#(and I still don't have the ones i want. finding pictures is SO HARD lol) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

froggibus · 2 months

Note

hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P

CTRL + H - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage

CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??

hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol

As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.

When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react.

You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first.

There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth.

“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can.

It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is.

He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”

You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops.

“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”

He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away.

The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into.

His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.

“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”

The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding.

You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him.

“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”

His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

“W—what did you say?”

“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.”

You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize.

Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’.

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head.

Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts.

You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination.

“You can relax.” Dick hums.

You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on.

“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.”

You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”

There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place.

“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?”

Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it.

He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”

In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more.

He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.

You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.

Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!”

His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.

You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.

“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”

The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.

When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.

“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”

Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh.

His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are.

You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.

You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.

He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here?

You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.

He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before.

“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”

You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly.

“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow.

You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly.

It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours.

You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs.

A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth.

The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips.

“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need.

“Back at you.”

His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.

While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand.

You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.

Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.

“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”

His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.

He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.

His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.

Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.

You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.

“You have to use your words.”

You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”

“Good girl.”

Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.

He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.

You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.

“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.

He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”

“S-so good.”

He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.

The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing.

Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”

His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.

Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.

“Feel good?” He prompts.

You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.

He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”

You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh.

“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking.

He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.

Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.

He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.

Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.

“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”

You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.

Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts.

He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.

Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.

He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”

You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.

You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.

You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.

He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.

You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.

“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”

His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.

“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”

Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.

He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.

You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you.

Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.

It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”

You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.

When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”

“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”

masterlist | dc masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog i get ^^

#dick Grayson #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson smut #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing smut #x reader #x you #batfam x reader #👽 anon #alien anon #froggi after dark #froggi requests

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pomefioredove · 3 months

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if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #queued

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dinogoofymutated · 5 months

Note

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

“Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

“Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage, licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

“You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit.

“Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

“I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

��Logan! We were just-”

“Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

“I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

“Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

#I do have to say he was definitely about to lift reader back up and eat them out till the cows came home before Logan interrupted #x men comics #x men #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #x men 97 #beast #beast x men #x men beast x reader #x men beast #x men beast headcannons #x men beast smut #hank mccoy #x men hank mccoy #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy headcannons #hank mccoy smut #wolverine and the x men

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eskumii · 1 year

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yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere-bnha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere hcs #incel shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader

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walpu · 7 months

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A thought, Aventurine thinking that he's the dom in the relationship and then reader pulls out uno reverse, kabedoning him against a wall with their leg

"Get dommed lmfao" - [Y/n]

LMAO okay this is funny

I'm sorry this post is a but shorter than my other ones, I've been super busy for the past few days and didn't have much time to write 😭

Aventurine trying (and failing) to be a dom

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, sub!Aven, nsfw-y

I really can't picture Aven as a hard dom but I think that in some scenarios he would feel more comfortable if he considers himself to be the one in control.

Like if you two just started dating and maybe you didn't know each other for a long period of time before that.

Or if you had some sort of rivalry before you became a couple.

He'll try to show you that you're his, constantly reminding you this by... clinging to you and whining if he doesn't get enough of your attention.

And, well, by throwing some flirty and smug remarks here in there. In a way, it's another way to keep his mask on.

He would, however, be able to be a proper dom in the bed. Ordering you around, teasing your body, enjoying your ruined look, knowing that you're his his his. Even if sometimes he wants to be the one ruined by you.

He reeeeeally doesn't want to admit to himself how much he actually wants it.

However. However. The key prase here is "would be able to be a proper dom"

Is it possible? Yeah. Would this ever happen? No lol.

The moment he tries to pull something like this he finds himself pressed to a wall with you blocking his way with your leg.

"Don't tell me you thought you were in charge, pretty boy" you say with a chuckle and he goes weak in his knees.

Tries to say something cheeky in return but he was never good at hiding something from you. You can literally see him being a mess.

It would probably be easier fir him if you would use your hand to block his way. He'd tease you and call you bossy, pulling you for a kiss. But with your leg??? It catches him off guard so much that, to his own embarrassment, he can't even find a comeback.

And the way he looks???

Slightly flushed cheeks, irregular breath, him suddenly clinging to you without even realizing it. Absolutely beautiful.

It's still not easy for him to be in a vulnerable position like that but he just can't help, the temptation of feeling yours yours yours is just too overwhelming.

Would act ten times more bratty after that just to push your buttons and make you put him on his place again.

#aventurine #Hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #reader insert #walp's writing #maybe I'll make a second part later I really feel like I could've give more justice to this request once again im sorry

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sebscore · 1 year

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Hiii!!! I’m hoping that you can write a request for me! Gzd and other drivers during a red flag. She’d be like drinking some juice, inspecting cars with seb, trying to get the audience to do a wave with Daniel. Sitting in a corner and enjoying ice cream with Kimi, you get the gist!

You writing is always so comforting and fun to read! {if you aren’t down to write this request then please ignore this one! No hard feelings haha}

SLOW DOWN, RED FLAG

pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: sleeping? lol.

author's note: I FINALLY GOT TO THIS ONE!!! also sprinkled some webber + button content in there cause why not x

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''The race still hasn't restarted so let's see what our drivers are up to.'' Martin's voice spoke over the commentary, informing the viewers of the current situation.

The screen cut to Mick and Sebastian playing football in one of the empty hallways, keeping themselves energised for the race. ''Young Schumacher and Vettel playing some ball, trying to maintain their energy and not slump.''

''And here we have Charles Leclerc, the Monégasque writing some things down in his journal- a habit he picked up from his former teammate, Sebastian Vettel.'' Ted observed, describing how the young man scribbled some things down in the Ferrari garage.

''Let's see what Y/N Y/L is up to. I'm sure the young woman is doing her best to keep herself high- is she sleeping?'' Martin interrupted himself, watching the screen with an open mouth as it cut to the driver laying on the floor in her garage while her team worked around her sleeping form.

''Well, all the drivers have different ways of keeping their energy up.'' Ted chuckled, finding amusement in the woman's antics once again.

Both men took a closer look at the screen as the camera kept lingering on her garage and what was happening inside of it. ''Is… is she sleeping- oh my goodness, her blanket has Kimi Raikkonen's face on it.''

As the screen zoomed out, the viewers could see the driver having a blanket draped over her- one that had a picture of a sleeping Kimi on it.

''She keeps surprising me that one.'' Mark Webber joined in, laughing at the image of the young woman. ''I love the fact that her team just ignores it and works around her.'' He noted.

''Yeah, this is probably not the first time this has happened.'' Martin said, coming to that conclusion because of the way the mechanics and others don't seem bothered by it.

''This is a message for the crew that will be interviewing Miss Y/L later; Please ask her about this!'' Ted pleaded over the commentary, asking his colleagues that will be conducting the interviews to question the driver about her 'red flag habit'.

''Now, Y/N- we were specifically told to ask you this by Ted Kravitz himself.'' Jenson started off, making her hesitantly nod her head.

''Why were you sleeping during the red flag?''

''Oh,'' she laughed in relief, having expected a more controversial question that would have her press officer shit themselves, ''I was bored so I slept.''

''Aren't you supposed to keep yourself pumped for the race?'' Nathalie asked, a frown on her face.

Y/N nodded. ''Yes and that's my way of doing that.'' She grinned. ''Please don't judge me.'' She quickly added upon seeing the confused expression everyone was wearing.

''We're not! Don't worry, dear.'' Nathalie assured her, momentarily caressing her arm.

''Is it something you do often, because your team seemed to be very nonchalant about it- especially your mechanics, since they were working on your car.'' Jenson asked, genuinely curious about the matter.

The young driver pouted her lips in thought. ''Uh, I don't want to say it's a regular thing that I do, but I'm also not gonna say that it hasn't happened before.''

''Alright, and the Kimi blanket?''

''I got that for my birthday a few years ago, it's very cute, isn't it?'' She smiled from ear-to-ear, proud of her blanket of the World Champion.

The reporters nodded, endeared by her authentic excitement. ''Has he seen it?''

''He has! I showed him a picture of it when I first got it and he smiled so I think he was a big fan of it.'' She answered, with the same smile on her face.

''He didn't say anything?''

''Kimi asked where I got it from, but I didn't know the answer so that was the end of our conversation.'' She chuckled.

Jenson laughed at her response. ''That's more than I ever got out of him.''

another author’s note lol: I have decided to get rid of my taglist since it was becoming unorganized and I can only tag an x-amount of people per post + I’m not a fan of reblogging my own work.

#f1 fics #f1 fic #f1 x reader #jenson button x oc #jenson button x reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 oc #female f1 driver #f1 x female driver

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withleeknow · 3 months

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wishful thinking. (07)

chapter seven: built to break

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; the gorlies are fighting...?, not much for warnings in this chapter ig word count: 4.3k note: i finally got off my ass and wt is finally back lol. i had a last minute change of plans and thought "oh! you know what would be pretty neat? if we prolong the angst so everyone can be sad for longer!" <3 and this is how i announce that the next chapter is not wt8 but wt7.5 and it's written from his pov <3 merry christmas

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

I’ll hold my breath as I wait for your answer I’ll leave it up to you Tell me whether it’s yes or no Baby, love me or leave me tonight

Love Me or Leave Me - Day6

The warning signs, they're there. You can see them before they materialize. You know your own tells.

Your metaphorical bags are packed, your shoes are already on. You're about to run again, leave a half empty house before it has the chance to become a home. No one has to tell you that you're a flight risk; you're well aware of it yourself.

Wednesday Min: got plans tonight? You: booked and busy with ze old canvas Min: tomorrow? You: same thing probably. sorry Min: u're working hard lately You: yeah this one is just driving me crazy and i need it to turn out decent Min: it'll be perfect. it's u

Thursday Min: running errands at the store Min: want me to bring u anything? that caramel popcorn u like?

Friday Min: don't work too hard. remember to eat

That was three days ago, the last time you'd heard from him after you left him on read. It wasn't a complete lie; this project is driving you kinda crazy and you do need it to end up a decent piece, but you weren't exactly holed up in your apartment to slave over your painting. And you suppose Minho didn't find it all that suspicious because you tend to do this sometimes - disappear for a couple of days and force yourself to focus whenever you had a project to finish, before you come back to everybody again. You've come back to him before; it stands to reason that you'll do it again.

It's been about two weeks since you'd seen him, though the memories of that evening are still fresh in your mind - the evening of the group dinner, when he'd kissed you goodnight and left for his parents' house the following day. True to his words, he did send you pictures of the cats - ones of Soonie wearing a matching hoodie with him, a few of Doongie and Dori napping at the foot of his bed. There was an accompanying text - The kids miss you - along with a frowning emoji, and it made you wonder if what he really meant was I miss you.

You wanted him to miss you, because you missed him too.

The photos brought a smile to your face despite the predicament you found yourself in. A smile that was short lived, a smile that was soon wiped off when you realized your heart shouldn't be swelling with that much affection for him. It shouldn't, but the truth was that it did and you don't know how to live with it.

Love isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

It's beautiful yet full of thorns, and your hands are too clumsy to ever keep it from slipping from your fingers.

You remember when you first met Minho. Freshman year, at some popular senior's house party.

It feels like forever ago when you were just an awkward freshman at orientation who didn't have a single clue on how to make friends. Jess was your first friend in college, and you'll always be grateful that you got along well enough that she adopted you into the group with the rest of the guys.

You didn't cross paths with Minho until you were already acquainted with everyone else. On the night of the party, you remember being enamored with him for those couple of hours, and it wasn't the side effect of too many solo cups of cheap beer. Who in their right mind wouldn't be infatuated with him? He was beautiful, absolutely alluring, and you would always tell him as much.

Back then, he had brown hair, slighter shorter than now but it was tinted with the most gorgeous shade of red. You didn't know much about Minho, only been told that he was pretty quiet and might be off-putting to new people. It was sort of true; that night, you were intimidated by the aura he exuded. Mysterious, couldn't be bothered, didn't seem to give a shit. He looked like a scary little thing, while you were the new kid who was only trying to observe everyone's dynamics, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundary.

To this day, you're still not sure what really happened, how you two immediately clicked and he's been one of the most important parts of your life ever since.

Maybe it was just him. Maybe it's always been him.

Minho, the one who makes you smile when all you want to do is curl up and cry. The one who makes you laugh when you look for joy but the search comes up empty. The one who grounds you every time you lose your way. Your anchor, the safe harbor you can always return to. The light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

You don't know where you stand, don't know where it goes from here now that everything is changing. He told you so himself, that nothing changed for him, but how could he possibly know that everything is changing for you? And it infuriates you to no end because you don't even have anyone to talk about this with. You're the only person whose world is being turned upside down after all.

You can't tell your friends because they can't know about you and Minho. You can't tell Minho because what would you even say? That you think you're in love with him? That the implications of what it means are devastating to you?

For the first time, you regret everything. Kissing him that night, sleeping with him, becoming whatever this is with him. Letting down your guard and falling for him somewhere along the way and you didn't even stop to notice it. You regret all of the decisions you've made up until now, because they've only led you to the point of no return, the point of losing him. You made bad decision after bad decision after bad decision, until you couldn't anymore. All along, there's been no one else to blame but you.

Maybe it hasn't happened yet, but it's inevitable. You will lose him. You are going to lose him.

There's no other ending, no other alternative that you can imagine. You're going to leave because you're a coward and it's what you do best. You ruin things before they get a chance to hurt you. You leave because if you don't leave then you'll be left behind, and you'd rather not bear the brunt of it.

Now, when you think of Minho, the thought is always accompanied by a painful reminder - Nothing changed for him.

When you get to the cafe, Hyunjin and Seungmin are already seated in a corner booth, three drinks in front of them, one of which they'd ordered for you before you arrived.

You slide into the seat next to Hyunjin, smiling at him appreciatively for the drink. There's still over half an hour before you have to walk to your shared class, over half an hour before Seungmin parts ways with you two to do whatever or whoever it is that Seungmin does on his off days.

"I still think it's Nara," Hyunjin says, casually sipping his iced coffee.

"Nara from your Lit class last semester?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I saw them talking at a party once."

"Okay. And?"

"And what? That's it."

"That's... all the evidence you have to back up your claim?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You wave your hands in front of them. "What are you bozos talking about?"

"He’s still trying to figure out who Minho is hooking up with," Seungmin is the one who answers you without missing a beat, then he turns back to Hyunjin. "Anyway, it can't be Nara. She's dating Jaehyun on the basketball team."

The friend next to you flails his arms like a petulant child, like he couldn't have possibly seen this coming, like he was so sure that he had finally solved the mystery. "Great. I'm back to square one again."

You straighten your back and reach for your drink, tentatively gulping down the beverage as if it'll hide the fact that you've gone stiff the second this topic is brought up. You feel bad about it, sure. These are your friends that you're lying to after all. They don't have to look anywhere far; the answer to the secret is right in front of them.

"We're still on about that?" you ask in the calmest, most nonchalant voice you can muster. You usually consider yourself a believable liar (which, to be honest, isn't really a flex at all), but whenever someone mentions this little arrangement between you and Minho that shouldn't be common knowledge for anyone else, you feel like you're been put under a spotlight for the whole world to scrutinize.

"Duh," Hyunjin says. "You know, I'm kinda surprised that you don't know. You two are like, attached at the hip sometimes."

You give him a thoughtless shrug, your hands fiddling with the sticker on the plastic cup as you avoid looking at either of your friends. "Maybe he just wants to keep private things private, y'know? You wouldn't like either if all of us is suddenly all up in your business. And besides, what if it's just casual?"

Hyunjin scoffs. "Please, I'm an open book. I tell you guys everything. I tell you every time I hook up with someone."

"Yeah, but you see, literally no one needs to know that," Seungmin says.

The taller one only scoffs, waving his hands around dismissively in Seungmin's direction before he turns to you. "If it was just casual, would he save her name as - oh my God, I forgot what her contact name is. Freaking bird person or something."

You make a face. "What?"

"Dude, seriously?" Seungmin rolls his eyes. "You forgot one word? Dove? What is the matter with you?"

Perhaps it's the half-hearted teasing judgment in Seungmin's voice that makes Hyunjin take offense and drop the topic. The conversation veers off course when they start bickering like children in the busy cafe. You suppose it works in your favor, but you can't focus. You drown it all out.

Your hand is still on the cup but the sticker has been left alone and forgotten, half peeled off, half still clinging to the plastic underneath the condensation.

The single word repeats itself in your mind, over and over and over again.

The entire time you're in class, you don't really focus on anything. You can't bring yourself to listen to whatever your professor is saying, not after what Hyunjin and Seungmin told you earlier. At some point, your friend has to nudge your shoulder to bring you back down to earth when usually, you're the one who has to remind Hyunjin to pay attention. Class ends soon enough though; time tends to fly by when your mind is lost elsewhere.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asks with his bag slung over his shoulder, slowing down his steps to match your speed as you walk out of the lecture hall together.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just tired."

"You wanna grab dinner with me and Felix?"

Any other day, you would've agreed in a heartbeat. But today, you want to be alone. Sometimes, you'd rather wallow in your own misery than settle for a temporary distraction.

You're still stuck on the conversation from earlier, on the small detail that Hyunjin and Seungmin had let slip in the cafe.

Dove.

His dove.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's only a nickname that he's assigned to you out of mere platonic fondness, but it makes you conscious about the dove on your own wrist nonetheless, the one that you feel compelled to hide from your friends underneath your long sleeve.

"No, it's okay," you tell Hyunjin. "I'll just go home and sleep it off."

"Okay. I can walk you for a bit," he says. "Just wait with me here. Minho's coming to give me back something he borrowed."

"Minho's coming?" you ask too quickly for it to sound casual. There's a panicked edge that you can hear in your own voice, though you don't think Hyunjin picks it up as he unlocks his phone and types something on the screen.

"Yeah, he was at the library. He's coming over right now, should only be a couple minutes. Then I'll walk back with you."

You shift on your feet uneasily, but you cover it up by rubbing your hands on your arms to pretend like you're just cold. There's no excuse that you could think of that would justify why you can't stand here with Hyunjin for just two more minutes, without giving it away the fact that you're avoiding Minho.

You take in a quiet breath, put on your best brave face. Casual, nonchalant. It's just Minho. Just Minho...

He comes up from behind, where you can't see him. A warm hand gently lands on your shoulder, and it takes everything not to shy away from his touch. It takes even more not to lean into his side.

You've missed it. You've missed him.

"Hey." He smiles at you while Hyunjin only gets a nod in acknowledgment.

"Hey." You return the smile, though you're sure you look a little rigid. You can tell there's an inkling of confusion in his eyes when he senses that your energy is off, but you're thankful he doesn't comment on it, at least not in front of Hyunjin anyway.

You don't notice the paper bag in his other hand until he hands it to your other friend with a simple Thanks, to which Hyunjin just nods along in a silent You're welcome.

"I was going to walk with Y/N for a bit and then meet Felix for food," he tells Minho. "You wanna get burgers with me and Lix?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry, I had a late lunch. I'll take the walk though."

You didn't plan on being alone with Minho today, even though you knew you had to talk to him eventually. You just thought you had a little more time, at least until you got your shit together and face him with a brave façade.

Minho's hand brushes yours the entire time you walk, and it's nothing if not confusing. It's unbearable, the way your fingers twitch with the urge to intertwine them with his.

It persists even after Hyunjin has waved you goodbye to you two and turned to head wherever he and Felix agreed to meet. You think Minho would hold your hand now that it's just you and him, but he doesn't. He lets your skin continue to brush, lets you suffer alone and wanting in your sunken disappointment.

It has very little to do with him and everything to do with you, the conflicting thoughts inside your head piling up one by one the more time you spend in his presence.

Dove, the brief display of jealousy at Yeonjun's party, the way he looks at you sometimes that you can't really decipher the meaning behind, how he kisses you so tenderly that it can't possibly be strictly platonic. You want these things to all mean something, and yet...

You want him to hold your hand, but you know you'd wave it off if he tries to reach for your fingers. You want him to stop you right then and there to kiss you breathless, just as he had that night two weeks ago, even though you're sure you'd only dodge his lips and push him away. You want to stay, you want to leave. You're terrified of things changing, but you wish that something, anything, would be different for him; that you aren't the only one who's spinning out of control. You love him, but you wish you didn't.

Eventually, Minho asks, "You okay?"

It's not until now that you realize this is the first time you've ever been this quiet around him. You purse your lips, glancing down briefly at your feet as you keep on treading the rest of the way home. "Yeah, all good. I'm just tired," you tell him, visibly unenthusiastic despite the smile you try to fake. "I just need to sleep it off."

"The project stressing you out?"

"I guess, yeah."

"And here I thought maybe you were avoiding me," he says, half a joke, half inquisitive. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Were you avoiding me?"

You give him a weird look, one that's meant to be dismissive and call his question ridiculous even though you know you've been caught. And maybe it's the over-the-top glance that you throw his way and the way your pitch goes higher when you reply, "Why would I be avoiding you?" that makes him stop walking.

On the other side of the street, there's a couple of kids in high school uniforms, exchanging shy glances and sharing fond giggles.

Minho calls your name softly, and it's like you're just waiting for the ball to drop. You don't want to turn back and look at him, but what other option do you have? What else is there to do?

You can't decipher the expression on his face. He's still calm, but the air has turned serious, the silence of the mostly empty streets surrounding you only serves as the soundtrack of your impending heartbreak. The tender and innocent laughter fades away when young love moves further and further from where you stand. "What?" you ask with faux nonchalance as you look at him, another attempt at stalling. Biding your time even though a few more minutes aren't going to do any good for your case.

Anyone with half a braincell could tell that clearly it's not the truth, let alone someone who has learned to read you better than the back of his hand. He doesn't look like he believes you, though he doesn't push it, much to your surprise.

"Okay," he says after a moment of studying you, and this should be the part where you heave a sigh of relief because he's letting you off the hook for now, but your chest doesn't feel lighter at all. Your head is clouded with dread, with the anticipation that you're only delaying the inevitable.

You walk the rest of the way in awful silence, because you know that he knows something is wrong. You try your best to appear composed, but he sees right through you. You know he does.

You must look like a frightened animal, one that's about to take off running any second now.

When you reach your building, Minho is quick to keep you with him before you can make up a lame excuse and bolt.

"Hey," he starts, his voice so impossibly gentle that it hurts. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Heavier and heavier, it weighs you down until you feel like your chest is going to collapse. The nerves gnaw on you, clawing into you until you feel your heartbeat quicken, the overwhelming dread simmering low in your belly.

"I know," you say, but deep down, what you're really thinking is, Not this. This is the one thing I can't tell you.

"Is everything okay?"

It's the way that Minho's got his gaze set on you with those deep brown irises, the concern so apparent in them that it hurts you. It's the way he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you - a comforting hand on your shoulder or your back like you're so familiar with - but he has to hold himself back or you might slip away.

It's him, how he always puts you first, how he cares about you in ways that you've never been cared about before. He understands you, he sees you. It feels like it could be love if you let the lines blur just enough.

Is love supposed to hurt? Like this?

Maybe it's not that you don't know how to hold love. Maybe it's because you're not meant to hold it at all. Insignificant, unlovable.

And... it's the reminder that cuts through the dread like the sharpest knife.

You leave his question unanswered, because nothing is okay and you can't tell him any of it. You can't lie to him either, because it's the last thing that you want to do to him.

Instead, you ask, "We're good... right? We're okay?"

"What do you mean?"

You gesture between the two of you, though you're not sure what that's supposed to signify. "Just...," you trail off for a second, hesitant. "Nothing's changed, right?"

Minho doesn't answer right away. He looks at you for a moment, searching for something in your eyes that you can't tell if he's able to find.

He nods, seemingly wistful as he says, "Nothing's changed."

He seems unsure about it, at least more than he was just a few weeks ago when he told you the same thing in your apartment with his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The tug between his brows - though barely noticeable - tells you as much.

Is it because something is different now? Or does he only sound uncertain out of concern, because of you and how you're acting?

Then he continues, "For me, at least."

And there it is.

It's the confirmation this time around that turns you inside out so his simple words could cut into you.

You swallow thickly, put on a smile like you're pleased with his answer even though you're trying your hardest to stop yourself from shaking. Whatever energy you had left is instantly drained from you just because of a few words.

Your sentences get smashed together, tangled up like barbed wire and they only make you bleed when you try to pull them apart. All your nervous tics coming out to play despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. A frustrated hand running through your hair, gripping at the roots a little harshly. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and your eyes turning glassy for a split second before you blink the moisture away, because you can't let Minho see you like this. See you trying to keep your pathetic heart intact while he's none the wiser.

He's fine. And unlike you, he's going to be okay when this is over.

Unavoidable and inevitable, the end will come whether you like it or not. You're the only one who won't make it out unscathed, and it will only shatter you into more pieces the longer you drag this out.

Just rip the bandaid off. Salvage whatever you can. Stop digging the grave even deeper for yourself.

One second, then two, then three. You don't speak until you have enough faith that your voice is even enough to carry out a few sentences.

"Okay, uhm... I think I need some time for myself. We should..." But it isn't, and you crack halfway through. The sound is deafening to your own ears. "We should take a break. We should stop this."

Minho doesn't question if you mean the secret between the two of you, or your friendship entirely. Instead, he asks, "Why?"

"I told you." You clear your throat. "I need time for myself."

You can't tell what he's thinking, but the knife twists inside of you nonetheless.

He takes a step closer, you take a step back.

You watch as his face falls, and the same feeling mirrors itself within the confines of your ribcage. Your heart drops at the sight of his eyes, deep brown irises stained with a little confusion, then a little hurt though it lasts for only a few seconds. The slight slump of his shoulders, the absence of the familiar playfulness he always sports when he's with you.

He blinks.

"Time for yourself, or time away from me?"

You say nothing.

You don't address his question directly, and your reluctance to do so is a loud enough answer in and of itself. "Why does that matter? What's the difference?"

"It matters if I did something to upset you."

"You didn't."

"Okay. So?"

This is confusing, because he's not letting you rip the bandaid clean off and you don't know why. "Nothing's changed, right? If it didn't mean anything to you, why can't you just drop this?"

Minho is quiet for a beat. His eyes are searching again, but this time, you think he finds something.

Everything is still and you hate it - the silence of the streets, the scrutinizing orange glow of the streetlights as if they're watching the scene unfold, even the innocent cat that's sitting by itself on the balcony on one of the floors higher up. You hate all of it.

"I never said it didn't mean anything," he tells you.

It makes you a little angry for some reason, and there's enough red to cloud your vision because his words are contradicting and you're tired, you're so exhausted that you can't focus on what it is that he's really saying.

"So you lied to me?"

"I've never lied to you."

"I asked you before and you said nothing's changed. Now you're saying whatever this is didn't not mean anything. Make up your mind."

It gets redder when he keeps his eyes fixed on you, still so calm despite the frown that has returned to its place between his brows. Still so collected, while you're being pulled apart at the seams.

The ball doesn't drop the way you expect it to. It keeps falling so insufferably slowly, hanging over you like it's mocking you for being stupid, like it's milking every second of suspense to make you implode.

Until Minho speaks next and suddenly, it feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. His voice, still so soft and tender. His eyes, reading something in yours that you can't bear to admit out loud.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

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vidavalor · 1 year

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The Blitz, Part 3 Theory: The clues that suggest what it might be about & how it's affected what's come after it

I rewatched 2.04/The Blitz, Part 2 last night and a moment stood out to me that made me think I have an idea of what might happen in the flashback we all seem to have collectively agreed is almost certainly in S3-- The Blitz, Part 3.

When Crowley & Aziraphale are in the magic shop and Glozier is there in the background, the camera jumps to a pretty significant reaction shot for Glozier when Aziraphale tells Crowley that he has a Derringer hidden in a hollowed-out book in the bookshop. I think everyone sees that bit as important-- it's a literal Chekhov's gun sitting out there for the future story, after all-- but I was thinking about why it matters that one of the Zombie Nazis overheard this when they're... ya know... zombies. Their methods of murder tend to be a little more direct, yeah? lol What do they need a gun for when they eat people to death? But then it hit me why it will matter that Glozier heard this... it's not about the Zombie Nazis, exactly. It's about Furfur.

When we leave Furfur in 1941, he's just been embarrassed in front of The Dark Council by Aziraphale, who has swapped out the picture of him and Crowley for a flyer for the Ladies of Camelot, right? They literally laugh in Furfur's face. Furfur's entire plot in 1941 is about how he's been stuck in processing for millennia and he's trying to get out of it-- about how he's jealous of Crowley and the few others who get to go to Earth. He's dealt slight after slight after slight during this night in 1941. He fails to get proof against Crowley, who doesn't even remember him. He gets shamed and embarrassed in front of the higher-ups and his peers. His fledging... whatever it is exactly lol... with Shax-- who is the closest thing he has to a friend-- is damaged as she's gone out on a limb for him and he hasn't delivered. Most terrible, he's sure he's never going to get out of his miserable eternity of grunt work. He's *very, very, very* unhappy and boxed into a corner, right? So what does Furfur want, now that he's stuck in Hell forever and all of it is laughing at him?

Revenge. He wants revenge.

In the short term, he also wants someone to scream at, so he goes back up to Earth and finds the Zombie Nazis, who are roaming around London eating people. They can't go very quickly so they haven't gotten far and aren't hard to find lol. Furfur knows it's not exactly their fault that he was tricked by the angel as, technically, they completed the tasks they were given, but he's furious and he needs to vent it, so he starts yelling that he's going to revoke their zombie-life-on-earth clauses. (Even *the Nazi zombies* get to be on Earth and Furfur does not? Yeah, he's not going to be able to handle that...)

The Zombie Nazis, understandably after seeing that video he showed them in Part 2, start freaking out because they don't want that whole fly fate for all of eternity and they don't know how to reach anyone beyond Furfur so they'll do anything to keep Furfur from taking out his humiliation on them. Upon hearing that this is all about how Aziraphale tricked Furfur and got him humiliated by Hell, the Zombie Nazis start desperately suggesting that it's not too late! They can help Furfur still get Crowley and Aziraphale! Even if Hell thinks Furfur is a joke and won't listen to him about the angel and demon being involved, they can still help Furfur get revenge!

They bring Furfur to outside the bookshop to find Crowley and Aziraphale because that's where the Zombie Nazis say they saw them together earlier & they know Aziraphale lives there. Furfur's in a rage because through a side window, he's observing Crowley and Aziraphale drinking wine together by candlelight in what is the "I know you'd come through for me" scene from Part 2-- and Aziraphale even has the photo Furfur took of them earlier in his hand. (Insert here more of the recurring gag about Harmony lip-reading as now he's also looking through the window and probably gets a line like "he is saying it again! 'banana fish go-RILL-ah...'").

So Furfur is in a fur-furious rage here and is ready to murder these two but... there's just one *slight* problem...

He's a demon.

He can't get into the bookshop.

Aziraphale would have to invite him in and he's certainly not going to after their meeting earlier. But! This is when Furfur and the Nazis realize that there is someone in their group who *can* get in the bookshop...

....our fave fascist, Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt.

As "Rose", Greta recruited Aziraphale-- entering his bookshop when she was a human, invited in by Aziraphale. She can still get into the bookshop. (It's also a parallel to Shax tricking Aziraphale into letting her into The Bentley in S2.)

Once Furfur and the Nazis realize this, the question then becomes: okay, so if Greta can get into the shop, how is she then going to kill Aziraphale and Crowley? (*Especially* Aziraphale, whom Furfur really, really, really loathes at this point lol.)

This is when we go back to the scene that triggered this meta, which is that this is when Glozier then volunteers the information he overheard in the magic shop-- that there's a Chekhov's gun in the bookshop.

The Derringer works as a weapon here to do that because, as Furfur himself pointed out during the magic show earlier, if Crowley had shot Aziraphale in the face, it wouldn't just be paperwork but it might not be possible for them to "put him back together again"-- indicating that there are some things that can happen to angels and demons that are irreversible and can effectively kill them, more or less-- and a gunshot to the head is one of them.

(I'm also realizing as I'm writing this that that Glozier's *ear* falling off in the magic shop is another nod to him having *heard* important information and so far, we've only seen half of what he heard pay off-- the time and location of Aziraphale's performance in the West End. We're still awaiting pay off of the gun bit.)

My bet is that Aziraphale's Derringer in a hollowed out book is something he actually *showed "Rose" like the cinnamon roll idiot that he is* lol... so once Glozier brings it up, Greta remembers and she knows what book it's in and exactly where it is in the shop.

So Furfur still cannot get in but Greta can get in... which means Greta is now the most powerful character here. If Furfur wants Aziraphale dead, Greta can make that happen... *if* they cut a deal. What kind of deal? Well, the only thing Greta is going to want that she thinks that Furfur could give her is to not be a zombie, right? To be alive again? Reverse the clause in the paperwork and give her her life back. Whether or not Furfur can actually do this (and I'm not sure if he can or not, really, but I'd wager probably not), Furfur tells Greta that he can and she and the other Nazis believe him.

The plan is that the four of them go to the bookshop, where Furfur activates a miracle blocker card for a few hours surrounding the shop in an effort to limit Crowley and Aziraphale's powers and give the Zombie Nazis the advantage. Once the miracle blocker is in place, Greta goes inside while Harmony and Glozier make noise outside, in an effort to separate Crowley and Aziraphale to make it easier to kill them by attempting to lure one of them outside. Greta is to kill the one that stays inside the bookshop while Harmony and Glozier are supposed to kill the one that goes outside. (This will not happen according to plan at all, whatsoever, but it does seem like the most likely plan these four characters could form where they all have a role in it.)

So because Greta is the only one who can get inside, she has go to into the bookshop and be the one who can kill, most likely in their mind, Aziraphale. She'll still be a staggering zombie when the extremely bright Furfur sends her in there to obtain and fire a gun at a pair of supernatural beings lol but she manages to sneak in the back door without Crowley and Aziraphale really hearing the breaking & entering... or whatever noises the other two are making outside... as Crowley and Aziraphale are a little busy gazing at one another.

It would actually be a really funny, very Good Omens-y gag IMHO, if Greta is colossally unsubtle in entering the other side of the shop from where Crowley & Aziraphale are and is banging into stuff while Harmony and Glozier keep coming up with more and more insane noises outside... but Crowley and Aziraphale are too busy making heart eyes at one another to care or do anything about it. A very "did you... hear that?"/"oh, must be the war, let's go back to gazing" type of attitude with a steadily increasing series of sounds that are harder and harder to dismiss but they are trying, ok? lol. (This would also parallel Aziraphale ignoring the demons outside for as long as he could during The Ball in S2, until the bookshop begins literally breaking around them.)

So while we watch scenes of Furfur and The Zombie Nazis Hatch A Plot, the relationship tension between Crowley & Aziraphale is building as much as the plot tension. They intercut Furfur & the Nazis scenes with Crowley & Aziraphale having quiet, romantic, candlelit glasses of wine after their very intense and illuminating evening together. Each time we go back to Crowley & Aziraphale... they seem to be getting increasingly cozier. They sit a little closer, they get a little looser around one another. Crowley's glasses might come off. We get the sense that this is all Going Somewhere and it's somewhere they've never let themselves go before but after the events of Blitz 1 & 2 tonight? It's becoming increasingly clear to them that they will. There's virtual certainty that if *nothing else happens* to these two tonight and they're just left alone for once, they're at least going to kiss and what we're watching is them slowly enjoying the path there and them enjoying silently knowing that they're going to.

At some point, we hop from the Nazis back over to Aziraphale asking Crowley if he'd like a little music... Aziraphale might even have something *modern* kicking around, he's excited to tell Crowley (like he might have been totally not at all fantasizing about this exact Crowley-dashing-in-his-suit-with-a-glass-of-wine-smoldering-in-the-bookshop scenario when he bought this record from Maggie's grandfather recently lol)... and he goes over to the gramophone to put it on and now we've got Crowley and Aziraphale with candlelight and wine and music and they're each just taking step after slow little step that slowly acknowledges the romance at play here. Aziraphale's record is probably Glenn Miller. We know he likes big band and The Bentley played him "Moonlight Serenade" in S2 and Glenn Miller also recorded "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", so it's one record where "Moonlight" could play and then, eventually, so too could "Nightingale" without Aziraphale getting up and moving away from Crowley... and you better believe that when we get to "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" playing that Crowley and Aziraphale are a literal breath away from kissing.

It'd be completely perfect to them, right? Very romantic. They're there together, alone, they've survived the Nazis and Mrs. H and threats of Hell and have spent the night gazing at one another and now they're here and it's quiet and there's candlelight and it's the familiar, comforting bookshop that is home for both of them... the same place, ironically, that they will drink wine together and make eyes at one another *for decades* after this night-- without Aziraphale putting on The Song, of course-- and you know they will think about 1941 every. single. time. while never actually recreating it.

(It's also why, when they're both wasted in the bookshop in S1's "Eleven Years Ago", Crowley is rambling on about bananas and gorillas and bouillabaisse/fish stew-- ya know, "banana fish gorilla..."-- and they're both so drunk and thinking about how they're almost out of time... and so they're both thinking of 1941 and wind up making those hilarious kissy faces at one another because they both obviously still want to actually kiss some 80 years after the night they almost did. Crowley also calls Aziraphale "baby" in the middle of his ramble. He might have called Aziraphale that in 1941, when they weren't drunk and were on their way to kissing. He also might have just wanted to, so it turned up in "Eleven Years Later" and might come up again later on in the present of S3, whenever they inevitably get to finally have a decent, uninterrupted, not painful kiss.)

Back in 1941, as we flip between Furfur/The Nazis and our heroes, maybe Crowley's even gotten comfortable enough to lose the glasses (though he can leave them on if he still has the hat on when they go to kiss so that he can take the hat off like a gentleman to kiss Aziraphale *swoon* and actually that's how Aziraphale died everyone surprise twist he's been dead since 1941 an a ghost this whole time lol)... and there's romantic big band on the record player and there was magic in the air and angels were dining at the Ritz when a nightingale sang in Bahhhrrrrk. Leeeeee. Square... and they're *almost* there, right? They're basically kissing. There is no way for either of them to ever legitimately pretend that was not was going to happen (even if they will try in the future lol) as their lips were a millimeter away and both of them want it and just like this and it's been six thousand years of pining and so, of course, that is when...

...Greta zombie-crashes into the room with Aziraphale's once-hidden Derringer aimed at them.

(Aziraphale's probably furiously muttering "oh good Lord" under his breath with a very different tone than in 1793 lol. That is his attitude, at least, if not the dialogue.)

So then they have to try to protect one another right and it's mild chaos for a moment as like Crowley starts looking out the window at Furfur and the rest of the Zombie Nazi Trio (paralleling his demons-outside-the-bookshop paranoia in S2) and realizes they were the noise while Greta is all "pity you both must die" again with a little smirk and Aziraphale is trying to calm her down and reason with her while also subtly trying to get close enough to get the gun and she probably fires but she's a zombie so she misses lol and he's like glancing over for Crowley and Crowley seems to disappear for a moment while Aziraphale stalls Greta and just when we think where the hell did Crowley go?! Aziraphale is about to be shot in the face!...

...Greta is shot in the face instead.

By Crowley.

With The Bullet Catcher.

And the bullet that was in Aziraphale's teeth a couple of hours ago.

Crowley has not so much has blown the fluff off a dandelion since he arrived on Earth six thousand years ago but you interrupt his first kiss with the angel and you. are. dead, you Nazi bitch...

I don't have a theory as to what happens after this beyond that we already know that Furfur is in Requisitions in the present now so he's going places lol. Also worth mentioning that Crowley or Aziraphale (I'd lean towards Crowley) could get shot by Greta's wild aim when they are trying to protect one another but it would be more of a graze that one could write a hundred h/c fics over than anything worth actually worrying about lol. It could be something like Crowley gets nicked but goes down as dramatically as he does in the paintball scene in S1 and Aziraphale is horrified but also fighting for his own life so he winds up focused on Greta and neither of them see Crowley slip away to come back with The Bullet Catcher... something like that. I'm just pretty sure that the fact that there are really *two* Chekhov's guns in the bookshop and that Greta is the only 1941 antagonist who can get inside it maths out to Crowley-- shooting her with The Bullet Catcher.

I'm not sure what happens to Harmony and Glozier. Aziraphale says in S1 that he's never killed anything so he can't kill anyone here and while I'm fine with Crowley mowing down Nazis with every Chekhov's gun left in the plot lol, I don't know that that's what happened or if, honestly, the two of them and Furfur just see Greta die through the window and run off. Maybe Aziraphale miracles the Nazis to Siberia. Who knows. But the main gist of it, I think, is that Crowley kills Greta when the Zombie Nazis and Furfur try to exact revenge on Crowley & Aziraphale and, in doing so, interrupt what would have been their first kiss and it's while "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is on in the background so that every time the song comes up in the future, it's a reference to this near-kiss in 1941, adding layers to scenes from Soho 1967 to the end of S1 to the end of S2, etc...

Kind of makes Crowley desperately kissing Aziraphale in the middle of the bookshop while a vengeful Heaven, this time, is trying to separate them, even more aldkjlkfjlewje, yeah?

I'd also like to just throw in here that it's actually possible that all of this is the same but they *did* kiss... that they were kissing when Greta burst in. Part of me really wants that to be the case. That maybe they did get to have this kiss, if only because even if only a tenth of what I've said above is anywhere close to right, it's still pretty romantic and it would be nice if they got to have that, especially then, even if it was ultimately interrupted. It's Soho 1967, though, that convinced me that they came *very* close but ultimately didn't (and honestly, the only way they don't in 1941 if they get that close is if they're interrupted and an armed Zombie Nazi crashing through the bookshop feels about right lol.) It's this bit from Aziraphale to me that says they almost kissed but didn't:

The picnic was likely Crowley's 1827 date in Edinburgh. The Gabriel statue was there for amusement but you know Crowley had a picnic set up nearby. (It's not that weird-- people used to picnic in graveyards in the 1800s & the only time Crowley & Aziraphale would be able to together would be under the cover of darkness.) Then, they ran into Elspeth and the night took a turn. (Elspeth was also digging up bodies from graves, which is a parallel to zombies, hooking 1827 to 1941.) Dining at the Ritz-- literally going to The Ritz and eating together, which they do twice in S1-- is something Aziraphale would literally like to go do as a date as but it's also code in the 1967 scene for "perhaps, one day, we could finish 1941." He's telling Crowley in 1967 that he would still very much like to kiss him one day.

The near-kiss in 1941 would then also be what gives Aziraphale the motivation to eventually give Crowley the holy water in 1967. Back in 1863, Aziraphale didn't totally see that Crowley wanted holy water to protect them. By 1941, when they're staring at the corpse of a once-Zombie Nazi on the floor of the bookshop that Crowley just killed with the gun that's in his hands, it's a different sort of proof. 1941 becomes the era of 'here is proof that Crowley will literally kill to protect Aziraphale' and maybe it freaks Aziraphale out a little (as well as also turning him on a lot lol). Maybe that's why they spend the next years after that until the '60s together but not really together. Maybe that's why they don't have another chance at the kiss after 1941-- why they don't just try again-- because Aziraphale slows down a bit after it, afraid that Crowley could get hurt and that this is too dangerous, but he also understands now that Crowley is in love with him and when he hears in 1967 that Crowley is going after Holy Water, Aziraphale just gives him some, as a way of saying that he knows they're in love but this is impossible and they need to not pursue this in a way that will get them killed because he can't lose him.

A near-kiss in 1941 adds layers to 1967 Soho by adding an additional meaning of 'physical intimacy' to "dining at the Ritz". It adds even more weight to the end of S2 and the kiss and the "no nightingales" through to the Tori Amos angsty cover of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" in The Bentley. There are other scenes (the end of S1 and others) that it touches as well, if indirectly, but maybe my favorite is this scene, which has already been given extra layers of meaning since The Blitz, Part 2 and The Bullet Catcher plot but lol now add in the idea that the rest of the story is that Crowley and Aziraphale were going to kiss and they were interrupted in the moment, shot at with at least one of them probably getting nicked, and then Crowley killed someone with The Bullet Catcher and tell me it doesn't make this already amazing sequence even more amazing:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens theory #good omens 1941 #good omens meta #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

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peaxhxhair · 3 months

Text

Raising Kids with them - Overwatch Heroes

Featuring: Cassidy, Mercy, Moira, Roadhog, Junker Queen Warnings: Moira. A/n: this isn't exactly the official setting for each character - but this is fanfiction so we're gonna ignore it lol Navigation Overwatch - MASTERLIST Consider becoming a member! <3

Odessa Stone (Junker Queen)

She wouldn't be into having kids at first - thinking that something so small would make her weak.

It does - but she refuses to admit it.

You both decided adoption was probably the best option - adopting a sweet baby girl.

I think Dez would be all about teaching her kids to fight.

Even before they've learnt to walk.

"C'mon kiddo! I was fighting at your age!"

Sometimes you would find her playing with your baby - making it look as if they were both boxing.

It was quite a funny sight.

You'll come home from work and find them watching wrestling or something.

Probably swears around your kid.

Your babies first word is probably 'cunt' or 'fuck'

You're usually the one to take your daughter to school, but on the off chance Dez does - the rest of the parents are scared of her.

The kids adore her though.

She'll struggle doing stuff like diaper changes at first - as anyone would

~~~

As your daughter gets older - she grows into a mini version of Dez.

She wont call her 'mom' - instead calling her something silly like 'cunt' or 'fuckwit'

Dez gets a real kick out of it - and does the same.

Dez would be a little disappointed if your kid didn't want to fight, though she'd still be supportive - even if she didn't really understand.

Cries on your daughters wedding day - but tries to hide it.

"I'm not crying cunt, you're crying"

Mako Rutledge (Roadhog)

I think Mako would be really good with kids-

Big brooding dad & cute tiny daughter combo type vibe

Maybe she's really talkative, and he just listens.

He'd let her put clips in his hair and paint his nails.

It's giving Gru when his girls are doing ballet.

He's always the one to hold the kids when needed - since he barely has any issue.

His hands are just so big.

Even if you had like - 4 kids he would have no trouble carrying them all.

You were grateful that you could have some time alone sometimes, as Mako is a very competent father.

'crane's hand back while driving when kid opens snack' dad

Your kid might pretend to wear his shoes - and they can barely even stand properly in them, let alone walk.

Moira O'Deorain

Does not want kids.

Only agreed because you would make a face at her whenever you saw a baby.

test-tube baby fr

Literally will not go to another doctor about her kids health.

Does she know anything about kids? No.

Does she think she knows more than the QUALIFIED children's doctors? Absolutely she does.

MIGHT agree to taking your kid to see Angela - if you're not too keen on her doing science on your kid.

HATES being called mom.

She's fine with your kid just calling her by her name.

This was weird on the first day of school - most parents thinking your kids other parent wasn't in the picture.

She was fine with that idea - meaning that you 'left' your old partner for her. Narcissist.

~~~

Your babies first word was definitely her name.

but in the cute baby way.

'Moiwa'

When your kid gets a little older, maybe they'll ask about Moira's arm.

"This is what happens when you smoke"

Your kid will never even THINK about smoking ever again.

It isn't until they're 30 that they realise that wasn't true.

Prefers to keep her kids away from science - as much as it was important to her.

She'll barely talk to you about it either - which may be hard if you're also a part of Talon.

Having to bring your kids to work with you is definitely SOMETHING.

You'd prefer for them to be with you rather than with Moira, though.

Your kids are NOSY, so you have to bend the truth a little bit.

Just to make sure they don't view their mom as the ruthless geneticist that she ACTUALLY is.

"Why is miss Amelie blue?"

"She didn't eat her vegetables"

Angela Ziegler (Mercy)

BIG on consistent check-ups.

Sometimes she'll do them herself, but she prefers the professionals.

She doesn't specialise in child care, but she does make sure that your child is going to the best doctor in the field.

Definitely enjoys shopping for baby clothes.

Works with baby on lap - letting the little guy play with her fingers.

Aeroplane noises while getting the baby to eat.

does NOT let the kid eat candy until they're like 10.

This was hard for you - because it meant you couldn't have candy in the house.

Secret stash of sweets hidden somewhere in your car.

One in Overwatch HQ too.

ALWAYS prepared.

Baby needs a snack? She's got cut up grapes in her bag.

Always has wipes and diapers.

"Hey babe? Where's their bottle?" She's already retrieved it from the drying rack.

Tiny first-aid kid in her bag at ALL times.

~~~

If your kid wants their ears pierced at Claire's. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Angela is panicked at any idea of infections - especially when it comes to your kid.

Your kiddo is made to wear clip on earrings until they qualify to be pierced by a professional.

Will always make sure places are baby safe before you take your kid there.

~~~

She's calm 90% of the time - she just cares about general safety and health.

Matching onesies with your kid.

Chilli and Bingo core :)

Angela would LOVE doing Halloween costumes for your kiddo.

They're always so CUTE.

If she has the time, she'll put together matching family ones.

Cole Cassidy

Baby carrier dad.

Like he'll just carry your baby everywhere.

Gets upset when he has to put the little guy down.

"We're just fine over here. No need to pull us apart"

Your child definitely prefers him to you - which you're fine with.

It's just so cute seeing them play together.

I'd say he's a girl dad - the type to teach her how to shoot, or play football with.

9 times out of ten, he'll fall asleep while reading her a bedtime story, so he always just ends up sleeping in your daughters bed with her.

The two of them cuddled up on the tiny mattress - he's holding your little girl so protectively.

~~~

The moms at the nursery you take your daughter to all think Cole is hot.

Too right.

They just need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

Your kid is very protective of him - and your relationship.

If you're married, she'll be like;

"Daddy, show her your wedding ring!! Isn't it nice?"

It makes Cole chuckle every time.

Cole didn't even need to shut the women down - your kid was doing all the work for him.

~~~

Definitely the dad that all of your kids friends like

"Your dad is so cool!"

He's always invited to their little tea parties and stuff.

Yes, he will put on the crown and princess dress.

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peachhcs · 6 months

Note

Could we get kinda what we go from “Sammy how she was really that Will was work it” but in this case how Will was also in a dilema because it’s his best friend and it take him time to understand but he is also willing to sacrifice everything because it’s Sammy his best friend the girl he loves.

the 3 times will's confused about his feelings and the 1 time he isn't

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's pining after his best friend, but is he really willing to risk their entire friendship for a relationship?

5.9k words

woo second longest fic of the series and i'm finally doing a request! guys if this is bad, i'm so sorry. i got a bit carried away and i don't like the ending but that's fine lol i'm still working through my requests but feel free to send more and i'll get to it at some point :) this also isn't proofread so if you see mistakes my bad i will try and proofread this soon lol

au masterlist

ONE

the first time will's heart skipped a beat against his chest when he wasn't drunk enough to play off any of the feelings trying to make their way to the surface was watching samy's senior send off for her last homecoming. there were probably over 30 families in the small drive trying to take photos together along with couples everywhere navigating their way through the crowds. knowing the last homecoming was a big deal for samy, will convinced gabe and ryan to drive down to see her off knowing she'd really appreciate having them there.

the three stood with ellen, jim, and luke in a small corner of the lot watching the youngest hughes pack herself together with all of her friends for pictures. there was something nostalgic about all of it considering the boys didn't get things like this when all of their focus was on hockey most of the time. even if they denied it, they secretly loved getting to be a part of samy's senior year.

gabe and ryan talked mindlessly with luke and while will stood in their small circle, he definitely was not paying attention to what was being said. instead, his eyes lingered on his best friend. she stood some feet away from them immersed in her own conversation filled with laughter and large smiles with no idea that a pair of eyes couldn't leave her no matter how hard they tried.

for the entire day since they got to samy's house, will's eyes kept finding samy even if she wasn't looking at him. he'd be standing with ryan and gabe and his gaze would just drift away from them to samy whenever she was in the same room as them. even when she was just walking by, will's eyes followed every single move.

he didn't get it. it couldn't be because of her curled hair, sparkly dress, and makeup.

he's seen her dressed up so many times over the summers because their parents would drag them out to eat at a fancy restaurant no matter how many times they said they didn't want to. it happed at least twice in the three months they spent together, so will didn't get why he just couldn't peel his eyes off the girl.

there was another reason and one that the blonde hadn't fully come to terms with yet.

her date was this guy she'd been talking to on and off over the summer. will met him once when he stopped by in august to take samy out for their first date. he seemed fine—soccer player, good grades, a swimmer on occasion. nothing special, but not some jerk at least. samy liked him and that was all that mattered.

what no one knew was that will didn't fall asleep that night until he heard the front door closing and soft footsteps padding up the stairs where samy's bedroom door shut seconds later meaning she made it back safely.

the guy clung to samy's side the entire time taking pictures. his arm was wrapped around her waist at nearly every second like he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go. that gesture, seeing him grip samy's waist like that, had will's chest tightening into knots and his heart skipping a beat. something in him popped open—a feeling. an urge.

a jealousy.

as soon as those thoughts mixed into the blonde's consciousness, his face whitened even more than it was. his jealousy quickly faded into confusion then back to jealousy then back to confusion the back to—

"you okay?" gabe's voice broke will's thoughts. he snapped his gaze towards his friend who already looked at him expectantly. ryan and luke raised their eyebrows, but tried not to act like they were staring at him.

will's jaw immediately loosened and the color in his face quickly returned to normal as if the feelings in his chest moments ago were never there in the first place.

"yeah, why?"

gabe paused. he looked at his friend a bit longer before slowly shaking his head. "no reason. you looked lost there," the dark-haired boy shrugged.

"think i'm just tired," will forced a yawn to make it more believable.

he knew gabe was studying him like he didn't quite believe what he was saying. next to samy, gabe probably knew will the best which meant he knew when the entire truth wasn't being told. feeling a bit flustered, will drew his gaze away from gabe, but unfortunately, it led itself right back to samy and her date hanging off her side.

something inside of will was screaming as the warmth in his skin returned and his jaw unknowingly clenched seeing them so close together. the feelings returned along with the battle in his mind between jealousy and confusion.

was that why he couldn't peel his eyes away from her all day? because of her date being at her side at every single second and staring at her in a way that made will's stomach drop not because he didn't like the way her date was looking at her, but because he wanted to be the one looking at her like that—

"will! get over here!" this time samy's voice broke the boy from his racing thoughts.

she found his gaze, a soft smile on her lips motioning him over. his nerves eased and a smile replaced the confusion on his features as he shuffled towards her. ellen already had her camera out as samy's date (finally) dropped from her side and will took his place.

samy, who was as oblivious as ever, tucked her head into the blonde's shoulder while his arm found the same exact place on her waist. her touch shot a fiery sensation through will as he mustered up his best smile for ellen 's phone.

"you guys look adorable. i'll send these to your mom," ellen beamed before ushering gabe and ryan into the photo as well.

ryan grabbed samy's other side while gabe hooked himself onto will's side. the four of them scrunched together with wide smiles, but all will could think about was samy's hip pressing into his own marking just how close they were and the explosion it sent throughout the boy's body.

"so, so cute, i'm so glad you guys drove down," ellen said and finished taking pictures for now.

the three broke apart, but lingered close by as samy grabbed her phone to check her makeup. "i think you've looked at yourself twenty times in the span of fifteen minutes," ryan laughed.

"shut up, leonard," the brunette eyed him.

"i'm just saying. you look fine. stop worrying," the taller boy said in a more softer tone. samy rolled her eyes before her gaze fell on will, seeking confirmation because she knew he'd be honest with her.

will's poor blush got worse under her stare, "don't listen to leno. you look good."

his words made samy grin, "thanks, i trust you. thanks for coming down. it means a lot." she ruffled up some of his curls that surprisingly weren't hidden by a baseball cap for once.

"yeah, of course. wouldn't miss it for the world, hughesy."

her smile had will's heart skipping a beat for a second time and something in him wanted to make her smile like that all the time.

the reality of everything set back in when samy's date returned to her side and started whisking her away as everyone began leaving. the girl rushed out her goodbyes and thank you's before disappearing into a car.

"you guys are more than welcome to hang around the house for the night if you don't wanna drive back. dinner, too," ellen extended her offer to the three boys hanging around still.

"anything made by mama hughes is an automatic yes," ryan grinned making the others laugh.

"i'm flattered. you can follow us back up to the house," the older woman beamed.

later that night after the boys ate as much as they physically could, gabe found will sitting on the back deck looking blankly ahead. the dark-haired boy shuffled his way towards the edge of the deck using his foot to poke will's back, announcing his presence.

"what are you doing out here by yourself?" gabe wondered. the sun hadn't set yet, but the air was growing cooler as october drifted into november and there wasn't much to look at besides a playground and the family pool.

"just..thinking," will answered.

for a moment, gabe wondered if he should keep prodding because he definitely knew what will was thinking about. he saw it when they stood in the lot watching samy take pictures with everyone. he saw it in will's face when him and samy took pictures together.

"about?" the boy sat on the step above the one will was on.

"just stuff," the vagueness had gabe rolling his eyes.

"about samy?"

sure, the guys teased the two all the time about having feelings for one another, but it was never serious. they were always joking and will knew that which was why he could brush their comments off. this time gabe was being serious and they both knew that. will couldn't push his questions or comments off.

the silence from the blonde told gabe everything he needed to know. he saw right through will.

"seeing her with her date..i don't know. i didn't like it. it felt wrong. i-i think i felt jealous? like..like maybe it should've been me instead?" will hardly ever opened up about his feelings, especially regarding samy, but he knew gabe wouldn't stop asking.

"do you know why you felt jealous?" gabe wondered.

the words were on the tip of will's tongue, yet he couldn't bring himself to say it. those words have bounced around in his head since that stupid truth or dare game where samy kissed him in the bathroom. they were there when they were drunk and made out with one another, yet neither of them talked about it after. they were there when samy was the first person he went to after a game.

it was all there, but will couldn't say it.

"no, i don't."

if he said it, it made the feelings real and in will's mind, they couldn't be real. she was his best friend. that was all she'd ever be.

TWO

no one spoke a word in the locker room after coach's harsh lecture. the loss sunk into everyone's skin, especially since it was their first loss of the season and they were supposed to win this game. no one did anything right which was why they gave up three points to the other team. the buzz of adrenaline that usually danced across every guy was replaced with solemn and disappointment. will felt it extra hard after his coach pulled him aside to give him an extra lecture.

he was one of the team's best, the coach's favorite, the team's favorite, yet he let everyone down giving up those three points.

no one dared speaking to one another as everyone slowly drifted out of the locker room once they were showered and redressed. will hardly moved from his stall, though. his head fell into his hands along with a bitter line of frustration towards himself.

he couldn't step out of the locker room with the knowledge his parents were waiting probably disappointed in him and another harsh lecture to follow. the boy couldn't handle that right now. he needed to focus on breathing before he punched something and got into even more trouble.

a small knock caught his attention. will lifted his head fully expecting his dad, but when he saw samy lingering in the doorway, everything about his demeanor shifted.

"oh will," the brunette frowned seeing his state.

she went to him, hands pulling his own away from his hair and wiping the tears will didn't even know was falling down his cheeks. "ryan and gabe said you were in here still," the girl explained her presence.

"we fucking lost," the boy choked out.

"i know. i know. it sucks," she pulled him into her so she could run her fingers through his hair and massage the spots he pulled at in frustration.

something about her soft touch and soothing voice had more tears spilling out of the boy as he buried his face into her chest.

will was by no means a vulnerable person. he had a hard time being emotional with people, but everything with samy was different. he could cry in her arms for however long he wanted knowing she wouldn't ever judge him and let him cry for as long as he needed.

her gentle fingers wound around his curls which was a stark contrast to the way he roughly pulled at them minutes ago. they just sat there on the bench while will attempted to regather himself so he'd stop crying, but samy hardly minded. she hummed some mindless tune and everything about it had will's head spinning.

those feelings he had a few weeks ago were back and a lot stronger than before. jealousy, want, and need mixed themselves together creating a pretty lethal combination building in the boy's chest, but again, he couldn't understand it.

why, why, why, why, why.

"wanna talk about it at all?" samy wondered after some more silence.

will slowly lifted his head up so he could meet her gaze. he probably looked like hell, but if he did, samy didn't any anything.

"i let everyone down. coach is mad at me and i'm sure my parents are gonna give it to me once i go out there," the blonde frowned a bit making samy frown as well.

"you didn't let people down. you played your heart out. tonight just wasn't your night," samy said softly.

"but we lost a game we should've won. everyone was counting on me to prove that i'm good at his and deserve a spot on a d1 college team," will continued.

"this one loss doesn't mean you're not good enough. you are good enough. a bad game isn't a bad career. i think you're good enough."

i think you're good enough. her words tightened will's chest along with the way she stared at him—so loving and so sure of his abilities.

"you're just saying that because you have to," the boy almost scoffed.

"i'm not, i promise. i've always thought you're good enough, will. you lost a game and that sucks, but it's not a bad career. no one hates you because you did your best," her words warmed the hockey player's heart.

she wrapped her arms around his neck for a tight hug. will's own 'arms tightened around her waist and buried his face into the crook of her neck. if someone walked in who didn't know them, they'd definitely think they were dating just based on the way they were wrapped around each other.

will never wanted to let go, but he knew he had to eventually, so he drew back. samy smiled, placing a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead. she's done it before, but right now it meant a lot more to will than before. the gentleness of her lips had the boy wondering what they'd feel like against his own lips when neither of them were drunk to even really remember what happened the next morning.

"you wanna go out there together?" samy wondered.

the blonde nodded. he collected his things and wrapped his arm tightly around samy's shoulders as they finally faced his parents waiting for him. they spotted them a few feet outside of the locker room and will braced himself for the worst.

will's mom saw her son's state—dreary eyes, teary cheeks, messed up hair—and placed a hand on her husband's arm before he said anything he was planning on saying. colleen knew another lecture wasn't what her son needed nor wanted. she saw samy hanging off his arm knowing she probably calmed him down in the locker room and she hated disrupting the peace samy brought to him in whatever way.

instead, colleen stepped forward to collect will into a hug. "you did your best, yeah?" she whispered into his ear. all will did was nod.

"you wanna join us for dinner, samy?" colleen looked over at the girl.

she was about to decline the offer until she met will's gaze that said something like please stay and she couldn't ever say no to him when he looked at her like that.

"yeah, i'd love to. thank you."

with that, the four piled into the car back to the house. as soon as will got situated in the back seat, he reached for samy. the girl laid herself in her arms and for a second, everything felt okay. the feelings racing through his chest eased while those three words crept up further and further up.

after dinner, will dragged samy to his room to watch a movie while trying to avoid his dad's lecture for as long as he possibly could. they didn't even get 20 minutes in until samy was falling asleep against the boy's chest. it was a pretty regular occurrence, especially over the summer, but right now will was terrified to even move because he didn't wanna wake her up.

he found his phone, clicking into gabe's contact and staring at the chat for a moment before typing something. he stared a his message for a moment, debating on sending it.

if he sent it, his feelings became real. could he actually do that? could he actually admit something that's been plaguing his mind for months now?

what if everything went wrong?

before will could even think about sending it, his phone started buzzing in his hands as grace's contact flashed across the screen. he grabbed his airpods just as his sister's face appeared.

"hi will. i heard about your game," the older smith smiled gently.

"it was a shit show," will whispered.

"it looked like you were playing well though?" grace offered, but the boy only shrugged.

"i don't know. i guess?"

"why are you whispering?" grace wondered quickly making her brother's face flush.

he carefully directed his camera down to where samy could be seen sleeping at his side. the look on grace's face was a mix between surprise and a small smirk because she also knew all too well about her brother's feelings even if he didn't say anything.

"so when are you finally gonna ask her out?" grace teased.

"stop," will rolled his eyes.

"what? i'm not sure cuddling in your bed is something just friends do," the older girl stated.

"or drunk makeouts?" will muttered that part, but grace heard him nonetheless.

"drunk what?" she sounded nearly flabbergasted.

"never mind," the boy shook his head.

"seriously, will. you obviously like her. what other reason is there for feeling jealous of her homecoming date?"

grace stumped him with that one. will's gaze drifted down to the girl still sleeping peacefully beside him. his fingers found a place in her hair and gently wrapped it around his fingers like she had done for him. the blood roared in his ears along with a feeling of warmth spreading all across his chest watching samy sleep so soundly at his side like nothing else mattered.

"what if i'm scared?" will finally said.

"scared? of what?" grace grew confused.

"if i admit how i feel, it makes it real and i'm scared of making it real. she's my best friend, grace. i'm not supposed to feel this way," the blonde's admission had grace's expression softening.

"i think that's all the more reason to feel this way. the most unexpected feelings come from the most unexpected people, will. i doubt she doesn't feel the same way too."

when the siblings ended their call, will went back to him and gabe's chat feeling a bit more sure than he did before grace called. his message still sat in the box waiting to be sent. with one final look at samy, will hit send and he knew everything after this was gonna be as real as it could get.

from will i think i like samy

THREE

a loud buzzing pulled will from his sleep. the boy jolted, bleary eyes trying to adjust to the dark and find the source of the incredibly obnoxious buzzing. his eyes flicked around his room until his phone screen lit up and he finally realized someone was trying to call him.

he grabbed his phone, not even hesitating as he lifted it to his ear and sounds of a party came through on the other end.

"hello?" will rasped out, sleep laced deep in his voice.

"w-will? hey!" marcie's voice came through. the boy raised his eyebrow trying to remember if he ever gave marcie his phone number.

he pulled the phone away to read the screen, but nothing answered his confusion seeing samy's name on the screen. "marcie?" the boy mumbled.

"hi, hey. yes. sorry. i'm sorry for calling so late..i..jesus.." she stumbled over her words and for some reason, that woke will up more when he heard the slight slur in her tone and her fast talking.

"are you okay?" the boy sat up in his bed.

"yes. maybe. so..we're at this party..we're like..30? maybe? minutes from you? samy drank a little too much..and i-i didn't know who else to call? her brothers would've definitely killed her and..and you were like the first person on her emergency contact list. i know it's late..but like..could you come down? please?"

marcie didn't even have to ask twice as will jumped out of bed and got himself dressed as quickly as possible.

"i'm on my way. can you send me your location?" he was out the front door a second later with keys in hand to his car.

"yes, i did. don't freak out, she'll be fine i just..i have no idea where to take her," marcie explained.

"i'll be there as quickly as possible, okay? just keep her awake and make her drink water," will rushed and the two said goodbye after that.

about 100 thoughts ran through will's head all at once as he definitely went over the speed limit. something in him paled at the idea of samy at a party getting too drunk that she couldn't make decisions for herself. he wondered why she didn't invite him? or why she was drinking that much in the first place?

"just breathe, will," the boy muttered to himself before he gave himself a panic attack.

he made it the house in record time probably going the fastest he's ever gone in a car to cut the trip down. marcie and samy were on the front lawn where will rushed to them as soon as the car slid into park.

"hey, you okay?" he hugged marcie first.

"yeah, i'm fine. i'm sorry again. it's so late and i..i don't know why i didn't..i'm sorry," the girl became flustered and embarrassed she even let her friend get so drunk.

"don't apologize. it's not your fault. has she been drinking water?" will gazed down at the brunette on the ground.

"yeah, i've been giving her a little bit."

samy's eyes gazed up at will while a hint of recognition flashed through them before she literally jumped into his arms.

"willie! hey! what are you doing here?" the girl exclaimed as she practically clung onto him.

"came to get you. you doing okay?" will pulled his gaze down to hers.

"mhm, yeah. perfecttt," she dragged out the t.

"i'm glad you're perfect. wanna get in the car?" samy gave him a half nod as him and marcie helped the girl into the back seat. she practically collapsed onto the entire back row with small fits of giggles leaving her lips.

marcie and will got back into the front. the first five or so minutes of the drive became filled with silence besides the soft hum of the radio and samy's quiet mumbling to herself. will glanced at her through the rearview mirror every five seconds probably—worry etched into his features and the hundred thoughts racing through his mind again.

"i'm sorry again. i don't know why she got so drunk," marcie broke the silence, her voice small.

"don't apologize. it's not your fault," will said. his words didn't convince the girl because she just shook her head.

"i don't really know the details but i think her and kevin stopped talking. she was briefly talking about it with me the other day and then she proposed going to that party i think to get over him.." marcie's voice faded off into the deafening silence in the car.

kevin was samy's newest guy—the same one she went to homecoming with. they had been talking for quite a long time with an implication of a relationship soon, so will wondered where it went wrong.

"i don't know if i should be telling you this either, but samy started rambling on about you. it was broken sentences, but she kept saying how it's been you all along, even kevin knew. something like that," the girl's words tightened the blonde's chest into the familiar knots he's become acquainted with over the past few months.

"oh."

"i mean come on, will. you guys are so obvious yet so oblivious at the same time. why else do you think she kisses you in the bathroom?" there was something about driving down backroads at almost three in the morning that brought out the most vulnerable in people.

"i-i don't think that really counts. she's drunk. i'm drunk," will swallowed nervously, his eyes glancing up at samy again.

"well, yeah, but aren't drunk words, drunk actions sober thoughts? you're always the one she goes to by the end of the night," the two met each other's gazes. marcie had a pointed look on her expression that will tried not to read into too much.

"i don't know. it still doesn't feel genuine though?"

"what about the time you guys kissed sober during that truth or dare?" that was the only time him and samy were sober and kissing. will thought about that moment a lot.

another silence filled between them. the boy's glance landed on samy who was close to sleep and everything marcie just said replayed over and over in his mind. there was a tug at his heart thinking about samy having him as her first emergency contact and another tug at the smallest idea that she might actually like him back.

"you like her, right?" marcie spoke again. will's gazed flick over to hers momentarily.

"yeah," the boy whispered knowing samy was too out of it to understand what they were talking about.

"i know your scared about ruining everything with her if you did date, but i know you guys care a lot about each other to ever think about hurting one another. when i first met you last year i immediately saw your relationship. i saw the way you looked at her and the way she looked at you. i don't think i've ever seen a guy care that much about her before and that's coming from someone who's been her friend since middle school. you mean a lot to her, will. like a lot," marcie rambled on, but her words had a deep blush spreading across the boy's cheeks.

will led marcie to the guest room while he sat samy down on the couch. he wanted to sober her up before he let her go to bed knowing she'd have a killer hangover in the morning and he feared she'd throw up in her sleep.

"thanks for calling me, mar. i'll make sure she'll be okay," will said before the girl went to bed.

a soft smile appeared on her lips, "i know you will. thanks for coming and getting us. i hope your parents won't hate you."

"they won't. i'll explain everything and make sure you guys won't get in trouble," the two exchanged warm smiles.

will returned his attention to the girl on the couch. he grabbed water, a snack, and tylenol in hopes that it will sober her up some more. samy gazed up at him as he came back into the living room, a smile on her lips.

"aww, you're so sweet willie. i love cheez-its," the brunette hummed.

"i know you do," the boy chuckled. he poured a few into a bowl, not wanting samy to overeat and make herself sick.

"you should've been at the party. it was sooo much fun," the girl gushed.

"it looks like you had fun."

"i dumped kevin," her bluntness caught will of guard. he's never been around her when she was this drunk and was quickly learning that samy said anything on her mind.

"i heard," the boy hummed.

"i didn't really like him that much anyway. he kept arguing with me about stupid stuff. he thinks you like me! isn't that hilarious?" soft laughter tumbled from the girl's lips, but will wasn't laughing. the only thing he could hear was his pounding heart beating a bruise against his chest.

"i started thinking about it a lot, actually. maybe it's part of the reason why i broke up with him. i don't really know. dating your best friend? that seems scary to me," she kept rambling and will had no idea what to say.

he wanted to confess everything to her, but he knew she definitely wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, so how true was it really? it brought will back to all of the times they woke up the morning after drunkenly making out, but samy never said anything about it. they just acted like nothing happened.

"yeah, it does seem scary," the blonde managed.

"i mean would you date me? i'm saying all of this and i don't even know if you like me," the girl laughed again.

will's heart clenched, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything, "how are you feeling? it's getting late. maybe you should try and sleep?"

"you're right. i'm exhausted and i'm gonna feel like shit in the morning," samy mumbled.

"is sleeping in grace's room okay?" will collected her things, extending his hand out to help her up the stairs.

"mhmm, sounds perfect."

the two tiptoed up the stairs to the older smith's bedroom. will helped take samy's shoes off and he attempted to wipe some of her makeup off before laying her down. the girl smiled lazily at him.

"thanks for taking care of me, willie. you mean a lot to me."

"of course. i'll see you in the morning," the blonde returned her smile, but as soon as he faced away from her, it faded.

once the bedroom door was shut, will leaned himself against it to just recollect himself with the ache in his heart that samy wouldn't remember anything about tonight. hell, marcie's words were probably just drunk rambling.

THE 1 TIME

goosebumps ran up will's skin when a delicate hand ran across his arm, pulling the blonde from the book he was reading. he lifted his head, a soft smile appearing on his lips seeing samy peering down at him. "hi," will said.

"hi, pretty boy," samy returned his soft smile with one her own. hearing that pet name roll off her tongue directed at him was something will would never get used to. even though they've only been together for a month, he'd nevr get tired of hearing it.

"what's up?" the blonde wondered as he reached his hand up to run across samy's skin.

"just wanted to come say hi. you looked so cozy up here," the girl giggled.

"wanna sit?" will offered the tiny space next to him. samy swung her legs over, basically landing in his lap because the seat was definitely not made for two people—or a 6'0 hockey player and his girlfriend.

"how was golfing with jack, quinn, and luke?" the guys went out early to get a game in and samy did not like golf that much to get up as early as they did.

"it was fun. i think luke killed all of us, but i think gabe and ryan had fun," the blonde laughed. he caught sight of his teammates down in the yard trying to play volleyball.

"i swear, my brothers' profession would be golfing if it weren't for hockey," the girl giggled which was like music to will's ears.

"you should come next time. i think you could definitely beat luke," will lovingly squeezed part of her leg that rested atop his lap.

"are you just saying that because you want to see me in a skirt?" samy teased a bit which caused will to blush a deep crimson all the way to the tips of his ears.

"shut up. that's not what i was implying," he playfully rolled his eyes.

"i know, i'm just kidding. my brothers are way better at golf than i am, so i definitely could not beat any of them."

a comfortable silence settled between the couple. will's gaze lingered on samy who glanced at her phone, so she missed her boyfriend's loving stare until she looked back up and flushed when he was already looking at her.

"when do you leave for boston?" she changed the subject for now.

"august 12th," will answered with a hint of sadness laced in his voice. the idea of leaving hurt will a lot more than he thought it would. especially after finally getting the girl.

sure, he'd have all of his teammates following him, but the one person he wanted to always be around wasn't coming.

"three weeks away?" samy wondered and the boy nodded.

"i can't believe it's already here," will mumbled earning a tiny frown from the brunette.

"you're gonna do so awesome at boston, will. i'm really proud of you."

samy shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck. he buried his face into the crook her neck, placing soft kisses against her skin. "i wish you were coming with me," he mumbled.

"me too. i wish we got our act together and got together a lot sooner. maybe if i wasn't so afraid of my feelings and kept pushing them away," samy rolled her eyes, but will pulled back. he raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"wait, how long have you known about your feelings?"

samy's face flushed, "well..i kept pushing them away every time we drunkenly made out at parties. i don't know. prom i knew i had feelings, but i was scared and stupid."

"so you did remember the next morning after the party," will chuckled in mostly amusement.

"uh, yeah. i did. i never said anything because i just..i don't know. i didn't know how you felt. i didn't wanna make it weird and we had a thing going," she shrugged a bit.

"it wasn't obvious to you how i felt after?" will smiled a bit with a small tilt of his head.

"looking back, yeah it was obvious. i was stupid," the girl flushed again.

all will could do was laugh and pull samy closer to his chest where he never wanted to let go. everything they went through was worth it in the end to finally have the girl will's always had feelings for. for once in life, he was finally sure about something besides hockey.

hockey's been a constant and he was too dumb to realize he had another one right in front of his face all along.

as the hot summer sun danced between the clouds, will had everything he could ever need. samy laid against his chest and what was better than having his favorite girl beside him all the time now? he truly couldn't ask for anything more.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #will smith fluff #will smith hockey fluff #bc hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #luke hughes

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misc-obeyme · 9 months

Text

Well okay. One whole person stated they would like to see the pegging version of catboy Satan so here it is.

I see you, @cactusmisslittle. I hope it’s okay that I tagged you, but your tags here are the only reason this version exists lol.

An important note! I've been calling this pegging because that's how I've been thinking about it, but I also wanted to keep things gender neutral if possible. I don't know if I succeeded, but to that end, I've used the word "cock" in place of "strap." So if you're imagining a strap, let's just say you call it your cock, okay? I don't know, I couldn't come up with a better way to go about it.

Oh yeah and one more thing - I didn't talk about the putting on of a strap, either, but it would happen when MC is taking off their clothes. Tantan is being patient and waiting for them lol.

The beginning part is all the same, with Satan dropping hints and MC walking into their room to find him. The only part that's changed is the actual sex. Once again, I apologize for low quality, I'm still getting into the swing of writing again.

GN!MC x Satan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: soft dom!MC, cat collar with bell & cat ears, praising, use of Tantan as a nickname, still a lil bit of biting, penetration (Satan receiving, could be read as pegging hopefully)

It might be difficult to tell from an outside perspective, but you knew that Satan was soft for you. The way he trusted you entirely with his feelings, even his anger, let you know that he was perhaps more comfortable with you than anyone else.

So it wasn't entirely a surprise when you started to pick up on some little hints of something he didn't seem to have worked up the courage to ask you directly.

You weren't sure what was happening right away. It started one day when he showed you a collection of cat collars that were for sale online. He scrolled through the pictures on his phone, finally stopping on one with a little bell.

"This one is especially cute, don't you think?" he asked.

You smiled indulgently. "Yeah it is. Are you going to get it for one of the strays in the garden?"

Satan blinked as if he was surprised by this suggestion. He looked at you and the confusion in his eyes was clear. Then you watched as a deep blush spread across his face. "R-right," he said. "Yes."

He immediately changed the subject, but you couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. Like maybe the two of you had been talking about different things.

You puzzled over this for a little while, a suspicion starting to form in the back of your mind.

Confirmation came in the form of a cosplay catalog that Levi left in the common room. The cover featured an anime character wearing cat ears and a collar.

Satan picked up the catalog and you could tell that he had known it was there. "Levi must have left this here," he said. He showed it to you. "Wh-what do you think?"

You looked at the cover. "Hmm," you said. "I like the cat ears. The collar should have a bell, though."

You watched in satisfaction as Satan's face flushed so hard and fast you thought steam might come out of his ears.

After that, you knew what you had to do.

You were careful about your purchase. You made sure it was obtained discreetly.

The collar itself was thick and black with a large silver buckle and a round silver bell. You had chosen black cat ears to match. You left them on Satan's bed with a note that said, Is this what you had in mind? MC.

And then you waited.

The next time you saw Satan was at breakfast. He sat across the table from you and met your eyes directly. He held your gaze for a moment too long before looking away. Nobody else seemed to notice and he acted completely normal the rest of the day.

You had no other indication of his reaction to your gift. For days, you waited for him to do something or say something. Was he upset? He wasn't acting angry.

And then one day you walked into your room and nearly died on the spot. As soon as you recovered, you closed the door and made sure it was locked. And that's when you remembered that everyone else was out of the house today. Was that what Satan had been waiting for?

You turned back to your bed to take in the sight of him.

There he sat, on his knees, with his hands pressed onto the bed between them. The collar was clasped perfectly around his neck, the bell and buckle shining. The cat ears were nestled in his hair, their black tufts a nice contrast to his bright blond. He was frowning, his eyes were closed, his face flushed, and he wore absolutely nothing else.

You slowly approached him, watching him as he stayed still. When you got to the edge of the bed, you stopped. You cupped his cheek, tilting his head to look up at you, even though his eyes stayed closed.

"Look at you," you said softly. "What a beautiful boy you are."

Satan's blush deepened, but he opened his eyes. You saw desire and pleasure and nervousness and embarrassment tumbling through the shades of green.

You brought up your other hand and held his face. "Don't be embarrassed. You look amazing."

The frown eased just a little. "I didn't think you would actually want to do this."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why would you think that?"

Satan looked away from you. "It doesn't… make you uncomfortable?"

You rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed his forehead. "No. It makes me horny as fuck. And I can see what it's doing to you, too."

You looked down deliberately where Satan's cock had been steadily growing as soon as you got close.

Satan buried his face in his hands, causing the bell around his neck to jingle slightly.

"No, no, no," you said softly, pulling his hands away. He opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but you cut him off with a kiss.

Satan responded to you instantly, opening his mouth for you. As your tongues entwined, you let go of one of his wrists to reach up and grab the collar. You used it to pull his head back, giving you easier access to his mouth as his hand now tugged on the edge of your shirt.

You pulled away to kiss the wrist of the hand you still held, trailing your lips down his arm and up his shoulder. He was breathing heavily as you traced your tongue along the edge of skin where the collar stopped, ringing the bell playfully with your fingers.

Satan moaned, his tugs on your shirt feeble but persistent.

You gave in, moving away from him to remove the shirt quickly, along with all the rest of your clothes. He waited patiently, mouth open, skin flushed, cock straining.

You sat beside him on the bed, putting two fingers beneath the collar to pull him toward you. He moved easily with your guidance, the bell tinkling ever so softly as you caught his swollen lips with yours again.

You ran a teasing finger along the shaft of his cock and it came away covered in pre-cum. Satan whined against your lips and the sound of it sent a shiver through your body.

You pulled away just a little bit. "Use your words, Tantan. Or would you rather meow for me?"

Satan shuddered and the bell tinkled. "Please, MC," he said, his voice low and gruff. It seemed he wasn't quite comfortable enough to meow and his eyes were closed again, his face turned slightly away.

"Look at me," you said.

Obediently, Satan opened his eyes and looked at you. He might have been frowning if he wasn't so overcome with lust in that moment. You took in the darkness of his eyes, the heat clearly visible on his skin, the expression that vacillated between need and embarrassment.

You realized you could tease him for hours if you really wanted to. You also knew that he would let you. Something about the way he was looking at you let you know that he was trusting you entirely. That he was putting himself in your hands, letting you do whatever you wanted to with him.

Certainly, part of this had been previously discussed. The two of you had an established routine, after all. But he was entrusting you with more than he normally did and you recognized that extra vulnerability.

The light of your room hit the silver of the bell around his neck. You took in the collar, the ears. Maybe next time, you could get him to meow for you.

For now, though, you wanted nothing more than to hear that bell chime with every thrust.

You leaned forward, running your fingertips down his cheek. "You're such a good boy," you said, loving the way he seemed to melt whenever you praised him.

You took hold of his collar again, this time pulling him with you as you sat back against the pillows of your bed. You had considered other positions, but you wanted to see that bell as it sounded through the room.

Satan moved where you guided him, but when you let go of the collar, he no longer waited for your direction. He put his lips on your neck, straddling your hips, pressing himself against your cock, his hands roaming across your shoulders and chest.

Satan hesitated, pulling back to look into your eyes. It was as though he caught himself being too eager and now he needed your confirmation.

You had already taken a bottle of lube from your nightstand and now you slathered your fingers with it. You smirked at the way Satan reacted when you slipped them inside him, carefully, one by one. He shivered and the bell tinkled.

You took your time with him until he was whining again, his eyes squeezed shut. When you pulled your fingers out, he didn't wait for anything else. He slowly sank down on your cock and you watched his expression change as he took it all in.

Satan arched his back and your eyes fixed on the brightness of the bell around his neck.

To your great satisfaction, that bell did indeed jingle with every thrust, louder than it had from anything else. Satan was almost creating the sound himself, bracing his hands against your shoulders as he moved himself. But your hands were on his hips, guiding him, and you couldn't prevent yourself from thrusting up into him as well.

The way his moans mingled with the chimes, the way he flung back his head - he was beautiful. There was a soft rumble in his chest and it seemed he was okay with purring if not meowing.

Satan was lost in the sensation of you inside him, but you found it was easy to make him react even more by nibbling a little on his flushed skin. He gasped and clenched down on you every time he felt your teeth pierce him.

You could tell it wouldn't take much more. He had been so good for you and you wanted to reward him. So you took hold of his already slick cock and pumped.

Satan's nails dug into your skin, the bell continuing to jingle as he kept up his pace. His eyes flew open and he looked at you with an expression unlike anything you had ever seen - desperate, begging, needing something more from you.

"It's okay," you said softly. "Come for me, Satan."

It was exactly what he needed to hear. You watched as Satan bit his lip, his body arching as his cum spurted across his stomach.

Satan's body relaxed, the bell no longer jingling as he settled in your lap. He looked at you with heavy eyes. The cat ears were still on his head, but they were askew, poking oddly out of his blond hair.

You reached up to fix them. "Promise me you'll wear these again."

Satan let out a huff, frowning. "I couldn't refuse you even if I wanted to."

You smirked. "Good thing you don't want to, then."

Satan pulled himself up off of your lap and proceeded to give you the most amazing head of your life. It was a struggle not to knock off the cat ears while your hands were twisting in his hair.

Perhaps next time, you would bring a little leash, too. You were curious about how he would react to such an addition. Although he seemed unlikely to do this again when his brothers were around, so you might have to wait. You caught yourself kind of hoping one of his brothers would come home just to hear the consistent jingling of the bell on Satan's cat collar.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#well I don't know how I feel about this variant #but I wanted to try it out so here it is #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me satan smut #obey me satan #om satan #satan obey me #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #om satan x mc #om satan x reader #satan obey me x mc #obey me x reader #misc naughty times #misc writes

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orangelionfurandtaxidermy · 16 days

Note

Hi, I have some fur farm questions if you don't mind answering.

I've seen you mention that Sapphire is questionable. Why is that? Is it bc of the bleeding and CHS? If so, is Mansfield's Pearl also questionable to breed? And can CHS or bleeding issues be bred out or are they inherently part of the color?

On that note, do you have information on other color mutations that are linked to health issues?

Lastly, how does one get into fur farming? It seems really expensive to set up and buy all the foxes, and I struggle to find fur farms to follow online bc of how taboo it is let alone finding farms to buy live stock from, especially of rare mutations. Is finding farms to buy from more of a word of mouth + trust thing? And is mentorship of new farmers a thing or is fur farming too competitive for established farmers to want to do that?

Bonus: feel free to talk about your favorite mutations or anything else you wanna share.

Hi!

Yes Sapphires seem to all carry genetic illnesses. Some look to be only mildly affected, I’ve been following a few foxes friends of me carefully bred after they discovered some of their Pearls are Mansfield Pearls. So far the animals look to be doing ok, so it’s surely not a death sentence.

However I fear not all farms will be so careful about their breeding or using unhealthy animals because they want to get that special color. You’ve probably seen or heard about Mouse, the Sapphire fox Save a Fox bought from Northern Fox and Fur (a fur farm) several years ago.

Sadly Mouse did have severe CHS and had to be euthanised. There are very strong suspicions the farm bred “special needs” animals so the rescue could profit from the sob stories. Eventually Save a Fox bought out the whole farm. As of today it’s still about half filled with foxes because they can’t place the animals anywhere. Every rescue is full.

Mansfield Pearl alters the way in which blood behaves, foxes of this color seem very prone to excessive bleeding. I acquired this female Pearl Cross (suspected Mansfield Pearl Cross) “secondhand” a few years ago from the US. From what I see in the picture, it’s not a place I want to support. However this girl had already been culled for killing her whole litter of pups. When my tanner skinned the fox, they found that the bones were super weak and easy to snap. The skin had an unusual amount of bloodvessels and also the gums and teeth were quite funky. I’m still waiting for the cleaned skull.

In red foxes there’s not that many bad mutations luckily. Pale eyed foxes do experience sensitivity to the sun, we’ve seen them squint in direct sunlight. Mixing Whitemark/Ringneck/Platinum/Georgian (Snow) creates a lethal effect in homozygous form. Platinums can be anemic but it does seem to be worse in certain breeding lines than others. There’s probably others I’m forgetting but sadly there’s not much research being done anymore.

Finding a farm to work with is very hard nowadays. I somehow got myself a contact 5-6 years ago and it’s snowballed from there. The number of farms is very low now though, many of my own contacts have decided to stop farming because it’s essentially two full time jobs for the pay of half a job.

At least here in Europe it’s pretty much impossible to start up your own farm unless you have serious cash. No bank will want to provide you a loan because there’s little money to be made in the industry. Mutation foxes are very rare, most of what is produced is mink fur, arctic fox fur (‘bluefox’) and some raccoondog fur. You’ll find some Silver and Gold fox, but even those pelts are currently being sold in bulk at rock bottom prices to overseas buyers.

A picture of a Smokey Platinum pup for those who read this whole thing lol. This is a newer mutation for us, last year we had one male and this pup is one of his. Can you see the differences between this cage vs the one the female Pearl Cross lived in (she could barely turn around)? The cage in the background gives a better view of the size. There is also a nest box attached.

#vc #vulture culture #orli’s rambling #pelt #dead stuff #fox

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controlmyfeet · 1 year

Text

i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy

matty healy x ex!reader

angst

warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)

a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!

3570 words

it still hurts.

i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.

i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.

but i never know where he is anymore.

i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.

i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.

he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.

lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos.

"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.

"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."

he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."

i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.

i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.

"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.

matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.

he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.

"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.

"sure," i reply shyly.

he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year."

and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.

"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us."

"bea is here too?"

"she is, yeah."

him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.

the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.

he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.

"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.

i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.

it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.

it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.

"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately."

oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.

"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."

even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out.

there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile.

"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."

there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.

"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."

"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.

a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little.

as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.

we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room".

the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.

as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight.

my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.

"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.

"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned

"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."

"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.

pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.

"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."

"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."

"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do.

with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.

"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.

"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.

"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.

he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".

my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder.

i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.

"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"

"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."

he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"

"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude.

"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"

"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."

his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed."

it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.

"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too."

slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.

"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.

"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.

"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.

i shake my head lightly "i don't."

"what is it?"

"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"

"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.

"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."

"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.

"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."

it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.

"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.

"i do, but-"

"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.

"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second.

"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."

"it's not going to work."

"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."

this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.

but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.

okay, just for a little bit.

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