#sorry. this is such a dumb idea. but i think they would like calling themselves enemies of the state | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beenbaanbuun · 13 days

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Haiii this might be a weird request but I wonder if you could write an angsty Addams!MATZ fic 😭 so sorry if this is weird I've just been feeling really angsty! You can choose whatever happens lol I just wanna cry 🫶🏽

sorry i didn’t write this sooner!!! i really wanted to but i’ve been super busy over the past few days :(( i never feel super confident writing angst but i did my best!!! i hope you enjoy :D

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hongjoong yelled at you… hongjoong never yells. he doesn’t yell when yeosang is being difficult to train or just acting downright feral. he doesn’t yell when clients are being cheeky and asking for far too much. he doesn’t even yell when you’re being a brat and he slips into ‘dom mode’ to punish you. yet he yelled at you just a few minutes ago…

why?

it’s your fault, you tell yourself. if you’d just listened when he told you he was busy, none of this would’ve happened. he was already stressed so why did you think being a brat and pushing his buttons would be a good idea? of course he wouldn’t want to deal with you when he already so much else on his plate with work. it was dumb of you to even think he’d give you the time of day.

you try and keep your tears to a minimum as you stalk through the house. noisy crying would only be another distraction to hongjoong and you don’t want to upset him any more than you already have done. still, despite your best attempts, you can help the shuddered breathing and quiet sniffles as you make your way down the stairs and towards your favourite spot in the house.

the fire is already crackling, drawing you in like the pied piper. you can hear the hushed conversation behind the soft crepitation, but you ignore it, entirely too focussed on how nice it will be to flop onto your favourite rug and fall into a slumber. perhaps when you wake, everything will be fine. maybe hongjoong won’t be mad at you anymore. he’ll smile at you as he tells you you’re forgiven, placing a kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. he’ll take you up into his arms and apologise for yelling, speaking to you in the softest, most gentle voice he can muster. it’s a nice thought…

you reach the doorway to the living room, staring up at the large, oak arch that reaches high above your head. it’s carved with intricate details all hand finished by their artist friend, yunho. most of it represents their respective histories, each of their tales beginning from the bottom of the arch and climbing the wood like vines until they reach the apex at the top. prior to your arrival, their wedding had been the carving at apex of the arch, the image of two ravens, each holding a ring within their beaks, sat proudly above everything else.

now, though, the image at the top is entirely different. a lamb with dove wings and a dainty collar around its neck. the ravens still sit proudly on either side of the creature, watching over it as it sleeps. as you stare at it, you can’t help but wonder whether hongjoong will still be upset with you come bedtime. there’s a spare room down the hall that you used to sleep in when you were nothing more than their sugar baby and it was too late for them to send you home alone. perhaps you’ll have to reside in that room tonight, cold and alone and unable to sleep without the warmth of your lovers on either side of you. the thought has you biting your lip to silence a sob.

it doesn’t quite work. you still involuntarily whimper, catching the attention of both seonghwa and yeosang. their hushed conversation halts to a stop as they see you at the doorway, eyes wide and wet as you stare up at the very tippy-top of the arch. your fingers tangle themselves up as they helplessly fiddle with one another, tugging and twisting and picking until blood begins to pool along one of your nail beds. seonghwa can’t recall a time he’s ever seen you like this, and there werewolf had certainly never. they share a wary look.

“my darling lamb,” seonghwa calls to you in a hushed voice. he doesn’t want to startle you by being too loud, but he needs to pull you from this anxious haze you’d found yourself trapped in. he can’t lie that he’s a little relieved when your red ringed eyes flicker over to meet his. smiling is the last thing he wants to do upon seeing you in this state, but he knows his gentle disposition will calm you; it always does. his lips curl up softly. “what happened?”

the werewolf that has taken up residence on your favourite rug watches with concerned eyes. ever since his arrival, you’ve been an annoying little shit. an absolute thorn in his side when he wanted nothing more than to have a peaceful existence in his new home. you have no respect for personal space, you never know when to shut up, and you’re always way too cheerful all the time. they were facts that yeosang just had to accept when he realised you weren’t threatened by his harsh growling and gnashing teeth. all those times he had you pinned to the floor, spit spraying as he warned you to leave him the fuck alone only to have you giggle in his face and call him pretty; that person is nowhere to be seen right now.

“pup?” he hums, deep voice grumbling as his worries work themselves into his tone. even though he quite thoroughly despised you on his entry to the house, it seems you have this magical ability to work your way into the hearts of anyone you set your sights on. you set your sights on him before you even knew him; it took you no time at all to become one of his top priorities. “tell us what’s the matter. we can’t help unless we know?”

you take a few tentative steps into the room, bare feet tapping lightly against the parquet floor. they’re so used to your thundering footsteps as you traverse the house at your excitable pace. the silent footsteps you take towards them make their skin crawl.

you reach the rug, gently lowering yourself until your bare thighs hit the soft fur. your pastel blue skirt—the one that seonghwa had picked out to match the werewolf’s fuzzy blue jumper—bunches up around your waist, but neither of them have the time to admire how perfectly slutty it looked. it hardly seems right when you continue to wordlessly snivel and whimper, not even bothering to lay yourself down alongside your favourite werewolf-shaped pillow.

“hongjoong was mean to me,” you whimper, and seonghwa can’t lie, it confuses him.

hongjoong is mean to you a lot. it’s how he punishes you for being a brat, bullying you into submission until you decide to be a good girl. he calls you names, pushes you around a little—it’s nothing too severe but still enough for him to have earned the reputation as the crueler of the two of them. for a second, seonghwa thinks he’s landed on the answer, you must’ve been a little too bratty and couldn’t handle the consequences…

but that still doesn’t make sense.

if you couldn’t handle the consequences then that must’ve meant you weren’t in the right headspace to be punished. that in itself is nothing new, although normally, you tend to realise that before you decide to go and act out. it could’ve been the case that you didn’t realise you weren’t feeling up for a punishment but then you should’ve used your safeword. the fact that you’re sat downstairs with him and yeosang and not snuggled up in hongjoong’s arms is testament to the fact that you can’t have done that either. his husband would never do something so utterly stupid as to let you out of his sight when you’re clearly still upset over a scene you stopped.

so what happened?

did you just force yourself to take a punishment you didn’t want? no. seonghwa knows you’re too smart to do that just like he knows his husband is too observant not to notice. it’s something else entirely. something that seonghwa just can’t put his finger on.

“i need a little more information than that, darling,” seonghwa coos as he leans forwards to rest his elbows on his lap. his chin sits prettily in the palms of one hand, the other coming to rest atop your head. he pets you a few times, his touch like a cloud as tries to soothe you. your shoulders relax a touch, but your fingers still pick at one another in your lap. seeing you in such a state makes his heart sink. “lamb, what exactly did hongjoong do to make you so upset?”

you sniffle, separating your hands for just a second to wipe your tears away. they fall right back onto your lap, twisting and tugging and smearing the blood around. seonghwa can’t help but be thankful that nothing in the house is pale enough to be stained by your blood; otherwise he’d be marching you the bathroom to wash your hands, begging you to tell him what happened as the two of you walk.

“he yelled at me,” you say simply, as if that would answer all of seonghwa’s questions. it doesn’t. in fact it only fills his mind with more.

“he yelled? as in he raised his voice?” seonghwa asks softly. he hopes that the answer is no; that you just mean that hongjoong has scolded you for something. it’s a little bit of a strong reaction for just a small telling off, but you have been known to take these sorts of things to heart.

but you nod, and seonghwa’s heart sinks. hongjoong never yells at anyone, let alone you, his little dove. seonghwa and yeosang pass an odd look between them.

“master yelled at you?” the werewolf hums as he shuffles his body closer to yours. an arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly tugs you until you’re lay flat against the rug alongside the pretty creature. he lays the hand atop your own, stopping you from doing any more damage to your nail beds. the blood that spills onto his hands is nothing that bothers him. “why would master do that?”

the question is more aimed towards seonghwa than it is you. as close as you are with the couple, it’s only really seonghwa that knows the inner workings of his husbands brain. he always has an explanation to everything hongjoong does…

“i don’t know,” he says, a frown taking over his beautiful features. you hate it because you know it’s your fault. you upset hongjoong, you got yelled at, you told seonghwa, and now you have upset him. every sign points to you…

“it’s my fault,” you whisper. yeosang’s arm tightens around your waist in an instinctive display of protection. from what, he isn’t too sure. “i just wanted him to take a break but he’s too busy right now. i should’ve known.”

of course. seonghwa could’ve guessed it would be down to stress. it’s been a rough few weeks for hongjoong, the stress of yeosang arriving and finding his way into their weird, mismatched family, mixed with an increase in customers with the jewellery business, it’s safe to say hongjoong had barely had a moment free. of course, yeosang has calmed a little by now, but that doesn’t take the stress of the business away from his poor husband. he’s still being worked half to death by demanding clients who have more money than sense.

seonghwa imagines that any moment now, his husband will come to his senses and see that you were just trying to do something nice. that you weren’t just being difficult for the sake of it—which, granted, you often are—but were instead just trying to take care of him. you lacked the grace and finesse that the two of them did, but you still tried. demons, it fills his heart with love to know that you desire to care for them in the same way they care about you. you’re such a precious little lamb for them; they must’ve done something very special in their past life to deserve you.

“oh, my lamb,” seonghwa mumbles through a soft smile, “you have nothing to blame yourself for except being at the mercy of your own empathy. you prodded him because you were worried and that’s very thoughtful of you. your daddy should be worshipping you for such a kind act. i’ll go and see if i can’t talk some sense into him, hm?”

he stands up, long flowing trousers pooling gracefully over his feet. his red nails dance along them as he straightens the material out, trying to iron out the creases with only his bare hands.

“i’ll be back soon,” he hums, “let your puppy take care of you for now.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #matz x reader #yeosang x reader #opposites attract universe #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader

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xtrashmammalstefx · 21 days

Text

Chaos Monster & Her English Gent (A Callum Turner x Reader Smut)

Warnings: Smut, language, kiddos under 18 do not interact!

Notes: When I said I've become a total slut for this man and his bf Austin I wasn't fucking around. Lemme know if y'all want an Austin smut/sequel because I totes have some ideas I think you'll like.

Looking back I don’t think any of us expected this to happened. I certainly didn’t and I was the one who had the most to lose if things had gone sour rather than go the way they did.

I’m getting ahead of myself though so I’ll just start where this whole mess began: the first time I visited Austin on the Masters of the Air set. I’d sneaked up behind Austin, my best friend for life and possibly longer, as he was talking to a rather handsome man with the most unimaginably contagious smile. I put my finger to my lips once he’d seen me and jumped onto Austin’s back. “’Sup Elvis!”

“PRISCILLA?! FUCK!” Austin turned and scooped me up. “YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME BABE!”

I laughed and squeezed him back. “Well that’s what you get for taking for fucking ever to return my texts you ass!”

“Sorry ‘bout that sweetheart but duty called a hell lot more than I thought it would,” he said once I was back on the ground. “Oh,” he turned back to the smiling man. “By the way, Callum this is my best girl, Y/N, Y/N this is my new best friend Callum.”

“Nice to meet you my handsome replacement,” I said.

Callum smiled nearly bringing out a giggle from deep inside me. Fuck, he is good. “Pleasure’s all mine love, and I am definitely not replacing you. You’re more beautiful than I will ever be.”

Struck dumb by his buttery smooth British accent and killer icebreaker I turned to Austin. “He is a hell of a keeper.”

“Yeah I think so too,” Austin laughed. “So how long are you staying?”

“I’ve taken a week off work so I’m gonna be yours until about Sunday,” I said.

“Oh sweet. Can’t wait to show you off to the rest of the boys, they’re gonna love you,” Austin said as we started towards a couple other guys in period attire.

“Only until they get to know me,” I said. “Let’s see how they react once they see the true chaos monster you know and love.”

“Well, this is gonna be a right interesting week,” Callum said walking on the other side of me.

Of course he wasn’t wrong about that. The next few days were filled with me and Austin being a chaotic duo in front of his cast mates who were also quite chaotic themselves. I’m not sure how or when it started happening but whenever Austin was away either in costume or make-up, Callum and I started to talk. Barry would sometimes be there but most of the time it was just us.

“I’m really gonna miss having you around,” Callum said two days before I was due to leave. We were in his trailer. Austin was busy talking with his manager so I figured I’d bug Callum for a bit. He was changing out of his costume and into civilian wear while I hung out in his make up chair.

“You act as if you don’t have my number and social medias,” I said. “I’m heading home, not dying.”

“Well, talking with you on a phone or in DM’s isn’t exactly the same as having you here,” Callum continued.

“What can you possibly say that can’t be said over the phone?”

“It’s not what I wish to say but rather what I wish to do that can’t be done over a phone call,” he said starting towards me wearing nothing but his boxer briefs which left little to nothing to the imagination.

“And what exactly is it that you wish to do good sir?”

He smirked and started leaning down. “This,” his lips connected with mine. His plump lips were soft and warm as he kissed me. It wasn’t enough to send me off the edge and before I knew it I had my arms around him letting him carry me to the small couch. Once there he pulled back and brought his lips down to my neck. As he left what I was sure was gonna be a massive hickey I reached down and started palming him through his underwear. He groaned at the feeling, his body trembling on top of mine.

“I’m a bit overdressed don’t you think?” I breathed. He smiled and sat up. I reached down and lifted my shirt over my head. He took it from me and tossed it to the side before reaching for the zipper and button on my pants. Not even a minute later I was fully bare in front of him.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered pecking me on the mouth. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.” As he started to kiss me again I nudged at his briefs, doing my best to get them off. Callum got the hint though and pulled them off tossing them with my clothes. I think he could see how big my eyes got at the sight of him for he chuckled softly and said, “Like what you see, darling?”

I had no idea how to answer. If I’d though he was big when flaccid it was nothing compared to how endowed he was when he was hard.

I looked from his crotch up to his face as he continued to look at me quizzically with that smile that didn’t seem to go away. “C’mere,” I said moving from the couch to the floor beside it. He laid himself on top of me sending a shiver through me as his dick brushed my folds, ghosting my entrance. He reached down, gave himself a tug and placed himself there.

“Okay, love?” he asked. I nodded and just like that he was inside me. I clung to him as my body got use to the stretch. Callum cussed a rainbow of curse words in my ear as I enveloped him. His thrusting began soon after.

Turns out Callum is a gentleman in every sense of the word. He kept his movements slow at first, not daring to go faster or harder without my say so. Once the stinging subsided I brought my mouth to his, kissing him harder before telling him, “Harder… I need you to go harder.” With that he picked up the pace, almost slamming completely into me. “FUCK!”

“You’re taking me so well darling, fuck!!” He took me into his arms and slowly lifted me up, still thrusting into me. I held onto him moving up and down as he sat back. I rode him like that for a while until he lied completely back, putting me in charge for a bit.

As I moved my body conscious of the fact that I could see a small bump pulsating in my lower stomach, Callum reached down and started rubbing me with his long fingers. I bit back a scream at the feeling but let him keep playing with clit. It made me feel alive in a way I couldn’t put into words and before I knew it I was riding him like my life depended on it.

We continued like that until I began to feel the pressure build up inside me. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“It’s alright, darling, just...just let go on my cock,” he said grabbing my ass and slamming me harder on his length. The pressure continued to grow more intense, until finally I was screaming and tightening around him. As I remained clamped down on his length Callum wrapped his arms around me and flipped us back over so that he was on top.

He continued to thrust as I came down from the most mind boggling orgasm of my life. I was still seeing stars when Callum’s thrusts became sloppy. Suddenly the gentle boy I’d been falling for became beastly, almost roaring as he twitched inside me, filling me up until there wasn’t a single drop left in him.

My body was still shaking, my cunt throbbing, as he pulled out and collapsed beside me.

“That was… incredible...magical even…”

“It was the best damn shag of my life,” Callum said breathless making me giggle. I turned my body to face him and cringed at the soreness between my legs. “You alright love?”

“Mentally and emotionally speaking I’m fucking great,” I said. “Physically speaking...fuck… Callum, I love you with every fiber of my being and will gladly do this again and again with you but god damn I think you just about broke me in half.”

He laughed at that and kissed my now swollen lips. “So, you agree then? To be my girlfriend I mean.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “I’m pretty sure I’m more than that. I mean, I did just say I love you, and lord knows those are words I don’t say to just anybody.”

“Just to the lad who shags your brains out?” I slapped him playfully on his chest. “Only joking darling. I love you too, and I don’t say those words to just anybody either.”

“Just to the girl that rode you and milked you for every last drop of cum in your body?”

“Actually, I believe I just said them to the girl I want to marry.”

“Quite the fast one aren’t you?”

“Only when I know deep down in my bloody heart and bones that I don’t want to do this with anyone else,” he said.

“Alright, but there’s something we gotta do first… Something pretty damn risky.” He looked at me questioningly.

“And that is?”

I looked up and smiled nervously. “We gotta tell Austin.”

“OH FUCK!”

#callum turner #smut #callum turner x reader #austin butler

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enditen · 10 months

Text

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck.

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse.

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

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dreamesamu · 2 months

Text

friends to lovers (maybe?)

a/n notes: please listen to taylor swift - enchanted for a better experience <3

"alright, alright! bakugo please calm down," a sweat dropped from kirishima's face as he stood miles away to reassure the spikey blonde who was just hit the ceiling.

"calm down? kirishima, you know i hate that rumour bullshits. I've gotta kill whoever writes this absurd newspaper." bakugo exploded while his friend scanned the grey paper in his hand, acknowledging the circumstance.

"maybe that rumour you have a new lover must be the cover of something in it, I could help you out with that," kirishima rubbed his temple at the frantically bakugo screaming in the room "and in order to do that, you have to keep your head cold until we found some pieces of information."

that evening, bakugo went back to your shared home being extra grumpy.

"y/nnnn I'm goddamn home!"

he slammed the door and immediately noticed that something was different. started by you, and the soft music you called a masterpiece a few days ago he didn't remember, enchanted by taylor swift maybe.

"oh, you're back. what's the fuss?" you concern, munching something in your mouth.

"shitty day."

"right"

---

The TV was on, it was your favourite series. bakugo stepped out of his bedroom, hair half wet.

"hey, wanna make something together? I'm hungry"

"hmm." your eyes glued to the screen, mouth still munching. "I'm not that hungry, boss. maybe we could just order something outside?"

he was confused by those words.

later that night, some loud angry voices echoed faintly from his room, you never really mind though, you were busy at that moment.

"kirishima, what do you think if someone close to you suddenly acts... um... weird?"

"how weird do you mean?" spoke the other line.

"ugh... not spending time with you? maybe cook some dinner?"

kirishima, who's minding his own bussiness nearly caught off guard.

"who are you?"

"the heck?"

"now, that's really not a topic that I expect you to speak of. is it y/n?"

bakugo couldn't say a word.

"I guess that's a yes, then?"

"no"

"oh shut up." the other line laughed. "don't be shy, tell them how you feel, though my advices won't stand a chance."

bakugo ended the call, face flushed red, he would explode if kirishima said any further about you.

everything is weirdly normal the next morning, he stole every glances he could to check up on you. you felt it, but were to preoccupied to even question him.

"I feel like they were trying to keep themselves busy to avoid me."

now that was what he thought to himself in the mirror.

"should I try talking to them?" he silently let out a sigh.

---

"y/n, i'm home."

greeted him was a dark and cold living room, and uncomfortable silence.

"maybe they haven't done with their work." he dropped himself on the couch, exhaustingly pulled out the phone, killing some time while waiting for you.

the news on social media flooded with pictures of him and his rumoured lover, some chicks that he didn't even know. those just made him sick. he turned off his phone, inevitably fell asleep.

being woke up by a warm hand touching his cheek, he unconciously held it, thinking it was you. and it was really you, eyes full of concern.

"bakugo, have you overworked yourself?" you confronted him. "you look so pale!"

"goddamn it..." he muttered.

"pardon me?"

"you still care." he scoffed, a small smile formed up. "thought you're avoiding me. thank god"

you'd lost it, given up to him, but not completely. "what do you mean?"

"you're playing dumb." he muttered again. "I hate that shit."

you tried to swallow a choke. "sorry, can I take a seat?"

bakugo sat up, you shifted beside him uncomfortably.

"well... it's true that i've been avoiding you... I just thought that maybe the idea of us living together will make your girlfriend uncomfortable" but in fact, it made you uncomfortable.

"y/n, you do not know if the rumours are true, do you?" he groaned.

"yeah... but, still..." you rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"sorry... I just... thinking that i hate the fact that you have a girlfriend, someone I don't even familiar with." your head turned away from his, wanting to leave the room as you nervously shifted.

"it makes so much more sense now." you found in his tone somehow a bit softness. "you liked me."

your eyes widen. he knew? but who the hell-

"it's not that easy as you think to come to this conclusion. I know it's a little bit straightforward, but I think I've seen enough." he confessed.

"who... told...?" you were still in shock your words fell faint. and he was flustered. two minutes straight of awkward silence.

"ahem..." you pulled yourself together. "yes, i like you. but i sensed that maybe you wouldn't be the type of guy who's in for a relationship."

"for how long?" bakugo sat with his fingers fiddled, stomach burning, impatiently waiting.

"years" you sighed. "i was fine with every rumour you've been involved in in the past, but somehow this one is just my last straw. seeing them talking about you guys and the fact that this was spreaded for quite some time, i don't think it's gonna stop. so the best option for me is to just get over this secret little crush on you, last night was my first attempt, but I still care."

you laughed pathetically, pity youself. "you know, it hurts a lot to pretend that I liked the idea of you guys dating with my friends. it has been bothered me."

you cover your face with both hands, whispered softly "i'm just a fool"

bakugo felt his heart sank after the proposal, he moved closer to you, take one hand and squished it gently.

"sorry... I should've found out sooner." he then pulled you in for a hug. you bursted crying.

he closed his eyes, hand caressed your hair, "don't stop liking me, y/n." he had you safely in his firm arm, smelled the scent that sooner will became his. "because I think it's working."

"you... like me?" you sniffed. nose runny, watery eyes. he thought it was cute.

"sorry for keeping you waiting, I'll treat you like you deserved to be." he kissed your forehead, your face, then your lips. "I don't even know the person they told that i'm dating, you little idiot."

that night was sparkling. please don't let it go.

i felt it's ooc. because we have no clue about bakugo in a relationship, just predicting it. i'm clearing out my old drafts anyway, enjoy this little piece (i think?)

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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 4 months

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Hi! It's me again ;)

Now I have two, maybe obvious, thoughts...

1. How will Hua Cheng and Xie Lian react if the reader (assuming that the reader is a demon... Or demon and a god at the same time, for example) presents them with a paired jewelry with his ashes inside, as Hua Cheng did for Xie Lian, and reader not gonna say that the ashes are in there... Reader is just like "yes it's yours now" (personally, i see it as earrings... One is more modest for Xie Lian, and the other is brighter for Hua Cheng)

and 2. About the statues... Did Hua Cheng make statues for the reader as he did for Xie Lian? Or would he have expressed his love for him in some other way? 🤔

if you like ideas if you like the ideas, choose any of them and it doesn't matter it would be as headcannons or you write it as a story.

With love 💙💙💙

Ashes and Statues

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

Ajsjsjsjns I have rabies. Are you in my head? I've been thinking about this a bunch! So I hope you like my thoughts on it. I'm sorry if the earrings one isn't exactly what you were thinking because I'm slow 😔🙏

I'm using small details of my OC simply for the fact that Xie Lian and reader are very close and always have been close

____________________________________

When Xie Lian receives your ashes it's kind of like how he received Hua Cheng's. One day he woke up and there was an earring dangling from his ear

It was only one earring

The earring wasn't gaudy or flashy. Just a clear gem hanging from his ear. It was still beautiful though

When Xie Lian asks you about it, you only say "it's yours now"

Xie Lian has known you for a long time so of course even though you're a god he knows you're a ghost too even if you don't mention it often

So he's not dumb he knows it's your ashes

Just like Hua Cheng's ring, he keeps the earring fastened in his ear and keeps it safe all the time.

Most of the time the earring is hidden behind his long hair, but he keeps the earring in anyways.

The next time he sees San Lang he isn't expecting for him to have a new earring in his ear either.

That explains why Xie Lian only has one, Hua Cheng has the other one.

While Xie Lian's earring is simple, Hua Cheng's earring is bright and has red gems.

They look similar in shape so it's obvious they're a matching set.

Apparently you said the same thing to Hua Cheng, "It's yours now, do whatever with it"

And of course like Xie Lian, Hua Cheng keeps it fastened in his ear.

They didn't know ashes could be split up, they've never seen it before until now

Now Hua Cheng is trying to figure out how to split up his ashes too, he doesn't want to leave you out after all.

All in all they love the meaning of the earrings you've given them and they're glad you trust them enough to handle them.

♡

I definitely think Hua Cheng has made statues and art of the reader too!

There are a lot of things Hua Cheng does that has to do with art so I would imagine he would include reader in that too.

I think different readers also call for different circumstances but I definitely think Hua Cheng would make statues of the reader regardless out of admiration and love

Statues have been made of you before of course, so you're no stranger to seeing them. This many though all in one place?

When you guys find the hundreds if not thousands of statues of Xie Lian. Mu Qing isn't happy when they start finding statues of you too.

The deeper you all go the more you all find.

Some statues are you by themselves, some are paired with Xie Lian.

There are many statues that depict you throughout your life.

So while Mu Qing and Feng Xin are freaking out calling out stalker stalker

You and Xie Lian are really liking these statues. They're done so well...

You guys can't help but admire them.

____________________________________

I know it's short but I hope you like it😭🖤

I haven't read the book in a long time so I don't quite remember the statue arc details.

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf x male reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian

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funnier-as-a-system · 5 months

Note

sorry for the possibly dumb question

what the fuck is a system

Don't worry, anon, this isn't a dumb question at all! Systems aren't very well-known, so I'm happy to explain them to you. I'll start by explaining what a system is, then go more in-depth about systems in general.

So, you know how most people are one person? Or, rather, you know how when you meet someone, you assume they're the only person in their body? You don't really think "I wonder if this person shares their body and life with other beings." or "I wonder if this person I know is actually multiple people all sharing the same body.", but that's how it is for systems!

In simple terms, a system is any collective group of self-aware entities that share the same body (which is, I fully acknowledge, a complicated definition, but basically we have multiple selves whereas most people would have just one, and each self has their own identity). We may not specifically consider ourselves individual people (some systems see themselves as separated parts of one whole person, for instance), but it'll probably help you understand if you think of us as people that happen to share the same body. We each have our own sense of self, ideas, feelings, personalities, and on and on, just like anyone else.

Although this probably sounds very strange and surprising, it's likely that you've heard of systems before – just not with that language. Many people have heard of "multiple personalities" or "Multiple Personality Disorder", which is how systems used to be known. This sort of understanding of systems is especially common in horror movies, which tend to depict systems as serial killers or monsters. Of course, systems are no more likely to hurt others than anyone else is, but the stereotype and stigma persists, and can lead to harassment or even violence against systems.

However, you may have also come across more positive depictions. Body sharing is a common trope, for instance. People with Dissociative Identity Disorder, who often describe themselves as systems, are being more often portrayed as regular or kind people rather than serial killers, such as Uendo Toneido from Ace Attorney. I've often seen systems point to characters and series like Venom, Sense8, and Moon Knight – which depict systems or situations and characters that resonate with systems – to describe what their lives are like. We often find characters that are rather like systems that may not have been intended to be read as such and have a laugh about it; you might be able to spot the same, now that you know what you're looking for.

So, systems can be understood as when a single body is inhabited by more than one person, or being, or entity (whichever term you prefer). We may share the same body, but we each have our own selves, and often, our own names and identities, too.

That's the essence of it! I'll put more under the cut about systems in case you're curious.

For starters, if you're looking into systems, you'll probably run across the term "plurality", which is an overarching term that refers to all instances of someone sharing a body/brain; it is the state of being more-than-one, not just an individual collection of beings in a single body (the latter is what the word "system" specifically refers to). There's also the word "plural", which can be used either as a noun to mean the same thing as "system", or as an adjective to describe things that involve or exhibit plurality. For instance, I am plural. I very much enjoy talking about plurality and plural characters in fiction.

(As a comparison, you may think of video chats/group calls. Plurality, here, would be video chats in general. Meanwhile, a specific video chat – called a webinar – would be a system. And the people in a webinar would be the members of a system. Or, for another example, plurality would be education, a system would be a class, and the members of that system would be the students.)

Speaking of, beings who share a body – who are part of a system – are called many different terms. Two of the most common are "headmate" and "alter", although I also see "system member" a lot. I could say that my headmate was rather helpful today, or that my alter was fronting yesterday. Alter is more medical of a term, but it's more standard, especially in some other languages outside English.

But, wait, you might be wondering what fronting is! Well, since we all live in the same body, we've got to share control of it too, don't we? Fronting is what we call controlling the body, and switching is when we change who is in control. Some systems switch often, while others switch rarely, or only under certain circumstances, and some systems never switch at all. Switching may be involuntary, or it may be a voluntary skill a system has picked up. There's a lot of variety across systems.

Plurality is most often known in the context of DID, or Dissociative Identity Disorder, which often involves a lot of involuntary switches. P-DID, or Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder, meanwhile, involves very few switches, but these are likely to be involuntary, as well. There are other disorders that plurality may be a part or symptom of, but plurality can also exist as its own non-disordered state, so long as there's no attached or related issues causing problems for the system (ex. memory issues are another frequent problem in DID, and these memory issues come from the members of a system not remembering what the others did when those alters were fronting).

You may be wondering, how does this happen? How does someone become a system? There are many different ways. Sometimes, it's a part of someone's culture, religion, or spirituality. Sometimes, it's the brain's response to trauma, trying to protect itself. Sometimes, someone is simply born this way. Sometimes, someone may become a system out of the blue, or cause their own plurality somehow. Some systems have a multitude or mix of origins. Most studies on systems currently focus on systems that originate from trauma, as these systems most often have issues – including the trauma in question – that need to be looked into and addressed, but there are some budding studies into systems with other origins, such as the few current and ongoing studies on created systems (the aforementioned systems that cause their own plurality).

I'm simplifying some things here; identity such as this gets increasingly nuanced and personal as you learn more and more (for example, as said before, not all system members identify as individual persons, even if it can help understand them to think of them like individual persons that just happen to share a body). But I hope this helped you learn at least the basics about systems!

#thanks for the ask!#I'm leaving reblogs on for this one y'all better behave #and those of you who know a lot about s.ystems better read that last paragraph about simplifying things to make them understandable #before any of you start arguing

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suffersinfandom · 5 months

Text

Alright, I’m gonna talk about Ed and abuse.

“Why, V? Why are you spending your precious time on Earth typing about some dumb fandom stuff when you could be doing literally anything else?”

In short, seeing all of these “Ed is an abuser who’s inevitably going to hurt Stede” takes have been driving me absolutely bonkers since I first noticed them. They’re not going away, so I’m going to bang out an essay.

In less-short: it’s because abuse is a serious thing and, as someone who’s experienced it, I get a little feisty when it becomes a topic of discourse in my silly pirate fandom. It’s because it’s upsetting to read meta after meta accusing an indigenous man of being an abuser. It’s because a lot of the abuse discourse in the fandom fails to separate real-life abuse from violence in a show. It’s because the vast majority of the abuse talk only acknowledges physical abuse which, while terrible, is not the only kind that hurts people and utterly destroys their lives.

It’s because calling Ed abusive or insisting that he’s a future abuser can harm people who are like him -- people who have suffered abuse or get angry sometimes or have hurt people when they were hurt. Victims of abuse, especially those who dealt with it in childhood, often fear becoming abusers themselves. They bottle up their anger for fear of hurting someone. They hurt themselves in a misguided attempt to protect others. They don’t need to see fandom meta that enforces their fears.

And it’s because, frankly, I am unemployed and I promise I’ll stop if you give me a transcription or copyediting job, please and thank you.

Before I get into it…

I may as well come clean and say that I’m on team Ed absolutely isn’t abusive and it’s weird that people are getting that from a show that’s full of violence.

Plenty has been typed in Ed’s defense by POC in the fandom, so I’m not going to go into how deeply unfortunate it would be to make an indigenous main character an abuser. I’m just going to say that, when you consider OFMD’s genre and attitude towards violence, it seems clear to me that you can’t call Ed abusive without calling out other characters (unless you have some kind of bias against Ed). His actions are deplorable in the real world, a bit much in OFMD’s world, deeply unhealthy, not okay by any means, and shitty and traumatizing for his crew, but they aren’t abusive.

I’m going to try to keep things polite and respectful. I’m also going to try to stick close to what the text is trying to say; I truly do want to present an honest, earnest analysis of something that I love.

The arguments in favor of Ed as an abuser.

We can’t defend an idea without knowing what we’re arguing against (with brief counterpoints that I hope to expand on later). For this section (lol, sections, that feels pretentious and weird and I’m sorry), I’ll be lightly rephrasing things and omitting sources.

“Ed has anger management issues that disqualify him from being a romantic lead.”

Counterpoint: Ed does not have anger management issues. (Even if he did, I can think of a few very successful franchises with shitty and violent romantic leads. Ew.) He gets angry sometimes, as we all do.

“I defended Ed making Izzy eat his toe because that was a single instance and abuse is a pattern. Season two made it an explicit pattern.”

Counterpoint: First, feeding people their toes isn’t a biggie in this universe. Second, Ed fed Izzy that initial toe because he stepped out of line and demanded Blackbeard; it’s likely that additional toes were the victims of Izzy not being obedient. (I’m not saying this is right or that it’s cool to feed people body parts when they disobey, btw. I hope that doesn’t need to be said.)

“The first two episodes of season two set up the cycle of abuse so well, but the show never follows through. It doesn’t even acknowledge that it set up that storyline. If they’d wanted to end the season on a happy note without spending a lot of time fixing Ed’s relationship with the crew, they could have just made Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes less dark and abusive.”

Counterpoint: Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes isn’t abusive. It’s a bit over the top and it hurts people, yeah, but Ed’s definitely not following in his abusive father’s footsteps and systematically abusing his crew.

“Season two gives us straight up abuse. It gives us Stede, still soft around the edges, being deliberately headbutted during their reunion.”

Counterpoint: There is no abuse between Ed and Stede. The headbutt was not a case of a violent person intentionally hitting their passive partner; it was a confused, unwell, and nonverbal man reacting to the presence of someone who hurt him. Also? Stede has no problem setting boundaries or speaking out. Good for him!

“As bad as the season finale was, I’m glad the crew’s safe from Ed. Now that Izzy isn’t there to protect them, any little trigger could set Ed off and lead to him hurting them. Stede, though… Stede’s stuck with Ed and the corpse of Ed’s last victim, and it’s only a matter of time before Ed destroys him too.”

Counterpoint: This take is so far removed from the text of the show that I don’t know how to address it quickly, but here we go: Ed is not a threat to the crew after episode two, Izzy did not protect the crew from Ed’s moods, Ed does not have a hair-trigger temper, Izzy is not Ed’s victim, and -- vitally -- Stede is in absolutely no danger. Ed is not destined to be an abusive partner in season three.

And an overriding counterpoint to everything is this: Our Flag Means Death is a comedy with tons of over-the-top violence. If your theory is unrelentingly grim or looks at violence and its consequences in a real-world light, consider stepping back and remembering what genre the events of the show are happening in. If you think that only the violence committed by the indigenous lead is abuse, look at the actions of the other characters and ask yourself why Ed doesn’t get the same grace you’ve granted the others.

With that quick and dirty rundown of the arguments I’ve seen, let’s move on to the next important step in building an argument: definitions.

What is abuse in the real world?

In the real world, abuse is extremely serious and not something to be taken lightly. But what is abuse? We can’t say much about it in any world without knowing what it is in ours, so here’s a simple explanation:

Abuse “includes [a pattern of] behaviors that physically harm, intimidate, manipulate, or control a partner or otherwise force them to behave in ways they don’t want to. This can happen through physical violence, threats, emotional abuse, or financial control.” (1)

“Emotional abuse includes non-physical behaviors that are meant to control, isolate, or frighten someone. These behaviors are often more subtle and hard to identify but are just as serious as other types of abuse.” (2)

It’s important to emphasize that not all purposeful harm to another person, physical or otherwise, is abuse. “What abuse really means is control. When a truly abusive situation exists, it’s because one party is seeking to control the other through abuse.” (2)

To summarize, abuse is a pattern of behavior that involves one person intentionally harming another. That harm is meant to control, and it can take on more forms than just physical.

That said, I’m mostly concerned with physical abuse here, as that’s the only kind that I’ve ever seen discussed in relation to Ed. Going into mental and emotional abuse will involve talking more about a specific non-Ed character and I don’t want to go there. Possibly ever.

In our world, all abuse is terrible. Vitally, our world -- and this is very important, so underline it twice if you’re taking notes -- does not operate by the rules of a pirate rom-com.

Okay, so what is abuse in the silly pirate world of Our Flag Means Death?

First, we have to understand what the show is. @piratecaptainscaptainpirates lays it out nicely:

“1. This is a rom-com.The central romance between Ed and Stede and comedy are therefore the two most core parts of the show, with Ed and Stede's romance taking priority over everything else. That's not to say OFMD doesn't have dark themes, it absolutely does; it's to say that comedy is always important to how the show is written, acted, and filmed.

“2. This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.” (3)

Did you jot that down? Our Flag Means Death is a romantic comedy with one core romantic couple, Ed and Stede, whose story takes priority over everything else. It can be dark, it can be serious, but it is, at its core, a comedy, and not a subtle one at that.

Some things are just funny and that’s it.

As a rule, the most obvious reading is going to be the one to go with. The show’s meanings aren’t hidden under layers of red herrings and subtext; if you’re compelled to bring out the conspiracy corkboard, you’re probably in too deep.

But this isn’t just a rom-com: it’s a pirate rom-com, and that comes with gratuitous violence. Here’s a short, fun list of examples of things that we can consider canon-typical pirate violence:

Tying hostages to the mast and letting them cook a bit

Wanton murder during a raid (“Note the gusto!”)

Pirate A threatening his crush at gunpoint until Pirate B gutstabs him

Whippies and yardies

Cutting off toes and feeding them to people “for a laugh”

Pirates who are madly in love stabbing and poisoning each other

Literally any violence directed at a racist (this violence is, in fact, good and encouraged)

There’s also the pirate-typical killing of other pirates. Duels don’t seem entirely unusual, and Izzy outright tries to get Stede killed at several points in season one. When Chauncey Badminton and the English navy show up after being summoned by Izzy, Stede’s life isn’t the only one on the line; the rest of the crew is also put in potentially life-threatening danger. Izzy is forgiven, so I think it’s safe to say that attempted murder is the kind of thing that pirates typically move on from. Eventually. If the attempted murderer is pathetic enough.

In short, Our Flag Means Death has a lot of violence, and very few instances of violence (looking at you, Hornigold) are treated as anything other than socially acceptable. But do you know what’s really important in the show?

Feelings.

The way characters feel as a result of something is given an immense amount of weight. All of the show’s subtleties are in the realms of the mental and the emotional, and that’s where the real pain is too.

Nigel Badminton’s death was bad because it was emotionally and mentally devastating for Stede. Ed’s father’s murder was bad because it hurt him and forced him to create a monstrous alter ego to cope. Both of those men -- Nigel and Father Teach -- are totally acceptable casualties; their deaths would be net positives if they hadn’t had such strong impacts on our leads.

Feelings are everything in Our Flag Means Death, and the feelings of our leads are the heart of the show. That’s where the story is; that’s where the complexity and ambiguity is.

So what is abuse in this context? The casual treatment of physical violence and the seriousness of emotional distress tell us to adjust our own moral judgments accordingly. Physical violence is everyday, straightforward, and often comedic; emotional violence is devastating and complicated. Physical violence is cartoonish and, half the time, part of a punchline. Emotional violence is real and raw and not a joking matter. Attempted murder can be shrugged off; ditching your boyfriend after experiencing a traumatic event is more complicated.

When we ask ourselves if something in OFMD is abuse, we have to consider the act in the context of a rom-com that’s all about the feelings of two guys, set against the violent backdrop of piracy, and absolutely packed with people getting maimed and murdered in casual, comedic ways.

Awesome! Now we’re a little clearer about definitions and genre and how we should adjust our expectations! Unfortunately, we haven’t jumped into the real meat of whatever the hell this essay is…

Is Ed abusive in the context of the show?

No.

Aaaand we’re done!

Joking, joking. Obviously I’m going to pick out the examples of “abuse” that people cite and discuss each one, but first: we need to talk about Ed, violence, and anger.

Ed is not a violent person. He’s not full of rage that’s threatening to erupt at all times, and he’s not some kind of sadist that revels in hurting people. The violence of Blackbeard is a fuckery: the theater of fear, an illusion of cruelty calculated to terrify enemies into surrendering.

Ed has his whole thing with murder that's rooted in childhood trauma. Killing his (canonically, decidedly) abusive father to protect his mother scars him so badly that he distances himself from the situation -- blames Father Teach’s death on the Kraken -- and can’t bring himself to directly kill anyone else after that. Blackbeard orders murders and causes deaths and maims and maintains his image as a bloodthirsty murderer, but Ed doesn’t do “the big job” himself until the end of season two. When Stede’s life is in the balance, Ed can kill to protect him.

Edward Teach kills only to protect.

But that’s killing, and we’re talking about general violence. Ed is casual about the day-to-day violence of piracy. He participates in it, incites it, and doesn’t feel bad about it. No one does! It’s part of the job!

That leaves us with the "anger problem." Ed is frequently characterized as an angry person who lashes out when enraged, and I don’t think that canon at all supports this interpretation. Ed gets mad, yes, but his anger is always at least understandable. It isn’t a constant, simmering thing that turns him into an abusive monster when he’s triggered. He doesn't always deal with his anger (or any of his other feelings) in a good and constructive way because both of our leads lack emotional maturity, but I think it's a mistake to characterize him as an angry person.

Hopefully I can elaborate on this idea -- the idea that Ed is only violent and angry in a normal and canon-appropriate way, and anger is by no means one of his defining characteristics -- by doing a run-down of all of the times Ed is accused of being abusive or showing signs of being an abuser.

Sooooo...

Ed loses his shit on a falling snake during his nature adventure with Stede (S1E7). In this scene, he’s embarrassed about the whole treasure hunt thing and annoyed by the very existence of nature. He is not relaxed. When nature takes him by surprise by falling on him, he stabs the crap out of it in a scene that is played for comedy. There’s the important part: this is comedy. Ed is grumpy and his childish tantrum is harmless and silly. It isn’t a red flag. Overreacting while irritated isn’t an indicator that someone will be abusive.

Ed punches Izzy after the English have taken the Revenge, captured Stede, and turned Ed over to Izzy (S1E9). Honestly, I think the fact that Ed lets Izzy talk before punching him demonstrates a great deal of restraint on his part! This is justified anger and fear for Stede’s life. This also isn’t some sign that Ed hits Izzy on the regular.

In his post-pillow fort era, Ed is cleaning up his cabin when that one highly contentious Izzy scene happens (S1E10). Izzy insults Ed, tells him that he’d be better off dead than as he currently is, and says that he serves only Blackbeard (Ed better watch his fucking step). Ed reacts by grabbing Izzy by the throat and telling him to choose his next words carefully. This, in my opinion, is a valid way for a pirate captain to react to insubordination. At the very least, it doesn't tell us that Ed is Izzy's abuser; there's no indication that this isn't a one-off provocation and reaction.

Which takes us to The Toe Scene.

In real life, it would be extremely fucked up for a boss to remove an employee’s toe and make him eat it. OFMD is not real life. One episode earlier, Ed was talking about the life he was glad to leave behind -- the life where The Toe Thing was done “for a laugh.” Not as punishment, but for fun. It’s set up as something that’s gross (“yuck”), not a grave punishment. When Ed feeds Izzy his toe, he gives Izzy what be asked for: he gives him a violent captain. He gives him Blackbeard. He gives him the guy who fed people toes for fun.

But what’s important here is that Ed is not having fun. He’s having a hell of a lot less fun than Izzy is, going by their expressions in the scene. This isn’t who he wants to be, but after having the possibility of a better life snatched away, Ed throws himself back into the sure thing. He becomes the Kraken -- the captain Izzy wants, the violent monster that Ed thinks he is and tries to distance himself from, and the only thing Ed thinks he can be. It’s sad. It’s desperation, not anger and abuse.

In the second season, Ed headbutts Stede after he’s revived from his coma/death (S2E4). In the next scene, Stede is holding a cold steak to his face and calling it an accident. Roach says “that’s what they all say” -- a line that alludes to domestic violence. The thing is? It’s not, and the crew has expectations of Ed that Stede doesn’t.

Ed is freshly out of a coma (or newly alive). He’s nonverbal. His brain is, medically speaking, couscous. He still has one foot in the gravy basket. When he sees the man who left him hovering over him -- the man he loves, the man who just appeared to him as a mermaid -- he tries to say something then, when that fails, resorts to a headbutt. This is a single violent action perpetrated by a confused and hurt man who doesn’t know what to do with all of his feelings. He can't talk. He can't push Stede away.

Stede understands all of this, even if the other characters don’t. He sees the headbutt for what it is: a bit of a bitchy move. He isn’t afraid of Ed. He never is.

Stede also isn’t afraid of Ed when he acts out later that episode (S2E4). When Ed learns that Stede went back to Mary, he excuses himself from the dinner table, smashes a chair against the wall, and knocks a vase to the ground. In this entire episode (this entire season, tbh), Ed is having intense feelings that he doesn’t know how to express or work through; the reveal that Stede returned to his wife is the final straw. He takes his tangled feelings out on an acceptable target (a chair, a vase) instead of Stede because he doesn’t want to hurt Stede.

This looks a little like displacement -- when “an unacceptable feeling or thought about a person, place or thing is redirected towards a safer target.” Displacement is an “intermediate level coping mechanism.” That is, it’s more sophisticated than the ways children deal with intense issues, but it’s still not entirely mature. In an adult, it indicates a level of emotional immaturity. (4) Ed is emotionally immature, not inherently violent. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings and lashes out -- not at a person, but at something that can’t get hurt.

Displacement is not an indicator that someone is an abuser. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s an attempt at emotional regulation. It’s not the best coping mechanism, but it’s definitely not a sign that someone is going to go into a rage and assault people.

Stede cringes when Ed smashes the chair and sends the vase crashing to the ground, but he’s not afraid of Ed. He is never afraid of Ed because he knows that Ed isn’t a real threat to him. He cringes because sometimes that's what a person does when a loud thing happens. That's what people do when chair shrapnel starts flying. Also? It's kind of embarrassing behavior on Ed's part. They're guests enjoying a mediocre dinner! That's no way to act!

And this leaves us with the first two episodes of season two, which are an absolute mess.

Ed is fully in his Kraken era. He has no hope that Stede will return, he no longer trusts the crew, and he feels trapped in a life he absolutely doesn’t want. He thinks that he has to perform Blackbeard until death sets him free. He sobs in his cabin when no one’s looking. Publicly, Ed fades into the role of remorseless and bloodthirsty pirate captain.

Needless to say, this makes for a shit work environment. Ed works the crew too hard. He drinks and does drugs and runs everyone ragged. He’s an absolutely terrible boss, but he isn’t abusive.

That isn’t to say that the crew left on the Revenge isn’t traumatized. They are! They’ve been thrown off balance by the sudden change for the worse in someone who was their friend, and they’re traumatized by the neverending violence that the constant raids -- raids that were bloody and deadly, not the fuckeries of the past -- demanded of them. They’re traumatized by that final night in the storm when Ed did everything in his power to goad them into killing him, almost murdering everyone in the process. They’re traumatized by their own attempt at murder.

In S2E4, Blackbeard’s crew has flashbacks to the violence they perpetrated under the Kraken: Jim fighting Archie, Fang breaking a man over his knee. They’re also haunted by guilt about what they did to Ed, as evidenced by their Lady Macbeth-style scrubbing. Their own violence is a significant part of their trauma in this episode.

No, that doesn’t absolve Ed. He drove the violence -- demanded it of both the crew and himself. He hurt other people because he was hurting, and that’s terrible.

Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes of season two is horrible, but he’s not abusive. Not all bad or violent behavior is abuse.

(We also have to ask ourselves just how bad Ed’s behavior really is. Archie, someone from the pirate world who has no idea what the Revenge was like pre-Kraken, tells Jim “that’s how these things usually go” at the height of Ed’s violence. She doesn’t act like she experienced anything out of the ordinary which is, if I may be honest, kind of worrying. But ultimately, whether or not Ed’s actions when he was at his worst are normal for pirates doesn’t matter a ton here.)

But what about Izzy, I’m sure you’re asking!

What about Izzy indeed. Ugh. Okay, let’s just… let’s walk through the first two episodes.

One of the first things we see Ed do in season two is shoot a man. At first this seems like the show telling us that Ed is embracing the kind of violence he couldn’t manage before, but if we pay attention, we can see that he’s still following his “not a murderer on a technicality” logic. The man he shoots has a sword through his chest; he's as good as dead. He also falls offscreen before Ed shoots, making the action less impactful.

OFMD is not subtle and this is a quick way to communicate what’s going on with Ed. He’s not doing well and he’s more violent than he was last season, but he’s still himself under the Kraken’s makeup. He hasn’t done a moral one-eighty. If the show wanted us to think that Ed's a monster, they would have made him a hell of a lot more violent.

So. Izzy.

Immediately after Ed tells Izzy that he’s replaceable in S2E1, we reach the scene that people point to and say, “That’s domestic violence!” This is where Izzy breaks down because he has just been told in no uncertain terms that he’s not Blackbeard’s special little guy. That’s devastating to him, and he cries when the crew shows him kindness.

Jim tells Izzy he’s in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard; Frenchie describes their relationship as “toxic.”

A toxic relationship is “any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness." (5) And you know what? Yeah, Ed and Izzy definitely have a toxic relationship. Well-sussed, Frenchie! And is their relationship unhealthy? It sure is -- for both of them! But the crew is, understandably, more sympathetic towards Izzy because they’ve never been present when Izzy was hurting Ed.

(Only tangentially related, but the crew must have really liked Ed pre-Kraken. As far as they know, the man went dark with no warning or cause. They deal with his bullshit for approximately three months (assuming one raid a day), and he has to go so far before they put an end to him. Remember when they were ready to toss Izzy overboard after, like, twelve hours under his command?)

Even though they only have one side of the Izzy and Ed story, the crew isn’t accusing Ed of domestic abuse. The term doesn’t apply to the mutually fucked-up thing that Izzy and Ed have and, beyond that, the scene is played for laughs. Jim and Frenchie use comically modern language; the whole thing feels like an intervention for a stressed-out middle manager with a shitty boss. It's funny. It's a comical thing in a comedy show.

Moving on.

Izzy returns to Ed and tells him that the crew won’t throw treasure overboard to make room for more treasure. Ed says, “And that’s another toe.” Losing a toe is the penalty for failing the captain.

Which is more likely: that Ed cut off Izzy’s other toes on a cruel whim, or that Ed cut off Izzy’s toes after other perceived failures? I’m going for option two. It’s obviously not okay to punish an underling by taking toes, but we’ve already established that toe-removal isn’t a cruel and unusual pirate punishment. It’s done “for a laugh.”

(Specifically, toe-chopping is the cost of Izzy’s failure. Frenchie disobeys and lies to Ed in his short time as first mate and he doesn’t lose a single toe. Izzy bears the brunt of Ed’s cruelty because he’s the one who demanded it.)

This is not who Ed wants to be, but it’s who he thinks he has to be. It’s who Izzy told him to be.

Izzy makes the mistake of invoking Stede and Ed storms above deck. He holds the crew at gunpoint, one by one, and asks them if they think that the vibes on the ship are poisonous. No one gives him a positive answer and Ed turns the gun on himself. He works himself up until Izzy interrupts and the following exchange happens:

IZZY: “The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why.” ED: “Well, I don’t. Enlighten me.” IZZY: “Your feelings for Stede fucking Bo--”

[Ed shoots Izzy in the leg. Ed steps over him on his way back to his cabin.]

ED: “Throw this shit overboard and get suited up.”

I don’t want to go into speculation about the true cause of the fucked up vibe on the Revenge (it’s clearly not just Ed’s feelings for Stede) or why, exactly, Ed shot Izzy. What’s important for this post is this: Ed's actions are not unusually cruel for a pirate captain who considers his first mate out of line. This is the kind of thing that the idea of Blackbeard that Izzy worships does to maintain his reputation.

Fang cries when Ed shoots Izzy because he knows Blackbeard. He has been with Blackbeard longer than anyone else, and this isn’t Blackbeard. Blackbeard doesn’t work his crew this hard. Blackbeard doesn’t disregard the deaths of long-time crewmates like Ivan. Blackbeard doesn’t shoot his own crew. Fang is off-balance and distraught because his captain of twenty years is acting far, far more cruel than the Blackbeard he knew.

This is not Ed as he usually is. Ed at his worst is breaking all of his past patterns. He’s behaving like a different person. His actions at this point in time are not typical of his past actions or predicative of his future actions.

When we reach S2E2, Ed is chipper. He’s cleaning up, he’s tying up loose ends, and he has decided that, no matter what, this is the day that he dies. He’s determined. First, he’ll give Izzy a crack at killing him; next is the storm, the destruction of the steering wheel, and taking increasingly desperate actions to get the crew to stop him. He tells Jim and Archie to fight to the death. He goes to blow the mast away with a cannon and doesn’t react as nameless crew members are being washed overboard.

Ed is stopped only by Izzy’s reappearance and the violent mutiny that follows.

None of what Ed does here is abuse. This is desperate violence. This is an unwell man begging everyone around him to send him to doggy heaven.

And finally, we have the big murder party in the season finale. A surprising number of fans interpret Ed’s willingness to cut down naval officers as a sure sign that he’s gotten worse and he’s more violent than ever. This is, in my opinion, a take that completely ignores everything we know about Ed and his relationship to violence.

I said it before, but it bears repeating: Edward Teach kills only to protect. He murdered his father to protect his mother. He mows down colonists for Stede. He kills for love, and by the end of season two, he has made some kind of peace with the Kraken and his own capacity for violence.

It’s sweet. Like, it wouldn’t be sweet in the real world, but in this world? In a world where physical violence is funny more often than it’s serious? In a world full of pirate characters who all have hefty body counts? It’s growth. It’s Ed healing.

Ed is doing better. He’s not a threat to the man he loves, and now he’s not a threat to himself either.

Anyway!

No, Ed is not abusive. No, there’s no indication that Ed will become abusive in the future.

“Okay, but many abuse survivors take issue with the irresponsible message that Jenkins is subtextually sending with Ed’s story!”

That’s fine. Take issue with things. Feel whatever you want to feel, but remember that abuse survivors are not a monolith. Consider, just for a moment, that the abuse you think you see in the show is not textual. Ask yourself if Ed is truly worse than all of the other characters or if you have some bias warping your view of him.

Finally: please keep in mind that I’m not trying to present The One True Interpretation. I’m just rolling all of my arguments and thoughts into one big ol' ball and throwing it out into the wild. You don’t have to agree with me but, if you don’t, I hope you’ll at least have a bit of a think.

If you read this and liked it, please consider validating me with a like! If you read it and didn’t like it, I’m sorry for wasting your time. If you skimmed the first part and decided to dismiss me as soon as I said I don’t think that Ed is abusive… idk, peace and love and goodbye.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #edward teach #long meta #like too fucking long #abuse #tw abuse #cw abuse #me typing things #fandom critical #kinda?

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creepling · 7 months

Text

odd one out - j. slaughter & l. mckinney / 3k

synopsis: reader has been with her boyfriend leland since college started. they are your cookie-cut couple destined for love. that all comes to the flip-side when reader's friend from back home, johnny, pays a visit.

tags: fem!reader x johnny x leland. smut - MDNI. porn with plot. pining!johnny. cuck!leland. cuckholding. fingering (fem receiving). mild knife play. teasing/mocking. oral (male receiving). masturbation. vogeurism. use of 'girl' as pet name. manhandling/roughplay. fucked dumb. emasculation. possessiveness. doggystyle. mating press. breeding kink. unprotected sex.

“Is someone there?” Leland called into your house, holding your hand and standing in front of you protectively.

You had just returned to your dorm with your long-term boyfriend. The two of you have been inseparable since you met in college. And now, he is trying to protect you from the perpetrator who opened the mini fridge in the kitchen.

“It’s probably just one of my roommates, Leland. It’s cool,” You say, soothing his tense arm.

“Your roommate would have answered by now,” He said, standing guard.

The fridge-raider finally shows themselves, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Johnny – your friend from back home – leans against the door frame with a beer bottle in hand. He points it up in greeting, a sly smirk on his face.

“Johnny– what are you doing here?” You say, forcing a smile through your confusion. He had not said anything about visiting in your letters and didn’t leave a message. It was a surprise.

Leland was not so fond of the surprise visit, loosening his tension but crossing his arms over his chest. He never liked your friend, Johnny. He could tell a mile away he was a sack of shit. Everything about him made his skin crawl and bawl fists with anger. He never subscribed to the idea of him being a good friend for you, yet he also did not want to be one of those controlling boyfriends who tell you who to hang out with. Leland prefers to keep his wits about him when Johnny's around.

“I was in the city, thought I’d stop by,” Johnny leaned in to bring you into a hug, holding in his chuckle as he felt Leland’s eyes burning into his skull.

You hug back, clocking the beer in Johnny’s hand. “Well, it seems like you’ve helped yourself. You want something to eat or-?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Leland interrupted, making Johnny’s head turn. You look at Leland, wondering why his face is so stern, but you nod and excuse yourself. You take Leland to your room and shut the door, waiting to hear what he says in private.

Leland paces the room, which he does when he’s agitated or stressed. You knew he never got along with Johnny. They’re opposites of each other. Something like this, pulling you aside, will only make the chances of them becoming friends impossible. You wished Leland had trust in Johnny, like he has faith in you.

“Don’t you find this a little odd? Him turning up out of nowhere, without calling or anything? You send letters every week, and he never mentioned coming to the city.” Leland voiced his frustrations, waving his hands in the air.

“Maybe he had to go last minute. He always comes in to fetch things for the yard, so no, Leland, I don’t think it’s weird,” You shrug off.

“He should at least have the decency to call you. How many phone booths are in Austin? Thousands!” He sighs out the tension built in his body, feeling guilty about complaining. “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“I know you don’t see eye to eye. Johnny has his ways. He likes surprising me, and I like seeing him. That’s all it is. He didn’t mean to turn up unannounced.” You wrap your arms around Leland’s neck, looking at him with kind eyes.

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” He asked, convinced by your kindness. You always had a way of calming him down.

“The couch will do him just fine,” You giggle, giving Leland a peck on the cheek. Leland leaned down and kissed you, mentally cursing Johnny for sabotaging his alone time with you. He hides his vexation with a soft smile.

Johnny was sitting on the couch when you entered the standard room, smiling at the sight of you. You ask Leland to fetch more beers from the fridge, cosying up on the armchair across from the couch. Leland obliges and opens the fridge door, greeted with the empty sight. “All gone,” he called over.

“Dang, musta had the last one,” Johnny tutted, waving the empty beer bottle.

No shit, Sherlock, Leland thought.

“I can go to the store and get some more?” You suggest.

“No, it’s too late for you to be alone. I’ll go,” Leland said, pulling his jacket back on.

“Such a gentleman,” Johnny remarked, mockingly smiling at Leland, earning a hard stare from the brunette.

Leland went to the store before you could tell him off for glaring. Once Leland was out the door, Johnny looked back over to you, resting his arm along the back of the couch.

“Don’t call him that,” You tell Johnny, smiling at his so-called ‘playfulness’.

“What?” Johnny chuckled, acting dumbfounded.

“A gentleman, it’s patronizing,” You laugh, finding Johnny’s chuckle and charming smile contagious.

“I didn’t mean to offend him in any way, and you know that. I’m happy for ya. A pretty girl got herself a pretty boy,” Johnny badgers on, “a match made in heaven.”

You laugh it off, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, peering out the window for the sight of Leland coming back. Johnny flicks the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, carefully examining your features. You only got more beautiful as you got older, and if your strict family did not make you off-limits to him, he would have had you sooner. You could've been his fine-looking woman instead of that college boy rut getting the privilege to enjoy you. The thought of Leland acting all ‘boy-next-door’ to please your family sickened him. At least Johnny stayed true to who he was. Except Johnny was always the bad boy who was too old for you, a bad influence on you. He would corrupt you and take you down a destructive path. They were right about that, but Johnny cursed his inability to manipulate you. Once you looked back from the window, Johnny relaxed his face and kept his cool, as if the thoughts in his head were nonexistent.

“How’s college treatin’ ya? You still the brains of the operation?” Johnny asks.

“Oh, y’know, I like it, but there are people here smarter and got more chance,” You shrug. Johnny slowly shook his head in disagreement.

“I mind you being a pretty face with brains. That’s a rarity. There ain’t no one like you,” The compliment made you smile bashfully, your mind not fully accustomed to the philosophy.

You never knew how to reply to Johnny at times since most interactions with him are compliments – flirtation, but he had a good way of hiding it. Maybe that’s why Leland can’t appreciate him. He senses the intentions. To you, it’s all just fun. Johnny could have any girl he pleased and took pride in that. When he flirts with you, you think nothing of it. Johnny wants nothing more than just flirtatious banter.

What you thought wasn’t the truth. To Johnny, you are the girl he wants. The forever girl, the one he wants to settle with. Even killers have wives, the one women they tokenise. How could anyone suspect him if he’s occupied with the Southern bell of Newt? It is his one-way ticket to displaying reformation.

“Yer man’s taking an awful while,” Johnny muttered, tutting.

“The store’s quite a bit away,” You say.

Still, it’s time for Johnny to buy. He watches you stand and excuse yourself to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go change. I won’t be long.” You say.

Johnny timed it in his head, counting the beats of his heart. He slowly rises from the couch and takes off his jacket, slinging it over the sofa. Before entering your bedroom door, he fixes his hair and sucks on his teeth.

Leland frowns at the absence of you and Johnny, the bag of beer cans dangling from his fingers. His heart began to race, expecting the worst. His mind convinces him of a better solution as he places the bag on the table and removes his jacket. Johnny’s finally left, and you’re away to bed. That’s all it is.

He heard moans coming from the bedroom, your moans. His heart sank. They got louder as he stood there, taunting him in his fragile state. Rage burrowed within him and began to come to the surface. He stormed to your bedroom door, planning to swing it open and start the confrontation. But his hand trembles as he lingers on the door handle. A lump forms in his throat, and all he can muster is slowly opening the door. The door creaks as he shuffles inside, forcing his eyes to witness the atrocity.

Johnny had you bent over his knee, your clothes hanging by a thread on your body. His fingers were toying with your cunt as you mewled into your hand. Leland eyes are blown out wide, and he balls his hands into fists. Johnny smirks sinisterly.

“Get your hands off-” Leland protested, but he was cut short at the sight of Johnny holding up a knife.

“I guessed you would try that, so I suggest you don’t. Or I’ll cut her up bit by bit,” Johnny threatened, “You like it anyways, don’t ya, darlin’?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat closed, shame shivering over you. Leland fought the urge to scream, tears collecting on his waterline. “Please… just don’t hurt her,”

“This is what we’re gonna do, pretty boy. I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend, and you’re gonna stand there and watch,” Johnny ordered, keeping his knife tight as he ran the blunt end up your spine. You gasp at the cold feeling on your skin. The breathy tones of your moans petrified Leland. Were you enjoying this?

When he sensed Leland would comply, Johnny returned to touching you, collecting your arousal in his fingers as he ran along your glistening slit. You bit your lip, glancing at your boyfriend with lulled eyes. “It’s okay, Leland. I’m okay,” You reassure him, humiliated by his dumbfounded expression. A moan runs from your lips as you feel Johnny enter a finger inside you, slowly pulsing into your warmth.

Johnny never takes it slow, but he wanted Leland to soak up every movement he made. Prolong the experience as much as possible until it breaks him. Leland backed into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. Johnny chuckled at the sight of the boy’s hands shaking.

“She’s real tight,” Johnny drawled, “you must not fuck her enough. If it was me, not even a crowbar could pry me off her,”

Leland shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, wishing he could beat the shit out of him. Nonetheless, he knows better than to get violent. Your life was on the line as Leland carefully watched where Johnny placed his knife. His breath hitched when its sharp end hovered and glazed your skin.

Johnny slid another figure inside you, quickly grabbing your hair with his other hand and pinching his knife between his fingers. His lips lean to your ear, his deep chuckle fogging your concentration.

“Look at him, just standing there, not doing a thing. You really date this pussy?” Johnny taunted. You press your lips into a frown, but your moans are audible, shattering Leland’s ears.

Johnny slips his fingers out, smacks your ass, and orders you to kneel. You comply, gazing at Johnny’s figure towering over you, his hand stroking the bulge in his jeans. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

Thankful your back was turned from Leland, your lustful eyes look to Johnny in awe. In compliance, you nod your head. Johnny unbuckled his jeans, mesmerised by your eyes and forgetting Leland was in the room. Johnny cusps his hand behind your head and reveals his cock, guiding your lulling, drooling mouth towards him.

Leland silently winced, his lips in a grimace. At the sight, but more so of the feeling coursing through him. Gawking at your arched back, your head bobbing, your lips firm and perked on the tip of Johnny’s cock. He yearned to see your face, the way you look up at him when you suck his dick. Going steady with determination – for your nose to graze his snail trail. Leland sighs, hovering his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tighten. That should be him giving pleasure. Johnny captivates you, his cock a few inches bigger than his own, his member filling your mouth until you gag. Leland detects a twitch from his erection, pining for the touch of another.

Johnny changes the mood from across the room, shooting Leland an analytic side-eye. His lips tuck up a smirk at the sight of his hand slightly on his tightening jeans.

“Would you look at that,” Johnny awes mockingly, “Yer man’s starting to like it.”

Leland avoids eye contact with Johnny, focusing on your hushed eyes, trailing down to your craning neck, your movement eager and hungry. Leland unbuckles his jeans, shame overtaking him like a cold sweat.

“Say Leland, you like seeing ya girl sucking good dick?” Johnny taunts further before drawing his attention back to you, readying his hips to buck his cock deeper into your throat.

Leland strokes his cock, collecting his precum and warming the tip, biting his lip. The sounds of your struggle, mixed with greedy drool, send him into a spiral.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl,” Johnny groans, fucking your face into oblivion. Leland suppressed his whines, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking into the warmth of his hand. Sweat drips down his goosebumped neck, and he shivers from the mix of hot and cold sensations. Fear and arousal consume him, the tinge of anger lingering in his manner as he hastily pleasures himself.

Johnny slides his cock slickly out of your mouth. You gasp for air, a string of drool connecting your bottom lip to his tip. It drips on the floor as Johnny motions you to the bed vigorously, prompting your knees at the edge of the bed, pressing your cheek against his as his hand grips your neck. His manhandling sends a shiver down your spine. He whispers flattery into your ear, anticipating the warmth of your pussy, massaging your breasts and pressing his dick between your ass cheeks.

Knife tossed to one side, Johnny reigns your hips with his callous hands, the immersive size of his fingers squeezing your tender skin. His dick teases your entrance, motioning your hips to beckon him inside you. Leland attempts to suppress his pathetic moans as you beg Johnny to fuck you. Please. Please.

Johnny curses under his breath, the lustrous power controlling his instincts and satisfying him like a drug. His obsession transfers into his body as he clings onto you, pushing his cock slowly into your slick cunt, sighing in satisfaction at your breathy moans.

You perk your hips to adjust to Johnny’s size. He was bigger than Leland, his girth acting as pressure against your firm walls, encouraging the pulse of your heat to welcome him. “Johnny,” You whine, “Fuuuuuck.”

Leland could cry on the spot. Forced to succumb to the pleasure you felt from another and clouded with a carnal giddiness, gratification drowning your thoughts. He was a fly on the wall, sensing your love and passion poisoned by primitive arousal. His primal instincts conflicted with him. His heart now shattered, but his cock twitched, and he touched himself with more robustness.

“That’s it, take it all in,” Johnny sinisterly encouraged. He advanced against your firmness, burrowing his cock deep inside you, finding your sweet spot as you gasped in satisfaction. His eyes-lids droop at the feeling of you tightening around him, your cunt salivating in anticipation. Johnny bucks his hips and graduates into thrusts. His breath hitched as he picked up the pace.

You surprised yourself when your stomach fluttered at the animalistic nature of Johnny’s technique. Your knees buckled under his muscular frame, your hands gripping the sheets. Johnny takes his strong arms to hold up your fragile weight, pressing you against his chest. Whines pour off your lips as he smacks your ass and bites your neck. You thought about telling him to slow down, but the majority outvoted it – you didn’t want him to stop.

Passion and sweetness were absent as Leland leaned harder onto the wall, unbuttoning his shirt as sweat dripped down him. His abs glistening and absent of your touch, he spits on his hand and wraps the moisture around his aching cock, wishing for warmth. Leland observes Johnny’s thick arms entangling your body – all those nights of passionate lovemaking gone to waste. If he knew you liked it like this, he would have given you what you wanted and acted on the dreams he wished were reality. Now, he witnesses the result of his procrastination and watches Johnny fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could.

Johnny’s stamina does not come close to faltering. His pace is consistent and rigid. He only slows down when he feels the build-up in his stomach, stalking his climax to prolong the moment he has manifested for so long. “You know how long I spent thinking about you?” Johnny husked into your ear, “About fucking you, having you as mine? It’s been too damn long. Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this.”

You whine as Johnny’s cock slips out of you, but he quickly turns you around and pins you down on the bed. His hands manhandle your thighs, pinning them down as his eyes hunger on your pulsing cunt. He latches his mouth on your plump lips, and your tongue welcomes his, letting the roughness of his tongue explore your mouth. His mass towers over you as his cock aligns with your entrance. Johnny enters you again with another deep thrust, his length more profound than before. It causes you to yelp, his tip kissing your hymen.

“Not used to a dick this big, darlin’?” Johnny teased, smirking against your lips. His dark eyes pour into yours, and you get caught in a trance. You let his stare overtake your vision, moans bubbling in your throat as he propels deeper into you.

“You’re mine now. After getting fucked this good, you’ll never wanna see Loverboy again. Ain’t that right?” Johnny growled, his hands gripping your thighs. The reality of his words pierced through your cock-hungry mind. You glance over at Leland, biting your lip at the sight of him pleasuring himself. His eyes locked on yours, his groans audible as you whine as Johnny’s cock pummels into you. As Leland was close to climax, he squeezed his eyes shut, breaking contact. You look back at Johnny. His gaze fixated on your bouncing breasts before staring back at you.

“I wanna come inside you so bad,” Johnny’s words escaped. You look down at his cock fucking into you, your high rising. Johnny’s affirmation wanders in your mind before you moan in defeat, pleading it to be reality.

“Come inside me,” You squeak, your mind overstimulated and hasty. “Fuck. Please, Johnny.”

Aroused by your words, Johnny plunges your pussy, picking up the pace and gripping your neck. His forehead pressed against yours, and your shaking breaths harmonise with the vibration of his growls. The muscles tensing in his neck and the flex of his arms are enough to let your body surrender to him and prepare for his seed.

“‘M gonna fuck my cum into this little pussy. That’ll be enough to make ya mine, eh darlin’?” Johnny mumbles into your ear. You grow lightheaded as his harsh drills bring you to your climax, your bottom lip and legs quivering simultaneously.

“That’s it, girl. Come all over my dick. I’m so close, baby. So close,” Johnny grunts, “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make ya mine.”

Strings of hot seed fill your insides, and Johnny gasps and growls into your neck, his teeth scraping down your flesh. From the corner of your eye, you witness Leland moan and finish in his hands, his cum pathetically dripping off his knuckles and onto the hardwood floor. It was no match to Johnny’s broad frame pressing against you, his scent mistifying your senses. His dick slowly slips out of your sensitive walls, basking at the rutting sight of you with a smirk.

He had fucked you dumb, and the lust in your eyes was enough to beckon a second round. As Johnny tried to catch his breath, he glanced at Leland in his submissive state. He was now sitting on the floor, looking sadly at his mess. Johnny couldn’t paint a better picture if he could, and he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

“Don’t think she’ll want you after that, pretty boy,” Johnny mocked, laughing at Leland’s defeat. “She’s better off with me, anyways. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to show her a good time – but you already know that.”

#johnny slaughter x reader #leland mckinney x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #johnny slaughter #leland mckinney #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter x reader x leland mckinney #smut #creepling.brainrot

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lambertdiary · 7 months

Note

potential(? NSFW

ok so not sure if this needed a warning but what about Y/N casually meeting Dalton's dad (josh) and she thinks he's hot 😭

sorry if this is weird you don't have to write it

This is actually kind of funny 😭 (also for this let’s pretend Chris and Dalton are still roommates and Y/N became friends with them after the whole thing happened)

So maybe Josh was visiting Dalton one day, they hadn’t seen each other as much so he thought it would be a good idea to drive to campus and have a nice father-and-son day in town.

They did a bunch of things and Josh was happy everything went back to normal between them, after the whole incident and not being that close. But things seemed to be working out just fine now.

Later that day Josh dropped him off, and he decided to walk him to his dorm to have a little more time to talk with him, knowing that as soon as he left Dalton would barely phone him or reply to his texts.

“Thanks for coming all the way here” Dalton said as he opened the door.

“Yeah, no problem. We had a fantastic time” Josh entered the dorm following Dalton.

Y/N and Chris immediately looked up. They were both lying on Chris’ bed watching dumb videos online, but as soon as Y/N saw them she sat up and quickly tried to fix her hair.

“Oh, uh- Dad, this is Y/N” Dalton walked towards his desk to put his belongings down “And you already know Chris”

“Hi, nice to meet you” Y/N said right away, offering her hand for a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Josh” He shook her hand and gave her a friendly smile, repeating the gesture once he turned to face Chris “Hi Chris”

“Good to see you again, father of Dalton”

“Please, call me Josh”

Dalton was paying attention to the look on his friends’ face, his eyes widening as soon as he realised “So I guess it’s getting latte” He hoped into the conversation “I wouldn’t want mum to get worried”

“Yeah” Josh replied looking at his watch “I’ll get going” He approached Dalton to give him one last hug, and he immediately hugged him back.

“Call me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will. Bye, see ya next time” Josh waved everyone goodbye and left the dorm. The three friends stared at the door for a moment, until all of the sudden Y/N decided to break the silence.

“Oh wow”

“See? I told you!” Chris exclaimed, a little too excited for Dalton’s liking. “Are you serious?”

“What?” Y/N asked, she definitely didn't think they were being that obvious.

“Guys, I’m right here”

“Don’t worry Dalton, it's not like we'll ever talk to your dad” Chris stood up and rested her hands on his shoulders “Unless, you know…”

“Stop” Dalton said, shaking his head and removing Chris’s hands.

“If anything you should take it as a compliment” Y/N followed Chris and stood next to her “I see where you got your good genetics”

Dalton blushed immediately, but they could never know that, so instead of acting shy he rolled his eyes at Y/N and fell on his bed, dramatically letting out a loud breath as he covered his face with a pillow “Please don’t talk about my dad”

"We don't" Y/N defended themselves.

"I'm pretty sure I heard Chris say 'I told you' or something like that"

"Fine, we'll stop" Y/N took the pillow and raised her pinky in front of him "We promise"

"Whatever" He said, rolling on his bed to face the wall.

Y/N and Chris looked at each other, mouthing ‘He was hot’ at the same time causing them to laugh. Dalton just rolled his eyes again and made a mental note to never bring his dad back to his dorm.

#i loved writing this one #concept friday #dalton lambert concept #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert x you #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fanfic #insidious the red door #dalton lambert fluff #ty simpkins #insidious 5 #insidious #josh lambert #patrick wilson

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lost-in-lamentation · 7 months

Note

I'm really sorry if this isn't something usually written or slightly difficult to write, but I was thinking about how the brothers or any of the others would react to a MC who always wears a mask ? Like, they only ever take it off when their by themself and even then they still feel odd without it. So their immediate instinct when going out is to grab their mask !

It can be for any reason ! Body dysmorphia or just general shyness, anything

I deal with this myself, and I often get a lot of weird looks for wearing it since covid is less common now. I just have one preference !

-The MC needing a lot of reassurance and comfort before taking it off [ and even then or after a bit, they need to put it back on ]

To them it may feel like protection and security, so they rely on it a lot !

I'm really sorry if this is too long or hard to read, I'm not used to making requests (╥﹏╥)

a/n: hi anon! i totally get where you're coming from, you're not alone here. and no need for sorry! i'm glad you were so specific with the request, and i hope you find some comfort here! (´ω｀)

see end for more notes.

content: asmodeus and satan are curious as to why you never go out without your face mask. the reasons differ for each brother, please read the warnings before proceeding.

warnings: extreme body dysmorphia, panic attacks (asmodeus); shyness, appearance insecurity (satan).

comfort. satan, asmodeus x gen!reader (you/your). separate.

═ ˎˊ˗

satan.

for satan to be called confused was an understatement. he was beyond baffled that every time you agreed to an outing with him, you grabbed a mask each time from the box that sat atop your desk. if he was going to be honest, he never understood why you refused to go anywhere without one. after a long period of observation, satan realised the only places he saw you without a mask on was in your own room, or at the dining table. the very idea that you hid yourself away sparked his interest, which in return lead to a new period of research. much to his dismay, personal reasons would never show themselves in textbooks. instead, he decided to tackle the source (you) instead.

satan found you in the library, of course, mask on, flipping through the notes you had made during class earlier in the day. with a nod, he slid into the seat across from you, setting his novel down and propping his chin up against his palm. the way your eyes widened slightly didn't go unnoticed by him. neither did the way you pinched your mask and brought it higher up the bridge of your nose. behind the covering, you grimaced to yourself before clearing your throat awkwardly.

"is something the matter?" you asked softly, placing your notes onto the desk.

satan tapped his index finger just underneath his jawline. "why do you wear it everywhere?"

"... come again?"

"the mask," he said plainly. "don't you get tired of wearing it everywhere? i've read that some humans even complain because it gets hard to breathe."

you made a quiet sound of acknowledgement. "i just like wearing it."

"you're not a very good liar, MC."

a defeated sigh escaped past your lips. "promise not to tell?" after a nod from the demon, you steeled yourself to explain. "it's kind of dumb, honestly. i just get really shy when i don't have it on." at your words, satan sat himself upright, keeping his gaze trained on yours. "having it on makes it easier to talk to everyone. i'm not super good-looking, you know? so... i feel a bit more confident when i'm wearing it."

satan once again found himself far beyond confused. baffled, yes. perhaps, even dumbfounded might actually be the word he was looking for in this situation. his mouth parted slightly, and his hand slowly reached out to you, stopping at the side of your face. "you can practice talking without it on with me," he spoke in a tone that he reserved solely for you. "may i?"

you blinked at him rapidly, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. swallowing nervously, you finally nodded, your shoulders tensing when satan unhooked the mask from behind your ear. when it fell away from your face, you snapped your head to the side, feeling the heat run up your cheeks and turn into a blush. "would you look at that," satan purred.

"what?"

"you're actually very attractive."

"satan! you can't just say that!" your face felt like it was on fire. flustered, you scrambled to loop the mask around your ear once more, but the blush on your cheeks had already spread down to your neck. there was a beat of silence, and then a cough from you as you shifted in your seat to face anywhere but satan. "but, if you're willing," you whispered, shooting him a a smile from behind the mask, "i'd like to take you up on that offer."

knowledge was a wonderful thing. satan could never get enough of it. but when compared to the feeling he got when you relied on him, satan would rank knowledge as second. if satan could eventually have you get comfortable enough to go around without the mask, he'd see more of that smile he's craved since the first time he saw it.

═ ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

"MC!!" the voice echoed throughout the hallways directly into the classroom you were studying in. you turned your head towards the doorway to see the fifth born practically skip inside, coming to a stop in front of your seat. "i didn't get to show you the new lip tint i got this morning!"

you released a sigh, letting your pen fall from your fingers. "asmo, can this wait until we get home?"

"nonsense! it's the best time of day to try it out. come on!" you couldn't help thinking that all you wanted was to be left alone to do your homework, but all your thoughts came to a halt when asmodeus broke your one rule. within seconds, your mask had come off and was only hanging off one ear. unwillingly, you shrieked and pushed yourself away from the demon, his words falling on deaf ears as you fumbled to put your mask back on. with tears in your eyes, you burst out of the classroom, all your belongings forgotten as you tried to return to your only safe space; your room.

as you returned to your room, the fear and disgust overtook you all at once. you slammed your door with a cry, fingers digging into your scalp as your back collided against the wall. in the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your reflection. the hand mirror that had been so carefully placed on your desk showed you the mess that you were. disheveled and erratic, you stared at yourself, the mask doing nothing to hide what you were. in a daze, you grabbed it from the desk and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. you felt your knees give out from underneath soon after, and you crashed to floor in a heap. it felt like hours had passed before a hand tentatively came to rub your back soothingly.

you scrambled away from the touch, chest heaving as you tried to clear your vision. when you did, you saw the fifth born again, this time wearing a regretful expression. "MC, it's me. i..." his voice trailed away as he looked at you. "i cleaned up the broken mirror for you," he whispered. "and... i'm sorry."

your hands trembled at your sides, balled tightly into fists. "sorry for what?" the question sounded more like an interrogation, but you couldn't be bothered to watch your tone.

asmodeus looked at you sadly, his expression crestfallen. "i knew you didn't like having your mask off, but... i never expected you to freak out like that either."

"oh, so you're just calling me a freak now?!"

"no- that's not what i mean!" he inhaled sharply, internally scolding himself for not being the best with words. "let me rephrase," asmodeus began softly, his thumbs twiddling nervously. "i'm sorry for taking your mask off. i didn't know that it would affect you that much."

at the sight you of starting to relax, asmodeus felt the tension in his shoulders begin to slip away. you glanced at where the shards of the mirror should have been. "... i see myself in the mirror, and i see something i don't want to be," you admitted. it took every effort for asmodeus to not interrupt with a shallow sounding comment. "i wear a mask so that i don't have to see myself. so that no one else has to see me."

carefully, asmodeus shuffled closer to you, settling himself a few feet away. "i have some experience with that," he confessed to you. relief bubbled inside his chest when he saw you turn to make eye contact with him. "becoming a demon wasn't easy," he continued on, a bitter look gracing his face. "but maybe it'll help me help you with this. what do you say?"

"i don't know if i'm ready for that." you replied hesitantly, staring at the floor instead of him now. "but when i am ready, will you still be willing to help me?"

the smile on his face managed to lift your mood too. "i'll always be ready to help you," he promised, holding a hand out with only his pinky extended. you mirrored his gesture from where you sat, curling your pinky around thin air. asmodeus wasn't sitting close by, but you could feel his sincerity from miles away.

a/n: i was gonna have three chars originally but.. i kinda liked how these two went and couldn't think of a good situation for the third. anon i hope this finds you well!

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #obey me satan x you #obey me satan x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmo x mc #aris writes 🐈‍⬛#obey me comfort

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mecachrome · 3 months

Note

Hi I would love to hear about the elaborate secret wag au you hinted at in the pastries post if youre up to talking about it. I think I need it injected directly into my veins I love it so much

ok note to self i have to stop calling things elaborate when in reality i mean that i think about them really hard before i fall asleep and then promptly forget anything interesting afterward. but of course i'd love to discuss this very vague universe some more!! :')

honestly this is all an extremely self-indulgent exercise because i'm just a huge sucker for the combined secret relationship + famous/non-famous trope, and i will always read/write it for any ship iteration that presents itself! like there is nothing i love more than understated displays of devotion, especially when it plays into the 4th wall socmed fuckery space of one half being famous and having an otherwise large social profile and the other being very lowkey and resisting any publicity about themselves... in that vein i can't tell whether the concept is super cringe & embarrassing (well i can & i know it is, but the question is whether that is enough to Stop Me!!!) because obviously lando dating some Boring Dude requires a er... certain suspension of disbelief (also sorry for any unintentional disrespect to maxf), but what is fandom for if not making stupid shit up <3

anyway the secretwag concept also developed from two things, 1) how much i enjoy & endorse oscar's private-not-secret relationship philosophy + 2) lando's extreme loyalty to & dependence on all of his childhood relationships, so the idea kind of took root as "what if oscar→lando what lily→oscar (and also kind of what maxf→lando)" but just with more of lando's friendgroup dynamix & his streamer identity folded into the mix. the origins of their rship are what remain the most ambiguous & handwavey 2 me but in short they'd somehow meet when they were younger (maybe oscar is the same age as lando, maybe lando stayed in school longer, maybe oscar moved to the uk earlier and they met during their karting days... idk!!!) except then because of finances oscar decides to go into engineering and gives up on motorsport pretty early on.

(tbh i always struggle with justifying non-driverness in canon divergence fic because i'm like WELL REALISTICALLY oscar would just go into another professional racing category if f1 weren't feasible, BUT ignoring that) i think oscar would objectively be a super adjusted engineering student and would thrive academically / not stew in self-pity about giving up racing, so i really like this idea of like... sure, oscar is One Of The Lads, but unlike most people in lando's life who revolve around his work somehow or otherwise reflect his level of celebrity—drivers, the quadrant team, d-grade influencers & djs & social media personalities—oscar is just... Oscar. he's the smartest person lando knows and his love language is quality time and lando is the one usually doing acts of service for all his friends but oscar always wordlessly & unquestionably reciprocates that for him (lando annoying oscar into giving him a massage every night and oscar conceding immediately like ok... jon who❤️) and while lando has to go out of his way to navigate/manage the emotions of those around him and feels indebted to all his friendships he's never had to do that for oscar because oscar is the steadiest part of his life. and then obviously at some point when they're young dumb & drunk they get fucked up about it and start dating on the dl

(waves hands) anyway IDK but i'm just stuck on the image of like lando at 19 starting his first season of f1 and being raw and uncertain of himself and constantly catastrophizing about the future and trying to build out his brand and prove himself, and even like maxf is racing full-time that year, but at least he has oscar who's away at uni (in slightly aged up verse) and shows up at his place every weekend to ground him... like oscar never sugarcoats anything OR doubts himself OR needs lando to be any less open about his irrational fears so lando is like damnnn your cringefail earnestness and clear-eyed perspective of reality has kind of bewitched me *momentarily healed* etc. ft. domestic bants & the birth of master baker oscarpastry when covid hits and everything goes virtual & they quarantine together... lando starts streaming regularly and there's just this random dude in the background of half his streams and chat is like "???" every time like. Who is that + Why is he australian + Why is he cooking you dinner at 1am. his only social media profile is a private ig page with 50 followers.

+ after grad they keep living together and oscar becomes a wfh developer and i imagine him being very financially steady and self-sufficient but also like... deeply LAZY, so he has 0 ambition or intention to chase anything more demanding and is happy to just do his boring software job + be lando's househusband after hours LOL. like bringing lando pastries at quadrant shoots (ty chel 4 this image) between dull code reviews & expertly ducking away from the landolog camera & letting lando drive them around in his stupid gimmick cars and just generally toeing the line perfectly of being invested in lando's success and caring as deeply about motorsport as he does and even kicking his ass in iracing sometimes because he's kept up with sim racing but also keeping his ego in check and not making him engage in the world/politics/circus of f1 more than he has the capacity for on their off-weekends *__* finally lando is like babe i need to go commit tax fraud in monaco and oscar is just like ❤️ ok ❤️ we can move out tomorrow ❤️ and they find a tiny flat that's deeply overpriced but it's Them and it works. oscar plans his days off so he can go to half the races but nobody ever even notices him because the photographers don't know he exists.... except for maxv who lives in their building and met oscar once and was immediately like I Respect You #fellowsimracer so now whenever he sees oscar they get caught up in a conversation for like 30 minutes about random nerd shit and lando is very discombobulated about it every time. on the other hand maxf has been trying to be chill about lando of all people having been in a healthy committed relationship for the past 6-ish years so he frequently gets into trouble for making bad jokes about their sex life on stream that everyone thinks is them being homophobic etc. etc. ANYWAY YOU GET THE GIST OF IT!!!

#ask #this is so so stupid i'm sorry. but personally idt there can ever be enough secret relationship fic <3

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zerobaseonefics · 1 year

Text

what do you even know ? ㅡ kim taerae.

kim taerae x reader

maybe coming to that party wasn't such a bad idea...

warnings : alcohol, drunk reader. i'm kind of an harsh narrator sorry i suck at this ✋🏼 that's my first post ever :(

genre : fluff

you know, i kinda hate it when people put themselves into embarassing situations and then cry about being embarassed.

and when i say "people", i'm talking about you.

you were really not into parties. through all your years in high school, you never even been to one, very much repelled by the images and the words given to you after each one. what was so good about being with so many people in a small house ? dancing? drunk to the point they might not have a clue what they are doing ? you would rather be in the comfort of your home.

but, when you finally finished high school, you had one wish. you were willing to enter a new chapter of your life. you were open to new things, trying to change yourself for a better version, more confident and happy than the former one. your best friend, kim taerae, always supported you into that, still advicing you to take things slowly. and you agreed with that...

...however, when that girl from your class invited taerae to her house party right in front of you, you kinda lost it. i mean, i'm not supposed judge you and all, but damn, you were out of your mind for real. you decided to announce you'll come with your best friend to that party when your classmate told him he could bring a plus one. you saw the face of the boy shift into a surprised expression when you said that, asking if you were sure. and you were sure.

well, at least that's what you said. you had no intentions of going to that party at all, just thinking about it made wanna hide. but, if we were being honest, taerae was not just a simple friend. he was so much more than that.

you don't really know when you started having feelings for him. was it when you two started going to college together, when you saw him the first day of school with that one special smile on his face ? was it when you were in high school, the day were he gave you his umbrella because it was raining so much and there was no way he was letting you go home under the rain ? maybe you fell when you guys where 12 and he called you pretty when the boys in your class said otherwise ? it could even be the day you met, when you were 8, and he let you play with his bicycle.

it's not important anyways, now you were sure you were utterly in love with taerae. he made you feel the way nobody ever made you feel by just being a friend. and you wouldn't change it for anything in the world, because you loved what y'all got. you were never, never, ever, planning on confessing.

still, my friend, that's exactly what you did that damned night. you went to that party, and the atmosphere was just too much for you too handle. but how the hell were you going to chicken out and leave ? and let taerae with that one girl that seem to laugh so hard when he's around ? no way. that's why you started drinking. that was a really dumb idea actually but so much people were doing it and you realized it was probably to ignore that crippling anxiety.

but you drank too much. like, for real. wtf was wrong with you.

taerae kept his eyes on you that whole night, kind of worried about your drinking demeanor. when he saw you taking down one more glass, he decided it was time for him to stop you. gently, he took your free hand into his left one, using the right one to take away the glass from you.

"y/n, maybe you should slow down with the alcohol, don't you ?", he said, trying to give you a reassuring smile.

"taerae, i have no idea what i'm doing here..."

"i know, don't worry", he answered, holding your hand a bit more tigh. "you want us to take some time away from the crowd ? there is no one in the kitchen, we could hang out here. and if you really don't feel good, let's go home."

you didn't want to ruin that night for him. he didn't come to this party only to go because you were being a pain in the ass. well, that's how you felt, but i swear you're not, parties sucks anyway. and little did you know, taerae felt exactly the same tonight. he went only because you seemed so determined to go.

"i'm up, for the kitchen." you said.

without letting go of your hand, he smiled, taking you to the kitchen, far from all those people. there, it was just the two of you, with the loud music that was still shaking the whole house. it was so chaotic, yet so calm, that you started to feel more peaceful. when your eyes ended up on taerae's angelic face, you started to feel it. you know, that one strange feeling that made you fell all warm and fuzzy inside, forming a pleasant knot in your stomach. you just couldn't take your eyes of off him, and you were about to lose it when a coy smile appeared on his lips.

"is every thing okay, y/n?", he asked.

"what ?", you answered, not hearing him well because of the music.

he let go of your hand, letting both of them take place on your shoulders, to take you closer to him. the distance between the two of you was small, but not to the point it was too much. it was enough to make you frustrated, but your eyes had no choices but to trail on his mouth, when he asked you once again if you were okay.

"i love you'' you said, like your voice would get lost into the void and he won't hear you.

"i love you too", he whispered. but it was not enough, you knew he didn't mean it the way you meant it.

"in what way ?", said the alcohol in your system, making you ask things you would have never ask initially. he hesitated a bit before asking you,

"is it cool if i put my hands on your waist ?"

you nodded, and he let his hands go down your sides to end up on your hips, taking you even more closer to him. letting his head go forward to you, his forehead met yours, resting there. you didn't know where to look at, going back and forth between his eyes and his lips. even with your drunk state, you couldn't help but to feel a little shy.

"i'll love you the way you want me to love you", he finally declared.

"huh uh ?" was all you could answer, wanting to make sure it was true.

"huh uh", he confirmed.

"but i feel like i love you more than you love me", you added, looking into his eyes. he sighed.

"what do you even know..."

before your heart could burst, he pulled away from you, only going to pat your head gently.

"i'll take you home, let's talk about it again when you sober up."

#kim taerae #boys planet #boys planet reactions #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #kim taerae reactions #kim taerae scenarios #kim taerae fics #kpop

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slashthrashandcrash · 1 month

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Do... do you think Legion ever tried to do some version of a shovel talk to Meg? Like, not in a "break his heart and we break you" way, but in a "if Ghostface is going to date a survivor, he's going to date the Best Survivor, SO GET READY FOR SURVIVAL TRAINING: LEGION EDITION!!!!" way

The advice could be genuinely helpful, absolutely terrible, or somewhere in between. Not sure which is funniest. The training is mostly just the four of them taking turns chasing Meg around, while the three not running are yelling tips at Meg: ranging from survival tips to random facts they know about Ghostface.

What do you think?

GOD BLOB AND I HAVE LITERALLY TALKED ABOUT LEGION BEING SO NOSY IN GHOSTFACE/MEG'S RELATIONSHIP

I very much love the idea of them trying to be like "So, you wanna date our not-dad, huh?" when Ghostface first shows interest in her, to which Meg responds "No, actually. I very vehemently and explicitly do not want to date this freak of a man. I never want to be within 300 yards of him again for the rest of my life." But much like Danny, they're not taking her no for an answer, clearly she thinks she's too good for him then and this will not stand.

It's a no-win situation for her anyways. If she tells them she doesn't like him, they think she's being stuck up and how could you not like someone as cool and epic as Ghostface, you should be honored!! If she starts reciprocating for Danny, they tell her she's not good enough and to stay in her lane with the other Survivors. When Legion is alone with Danny, they call him a cringeass old man. Buncha sourpatch kids, honestly. Nosy as all hell because they don't like the idea of having to share Danny's attention (even when most of it is negative attention because they're lil shits) with someone else.

BUT...I think Legion coming around and trying to help out Meg in their own kinda useless, kinda dumb way would be a "sweet" bonding moment between them all. They sort of become a middle man between Danny and Meg since they're so insistent of inserting themselves in their relationship -- They tell Danny about the things Meg says she likes so he can cater to those, and they tell Meg about the things that can make him rant for hours if she ever needs a quick distraction for when she's not in the mood to deal with his antics.

I also think it would be really funny if Legion is much more well behaved and mannered with Meg compared to Danny, not necessarily because they respect her, but because it's hilarious watching him get pissed about it. Ghostface tells them not to do something and they'll look him dead in the eyes while doing it anyways. Meg tells them not to do the same thing 5 minutes later and they're like "yes ma'am, sorry ma'am [puts thing back how they found it]". They're getting along with your girlfriend man, you gotta pick your battles and also understand you're going to lose every single one when pitted against teenagers.

Bonus: Legion only found out they were "dating" because they caught Danny sneaking off between trials to go to the survivor camp and assumed he was cheating the system or something to be the Entity's golden boy. Until they opened the locker and found him making out with Meg. It was extremely awkward. Legion cornered her during the next trial they had together for all the hot gossip.

Bonus Bonus: Every time Legion snags Meg to interrogate and/or train her, it's eventually interrupted by Danny (because those brats have been quiet and out of sight for too long and he's getting suspicious) who slings Meg over his shoulder and tells them to stop harassing her. They do not agree to these terms and conditions.

#ask #thecatchat #ask me about anything ghostmeg or legion related and it is impossible for me not to reply with multiparagraphs

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poisonsage808 · 1 year

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oh good flight!

may I ask anything for Pod (my softie boi) with fake dating? like I don't want to give too much guidelines, because I think that all your ideas are FANTASTIC, but maybe either him saving reader from a weirdo or being the one to pretend to be your date, after having been stood up! (those are just ideas, I am fine with anything that you come up with!)

hope it's alright and have a lovely day!

♡ As You Are ♡

Podrick Payne x F!Reader

a/n: as we talked about this isn’t exactly what you asked for, im so sorry about that and i hope you like what i came up with <3 thank you for your constant support, friend

“King Cunt thinks himself a hero,” Ser Bronn says all too nonchalantly as he scours over the lavishly decorated room.

A ball in the midst of a war. Celebrating a minor victory that Joffrey hid through just about the entire time. Only a delusional king would do something so foolish.

“He’s making a point.” Lord Tyrion raises a brow then his own cup to his lips, “He won. Stannis lost.”

“That's what I said. He didn’t do shit though.”

The two talked bitterly amongst themselves, more so the shorter man than the sellsword. While Bronn was no longer Commander of the City Watch, he was knighted after the battle and still reaped just as many benefits as before. Tyrion was stripped of his title as Hand and demoted to Master of Coin, further souring his taste for this event, and as a slap to the face he was moved into a closet that served pitifully as his new chambers.

However nothing changed much for Podrick Payne.

He killed a man to save his Lord but felt it was justified, there was no horror in what he’d done to keep him up late at night. He received no knighthood and likely he never would, Tyrion wasn’t a knight and couldn’t perform that for him. Still, the youngest Lannister attempted to repay the debt of his life with… many beautiful women. He may not be a Ser but the title Pod the Rod was earned shortly after that day.

Vines fell from the ceiling and wrapped around pillars, pretty white flowers blooming or budding in various spots. An absurdly high mountain of food spread across the longest table Pod’s ever seen. (Was it not just days ago the city was famished? Not that the people of the Red Keep should care, the reach of its effect stopped with the bread riot.) At the desert end of the table was arguably one of the prettiest things of this whole dumb ball.

Truth be told, Pod didn’t feel he deserved the moniker that, depending on who called him that, made his ears flush pink or his eyes roll. All he did was ask the ladies questions. What would make a woman happy? What do women like? How can he please one, really please them? They didn’t charge him for answers. They cooed and fawned over him for- what he always assumed was- doing the bare minimum.

The reason for his seemingly endless string of questions ended right over there, biting into a round finger cake that was sprinkled with blueberries. The object of his desires ever since he came into Lord Tyrion’s service. Pod had invited you to take a walk with him in the gardens that first day, it shocked him that he asked and stopped his heart when you agreed! However wars prove to take up most people’s time unfortunately and he was no exception. But gods above, you were as sweet as dessert, pretty as the dainty ruby necklace and once he was a knight, Podrick would surely be worthy of your affections.

Your gown matched the crimson red of his leather. Everyone was wearing red if they could help it per King Joffrey’s demand. Yet you stood out so effortlessly.

“Hungry, Pod?” Tyrion looks into his cup with a smirk.

His eyes go wide and the tips of his ears red like the rest of the room.

“Podrick would you mind fetching me something sweet? Perhaps with cherries?”

“Yes, m’lord.”

Bronn snorts, “Get yourself a slice of pie while you’re at it, boy.”

He threw the sellsword a vicious glareHow convenient you just happened to be standing there. From above Tyrion pats himself on the back.

“E-Excuse me, m’lady.”

Your lips pull into a soft smile when you hear that voice.

You’ve had plenty of short conversations with Podrick Payne and plenty more longing looks from a distance. He was kind, offering to carry things for you then rushing dutifully back to Lord Tyrion. You’re not sure you’ve seen him doing genuine work of a squire but you do see him putting the fullest extent of his efforts into what he does.

“Hello Podrick,” You smiled, setting your plate down.

For a second he just stares at you with a dopey grin, “Hello.” Then his eyes go wide and he bows suddenly, like he remembers it’s what he should’ve done in the first place. You laugh, politely covering your mouth with your hand but it does little. Podrick doesn’t mind either way. He likes that sound, he likes making you laugh and seeing the way your eyes crinkle in delight when you do.

“Your duties are never done, it seems.” You say teasingly as he grabs a plate and stacks cherry tarts on it.

“I don’t mind being-being kept busy, ‘specially now,” Pod exhales nervously, still grinning, “Lord Tyrion doesn’t have much work for me to do since, y’know, he’s not Hand anymore.” He quickly adds, “M-M’lady.”

With his eyes on the table, the young man doesn’t see the way your lips go from a pout to a sly smile. You dare to take a step closer, turning as if also scanning the display of desserts to make it look less obvious to any wandering eyes. Your shoulder barely brushed against his and yet Pod’s breath caught in his throat.

“Well,” Your voice hushes, innocently enough but it sends the hairs of his neck on end, “If you ever find time, I’d love for you to take me on that walk you promised me.”

You remembered that? Pod blinked away his disbelief by the time you stood face to face, still a respectable distance apart. You raised your eyebrows a bit, lips tugging into a smile. Crap, he didn’t answer! Before he can say anything, Podrick’s view is suddenly cut into blocked as if he wasn’t there in the first place. It was an older man from the Westerlands who wears the Lannister armor of crimson and gold to fit the theme of tonight’s celebration.

“We keep bumping into each other, my lady.” He says.

Your smile loses its genuine happiness instantly, pressing to a polite one. You’ve been avoiding this particular knight for a good portion of the evening. He’s asked you for a dance twice already and both times you found an excuse to slip away without accepting or embarrassing him.

“Yes, well, the room is quite small with so many people inside. I’m grateful I’ve avoided any casualties thus far.”

He laughs a little too loudly at your jest, gaining eyes from different directions. You and Pod both obviously lean around the armored body to try and see the other.

“I shall personally see you make it through the affair unscathed,” Ser steps to the side you leaned towards, blocking your view again and smiles while you try not to frown, “Do you have time for a dance just yet?”

“I’m actually in the middle of talking to—“ You again lean around when the knight's hands find your waist and elbow, “Hey!”

“Nonsense, we’re practically in step already.” He tried to give a harsh tug towards the dance floor, his smile curling to a snarl.

“‘S’cuse me, Ser.”

Both you and the soldier whip your head to see Pod hadn’t left. Your relief is palpable but brief as the man holding you doesn’t relent. Podrick’s face was harsh for a change, eyes cold and staring right at the knight.

“M’lady and I weren’t finished with our conversation.”

“My lady, not m’lady,” The man scoffs out a bitter laugh, “Gods, you’ll make a sorry excuse for a knight. And you,” His attention is back on you with far less enthusiasm, “You’d rather be fondled by a squire than dance with me?”

You’re released the moment a claps the older man’s shoulder and yanks him back so hard that, with his heavy armor, you hoped thought he might topple over. Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle the mix of a gasp and laughter that threatens to spill. Your eyes meet Podrick’s but he’s just as surprised as you, like he can’t believe he’d done that.

And worse, more eyes than ever are on you at the scene that was made.

Just as the old knight fumbles to get to his feet, a new voice cuts in quickly, “Lad, why don’t you take your lady friend for a dance. I’ll keep ‘im occupied for you.”

Podrick can’t bring himself to move an inch, not until your hand finds his arm and you gently tug him to the outskirts of the party. It’s there that you two can all but run from King Cunt and his terrible flock of gossips guests.

You brought Pod to the beach, secluded and quiet aside from the crashing waves against the rocky shore. He looked down at his hand and started laughing, then you did too. He was still holding onto the plate of cherry tarts! He took the liberty of offering you the first before taking one for himself, looking away as he calmed his chuckles.

Gods that fucking smile of his was as contagious as greyscale and all the more inviting to catch.

“By the way,” You said after biting into the dessert, “I think you’ll make a great knight.”

“Yeah?” Pod asks all too hopefully. It broke your heart to hear him ask that way, like no one else had ever told him so.

Your reply is earnest, “Of course.” Then it’s not, “Pod The Rod just doesn’t have the same ring as Ser Podrick Payne, does it?”

“Oh gods!” Pod groaned, his cheeks blushing terribly red even under the moonlight, “You heard about that too?”

You didn’t even try to hide your giggles this time, “Only the people living under rocks haven’t heard that! Let’s hope the tale doesn’t make it into any future songs they’ll sing of you.”

“You-You think they’ll sing songs of.. of me?”

You smile brightly, “If they don’t, I’ll compose them myself.”

“Oh,” Pod blinks away his surprised expression, “You’d d-do that?”

“You’ll have my favor at tourneys, too.” You say softly but firmly enough to make his eyes jump from the rocks to meet yours, “If you ever compete, that is.”

“R-Really?”

“Yes, really! Podrick, I fancy you quite a bit and have for quite a while. I would be yours as a knight,” Your hand finds his in the radiant glow of the moon, “Or as you are right now. As long as you’re Podrick Payne, I would like to be yours. Does that sound alright?”

Does it!? Pod holds your hand tighter and lets out a breath of a laugh. Partly in disbelief but mostly in relief. He looks down where he’s interlocked your fingers with his and smiles so big his cheeks hurt. He’s blushing, he knows it but he doesn’t care.

“That sounds... perfect, m’lady.”

In that moment Podrick Payne doesn’t think he could be anymore blessed or lucky or whatever he should call this feeling! He makes a vow that even if he never gets the proper title of a knight, if no one else but you calls him Ser he’ll be satisfied with that. He’ll be strong with a sword to protect you, he’ll be gallant and honorable to do right by you and be a knight in every conceivable way but name.

He feels your lips quickly press against his already rosy cheeks and he thinks he died and went to one of the seven heavens awaiting him.

“Don’t faint on me now, Payne!” You laugh and tug on his hand, “You still owe me that walk.”

#x reader #game of thrones imagine #imagine #game of thrones #writeblr #podrick payne imagine #podrick imagine #podrick payne #podrick payne x reader #poiboidrabbles

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