (he'll do anything to see you smile, after all), his orgasm won't come as pathetically easily as normal. This extends to pet play where he's the one dressing up as a pet, too - he's more likely to enjoy it this way, but there's something humiliating about the butt plug tail and the fox ears, and it's humiliating in all the wrong ways. He's just not too big of a fan - now if you wanted to get some sort of ownership roleplay going that didn't involve pets or animals, he'd be all over that - the moment you refer to yourself as mommy or his mistress, he's practically creaming his pants, getting on his knees for you and begging for you to touch him. (And maybe even step on him, depending on how needy he's feeling that day.)
Razor, despite sometimes losing control in bed and getting a little rougher than he means to, will never willingly hit you in bed. He doesn't like the idea of slapping you. He might gently pat your ass when you're bouncing on top of him, but it's only just enough to make you yelp, only enough to make a slight smack noise of skin against skin. Hitting you - even in the context of sexual pleasure - reminds him too much of his younger days, back when he was a criminal and was much less controlled, much more dangerous. And really, that's the last thing he wants you to see him as - he wants you to take comfort in him, to want him to hold you and touch you, and he's sure that even if you want him to get rough with you and manhandle you, to smack your cheek and tell you to behave for him, you will start associating him with pain and violence. And he just can't have that - not after all the work he's gone through to prove that despite kidnapping you, he's not the monster you think he is. (Besides, there's just something more meaningful about softer, sweeter sex - he's fucked more women than he'd care to admit, but you're the first one he's gone slow with, the first one he's really taken his time with. And while it might be stupid, that makes you different in his eyes - like he's saved something special for you, like the passionate, romantic side of him that comes out when he's got you naked and stretched out on his fingers is something only you'll ever get to see.)
Another man who tries to keep things a bit vanilla in the bedroom (not for the same reasons as Razor, but rather because he just genuinely prefers more intimate and tame sex) is Knuckle, who can't stand the thought of recording your intimate times. He does objectively think the idea is a bit hot, but he's too worried that somehow the recordings will get leaked, that somehow other people will get their hands on precious recordings of him making love to you, of him making you moan and sigh and fall apart on his tongue and fingers and cock. He views the time you both spend together in the sheets as being almost sacred, like something special that's reserved only for the two of you, and having a camera rolling would just make everything feel too impersonal. It would make him nervous, too, because he'd want to rewatch the tapes with you just so he can see your face the whole time (he tends to lose himself the closer he gets to his orgasm, and always buries his face in your neck to try and make himself last longer, so he misses seeing your facial expressions when he's finishing inside you), but he'd be worried about the way he looks, about whether he looks attractive to you, dominant to you, sexy to you. However, despite his reservations about recording himself fucking you, he will photograph you in the pretty, feminine lingerie he buys for you. He'll get a new color or cut, and have you try on the set, posing for the camera while he takes a few shots, his pants visibly straining around his swollen cock because god, you look good. He'll keep the photographs in his pants pocket and never, ever share them, always looking back at them when he's away on missions and missing you. He's a bit hypocritical, but the moment a camera gets trained on him, he's turning red and clamming up.
Morel is another one who's very flexible in the bedroom, and would be difficult to completely turn off. However, one thing that Morel just simply can't get behind is watersports. He'll try it, if you really beg him to, but he just doesn't like it. It feels unsanitary to him (and god, the mess), but even beyond that it just feels a little degrading, and not in a good way. If you really, really pushed him on it, he'd give in and do as you please, reluctantly forcing himself to release onto you, but the entire time he'd be feeling guilty, discomfort eating at him because isn't it horribly disrespectful to be literally pissing on you? He loves you, and it just sits wrong with him. He'll refuse after that first time, and while he's not particularly into it, if you really, really wanted to, he'd let you reverse the roles. He's not particularly eager to have you wet yourself or piss on him, but that's better because now at least you're the one in the position of power. Plus, you're begrudgingly a little cute when you get all embarrassed about it. But still, it's most definitely not something he desires, and while he'd entertain your fantasies once in a blue moon, it certainly won't be a regular occurrence in your sex life together.
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alicethepiper · 2 months
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here's the counterpart to my other post about the desks in the s.t.a.r.s office. there's audio this time, but no music unfortunately. you can hear the mr. raccoon bobble head thingy in the background though. i'm dumb and didn't know that was making the noise. oopsies.
so the desks in og2 are all one desk, but in remake they're two desks pressed together into a row. everyones looks basically the same. we have two additional desks in the back, though, near where rebecca's desk in og2 is. i didn't see any of rebecca's boxes specifically (there were a lot of boxes everywhere) but the green satchel health kit first aid thingy (that i assume is hers) is on the wall. idk which desk is supposed to be hers, but i think it's the one with the cds.
Jill's desk is different here too - in og she had a picture of some guy on her desk but now it's a picture of a dog. the beret/hat is still there, so i'm guessing that desk is hers. the desk next to hers has a lot of cds on it, though. it looks like piano music to me, and we know jill plays piano because of the first RE game (from what i remember) but that's about as far as my knowledge on it goes. i think rebecca can also play piano but i could be misremembering the 10 seconds i've played of RE0. idk who that desk belongs to, but it's the only additional desk that actually has any stuff on it, so i think it's rebecca's. all of the bravo team stuff is pretty much packed up (which could be because they're all dead, minus rebecca). so following that logic, the desk with the cds would be rebecca's - all of the other desks are packed up (and all of the other desks, coincidentally, belong to dead people). and i can see rebecca being put next to jill after bravo got wiped out (or even before, since i believe they're the only two girls in s.t.a.r.s and that feels like something the dudes would do. like a whole "lets put those two together so they can bond about being women or something" idk. im rambling. idk who that desk belongs to but i think it's rebecca). i can also see rebecca requesting to be put next to jill. idk too much about chief irons (except for literally all of the bad stuff he does in the game) but i wouldn't be surprised if he was a fucking creep towards jill and rebecca (he also may have only targeted rebecca, since she is a rookie and is also pretty timid, in comparison to jill who is simply not, therefore making her an easier target. i literally have nothing to base this on, i'm just speculating).
wesker's desk just has a lot of books on it. it seems like in remake everyone has their own desk rather than sharing, so i don't think enrico's stuff would've been in there (meaning, i don't think he was the one who had been holding onto a picture of rebecca). ultimately, i agree that the photo of rebecca is just an easter egg and not anything to do with canon as far as capcom is concerned, but if it were to be looked at that way then: in og2, wesker probably shared a desk with enrico, so it could've been either one of them (maybe both?) who had a sus photo of rebecca. and in remake, it's just wesker who has the photo, since enrico probably has his own desk (since everyone else does, and also there are two new desks added in the back - either of which could be his). i would say that remake puts it there just to stay faithful to the original, but the remake version of the photo is significantly worse (somehow??? like, why did you go in THAT direction??) so capcom didn't improve. good job.
conclusion: wesker had the photo of rebecca for sure in remake. he may have shared that photo in og. everyone has their own desk in remake, they shared in og. and in remake, i think rebecca is the desk next to jills. also that photo looks nothing like her so i'm just gonna pretend that wesker used one of those ai thingies and typed in: "rebecca is the new rookie. pls put her in green basketball clothes. also put her in sexy pose, thx" and just printed off the one that either didn't have fucked up hands or didn't show her hands at all.
that's it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (it isn't even mine) (it was an ask that @highball66 got) (i'm just the private investigator hired to take the photos lol)
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cod-dump · 1 year
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pls god i will give you both my femurs for some good comfy soapghost plsplspls simon meeting johnnys fam and being simultaneously adopted bc john lets him call him johnny and no one else is ever allowed to call him that, bc soap told them how he’s always got a mask on but here he is meeting them without the mask PLS I WILL BEG
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MacTavish
Part 1
SoapGhost
(I attempted to write a Scottish accent in this. I tried 🥲)
___
Ghost underestimated how much Soap talked about him to his family. Even before they started dating Soap was gushing about his very attractive lieutenant. Ghost learned that because Soap’s elder sister was bringing up everything and anything to embarrass her brother in front of his boyfriend.
Ghost wasn’t sure about meeting Soap’s whole family. Meeting his sister was already nerve wracking and she greeted him with a hug. She was a tall woman, taller than Soap. Maybe an inch shorter than Ghost without the heels. That was his guess. She was practically the female version of Soap, except taller. When her eyes met Ghost’s he felt himself start to sweat.
“I wasn’t too sure when my baby brother said he was dating a Brit. But now looking at you? I can see why he jumped on you when he had the chance.”
Soap is mortified as Ghost blinks in shock.
“EVE WHY!?”
The woman laughed, poking her brother’s forehead, “Oh come on! You never brought any of your boyfriends home! I have to make up for all those years of embarrassment you deprived me of!”
Ghost had a brief relationship with his brother. This relationship that Soap had with his sister showed they had years of trust and love between them. Something that Ghost never had. Watching Soap try to grab Eve while she held him back by simply putting her hand on his forehead and pushing away— It made Ghost realize how much he missed out in the sibling department.
Going out to eat with Eve wasn’t as bad as Ghost thought it would be. She stopped being so intimidating when she started sharing things about Soap that Ghost may have or haven't already known about. Still, Soap still tried to argue with her on everything she said.
“—not to mention that you always deflect serious conversations with stupid jokes.”
“I do not!”
Ghost laughs, “Sorry, Johnny. She’s right about that.”
The mood at the table suddenly changed. Eve’s eyes widen before she turned her head and gave Soap the most deadly glare. Soap pales, focusing on his food. Ghost looks between them, wondering if he said something wrong.
“Johnny?”
“Eve-“
“No, you let him call you Johnny? John Hamish MacTavish, since when do you let anyone call you Johnny?!”
Ghost blinks, “He doesn’t let you call him Johnny?”
“No!”
Soap was covering his face, groaning, “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal! You always fought anyone you tried to call you that! Pa, Ma, me, Carol—“
“Please… Eve-“
Eve pulls out her phone and Soap gaps before trying to grab it from her, “No!”
“Everyone in the MacTavish family is going to hear about this!”
Soap wasn’t able to stop her. Eve laughed victoriously when the text sent out, turning to Soap who looked like he wanted to die. By the end of the night when they left the restaurant, Soap hung back to talk to Eve. Ghost was sitting anxiously in the car, watching them talk. Soap got in the car and groaned loudly.
“Sorry…”
“About what?”
“Calling you Johnny in front of her.”
Soap takes Ghost’s hand, “She was bound to find out.”
“You seem pretty upset about it.”
Soap laughs, “I’m upset that my sister has already called you her favorite brother. I’m her only brother!”
Ghost can’t help but smile, “She likes me that much?”
“She loves you. God… Christmas is going to be a mess… if you come…”
“Why wouldn’t I come?”
“My family can be overwhelming. It might be too much for you and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Johnny, I’m going. It would be rude to ignore your parents’ invitation.”
Soap smiles and leans over and kisses Ghost later that night as they laid in bed Soap was getting bombarded with texts and phone calls. Ghost didn’t think something as little as a pet name would be the cause of this. Soap had to put his phone on ‘do not disturb’ before hugging Ghost.
“I think ignoring it might make it worse…”
“Maybe. Don’t care.”
Soap kisses Ghost, the man melting against him as they got comfortable in bed.
_
Christmas came sooner than what Ghost was prepared for. It felt like he just blinked and Christmas was around the corner. He was nervous as he packed, getting ready for their flight to Scotland. Soap was excited, talking about his hometown and how he couldn’t wait to show Ghost where he grew up.
He guess he was too quiet because Soap stopped talking and walked over to him. He was trying to fold a shirt but he was shaking so bad that he kept wadding it up. Soap took the shirt from him, making Ghost turn to look at him.
“Baby, are you sure you want to go? They will understand if you choose to stay behind.”
“I’m fine! Just nervous.”
Soap puts the shirt down and hugs Ghost, “I get it. But I promise they’re going to love you.”
“I hope you’re right…”
“When have I ever been wrong?”
Ghost stares blankly at Soap. Soap bites his lip and picks the shirt back up, folding it.
“Don’t answer that.”
They finished packing, deciding to watch a movie before heading to bed. Ghost tried staying focused but he was so nervous about fucking up and doing something to make Soap’s family not like him. He’s only ever met the family of a ex-partner once before and that didn’t go well. To be far that boyfriend wasn’t out of the closet and Ghost was visiting as just a friend before his boyfriend’s cousin outed him. That was a bad experience and they broke up a couple days after.
Ghost knew that Soap’s family knew about his sexuality, they knew he was dating a man. But what if it was just mild tolerance rather than acceptance?
“You’re thinking pretty loud.”
Ghost blinks and turns to look at Soap. He had paused their movie and was looking at him with concern. He didn’t even have to say anything and Soap knew what was worrying him.
“They’re going to love you, love.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Si, I know my family. They’re going to take one look at you and then you won’t be able to get rid of them.”
Ghost sighs, “That fast?”
“Oh yea. Should’ve seen them when Carol introduced her husband. Poor guy wasn’t able to even go to the bathroom without someone bothering him. The only person that didn’t like him was my dad but that guy can look at a puppy and scoff.”
Ghost winces, “So I have to worry about your dad?”
Soap rubs the back of his neck, "No?"
"Johnny..."
"Fine, guy can be a bit... Protective. When Carol introduced her husband he wasn’t too happy about the guy already proposing to her without asking for his blessing. He’s old school like that.”
Ghost doesn’t say anything and Soap tries to smooth things over.
“He doesn’t like people that quick! It’s nothing personal he’s just like that. Always has been.”
Ghost looks at Soap and he leans over and kisses him, “He will certainly learn to like you way faster than Oliver.”
Ghost smiles to ease Soap even though he wasn’t convinced. They finished their movie and went to bed, but Ghost wasn’t able to fall asleep that night. When their alarm went off he was still awake and groaned. He was dead on his feet as they checked their luggage before heading out the door to leave for the airport. They had gotten a early morning flight because Soap wanted to spend as much time as possible while back home.
On the car ride Soap noticed Ghost lounging in his seat, eyes barely open.
“Oh, baby. Maybe you can take a nap on the plane ride?”
“I doubt I’ll get much sleep on a flight that is barely over an hour.”
“Still better than nothing.”
Ghost sighs, knowing that his anxiety will keep him from even getting an house of sleep. The flight was rather uneventful and Soap gave him his earbuds to listen to music so he could try to sleep. Ghost thinks he slept for thirty minutes before they landed. Seeing how excited Soap was made him keep pushing, not wanting to ruin his boyfriend’s experience of coming back home after being gone for so long.
When they walked out of the airport Eve was there. She got out of her car and ran over, hugging Ghost before hugging Soap.
“What the hell, Eve?”
“What? I hug people in the order in which I like them.”
Soap gasps and Ghost couldn’t help but preen. She helped pack their luggage in her trunk before Ghost got in the backseat. She frowned in a cartoonish manner when he did this.
“I was hoping to not have to share the front with this loser.”
Soap glares at his sister with the fury of a thousand suns. Ghost chuckles as they get in the car bickering about something. Ghost ended up falling asleep again. It wasn’t a deep sleep but it was a better nap than what he got on the plane ride. He woke when they came to stop, seeing that they were in a town. Soap and Eve were talking lowly, probably to prevent from waking him.
“I’m sure you talked to him about Pa…”
“A little bit?”
“John…”
“I was worried about scaring him. He’s already nervous about meeting everyone.”
“I doubt hiding how Pa is will help.”
Ghost made a noise and pretended to be just waking up. Soap turns his head and smiles at him.
“Hey, baby. Welcome to Glencolm! The place where I grew up.”
Ghost sits straighter in his seat to look at the town as they drove through.
“Farkirk Café?”
“Has the best burgers in the world. I have not had a burger as good as the one’s that ol’ Kenzi makes.”
Ghost makes a mental note of the place. They ended up driving a few kilometers out of town. They came to a big homestead, several cars already pulled alongside the driveway. Ghost saw some kids playing around the house. They paid no mind to them until they saw Ghost get out of the car, a couple boys running inside afterwards. Ghost’s anxiety immediately picked up, grabbing his luggage from the trunk along with Soap’s.
“I can get my own bag, Si.”
Soap is suddenly tackles by two girls. He caught himself on the car, laughing when he sees who jumped on him.
“Aye, look who it is! Two of the most beautiful girls in the world!”
He goes to grab them but they squeal and dodge him, running to Eve. They hide behind her, giggling as Soap stalked after them. Eve rolled her eyes with a smile.
“Mina, Ellie.”
The girls stood at attention, looking up at Eve. She makes a shooing motion at them.
“Go get your father.”
“Yes, Mama.”
They take off, giggling the whole way. Ghost’s heart ached at the innocence, they reminded him of Joseph.
“They’ve gotten so big!”
Eve let’s out a deep breath, “Tell me about it! Soon they’ll be dating! And you know I’ll have to kill whoever breaks their hearts!”
Eve and Soap start to move towards the house, Ghost following closely. The closer they got to the house, the harder his heart would beat. A man opens the front door, taking Eve’s hands immediately and pulling her in for a kiss. He then turns to Soap and pulls him in for a hug.
“John!”
“Hey, Jay!”
Ghost notes the man’s faint Welsh accent that mixed with a Scottish one.
The man looks at Ghost and looks him over before offering a hand, “Hello, you must be Simon.”
Ghost puts down a bag and takes the man’s hand. He could tell Jay was trying not to stare at his scarred face or hands. But Ghost recognized the curiosity and slight horror. He tries to ignore it as Jay and Eve welcome them inside. As soon as that door closed Ghost felt trapped. He wish he was wearing a mask but he knows that would’ve brought up questions. Jay reaches for the bags Ghost had.
“I can take those to your room.”
Ghost goes to protest but Soap takes his hand, “Let him. Ma would have a fit if we didn’t immediately go see her.”
Eve laughs, “She would. Hun, where is Ma?”
“In the kitchen.”
Soap starts to drag Ghost through the house. He tried to look around but Soap wasn’t giving him any time to do so. They walk into a big kitchen, two women talking over some tea. One turned and Ghost knew that was Soap’s mother. Eve and Soap looked just like her. The small woman smiles broadly and walks over, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Oh, my baby boy! Let me look at ya!”
She holds Soap by his shoulders and pushes him away at arm’s length, looking him over before she grabs him by his face.
“Ah missed ya so much!”
“Ma, I was here for Easter!”
She waves her hand dismissively, “Like that matters.”
She looks past Soap and straight at Ghost. He tensed as she studied him, unreadable. Then she smiles warmly and moves past Soap, taking his hands.
“Ye must be Simon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She laughs, “No need for such formalities. Ye can just call me Muriel.”
She looks over Ghost, pulling away and looking to Soap.
“Ya got yerself a looker!”
Ghost blushes as Soap shakes his head, “Ma…”
She ignores Soap and looks back to Ghost. She hooks an arm with his and leads him to the kitchen island. The other woman finally speaks.
“Ah see that yer just gonna ignore me!”
Soap laughs, “Sorry, Carol!”
Soap walks over and the woman glares at him but it melts away and she reaches out, pulling Soap into a hug.
“Good to see ya, little brother.”
Carol turns to Ghost and looks him over before turning back to Soap.
“Did ya see the biggest guy in the force and decide thats yer man?”
Soap smacks her shoulder as she laughs, “What? Ye always had a thing fur big guys!”
Ghost looked away as the two start to bicker, Carol walking out of the room with Soap chasing after her. Muriel shakes her head before grabbing Ghost’s attention with a gentle tap to his arm.
“Would ya like some tea, dear?”
“Yes I would.”
“Ah’ll get ya some then. How do ya like it?”
“Just a lot of sugar added to it.”
Muriel walks over to the kettle which still had hot water in it. Ghost looks around the kitchen, unsure what to do without Soap there. Ghost looks at the decorations in the kitchen. There was some porcelain farm animals in the window sill. A woman walks into the room, groaning.
“Ma, Jacky just threw up.”
Muriel turns around, “Oh no! Where is he?”
“In the family room.”
Muriel rushes out of the kitchen, leaving Ghost alone with the woman. She was short, had reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Her face was round and she had light freckles. She studies him like she was trying to figure out who he was.
“Ah’m sorry, who are ya?”
“I’m Simon, John’s boyfriend.”
Her eyes widen before she rushes forward and hugs him tightly. Ghost tenses, not expecting her to hug him. She pulls away and is holding him by the shoulders.
“Yer not what Ah was expectin’! Much more… handsome.”
Ghost flushes as the woman steps back and clears her throat before offering her hand.
“Hello, Ah’m Andy. John’s big sister.”
Ghost takes her hand, “Nice to meet you.”
Soap walks into the kitchen, “Sorry about running off Si-“
He freezes when he sees Andy. Unlike everyone else he’s seen, he seemed to put his guard up.
“Andrea… I didn’t know you would be here.”
“That makes two of us,” She looks at Ghost, “Where did ya find this big guy?”
Ghost felt uncomfortable as she looked at him. He also didn’t like how Soap was acting. Soap glares and steps forward, getting between her and Ghost.
“Military.”
“Huh. Maybe Ah should join. Get me a big guy.”
She starts to leave the kitchen, flashing a smile at Ghost, “Good ta meet ya, Simon.”
She leaves and Soap turns to Ghost after a minute, seemingly making sure she was gone.
“What was that?”
Soap blinks, “What was what?”
“Hey! John! Simon! Pa’s comin’ in from the garage!”
Soap jumps up, “Oh shi— C’mon, babe!”
Soap grabs Ghost and drags him out of the kitchen and through the halls. They come to be big open room with a couch and loveseat. Ghost assumed it was the family room. There are a couple kids running around but they see Ghost and run upstairs. There’s an old woman, maybe Soap’s grandmother, and a woman that looked around the same age as Muriel. On the loveseat was a man with black hair and eyes. He looked at Ghost and immediately looked away when Ghost turned his attention onto him.
He looks to the big sliding doors as they open, and his heart picked up speed when a mountain of a man came through. He had a light tan, red hair and blue eyes. Ghost realized this man was taller than him. Soap walked up the man with a grin. Before he can say anything the man grabs Soap and pulls him into what looked like a bone crushing hug.
“My boy! How are ya?!”
Soap wiggles free from the man, “Fine, Pa! Hey, I want you to meet Simon!”
The man’s gaze turns to Ghost and it was ice cold. Ghost could feel the judgment as the man walks over, definitely sizing him up. Ghost has faced hordes of enemies head on, has almost diex multiple times. But for some reason, this man was the most terrifying thing he has ever faced.
“Yer the fella my boy’s been gushin’ ‘bout?”
“Yes, sir.”
While Ghost addressed Muriel as ‘ma’am’ out of respect, calling Soap’s father ‘sir’ felt like a necessity for survival. He holds out a hand to Ghost who grabs it.
“Hmm… firm hand ya got there.”
Ghost could tell the man wasn’t looking for a reply. Soap groans and grabs his father’s arm.
“Pa—“
The old woman speaks up, “Isaiah. Stop foolin’ ‘round. He’s a fine young man.”
Soap turns to the woman, “Thank you, Gran!”
Isaiah rolls his eyes before backing off. Muriel comes into the family room with a little boy in her arms. Isaiah’s attitude instantly changes. He smiles and walks over to her, placing a loving kiss on her head. Soap walks over to his grandmother and sits next to her before motioning Ghost to come sit. The other woman around Muriel and Isaiah’s age smiles at him.
“Don’t let that eejit scare ya.”
Ghost looks to her and she pats his shoulder, “I’m Miranda, John’s aunt and Muriel’s sister.”
“Simon.”
“Well, welcome to the MacTavish home.”
Ghost smiles but he looks ahead of him, feeling Isaiah’s heavy gaze on him. Hell, he felt like he was in a war zone.
___
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Note
Pfft why can imagine the reader singing peaches to her crush 🤣😂🤣
Lucky: 🎶🎹🍑
The crush:🧍😳🧍‍♀️
Stawhats: 😳😱😭😡🤭
I don't know if you meant for this to be a request, but I was inspired. Absolutely none of this is canon to Lucky Break, this is straight up crack.
Can't Take You Anywhere
Yandere Straw Hats x reader x Smoker
1.9k words
warning for alcohol consumption
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"This is all your fault, you stupid love cook," Zoro seethed from across the table. 
"My fault? How is this my fault? Do you think I put her up to this???"”
“You did!” Nami butted into the argument, “Why the hell did you tell her to ‘follow her heart’ when she admitted to crushing on someone?!”
“I didn’t think she was referring to him!” Sanji gestured helplessly to what was disappointingly, the man of your affection. 
“She looks like you with all the dopey faces she makes every time she sees him! Who else did you think it was?!” Zoro slammed his fist onto the table, not having any of Sanji’s attempts to shrug off the blame here.
Sanji’s face dropped and he sniffled loudly, “... Me.” With that he dissolved into a puddle of tears on the table they were all seated around. Well, all but one of them. 
You were seated at the piano in the center of the restaurant, which you had commandeered by shoving the actual pianist off the bench and threatening to kick his ass if he interrupted you. To say that you had possibly had a little too much to drink tonight would be an understatement, but none of them thought to cut you off, and now they’re all going to suffer for it. 
Not one of them could have guessed Captain Smoker was going to make an appearance, and absolutely not a soul in this restaurant would have been able to guess what you were going to do about it. 
“I think we all share some blame here for not stopping her the second she stood up,” Robin’s face was in her hands, too ashamed to even look at what was happening. “Especially after she said ‘this one’s for my one and only true love: Captain Smoker’.”
Now it was too late. Now you were drunkenly belting out a love ballad to a fucking marine in the middle of a crowded restaurant and none of them were willing to go up there and stop you. Everyone was too embarrassed to go and associate with you when you were acting like this. Except Luffy who was happily taking advantage of your now unattended plate.
Their discomfort was nothing though, not in comparison to the absolute mortification on Smoker’s face right now. All he could do was stand there in abject horror as one of the pirates he’s been chasing for months loudly, and publicly, professed her love for him. His cigars had fallen to the floor after he had bitten clean through them. You were slamming away on the piano, not particularly well, and chanting Smoker’s name like it was a damn prayer. 
“If it weren’t for the fact that all of you are still seated, I would think this is the most genius idea for a distraction ever conceived. I’ve never seen Smoker stopped dead in his tracks like this,” Tashigi was standing next to their table, a mix of second-hand embarrassment and pity on her face.
Zoro glanced at her, not even caring that she snuck up on them, “You’re not gonna help your captain?”
Tashigi looked on at the drunken confession wearily. She doesn’t get paid enough to run interference on whatever the hell was going on over there. She cleared her throat and shook her head, “No, Smoker prefers to fight his own battles.” It was a lame excuse, but no one called her on it. None of them had any room to talk right now.
Just as she said that, they could hear you take a deep breath and scream out more of this weird song you came up with, “Captain Smoker, at the end of the line, I’ll make you mine!”
Finally, mercifully, Smoker snapped out of his stupor and launched himself forward. One arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand clamped over your mouth, thankfully silencing you. As he pulled you off the bench, his head darted around, desperately searching for the rest of your crew.
Tashigi waved him down, appearing to take mercy on her horrified captain. He marched his way over there, doing his damnedest to ignore the stares and whispers directed towards him. It didn’t help that you were wiggling around like a fish, not a care in the world for the scene you just created.
Smoker got to the table and unceremoniously dropped you into your empty chair. The second his hands were off you, yours were on him. You spun around and threw your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his exposed chest. Despite all the alcohol in your system, you were somehow strong enough to resist being immediately pushed off of him.
“Smokey~! Did you like my song? I sang it just for you!” You looked up at him, a love struck smile plastered over your face.
Gags resounded around the table at the cheesy nickname, and Smoker couldn’t help but grimace, “Do not ever call me that again.”
All that got him was some giggles, “Oh my god, you’re so funny! C’mon Smokey, we both know you love it! I mean look at you, your face is all red!” Not only was his face flushed, even his neck and ears were turning red. Smoker cursed over how pale he was.
Nami, who was seated next to you, was trying to pull you off of the marine, ”Lucky I am begging you to stop talking.” And singing. She would forget about your debt to her if you promised to never sing again.
You swatted at her while your other arm still clung onto Smoker, “Nuh-uh, you can’t tell me what to do! You’re just jealous that I found my one true love before you did!” Obviously the only reason anyone would disapprove of your current behavior was because they wanted what you had. What you and Smoker have, you should say.
Smoker took advantage of your loosened grip to rip you off of him, taking several steps back for good measure. The look you gave him was devastating, tears immediately welling in your eyes, “Smoker? Where are you going? Did you not like it?” Oh god, you were even starting to choke up.
As much as no one wanted you to be with this marine, they didn’t want you sobbing in the middle of the restaurant because of him either. Smoker was now getting dirty looks from not only the Straw Hats, but also the patrons in this establishment who no doubt thought they were witnessing some sort of lovers quarrel. He ran a gloved hand down his face, hating every second of this.
“Lucky, you’re very drunk. You need to eat something and sober up,” he tried to gently turn you around, but this didn’t work as you managed to weasel your way past his arms and clung onto his waist like it was a lifeline.
Sniffling pitifully, you asked again if he didn’t like your song, “Did you hate it? D-Do you hate me?”
Smoker looked at Tashigi for help, but she was refusing to make eye contact. He risked looking back at you, only to see actual tears starting to drip down your face. His heart panged at the sight and he internally cursed himself for what he was about to say.
“It was… fine. I don’t hate you, please stop crying,” he awkwardly patted your shoulder, hoping that would be enough to calm you down. 
“Really?” You immediately brightened up, much to his relief, “I knew it, I knew you would! I have more songs I can sing!” Relief promptly turned to horror as you attempted to get up and return to the piano.
Smoker forced you back down, swiped a bread basket off a tray from a passing by waiter, and shoved the whole thing into your hands. “No, Lucky, no more singing. Please just eat something,” he was practically begging at this point, wanting literally anything to help and absorb the alcohol.
You openly pouted, but did start ripping off and eating pieces of bread. There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire table.
“Tashigi, we’re leaving.”
“But Captain, the Straw Hats are right here! We should apprehend them,” she protested. 
“I am not dealing with the rumors that would be started by dragging this woman out of here after what she did,” his reputation would never recover. That, and he didn’t particularly want to deal with listening to your drunk ass all night.
Just as he was walking away, grateful that you hadn’t piped up again, he caught a look of panic flash across everyone else’s faces. He saw at least three of them spring out of their seats to grab you, and he took that as his cue to leave faster with Tashigi in tow. He put two cigars in his mouth, and debated on a third after the night he’s had.
“Lucky no! Don’t you dare!” Nami was holding onto your arms for dear life, having just barely stopped you from slapping Smoker’s ass as he walked away. 
Zoro hefted you up into his arms and deposited you into Luffy’s lap, “Hold onto her and do not let go for the rest of the night.” 
Luffy immediately coiled his arms around you, not wanting you to get up and do anything else. He propped his head onto your shoulder and huffed at the whole ordeal, “Lucky, why do you have to like a marine of all people?”
“The heart wants what the heart wants, you wouldn’t get it,” you sigh dreamily, eying up Smoker’s retreating form until he was out of sight.
“Can’t we just leave now? Please,” Usopp pleaded, slumped down in his seat to the point that only his nose remained visible. 
“No, we need to give Smoker a head start, we can’t risk Lucky spotting him again,” Nami immediately shot that idea down. It’s not like she didn’t want to leave, she absolutely did, but she couldn’t risk everything that just happened repeating.
This had to have been the worst hangover of your life, you don’t think it could get worse than this. The events of last night were blurry, but not enough to save you from the crushing humiliation of everything you did. Currently you were seated at the table on the main deck upon Chopper’s insistence that the fresh air would make you feel better.
Due to your head being buried in your arms, you don’t see who’s approaching. Suddenly, something is dropped on your head, making you groan from the contact. You lift your head enough to glare at the perpetrator, “Nami why?”
The smug look on her face was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold, “Oh no reason, I just thought you might want to look at the newspaper this morning.”
Oh god. The look on her face promised that you would NOT want to see it, but it was too late to ignore it now. You sat up faster than you thought you could in your given state and snatched up the paper, only to almost scream when you saw the cover story.
“Scandalous! Pirate and Marine have lovers quarrel in restaurant!”
Immediately beneath the title was a picture of you clinging onto Smoker with tears and snot running down your face. Truly they couldn’t have gotten a worse picture of you if they tried. Not that Smoker looked much better with the genuine panic flitting across his face.
“He’s going to kill me,” you say barely above a whisper.
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tumbleweed-run · 8 months
Text
Heart Beat
(18+, Explicit) kinktober 2023 Day 13 Heart Beat Bloodweave (background mentions of themxtav)
Gale’s heartbeat had been off-putting at first. Astarion had quickly been able to relegate everyone else’s heart sounds to background noise, except Gale’s. Gale’s heartbeat had been irregular to such a degree that even the constant irregularity hadn’t become regular. It sped up at the oddest times, skipped beats frequently, and when the wizard was at his least stable Astarion had actually become a little concerned he could hear the bomb’s slow detonation. Deep in the night while the others slept, Astarion could only hear the wizard’s.
In an act of self-preservation, Astarion worked hard to try and distance himself. 
Even after the tottering wizard had stabilized the orb, it simply wasn’t normal.
It had been jarring when he first arrived in Waterdeep, the absence of chaos in the wizard’s chest. The wizard’s heartbeat had returned to a normal human tone, often syncing annoyingly with Tav’s. And maybe Astarion had spent more than one early morning watching Gale sleep, listening to see if there was any remaining tick. That was for no one to know but him. 
Part of Astarion hated how attuned he’d become to Gale’s heartbeat, and through it now his moods. Months ago if he’d imagined which of their bizarre crew he might have allowed himself to be sweet on, well, he would have laughed at his own foolishness. Then he would have chosen Tav. 
He was half right. 
It was a strange comradery with Gale, one where they still spent the majority of their time arguing. But, admittedly, without the impending death from all sides, the wizard was… likable. Astarion had never been blind and had always acknowledged Gale’s attractiveness but he’d also done that with Wyll and Halsin and Shadowheart… As much as he’d wanted to strangle each and every one of them at times, at least no one could say they were an ugly group. Even the githyanki had her appeal.
He’d just never imagined Gale being someone he’d willingly kind of live with. 
This is why when he noticed Gale’s heart rate kicking in a way that normally he’d only associated with Tav he was a bit less than personable when he spat out, “She’s not here you know.”
Gale looked at him utterly confused, eyebrows drawn together. 
He didn’t know why the wizard was confused. Tav was… somewhere. Once she’d announced she was leaving for the day Astarion had lost interest. He couldn’t move about in the sun any longer so anything beyond these walls while the sun was out was lost to him. He’d never seen Waterdeep by day and that rubbed him the wrong way. It was best not to think about. 
“You’re thinking about her,” Astarion provided once it was apparent Gale was never going to understand on his own.
“I wasn’t, actually,” Gale asserted with a shake of his head. 
Astarion huffed, amused that the wizard was trying to lie to him. “Your heart rate jumps when you see or think of her,” he explained, “which it did just now.”
Gale’s head cocked to the side, he looked remarkably like Scratch waiting for someone to throw the ball. “My heart rate?”
“Yes, darling, your heart rate.”
“You can hear it?” Gale questioned, eyes going bright with interest. He leaned forward where he was sitting and his hands folded on his lap. Astarion immediately knew this look was one of academic interest. Mentally, he kicked himself as he realized he unwittingly trapped himself into one of Gale’s ‘curiosities.’ 
“I hear a lot of things, I’m a vampire remember?” he sounded more irritable than he really was, hoping to deter Gale’s line of questioning with a sour mood. 
Gale would not be deterred. “Well, yes but very few vampires have assisted in the books written on them. I had assumed enhanced hearing didn’t go that far. Do you hear other bodily sounds as well?”
“What a disgusting way to phrase that,” Astarion said, “and well, yes, I guess I can. But the heart is more important so it’s something I focus on.”
“Yes,” Gale mused his eyes darting toward his desk as if he were considering jumping up to record these details, “being related to the blood I imagine you would.”
Astarion realized he either needed to distract the wizard, leave, or resign himself to hours of torturous and invasive questions. He didn’t really want to leave, there wasn’t much in the rest of the tower but the questions were also something he wanted to avoid. So a distraction it was. 
“What were you thinking about Tav?” Astarion asked quickly as Gale opened his mouth to no doubt ask another series of questions. “I assume it was something filthy,” he drawled. 
Gale’s mouth shut. Astarion waited as a myriad of thoughts ran about the wizard’s face. “I wasn’t,” Gale settled on, his tone unusually neutral. 
Astarion smirked, wondering what dirty thoughts had been going through the other man’s brain, especially given how hard he was working to cover up that he’d actually had them. He turned and stalked towards Gale, pleased to have been finally given something to torture him about. 
Then he heard it. The kick of Gale’s heart once again.
Astarion froze as a realization washed over him. 
It hadn’t been about Tav. It had been about him. 
Oh, dear. 
The way Gale’s eyes widened, he knew that he’d been caught. Curious was putting too mildly a point to Astarion’s feelings. He desperately needed to know exactly what the wizard was thinking. 
“So,” he asked as he resumed stalking toward Gale, “if it wasn’t about Tav, what were you thinking?”
Gale clearly knew that Astarion had realized it had something to do with him, but he was sure the wizard would lie. Which is why it came as a surprise when Gale didn’t.
“That you look… nice,” Gale admitted. 
Astarion smirked finally coming to a stop in front of Gale. “Darling,” he purred, “you don’t sound like that over nice.” He couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward to thread his fingers through the wizard’s hair, leaning over him just slightly. 
A flush rose on Gale’s cheeks, and he cleared his throat but did not answer. 
“What,” Astarion gave a little tug to Gale’s hair and his lips dropped open appealingly, “were you thinking about?” 
Gale swallowed. “You know I find you attractive,” he was still evading the question.
Another tug, less gentle this time, forcing Gale’s head back so that his neck was arched enticingly. “Yes but what had your heart pumping like that? I don’t think all that blood was going to that giant brain of yours.” He glanced down and proved his point. Gale was hard against the front of his trousers. 
Gale’s eyes had gone glassy with Astarion’s manhandling which was certainly a revelation. 
“I want to suck your cock,” the words left Gale as if he hadn’t meant to say them. The look on his face confirmed that he hadn’t. 
Astarion froze once again. 
This was crossing a line that they hadn’t crossed before. Well, it was more like violently catapulting over it. Everything they’d done leading up to this moment had been in front of Tav. This would just be them alone. It removed all sense of security they’d wrapped themselves up in. 
Gale was quickly beginning to look worried, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“Shut up,” Astarion growled. 
Gale did. 
Astarion glanced down at his hand and realized. Realized that he’d crossed the line several minutes ago, the exact moment he’d threaded his hand through Gale’s hair. The wizard of course would let him back out graciously, more than graciously if Astarion never mentioned that he’d actually announced he wanted to suck his cock. It was with trepidation that Astarion realized he didn’t want to back out. 
The silence was weighing heavily on Gale, his eyes had begun darting around nervously. No doubt he would have fled from the room if Astarion’s hand hadn’t been keeping him in place. 
“On your knees,” Astarion ordered after letting it go on just a bit longer. 
Gale moved surprisingly quickly to his knees for someone who often lamented how they hurt. Despite this, once he was there, Gale just waited eyes locked onto the bulge in Astarion’s pants. 
“Fuck,” Astarion hissed when he realized what the wizard was waiting for. 
This wasn’t just Gale being overly cautious about Astarion’s sometimes panic attacks from certain situations. This was waiting for an order. This was submission. 
In the rare moment he’d considered fucking Gale alone he’d assumed they’d both fight for dominance. He’d been almost certain of it after he’d seen how the wizard was with Tav in bed. He’d thought that at best they’d reach and understanding, at worst he’d have to be the one to submit. 
Suddenly, the urge to wreck Gale’s composure was all-consuming.
“Take out my cock if you want it so badly,” Astarion growled through clenched teeth. 
Gale's hands were quick to follow that order, Astarion didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Once again, as soon as he’d completed his task, he waited. 
This was intoxicating. 
Gripping his cock with his free hand, Astarion brought it to Gale’s mouth. Teasingly, he brushed the tip across his lips yanking, Gale apparently couldn’t resist darting his tongue out for it. Astarion yanked harshly on the hand still embedded in the wizard’s hair, jerking his head back again. The noise that spilled from Gale was more a moan than anything, and his heart rate enticingly sped up with arousal. 
“Open,” Astarion ordered, tapping his cock off the wizard’s lips once he regained his balance. 
Gale’s mouth fell open, but he did nothing else. 
Astarion took the time to engrain this image in his brain, unsure if he’d be treated to this ever again. “Suck,” he said after some time. 
Gale drew Astarion’s cock into his mouth, only deterred when his lips met the vampire’s hand. He let go, arm falling loosely at his side. Surprisingly the wizard managed to swallow most of him down before retreating. 
At first, it was just as Astarion had expected: eager but skillless. Then Gale grew bolder, licking and sucking with a skill that Astarion recognized as not simply an inborn skill. Sure, the wizard spent a lot of time with his head buried between Tav’s thighs, but men were different. Cocks were different, and apparently, his wasn’t the first in the wizard’s mouth. 
He desperately needed to know, having always assumed the wizard as some kind of sexually repressed prude in his youth. Too wrapped up in magic, in Mystra, to have given his body to others. 
“And how many cocks have been down your throat?” Astarion asked, fingers tightening in Gale’s hair. 
Gale glared up at him. Astarion found he welcomed that defiant spark, the one that fueled almost all of their conversations. But instead of arguing Gale did something devastating with the tip of his tongue against Astarion’s slit. 
“Fuck,” Astarion hissed. He yanked on Gale’s hair, pulling him further onto his cock. He hadn’t meant to and was about to actually apologize when he felt the wizard swallow in an effort to relax his throat. Astarion’s eyes went wide, but instead of taking the invitation, he yanked Gale off of him. 
“I might like it rough, but I do try not to cause lasting harm,” he warned. 
“You wont,” Gale promised sounding very sure of himself. 
Astarion studied the wizard’s face for any sign of reservation. He didn’t find any.
“I am going to find every man who’s fucked your throat and write him a thank you note,” Astarion promised. 
Gale’s smile was wicked. “You’ll be writing a long time.” Then he greedily pulled Astarion’s cock back into his mouth before the vampire could even think to demand that he explain. 
Gale swallowed him down, working his jaw and throat until his nose bumped against Astarion. Astarion let him do this a few times before tightening his grasp on Gale’s hair, a warning. 
In response Gale very deliberately wrapped his hand around Astarion’s calf, digging two of his fingers into the muscle. Astarion realized this as the same motion he’d demonstrated to Tav not very long ago. 
There was no perception in which Astarion was considered green or inexperienced, yet Gale was leaving him upended. All this new knowledge was seriously affecting the image of the wizard he had created. It was leaving him dizzy and far more aroused than it should have. 
Astarion thrust into Gale’s mouth with no further warning, only stopping when he felt the ridges of the other man’s throat. Gale groaned, his other hand moving to hold onto Astarion’s leg for support. There was a soft scrape of teeth when he pulled back, and while Astarion could have ordered him to open wider or even jabbed his thumb into the wizard’s jaw, he relished in the feeling instead. Fucking into his pliant mouth again and again. 
Astarion wanted to come like this, to spill down the wizard’s throat. He intended to, but while he was an asshole, he wasn’t cruel.
“I’m not returning the favor,” Astarion warned, “touch yourself.”
He lightened up on his thrusts, doing so shallowly allowing the wizard’s tongue to massage him instead. Gale took this reprieve to pull his cock out and begin fisting it. Seeing it, Astarion almost regretted his proclamation, at some point he did intend to torture the wizard. 
“Suck,” Astarion ordered, hand falling to the back of Gale’s head. 
Gale did as he was told, sucking even as he had begun fucking into his own hand. He was moaning, the vibrations doing horribly wonderful things to Astarion. His eyes slid shut against his will. 
His head was filled with the slick sound of Gale’s hand on his own cocked, the wet moans around his, and the pounding of the wizard’s heart. It’s what betrayed Gale’s orgasm to Astarion. He opened his eyes to watch as the wizard spilled over his own clothing and hand. 
Astarion pulled Gale’s head against him as the man went pliant. His jaw relaxed totally, allowing the vampire to fuck his throat once more. Astarion didn’t last much longer, the knowledge of whose throat he was fucking pushing him over the edge faster than just the sensation. 
“Shit,” he cursed as he began spilling down Gale’s throat. He gagged now, pulling himself back enough so that Astarion finished in his mouth. Once he’d finished, Gale pulled himself back and held eye contact with Astarion as he very deliberately swallowed. 
They remained like that for some time until the wizard groaned and pushed himself up onto the sofa. 
“Perhaps some warning next time,” Gale complained. 
Astarion didn’t even bother responding, too focused on the words ‘next time.’
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