#AND had time to settle in a build a still ALL BEFORE THE FIRST EPISODE??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kabr0ztrousers · 2 months ago

Note

Timid incubus dude who was raised by humans is in for a rude awakening when an experienced incubus abducts him from his college campus and shows him the very monster he is inside! The incubus that grew up thinking he was entirely human refuses the truth, but the experienced one won't take no for an answer. He ties his new protege to his bed and has his fun with him >:) he'll learn to love it.

Its extra fun when the timid guy discovers that their kind can change their dick size and cum amount at will.

Kabr0z Writes episode 64: Inheritance

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: giving fellatio; death mention; drugs mention; alcohol use; transformation;

A/N: I'm gonna localise this a little to the UK, because that's just a little better for my head 😁 So when you see references to uni, just know it's the same phase of higher education.

At least freshers are still freshers

##########################################

Sunday evening. So ends Freshers week. What for most students is the deadline-free week of house parties, heavy drinking and mild debauchery, you spent mostly indoors. You'd made a couple of friends, and did go to one party even if you left early, but overall it was quiet and almost solitary.

It sucks.

You'd planned on maybe hitting one of the local student bars, or even seeing if you could pick someone up at a party one of your societies hosted. Hell, you'd even installed a dating app to find an anonymous cock to suck. The problem is any time you started trying to make progress, your nerve abandoned you and you gave up. You sighed, sitting on your bed and opening your laptop, another evening spent with your dick in your hand. Who knows, when lectures start tomorrow you might find something, or at least someone who could be a bad enough influence on you that you follow through on your fantasies...

Another sigh. You've depressed yourself now. You can't even muster the will to fuck yourself, let alone try and convince anyone else to fuck you. You opened your Steam account and shared at your library, searching for that perfect game that would take your mind off things.

You had a friend request.

Not unusual, you'd given your Steam name to a lot of people over the last 7 days, but you thought they'd all added you already. You shrugged and accepted.

A message.

"Come to the SU"

Normally you'd ignore that, but...

You were already dressed, and you were just bemoaning how you didn't do anything this last week, and there is normally something going on there... Fuck it. You tucked your semi-hard cock back into your jeans, zipped yourself up and slipped on some trainers. Before you could say "be right there" you were halfway across campus, bound for adventure.

The Students Union was possibly the newest building on campus, glass-fronted, chic exposed steel members, with the cheapest bar in town clinging onto the side of it. You joined the line of students waiting to get in, mostly first years, but with some second and third years in the mix, chatting amongst established groups. You stood alone, the balmy duck air on your bare forearms. You weren't the only one in jeans and a band tee, but '80s heavy metal sure isn't the zeitgeist here.

Your phone buzzed, a message from an unknown number "come to the back door"

You raised an eyebrow. You hadn't given your number away, but someone has it. You stepped out of line and started walking around the building. The back door was ajar, a shaft of light in the settling gloom. A look left, right, you stepped in.

Heat hit you. You screwed your eyes against the gust. Dry enough to make your hair frizz and... Sulphurous? You opened your eyes carefully. They were acclimatising to the wind easily. You weren't even sweating.

You were in an office. Not the back of a bar. You could see out of windows overlooking a cityscape in varying tones of Martian dust, rusty and dull.

"Got my messages then? Good."

You looked to your right, against one of the two walls not completely glazed was a drinks cabinet, and a tall thin man in a tailored pinstripe suit with slick back hair pouring amber liquid into two glasses. "Brandy?"

You nodded. The hand that preferred the glass was long-fingered, each one sporting an inch-long razor-sharp nail. You looked at the besuited man, his too-angular face, his black-on-black eyes, his small chrome horns.

"You're a demon" you said, almost to yourself

The demon smiled, "As are you. Though your father didn't want you to know until you were ready. Your twentieth birthday."

You took the glass, setting it carefully down on a coaster as the demon continued "He was discorporated to a permanent end recently, just before your creation actually. I am Ezekiel Harkens of Harkens, Harkness, Darkness and Sphinx. For the past few millennia we've been your family's solicitors, and now it is my bittersweet duty to advise you that you are in fact Baron Agrastax of the black runes. Not technically a laughing mourner, but close enough seeing as you never met your birth parents."

Your mouth gaped as the demon in front of you babbled legalese at you "There's a mistake, my parents are Bill and Martha, they're alive and well, up in Southampton! I'm not a demon, not even a little bit"

Ezekiel handed you a letter and a black iron letter opener. You looked at him as he regarded you, opening the letter. The envelope was empty. "What?"

"That's your proof there, were you a human, a cambion, or even just not the true heir that dagger would be buried in your heart right now."

You still didn't believe it. Demons lie, that's what they do. You're not religious, but you know that.

"You're early anyway. I'm eighteen."

He looked at you "No, you'd been around for two years before we placed you into a stillbirth. Martha lost the baby at eight months, and begged anyone who would listen for a miracle. We obliged. Here's your body now." He passed you a mirror. A young man who looked just like you was lay on the floor behind a bar, a paramedic doing half-hearted CPR as his partner tried to comfort a sobbing girl wrapped in a mylar blanket "She sold her soul to have her baby boy, she didn't say for how long."

The mirror blackened, turning to ash in your hands, swept away by the draft. You should be sad, shouldn't you? You swept your hand through your hair. You felt a pair of horns. "I'm a demon?"

"Yes," he was sat behind his desk now, sipping his brandy "technically an incubus like your father, though that's just taxonomy, the noble title is what matters here."

So you're not just a demon, you're a sex demon? That wasn't on your bingo card.

"Now, there's just one stipulation on the will that I really do need to handle with you" The demon finished his drink, motioning for you to do the same "I need to make sure you're capable of adequately discharging your duties as a minor Baron of Hell"

You swallowed your drink in a single swig. You wished you hadn't, it was good brandy "And what kind of duties would I have?"

"That's the beauty of it" the demon purred, a foxlike grin splitting his features, wider than a human could grin, revealing far too many teeth "Demons of your station have very few duties. You need to remain fighting fit just in case the Blessed come down to try and murder us all, but beyond that it's mostly just about throwing fantastic parties. Of course, when I say parties..."

He was behind you now

"I mean orgies"

He grabbed the hem of your shirt and threw it over your head. You stood, and your jeans stayed where they were, disrobing you in moments as the lawyer in front of you opened his trousers with a gesture.

You paused. As much as it's kinda fucked up to get railed by a demonic lawyer you've literally just met, this felt right. Like a virtuoso approaching a piano, a prodigy picking up a violin. Either that, or the roofies they have in Hell are off the charts.

You took Ezekiel's hands, taking them off his crotch as you knelt in front of him

"I've wanted to do this for years, now fuck my face" you smiled up at him "your Baron commands you"

Ezekiel grinned, grabbing your hair in both hands, "Gladly, my Lord" he tugged your hair a little, taking advantage of your gasp of surprise to stuff his semi-hard cock in your mouth.

You licked and sucked that cock like there was no tomorrow. It tasted like cinnamon and allspice in your mouth, warming and sweet. Ezekiel kept pulling on your hair as you bobbed on the rapidly hardening phallus, varying angle and how hard you sucked on it, hearing what made him groan the loudest, what made the fists clench your hair harder. It hurt a little, but that was part of the fun.

Your mind flickered, thinking a moment about how some people would get their tongues bifurcated to better do this kind of thing. You found yourself wishing you had that. Something felt strange in your mouth, a pressure inside your tongue. Ezekiel pulled his cock out of your mouth long enough for you to touch it. Two tips met your fingers, soft and semi-rough, human, but better.

You stuck it out, wrapping the twin tips of your tongue around the head of Ezekiel's cock and drawing it back in. Two was better than one, you used your new tongue to its fullest, rubbing it over the sensitive parts of his cock as he moaned and buried himself balls-deep into your throat. His cum tasted sweet, and salty, and very alcoholic. You could feel it burning down your throat like vodka, warming you when it hit your stomach in a sticky glob.

You pulled away, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Wetness coated your thigh where thin precum had leaked out of your cock. Your smiled up at Ezekiel "How'd I do?"

He smiled back, one cruel-clawed hand squeezed your face "We're not done yet, let's try that tight asshole next"

He lifted you up, bending you over his desk and pressing his cock between your asscheeks, the tip poised at the hole. You imagined yourself lubing up your ass, and felt as a warm wetness spread around your hole, letting him slide into you.

His claws dug into your hips, not drawing blood, but enough you could feel each and every point as they dug into your soft skin. He fucked like a jackhammer, fast and deep, never breaking rhythm. Your cock was leaking more and more, a steady stream of pre flowing from your tip as you went knock-kneed from the cock rubbing mercilessly against your prostate. He squeezed you, those claws digging in a little more. You threw your head back as your soft cock leaked out cum, thick and flowing in a long rope from the tip of your cock. Ezekiel held his hand under the flowing cum-tap and caught some, bringing it up to your mouth. You licked it off him, tasting your own seed

"You don't ever have to stop leaking if you don't want. It's a little gauche, but you're nobility, it'll catch on"

That sounds like a fashion statement you can pioneer. You focused on the feeling of the cum flowing from you, willing it to intensify, to keep going. It felt good. Your balls stopped aching and descended to their normal resting position, but still a thin stream of white fluid flowed down from you. It wasn't as intense as cumming from being fucked up the ass, but it's a nice buzz

Ezekiel pulled you into him, burying himself in you as he grabbed your cock, jerking it off as he fucked you in small intensely deep movements. Your cum stream thickened and sprayed as he brought you off a third time. Your hole clenched around him as he moaned and you felt hot cum filling you from behind.

"Can I change anything else?" You gasped, you should be spent but you felt like you could keep going forever

"You're made of belief and willpower, to you, physics is a suggestion. Right now, long nails and metal bones are in vogue, but you can be anything you can envision"

You focused on your cock, willing it to grow large and flared, the cum thickening as your plumbing got wider, as your balls swelled up with ever more virile seed

"Bend over. It's my turn"

Being Baron was going to be great.

#####################################

Well, I dozed off before publishing this one so it's going up in the morning. Regular scheduled programming resumes this evening

100 notes · View notes

dovveri · 10 months ago

Text

aftermath

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 6

synopsis: the finale! and then the afterparty :')

warnings: suggestive, cursing, sana kisses a fictional man im sorry

w/c: 2.9k

a/n: surprise! double feature release! bcs theyre both quite short compared to the other chapters and i lwk just wanted to close this series and be done with it - im v happy w and vvvv grateful for all the support ive received w this - it was my first ever published fic and 36.7k words later im pretty happy w how it ends :)) stay healthy and safe!! mwah <3

⊱✿⊰

true to her word, sana ended up telling everyone that she had gained feelings for you during the filming experience. you had wanted to go with her but she insisted it would be easier for those who had gained feelings for her to accept it if you weren't there. so you were stuck at home, twiddling your thumbs watching reruns of the last few episodes anxiously waiting for her to come home.

you're up in seconds when you hear the door click open softly, rushing to greet her.

"hey! how'd they take it?"

sana's a little surprised to see you in such a hurry, but recovers quickly, smiling and tilting your chin down to peck you sweetly.

"hello to you too. they were okay." you help her organise her things as she settles in, "jihyo was obviously eliminated after house visits like i promised i'd do. i still have a soft spot for her but it was easier to talk to the other three when she wasn't there, probably because i could get my entire story across uninterrupted. unfortunately, jiwon decided to forfeit herself after the news which she has every right to do. the producers are going to mark it off as a family emergency and say she can no longer participate in the filming."

"oh... and the other two?"

"momo took it pretty hard, but jacky seemed to already have a clue what was going on. they both agreed to stay on until the end of the season though. i still feel terrible for having to put them through this, especially the last 2 dates with each of them, knowing that they don't have a chance with me anymore..."

"hey, it's okay. they agreed to stay right? they're being good friends right now and feeling bad or sorry for them and not giving it your all for the last few days isn't going to be helpful for them."

she sighs, "you're right. after all this craziness is over i'll definitely try and do something for them."

you smile, pecking her temple, "and i'll help you."

⊱✿⊰

because there were no more group dates, and the season would end after the final 2 dates and the decision sana makes, you weren't really needed for the filming of the rest of the season.

so most of your time was spent at home, lounging around in the pool or in the kitchen while sana was out on extravagant dates not with you, and completely bored out of your mind.

at nights, you'd bound excitedly up to sana and find out what adventure she went on, completely attached to her, even sitting on top of the toilet seat while she was in the shower so you were never apart. the seperation anxiety for just a few hours was definitely something that caught you a little off guard but after spending practically every minute together while filming, combined with your newfound romantic love for her, you couldn't bear being apart from her.

soon enough, the final day of filming came. it was set in this beautiful meadow with flower strands that reached mid-calf. sana was in the most perfect sundress, like she belonged in the meadow, like she was aphrodite herself born not from the sea, but the flowers.

typically, the final choice is snapped together with flashy editing between tension building scenes of sana walking up to both of the final contestants in two different settings. they filmed her rejection shot the day before already, so there wasn't much suspense watching as sana walked through the meadow towards her final choice. not that there needed to be, you were enthralled enough just being able to take in the breathtaking view that was minatozaki sana, just imagining it was you she was walking gently towards.

but it wasn't. and the mindless chatter of the cameras and crew served to remind you that again, you had to stand in the background while the love of your life confessed to someone that wasn't you. no amount of reassurance from her would be able to get the feeling of utter despair out of you.

⊱✿⊰

sana walks forward with a gentle, rehearsed smile.

"hi."

"hey sana."

"how are you feeling?"

"could be better. i'm either about to have my heart broken in front of the entirety of korea and my family back home or i'm about to be able to call the most beautiful girl on the planet my girlfriend. pretty big moment."

sana giggles, "welll... jacky... regardless of the outcome-"

"oooooh that word's not a great sign is it?"

she hushes him, "shhh, just let me finish. jacky... the time on this show, the time you've given me, has been absolutely incredible. from the first time i met you with your charming smile and lively wit, it was hard to forget your dual entrance with eunji, both of you looking absolutely dapper in your suits. and then on our individual date, you dared to go on that hot air balloon at the asscrack of dawn to watch the sunrise with me, and even though i'm not totally sure if you did see it or not, the fact that you went up there, and you overcame that fear, it was so inspiring and courageous of you. it was that moment that really made me realise the kind of person you were, and the courage, and fun you'd bring into a relationship, and even to a family in the future. that is... if you wanted to officially become my boyfriend?" she finishes her piece with a shy smile, a strand of hair falling cinematically over her face while she peers up at him under her eyelashes.

jacky gapes a little, and then he's grinning, hoisting her up in a whoop and spinning her around on the spot, stopping finally to plant his lips on hers.

when they break apart, they both have the widest smiles on their faces, eyes glowing in adoration of each other.

"yes! yes of course i'd be honoured sana! i hope to spend the rest of our lives together until we grow old and wrinkly and our kids have to come dote on us in the retirement home while we annoy them with how unbelievably cute we are even in our old age. and i look forward to watching reruns of our season and being able to show our kids how absolutely gorgeous their mom looked and how incredibly lucky i got being able to be the one at the end of it all!"

there are happy tears and more kisses, hugs, and spins, and with that, the bachelorette season for 2024, is officially over.

⊱✿⊰

"eugh, did you seriously kiss him?"

sana throws the popcorn at you playfully, "yes but it was all planned babe and you're a way better kisser anyway."

"show me."

"oh i will." sana grins, sliding into your lap, pushing the bag of popcorn aside, lips immediately finding yours while the credits for the final bachelorette episode run in the background.

you smile into the kiss, hands finding their place naturally on her waist while her hands cup your face, tilting her head slightly to angle the kiss better.

she breaks away with an over-exaggerated smack that has you rolling your eyes and wiping at your lips in mock disgust.

"so now that the final episode is out... are we allowed to be seen in public together yet?" you're voice is whiny, pleading with her.

she coos, "my little babyy, i thought you weren't big on pda?"

"well i'm not but i'm sick of everyone thinking that you're with someone that's not me!"

sana giggles, "just think how this is for jacky right now. poor eunji..."

you scoff, "eunji will be fine. she's never been one to care about what the public thinks anyway."

"everyone says that but no-one is immune to societal pressure." she boops your nose with her finger gently, "but to answer your question, yes. we'll be able to go public soon i promise. and soon enough the tabloids will get bored of me and move on to the next big celebrity or whatever anyways so it'll be fine. now c'mon, we gotta get ready for the reunion, get your cute lil butt into your fit for the night."

you groan, pulling her back down when she tries to move off of you, "nooooo one more movie?"

sana laughs, pushing you out of her neck, "absolutely not. i'm not gonna be the only star for tonight, this time we're both gonna be the centre of attention, and we cannot be late! i swear if we don't get ready now you're sleeping here on the couch tonight."

"what?! you wouldn't!"

"i would."

"you couldn't survive without cuddles anyway."

"i can replace you with mr. bean."

"not my arch nemesis... i knew winning that bear for you was a bad decision... i'll rip off his stuffed head..."

sana laughs freely, "as if winning was a decision for you. you went back to that stall like 6 times."

"i should've left him there the 5th time..."

"nope! so if you don't want me getting all close and personal with him tonight you're gonna come get ready now with no funny business."

she stands up and you let her, your hands still attached as she pulls you up as well.

you smirk, "what funny business? i never pull any funny business!"

"yeah like the time you fucked me in a bathroom while everyone was waiting for us outside to start filming for national television. and then did it again at a public amusement park like a week later."

"i don't recall you saying no."

"well i'm saying no funny business now."

"okaaaaaayyyyy." you grin, fingers crossed behind your back while you follow her to your room to get dressed.

⊱✿⊰

"y/n!"

"miyeon oh my god!"

miyeon's running towards you with her arms outstretched, easily wrapping them around you the moment she sees you.

you laugh into her, hand still held in sana's while you greet her.

"sana too hi!"

miyeon breaks away from you easily, going in to hug your girlfriend with her everlasting friendliness.

"how are you guys!? i heard through the grapevine that after the filming ended you were finally able to get together officially, even though you kinda had to keep it on the down low so it wasn't like publicly official but it's a step further?"

you laugh, "awwwh yeah you heard right, but now that the show is officially over..." you bring you and sana's intertwined hands up to your lips, kissing her knuckles, "we can say we're officially together!"

miyeon squeals happily, "yay! i'm so happy for both of you. really. no jealousy sana?"

sana laughs as well, hitting miyeon playfully, "noo don't remind me."

"oh i'm afraid it's permanent now. unless they burn every single copy of this season the day you broke my heart is forever recorded in history."

"oh god... y/n... swear to me you'll never show this to our kids."

"can't do that babe. gotta show them their mom in her prime. the sweetheart of korea at one point in her life."

"just one point?"

"sweetheart of mine for my whole life obviously."

sana grins, kissing you cheesily, miyeon doesn't even mind, simply happy to see both her friends together.

"are jacky and eunji here?" you ask miyeon when you break away with a smile.

"i haven't seen them but i also haven't said hi to everyone yet. c'mon let's go!" she leads you into the garden where the party's being hosted.

you and sana are attached by the hip, if one of you has to let go of the other's hand, another body part will eventually replace it, your skin contact is constant, never parting from one another while you greeted all the old contestants.

some were still a little surprised to see that sana had come with you in hand and not with jacky, but she explained what happened patiently, apologising for the confusion.

"jacky! eunji!" sana spots them first, calling them out.

you grin at the sight of them, wearing matching suits, hand in hand, waving them down.

"hey couple of the hour! how are you guys faring tonight?"

"oh says you. finally got the girl jacky?"

jacky blushes, "crazy how things turned out right? just two sets of best friends realising they're in love with each other and not the person they're both dating. kinda lucky it turned out that way so we could fake that finale sana. it's just a shame for momo..."

"yeah i felt terrible especially after all she did with that home visit in japan. but i talked to her after filming ended and we actually get along really well as friends, we have so much more in common and so much more to talk about when we're not in a controlled environment like the filmset!"

"you guys talking about me?"

you turn in a flash, surprised but excited to see momo coming up behind you.

"momoring!"

sana goes in for a hug first, which momo gladly returns with a giggle.

"hi everyone. it's nice to see you all again outside of the filming."

"of course! it's great to see you again too. how have you been holding up?"

"oh alright. i was contacted already to be on the next season of bachelor in paradise which is always just a massive orgy i swear, so i won't be going on, but i heard jiwon accepted a place!"

sana pouts, "i hope jiwon's okay... she's the only finalist i haven't talked to since breaking the news. i thought it'd be too soon to reach out to her after she left..."

"you talked to me right?" momo playfully nudges sana's shoulder, "jiwon's doing better. she's happy for you both, really. and she's getting her second chance so there's really nothing she's complaining about."

sana smiles gratefully, "i'm glad."

momo turns her attention to the other couple, "and jacky, eunji! i can't believe you guys got together in the end! i mean i was pretty oblivious in the house but nayeon always swore there was something between you two. guess she was right."

eunji laughs, "it came as a surprise to the both of us as well. i guess we just spent so much time together in the house that it was a lot like old times and then when seeing each other go off with sana and realising we weren't jealous of each other but jealous of sana, well that did it!"

"this entire thing is honestly just a mess of feelings. i don't know how you guys do it as contestants. i had a hard enough time not even being a part of the competition."

"to be fair you did kinda insert yourself in pretty heavily when you started sleeping with sana."

"hey!"

there's laughs and teasing all round. the night goes on like this, in the company of people you've grown easily close to in a very short amount of time, and holding hands with the woman you fell in love with.

⊱✿⊰

"sana, y/n, can i steal you both for a minute?"

you both turn, surprised to see jihyo there, looking a little sheepish. you squeeze sana's hand, looking to her for confirmation. she nods, clearing her throat, "yeah. sure jihyo."

jihyo leads you to a quieter clearing, then stands in front of the both of you, eyes on the ground, awkwardly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"i just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i acted the last time we saw each other. i was jealous and petty for bringing sungbin and i wanted to throw sana off her game so that she'd admit she was in love with you on national television. i went into it wanting to embarass sana and i'm sorry."

sana sighs, gripping your hand reassuringly, "we know. it's okay jihyo. i'm sorry about how it went down between us. i do hope you find the right person one day."

jihyo looks up then, "thank you. really. and it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me but i am glad the two of you ended up finding each other. she makes you happier than i've ever seen you sana. i genuinely hope for all the best for the both of you."

"thank you jihyo." sana smiles at you then, and you return it softly. "she does make me really happy."

"after some time... maybe you could both come by again? my siblings and my parents miss you lots and i'd like to make it up to both of you for the last time you were there."

"we'd love to. thank you jihyo."

jihyo smiles gratefully, bowing and leaving the two of you alone.

sana sighs, turning to you and looping her arms around your neck.

"you okay?"

she hums, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against yours. "never better."

you giggle, stealing a quick kiss, "the headlines are gonna get pretty crazy once they get wind of the current couples."

"let them have their drama. all i need is you."

"cheesy."

"you love it."

"i love you."

"i love you too." she grins, bringing you into another kiss, sealing the love you have for each other between your lips.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice sana x reader #twice imagines #twice x reader #sana imagines #dovveri

188 notes · View notes

calzone-d · 2 years ago

Text

Always There (Ted Lasso x Fem!Reader)

pairing: ted lasso x fem!reader, mom(ish)!reader x henry lasso

word count: 3.7k (not the most proofread, sorry!)

warnings: henry being kind of sad, reader x henry fluff/comfort, ted being worried, michelle/jake slander, face-sitting, oral sex (f receiving), ass eating (it made the cut), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, anal fingering

a/n: that last episode gave me ideas, so that’s how this started. then sad ted made me horny, and that’s how this ended. if you like michelle/jake you may not like the first part of this. or most of my blog? anyways, hope you like it! my inbox is open as always!

summary: you and henry have a heart to heart before you comfort ted in a way that only you can.

find my masterlist here.

---------

Ted was unusually quiet as you ate dinner. You knew Michelle and Jake being in town really struck a nerve, but he’s gotten good at letting that stress go so that he can enjoy his time with you and Henry all together as a family. As you and Henry talked, he kept quiet as he listened in. You decided to not push it in fear of him shutting down, and of Henry hearing. He didn’t visit as much as you wished he could, so you wanted his time with you and Ted to be as happy and carefree as possible. If you had it your way, though, he’d just go ahead and move in.

Henry had roped you in to help him build a quick lego set before bed. The boy adored you. He had become pretty attached to you, actually. On the couch, Ted watched quietly as you worked together and smiled to himself everytime you’d take over for a while and Henry would lean against you. Henry was obviously exhausted, but he wanted to stay up with you.

Putting him to bed was easy, as always. As he’d gotten older, your usual nighttime books turned into telling each other funny stories and recalling cherished memories. Ted stayed behind to put away dinner while you got Hnery settled.

“So.. fill me in. How do you like Jake?”

“mm.. he’s okay, I guess.”

“just okay?”

“he only really talks to me in front of mom. and when I tell him things he never remembers… he was the one who told me to be more rough at school! I told him someone hurt my feelings, and he said I should do the same back.. I knew it was wrong, dad’s always told me that.. I guess I was just trying to make him like me. Then he was the most mad at me after.”

you’re silent for a moment as you take in henry’s words. before you can respond, the lasso boy is talking again,

“what do you think i should have done?”

the question shocks you for a split second. you’ve always tried to make it very clear you never intended on being a replacement for michelle. you let henry get to know you at his own pace, get comfortable around you at his own pace.

“well, hen.. i think you should’ve done what you thought was right.”

“maybe..”

“what do you wish you would’ve done?”

“i don’t know? talk to him about it, i guess. kinda like dad talked to you about his feelings the other night.”

your eyes widened as you recalled the conversation. ted was telling you about how he felt michelle had wronged him, which you completely agreed with, but it wasn’t a conversation either of you wanted henry to hear. luckily, with how good of a man Ted is, he didn’t really say anything bad about her that henry could’ve heard, but still. henry’s a kid, his parents relationship shouldn’t have been a concern in his mind.

“hun, i’m sorry you heard that. that was an adult conversation. you know your dad loves your mom very much-“

“no, he’s just nice to her. she hurt his feelings and broke his trust, so he doesn’t love her”

honestly? henry was right. spot on, even. he was a smart kid, but your heart hurt at the thought of him coming to those realizations by himself. you knew michelle didn’t play a part in explaining anything to him, and ted tried the best he could, but sometimes it was hard.

“trust is a really tricky thing, hen-“

“not really.”

“how so?”

“i mean, i trust you. remember that time i fell and scraped my knee? i was sad that you only had brown bandaids and you promised me that we could go to the store the next day and get blue ones.”

you nodded along, remembering the day very clearly.

“the next morning you took me to get them. so now i don’t worry that you won’t be there for me, because i know you will.”

“i’ll always be here, bub.”

“i trust dad. i trust my friends ellie and spencer in class. i trust grandma, and grandpa- ooh and your mom! i like her too. she’s always nice to me when i visit. her cookies are so good-“

henry’s rambling made you chuckle and you pulled him in close.

“…but dad doesn’t love mom. i promise i’m right, y/n”

“and what makes you think that?”

“because he loves you, and kisses you, and tells you how pretty you are.”

your cheeks reddened, “well, he does do that”

“and even when you aren’t there! he always tells me how nice you are and how much you love us. mom doesn’t like to talk about dad, and it’s usually about how he talks too much. her and jake get mad when i talk about my dad.”

it frustrated you the way michelle so easily talked bad about Ted, especially in front of henry. especially when she was the one who seemed to have done some immoral things.

“i’m sorry, hen. you shouldn’t be in the middle, ever.. it isn’t fair. if i’ve ever made you feel that way, i apologize.”

henry shrugged his shoulders and played with the hem of your t-shirt.

“s’okay.. it isn’t you. i just wish i could stay with you and dad. dad is happier now, and you guys order pizza every week.”

you cackle before you can stop yourself, “only when you’re here, hen.”

“oh. well still. being here makes me happier. i like your cat, too. she always comes and sleeps with me at night..”

his eyes fluttered closed as the aforementioned cat hopped up on his bed. you brought a hand up to rub at his back over his shirt, something you always did when he was trying to fall asleep.

before he could get too comfy, ted came in. he was dressed in his pajamas and his hair seemed as if he’d been running his hands through it often. he sat down next to you on the bed and reached a hand out to smooth henry’s hair on top of his head.

“you tired, buddy?”

henry nodded.

“well i’m gettin’ there myself. i love you, hen. if you need anything come wake one of us up, y’hear?”, ted said before leaning over to kiss henry’s head. you smiled ad ted’s interaction with henry. the way he was as a dad made you swoon.

“i love you too dad.. goodnight”, henry said as he cuddled back into you.

after ted walked out, you spoke again.

“your dad and i love you so much, baby. even if you’re not here, if you’re ever sad or confused or angry.. or anything, you know we’re only a call away.”

he huffed before murmuring, “wish mom would just let me stay.”

your eyebrows furrowed. you wish he could stay, too. his confession tugged at your heart as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“love you, y/n”

“i love you too, henry bug.”

you scratched his back until his breathing evened out and he was asleep. when you were finally able to sneak away from his room, you tucked the blankets around him and turned off his lamp.

ted was sitting on the couch, hair wet and floppy from a quick shower. he looked so domestic and cozy in his t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, but the smile he gave you when he met your gaze didn’t make his eyes crinkle like usual. it was clear something was up.

his eyes stayed on you as you took a seat next to him and snuggled into his side like henry had previously done to you.

“you okay, teddy?”

he contemplated telling you he was fine for a moment. contemplated just brushing it off like he’d been practically trained to do in his marriage for so long.

“are you happy?”

“beyond happy, hun. i’ve got you, got henry bug, we just kicked ass building that lego set together, too. m’doing just fine.”

ted nodded softly as he mulled over your words. your hand played with a loose thread on his pants until he spoke again.

“just wonder if sometimes i should be doin’ more for you, y’know?”, ted’s words were soft and timid. behind them you could feel the side of him that was terrified of rejection. more specifically, your rejection.

“like what?”

ted’s shoulders shrugged, “dunno. maybe a trip to paris?”

“i don’t want a trip to paris, ted.”

his eyes were sad as he turned to look at you, “where do you wanna go, then?”

you shook your head at him softly. if you listened close enough it almost sounded like he felt you demanded a trip or some grand gesture.

“ted i don’t want a trip anywhere, i want you. i want you and henry, and i have that. i’m happy. with you, our relationship, all of it.”, you paused for a moment.

“have i done something or said something to make you think otherwise?”

ted shook his head immediately. “no, not at all! i just.. i’m used to having to guess.. and even when i guessed, everything was still wrong. i just don’t want you to be unhappy and me not know, o-or bored, or-”

“you’re spiraling, honey.”, you grab both of his hands in yours. “i fucking love you, ted. more than you could ever imagine. henry, too. you two make me so damn happy, and there’s not a single thought that’s ever crossed my mind that has anything to do with splitting us up. we’re a family now, ted. we’ve got something fucking great going. m’not interested in losing that, or you.”

ted chuckles at your firm tone, and although it’s a watery chuckle, it makes you smile.

“y’mean it?”

he sniffles and smiles more when you nod. you use his hands to pull him closer so that you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. after that, you move to his cheek, across his cheek bone, and over to his ear.

“i’m more than happy, hun. more than you know.”

ted let out a content hum before putting his hand on the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss.

this one was more intense, and you swung a leg over his lap as you moved to straddle him. his warm hands found a home on your hips and he gave them a loving squeeze. your lips pressed slow, warm kisses to his neck. soft sighs left his swollen lips as he let his head fall against the back of the couch.

“you make me a happy man, darlin’..”, his voice was low and full of need.

you hummed against his neck in response as you slipped a hand under his shirt, and brushed across the hair on his belly. he let out a soft moan at the way you angled your hips forward to reach the other side of his neck. the sound made you chuckle and you brought your lips to his ear.

“shh, honey. gotta stay quiet for me.”

your words made him whimper, especially combined with the slow movements of your hips against his throbbing cock.

“ohhh-“, his groan was cut off once your lips were on his. his tongue swirled and prodded against yours as you found a rhythm grinding on top of him. you swear you heard him whine when you pulled away.

you bit your lip and smiled at the way his lips chased yours.

“can’t fool around on the couch tonight, baby.. we gotta go to the bedroom, c’mon”

his eager “yes mam” as he got up to follow you only made you more excited.

as soon as you stepped into your room, you slipped out of your shirt and sweatpants, ted mirrored your actions with a smirk.

ted pulled you in by the waist before you could lie back on the bed. his hands were warm against your bare skin and the hair across his abdomen tickled as you pushed yourself up against him. his mouth captured yours in a hot kiss, full of need. his teeth were biting at your bottom lip, tongue swirling with yours as your breathing grew labored.

one of his hands slid up to tangle itself in your hair. he pulled your head to the side as his lips made their way down your neck, and across your shoulders. ted sucked and nipped at your collarbone, leaving marks you hoped wouldn’t be too noticeable tomorrow.

“oh… honey”, you whispered.

ted hummed against your skin as he softly brushed his fingers over your belly and down to your pussy. you knew you were soaked. just the thought of having him to yourself, knowing he was all yours, had you burning with desire.

his thick fingers slid inbetween your lower lips, spreading your slick arousal and occasionally swiping over your swollen clit.

“need you to use me, honey..”, ted’s words were almost inaudible as he moved up to kiss your jaw. a smirk found it’s way to your lips as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“oh?”

“need y’to know i’m all yours. want to make you happy, please baby.”

you pulled him to get on the bed as an idea quickly formed in your brain. ted was always so eager to please, such a giver. he got off on making you feel good and loved being the one to make you orgasm. just knowing he was the only person seeing you and touching you that way was enough to make his cock throb.

you smiled and bit your lip as you instructed him, “lie back, teddy.”

a cheeky smile grew on his face, he immediately knew what was going on. one of his hands reached down to palm himself through his boxers while you straddled him and made your way up his body. by the time you were hovering over his face he was practically drooling in anticipation.

his eyes were lit up once you lowered yourself on him. ted’s arms came up to hold your thighs before he went to work. your eyes locked with his when he took that first lick, and you could tell by the look in them that this was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

he dragged his tongue up and down your folds, moaning at the taste of you. the nose of his you loved so much would bump against your clit every so often, making you whimper.

you watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he let himself get lost in the taste of you. his tongue seemed to never stop, prodding at your entrance, swirling around your clit, weaving through your lower lips. after a few minutes you brought your hands down to stroke at his hair, but your light touches soon turned into you full on grabbing his hair and using it as leverage.

ted admitted pretty early on that he loved when you pulled his hair. it was one of the first “new” things he’d realized he enjoyed after having sex with you.

your finger tugged gently at his thick head of hair and you slowly ground your hips down on his face. his hands moved from your hips to your ass cheeks, encouraging you and helping you move. the tip of ted’s nose pressed firmly into your clit with every rock, drawing moans out of you like it was nothing.

“mmm, ted.. that’s so good, fuck!”, you had to mentally remind yourself to stay quiet. it was a huge change from your usually loud moans and pleads.

as your orgasm built, you realized it was a good thing you were sitting on ted’s face. he was never good at keeping quiet. it was too easy to get lost in you.

when he finally opened his eyes to meet yours, his pupils were blown and his lids were hooded. you kept his gaze as you reached a hand up to pull at one of your hardened nipples, still using your other hand pull at his hair.

you opened your hand up to palm at one of your tits. the feeling combined with ted’s hands kneading your ass had you right on the brink of what you knew would be another amazing orgasm. ted was moaning into your pussy like a mad man, and the only thing more crude was the sounds that came from him putting in every effort to make you fall apart on his tongue.

“shit, oh- i’m right there baby..”

ted didn’t dare ease up on his grip as you came, holding you firmly against his face as you trembled on top of him. he worked you through your orgasm and when you went to get off his face, your thighs felt like they were going to give out.

as you lifted off him, he continued to lazily tongue at your now dripping cunt. he seemed to follow it with his mouth as you pulled away. you flopped beside him, your chest heaving, as you attempted to catch your breath.

ted, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. as you were practically gulping down air, he rolled over and began kissing over the swell of your tits. his face felt wet against you from where he ate you out, and just thinking about the dirtiness of it all had you wanting even more.

your breath hitched in your throat as his teeth scraped lightly over one of the pebbled buds. his lips were red and glistening, making them look even more perfect as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. almost like a chain reaction, the feeling had you squirming underneath him.

by the time he was satisfied, both your nipples glistened with the mixture of ted’s spit, and the remnants of your orgasm.

“you got another in you, darlin’?” his voice was gentle but full of need. his fingers softly stroked the sides of your quivering thighs.

“mhm.. want you deep, though. need to feel you..” your mind was hazy as your words trailed off.

“you know i’ll take good care of you, sweet thing..”

he softly grabbed at your hips, pulling you closer before flipping you over. you were entirely his, completely at his mercy. you needed him so badly you would’ve let him do whatever the hell he wanted.

ted’s hands pulled your hips into him, arching your back in the process. you’d grown needy, and when you softly pressed back onto him it was obvious he’d shed his boxers sometime throughout the night. the hair at the base of his cock was scratchy as it brushed over the skin of your ass. his cock was hot and thick against your swollen pussy, and you could barely form thoughts that weren’t of him.

the feeling of him backing away made you whimper in protest, but before you could speak, his hands were on your ass cheeks. you felt him pull them apart before his tongue collected more of your sweet arousal. ted squeezed your ass as he used it to pull you further into his face, completely burying his face into your most intimate places.

you gasped in surprise as his tongue moved upwards and prodded against your other hole, licking at you softly as his thumb came up to tap against your clit.

“ted, oh my god..”

he barely pulls away, “too much?”

“no no.. fuck please keep going honey”, your words were rushed as you were eager to get his mouth back on you.

just the thought of how dirty it was had you panting and groaning into the sheets. the action itself had your pussy clenching around nothing.

ted’s tongue poked and prodded at the tight ring of muscle as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. his thumb continued to tap and rub at your clit, making you whimper and push back onto his face. the man clearly didn’t mind. in fact, it felt as if he pressed his face further into you.

the hair of his mustache tickled but didn’t deter you one bit. ted’s spit was practically dripping between your cheeks when he pulled away.

words weren’t even forming in your brain, but you didn’t need them because a few seconds later the head of ted’s cock was brushing through your soaked folds. luckily, he didn’t tease you and eased himself in.

taking ted’s cock was always a stretch, but with your orgasm earlier and ted’s love for foreplay, it felt a tiny bit easier this time. ever the gentlemen, he still gave you time to adjust before pulling out and pushing back into you.

“honey you’re- fuck, so fucking tight.”

you could only moan in response as you worked your hips back against him as best as you could. with each stroke, his cock brushed your g-spot before nudging against your cervix. your face was buried in the pillow, because at this point, it was the only way for you to stay quiet.

as ted worked his cock in and out of you, you turned your head to the side and rested your cheek against the pillow.

“ted.. can you- shit- put your thumb- mmf, oh fuck!”

it was like he could read your mind. before you finished your sentence ted had brought a thumb up and was spreading the wetness from your previous activities around the tight ring of muscle seated right above where his cock was stuffed in your pussy.

you knew your only choice was to shove your face back into the pillow under your head as he slowly worked the tip of this thumb in. it was the only way for you to be quiet. ted’s cock hit the deepest part of you while he worked his thumb in and out of your ass.

“that feel good, darlin’?”

what he could barely make out as a “yes” left your lips as moans poured constantly from them. ted’s other hand reached around so he was able to rub at your clit, eager for your impending orgasm.

“shit, I can tell, baby. squeezin’ me so tight, ugh”, his accent had gotten thicker and it only added to the mess of fog in your head.

he worked you perfectly until you were on the verge of an orgasm.by now he knew every tell, every cue.

“i feel you, baby. that’s it.. come on my cock sweetheart, take it..”

ted’s filthy words combined with the perfect stretch of his cock, the added sensation from his thumb, and the tight circles he was rubbing on your clit sent you right over the edge.

the little sense you had left is what kept your face in the pillow as you came. your thighs quivered as ted shoved his cock as deep in you as he could manage before you felt his warm cum fill you up.

he eased his thumb from your ass as he pulled out and lied down beside you, immediately taking you into his arms.

“you okay, honey?”

“i’m… im good.. fuck, ted.”, you panted.

ted’s smile was confident as he pulled you in to kiss your face.

“i love you so much. i’m so glad you’re here for us.. so glad you love us.”, he murmured into the top of your head.

“m’not going anywhere, teddy.”

he hummed in response as you both came down from the post-orgasm high coursing through your veins.

thanks for reading!

#ted lasso smut #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso sluff #ted lasso comfort #ted lasso #my wiritng #sorry any michelle/jake lovers #this blog may not be the place for you

1K notes · View notes

ardbar · 6 months ago

Note

do you think with EMF as champion and parkour civilization no longer under constant threat there with be development of art? like parkour performances and festivals for example? Or the introduction of redstone parkour via the command blocks (since literally any element could be summoned into existence so long as EMF was imaginative enough) I feel like EMF would be better at inventing concepts like that given that he's never wanted for shelter or food. (Being born a master and all so it makes sense he's not great at imagining new buildings and homes). What he has always striven for is harder parkour/ways to progress his skill, so i feel like him being good at imagining new methods for it wouldn't be too big a stretch given he's had time to settle into his role of champion

Okay wait so there’s a lot to unpack here but there’s something I have to say first and this comment isn’t just directed at you but guys EMF was born on the noob level that’s not a head canon it’s fact. I don’t blame people for not knowing this since it was cut out of the second movie but in the episode, “Minecraft but I Discover the HISTORY of PARKOUR CIVILIZATION” Evbo uses the command blocks to see what the world was like before the evil champion took over and he see’s EMF on the noob level with leather boots. I don’t know why this wasn’t included in the super cut but yeah it has somewhat important materials in it and it teased Seawatt going to the parkour fighters level.

Okay little rant over now I’ll address the actual point of your comment. I do agree that EMF would usher in an era of advancement when it comes to Parkour, however, I am reluctant to believe that it would bleed over into the arts. While I do think it would be really cool and of course I’m kinda speaking out of my ass here but I don’t think it would make much sense. In their world basically everything revolves around parkour being used as both a currency and a way to settle disputes, while possible for both to exist I think it would be unlikely. However that isn’t to say it’s impossible given that even their writing is in Parkour it is possible that everything including the preforming arts would make use of Parkour in some type of fashion. I think it would be funny if the battles incorporated this aspect into a dance battle format but with parkour.

Back to parkour advancing I think that would make a lot of sense. The champion before Evbo definitely didn’t want things to change or for people to grow in their skills, if he ever introduced too many new ideas it would greatly increase the odds that he would be beaten, I would view this time period as a type of dark age. Now the Old Man’s civilization I think would be rather interesting in terms of advancement. We know that he did try and introduce new ideas into the world examples being the barrier blocks and totems. However, he was also reluctant to certain changes if we look at him hating the parkour races. Little side note I think this fact is rather strange, I know in canon it’s because people would die from the races, but don’t they die anyway? I forget if it ever says it makes it impossible for people to respawn or is somehow different than other parkour battles but yeah. Anyway I think while amenable to change he could still be stuck in his ways somewhat and scared of radical changes. Now I think EMF would differ from both of the champions we have information about. I especially think EMF would be welcoming to all types of new ideas especially since Evbo has become the god of parkour. I could see him believing that coming up with new ways to do parkour or to shake things up as a type of worship to his god or as some type of offering. I also think that because Evbo is the parkour god he wouldn’t be too worried about anyone doing nefarious things because if anything ever does go wrong than evbo could step in. These two factors I think would lead to a type of parkour renaissance. As you mentioned I do think red stone would play a large role in this. What I think would be interesting about red stone becoming commonplace is I could see their society moving away from impromptu battles. Instead of people making their own course to fight there might be a type of parkour colosseum with prebuilt courses that people either race on or it could be a last man standing type of situation. If this were to happen I could see parkour kind of shifting into the arts, as it stops being a means of battle and more of a spectacle and a kind of honor.

I think a really interesting point you made was about parkour festivals. I wonder how this would take shape. We know that people did do rituals at the parkour temple to try and get the attention of the parkour god to no avail. I wonder if these types of festivals would actually carry a lot of weight now that there is an active parkour god or would they remain a thing of the past brought back as a fun memory, like how we celebrate holidays but without any of the orginal historical value.

These were just a few ideas I had on this matter.

#parkour civilization #headcanon

67 notes · View notes

captain-hawks · 2 years ago

Text

trace the outlines of your dreams

jean kirstein x f!reader

summary: Jean saves you in the midst of a bloody battle, and in the aftermath, you both figure out some important things—the impending end of the world be damned. [set during episode 85]

word count: 4.9k

content: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, best friends to lovers speed run, unrequited love? jk its requited, blood + injuries, protective jean, but UNprotected sex, rough sex, jean's big dick, fingering, praise kink, dry humping, light dom!jean vibes, creampie

In the years that have passed since you first joined the Scout Regiment, you’ve imagined a thousand different ways you might possibly die while bearing the weight of that damned winged insignia on your chest.

A thousand ways you’d go down fighting tooth and nail, bloody and battered but with the knowledge that, at the very least, you’d tried to help make a difference.

But after all this time, you still hadn’t thought you’d make your last stand here of all places: cornered in the narrow space between two looming buildings by three of your former comrades—now Jaegerists—struggling to stand on your own two feet and virtually defenseless.

They advance on you slowly, snickering as your smashed ODM gear refuses to cooperate, not any sort of state to function after how hard you were tackled against the unforgiving brick building mid-air just moments ago. Your gear absorbed a decent amount of the blow, enough for all of the important bits to be irreparably damaged, but not before your head took a hit as well. Warm blood drips down your face, and you blink hard against the wave of dizziness that threatens to overcome your senses.

The futile step you attempt to take backward has you gritting your teeth, ankle barking in pain, protesting that you’re asking any more of it after the impact your legs took when you landed on the dusty gravel. You consider calling out for the others, but you know they’ll never hear you over the chaos of the battle that’s unfolding, the roar of the Titans reverberating deep in the marrow of your bones.

Maybe you’ve finally run out of your share of borrowed time.

The Jaegerists continue to close in on you, snickering at the way you try to steel yourself even in the face of oncoming death, and your mind goes quiet for a moment as you let it settle on one last thought—you hope that if nothing else, Jean lives to see this through to the very end.

He deserves the quiet life he’s always wanted.

“Oh, it’s you.”

A shudder runs down your spine as a voice full of disdain sends your attention careening back to the present.

Floch.

The Jaegerists hastily sidestep as the red-haired man swiftly pushes his way between them, blood that you’re certain doesn’t belong to him smearing across his brow as he runs a hand through his hair and offers you a grin that’s downright feral. With a dismissive wave of his hand, his comrades take their leave back to the roof and into the fray of battle.

“I was upset when I realized that you left me, you know,” he drawls, reaching out to brush his thumb over your jaw.

Your stomach roils, and Floch clicks his tongue when you turn away from his touch, firmly grasping your chin. You can feel the warm, sticky blood his fingers leave in their wake as he continues, “I had a feeling Jean might betray me. But you? How could you?”

The rough feeling of brick digs into your shoulders as he crowds you against the wall of the building, his breath hot against your face.

Floch was always a little too interested in you, even before things really started to go to hell. At least that’s what Jean always grumbled, anyway. So when you finally, briefly, deigned to give him the time of day, if only to help your fellow comrades pull one over on the Jaegerists before making a run for it, you should have known the volatile man would be anything but forgiving when he realized you’d been batting your eyes and swaying your hips to distract him.

“Get your hands off of me, Floch,” you growl, the anger flaring up inside of you at odds with the rapid, terrified beating of your heart.

Floch blatantly ignores you, choosing instead to run a finger over your bottom lip, and the coppery tang of blood seeps into your mouth. You stifle the urge to gag, knowing how badly he wants you to flinch.

“It’s a bit sad…how you’ve always followed Jean like a loyal little lap dog. Waiting and waiting for him to notice you, too fucking stupid to realize he’s obviously in love with Mikasa.”

His words hit you like a slap to the face.

Your knees threaten to give out beneath you under the weight of a truth you know you can’t look away from. Not now that someone’s finally said it out loud.

You really hadn’t thought it would end like this—with a whimper.

“We could have had something, you and I,” he rasps, leaning in so close that his lips nearly brush over yours. “If only you weren’t so busy drooling over Kirstein’s dick.”

“I would have never picked you, Floch. Not now, not ever,” you whisper, eyes boring into his with one last shred of defiance as the world beneath your feet begins to ripple, your body feeling the effects of the blood loss from your head wound.

Something dark flashes in Floch’s eyes. “Kirstein probably won’t even realize you’re gone when I’m done with you. What a shame.”

You suck in a breath as he reaches a hand down to grasp a blade, willing your body to rally just enough strength to surge forward and tackle him. At the very least, you could go down with a fight.

…but when the quiet, familiar whine of a wire and the deliberate crunch of boots along gravel is followed by the one voice that you know the cadence of by heart, you realize that you won’t have to.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

A blade gleams at Floch’s neck as Jean Kirstein steps up behind him, your best friend’s eyes burning with rage. You can’t help the sob that rips from your throat when his expression softens ever so slightly when he steals a glance over at you, though his jaw ticks when he notices the smear of blood the other man left behind on your face.

For all Jean’s hesitation about this leg of the mission, his uncertainty about his ability to take the lives of his brainwashed comrades, you know that he’ll kill Floch right here and right now. You can see it in his posture, the utter stillness of his body. The way this entire moment feels utterly frozen in time as Floch realizes it, too.

And even if part of you wants it, wants to live out whatever’s left of what might be your final days knowing that Floch finally got what was coming to him, you know it’s not worth the risk. Not when shouts have begun to ring out from your friends, urging everyone to get to the ship. Not when you know Jean will hold the other man back with his bare hands so you can escape without him, if that’s what it comes down to.

So it’s the subtle shake of your head that determines Jean’s next move, one that doesn’t involve his blade and Floch’s throat. Instead, with nothing but the element of surprise on your side, Floch is blindsided by the foot you drive between his legs with all your might, white-hot pain blooming from your ankle at the impact. The moment that he drops down onto one knee, groaning, is all that Jean needs to pull you to him.

“Jean,” you choke out, his name caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob as you collapse into him and fist your hands in his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, protectively wrapping one arm around you as he engages his ODM gear and carries you both toward the docks. And despite all of the chaos unraveling all around you, you swear that you can feel Jean’s heart pounding in his chest just as hard as your own.

The next few hours after you set off to sea are a blur, your body still shaking with adrenaline as various sets of hands examine your injuries. Everything feels a little fuzzy around the edges, and the most you can really register is the warm press of Jean against you all the while and the tickle of his hair along your cheek each time he growls at someone to be gentle when you groan in pain as they clean and dress your wounds.

It’s dark out when you finally come to, the fog in your mind parting as you wake up to find your limbs tangled in a scratchy wool blanket. You sit up, the thin mattress creaking beneath you, and rub at your eyes as they adjust to the dim lighting in the room. A small lantern sits perched on a table nearby, illuminating a cup that you can only hope contains water. Exhaling a quiet sigh of relief when you tentatively place it to your lips and confirm your suspicions, you drink heavily, only pausing at the sound of footsteps scuffing outside of the doorway.

“There’s another open room next to Conny’s,” you hear Armin say.

“She’s staying with me,” Jean’s voice cuts in, brokering no room for argument.

You put the cup down and settle back onto the bed, watching as the sliver of light from the outline of the door grows when Jean carefully steps into the room, pushing it shut again behind him.

When he realizes you’re sitting up, he swiftly crosses the room, coming to sit beside you on the mattress.

“You’re up,” he exhales, sounding relieved.

You offer him a small smile, hyper aware of the way his knee brushes against yours, heartbeat thundering when he reaches out to tilt your chin toward him. Vaguely, you wonder if you’re dreaming.

“Your head finally stopped bleeding,” he comments, eyeing the bandage on your head.

Right.

Mentally kicking yourself, you meet his gaze, willing your voice to stay steady as you say, “Thanks for saving me, Jean.”

One of his hands finds its way to your leg, fingers softly curling over your knee. “You know I always will,” he murmurs, echoing the promise he’d made to you years ago when you both joined the Scout Regiment.

In another life, maybe that version of you would be selfish enough to grasp Jean by his collar and kiss him right here and now for those words, pretending you misunderstood their meaning. Words that could mean so much more in another context, were it not for the stark line of demarcation between your feelings for him and the reality of your friendship.

Maybe you’d climb into his lap and try to make him forget all about her.

Even just for one night.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be thinking so hard after splitting your head open,” Jean comments with a chuckle when he observes your furrowed brows, gently pressing his fingertips to your temple as his attention shakes you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long day,” you lie, feigning a stretch for good measure.

Jean drops his hand back down to his side as you shift, looking sheepish. “Long week, long year. You’re telling me. I think we both need a vacation.”

You snort, finally willing yourself to ask, “How’s Mikasa?”

Jean tilts his head to the side at the question, eyes narrowing a bit. “She’s fine. Armin’s a little worse for wear, but he’ll heal up soon.”

You nod, turning your gaze to the corner of the room. “You don’t need to stay in here with me tonight if you want to go and keep her company. I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend looks nothing short of perplexed at the clear insinuation in your words. “...why would I do that?”

“Because you…” you trail off, not sure why it’s so hard to verbalize Jean’s crush to his face.

Jean’s fingers brush along your cheek, urging you to look at him. “I what?”

You huff in annoyance, not sure why he’s making you say it outloud. “You and Mikasa…”

“There’s no ‘me and Mikasa’,” he says plainly.

Heart thundering in your chest, you glare at him before looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment and exasperation. “And there’s not ever going to be if you don’t get it together and tell her how you feel before we all die here.”

Jean clicks his tongue against his teeth, and your entire body goes still at the sudden feeling of his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear, “But she’s not the person I’ve been too much of a coward to tell how I feel.”

What?

“What?” you breathe out, whipping around to face him, the air swiftly leaving your lungs when you realize just how close he is, the tip of your nose brushing against his own.

Jean’s thumb traces your lower lip. “It’s always been you.”

At a loss for words, all you can manage to get out is, “Why now?”

“I used to hope you’d find someone that’d convince you to leave the Scouts and live a safe life behind the walls, something I couldn’t give you.”

Your heart aches at that, knowing that’s the life Jean always wanted, too. The one he left behind knowing how selfish it would be to waste the talent he could offer to the Scouts..

And perhaps it makes sense now—the way he’d subtly tried to find ways to hint that maybe you shouldn’t join the Regiment after all, all those years ago. The conflicted look of pain in his eyes the first time you’d proudly worn the Wings of Freedom.

“I didn’t think I could ever be enough to deserve you,” he continues. “Not even now.”

Hearing the uncertainty in Jean’s voice throws you off-kilter; it’s a far cry from the confident man you know him to be. You can’t help but offer him an incredulous look in return, baffled by the irony of it all—he’s the only person you care to spend the rest of your life with, after all.

Even if this is all you have left—these last few days, hours, moments.

A choked out sound leaves Jean’s mouth; apparently you said that out loud. “So you’re telling me…”

He cups the back of your head, eyes searching your face.

“...I should have done this…”

His other hand finds yours, fingers lacing together.

“...a long time ago.”

A shudder crawls down your spine at the feeling of Jean’s lips brushing atop your own. It’s a tentative touch, one that you press back into between one breath and the next. And as you sigh against his mouth, your own fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair, Jean stops holding back.

Legs hanging over the edge of the bed, Jean swiftly pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around you as his lips chase yours with fervor. You straddle him, basking in the warmth of his body heat pressing into your own, savoring the rough press of the calluses on his fingers—built up from years of using the ODM gear—as he explores the expanse of bare skin on your back where your shirt has bunched up.

You can hardly be bothered to break for air as Jean’s lips slot against yours, toes curling against the mattress when he licks his way inside of your mouth. He groans as the kiss grows messier, your body arching into his at the feeling of his tongue tangling with your own.

Once upon a time, you’d exclaimed that nothing could compare to the feeling of finally mastering the ODM gear, the exhilarating rush of clearing rooftops and treelines with such seamless precision. The swelling elation in your chest to finally understand what it feels like to fly.

It’s a feeling that you’ve chased for years, the feeling that’s carried you through each and every battle to this day.

Kissing Jean feels like that—like flying.

But there’s no anchor here. No wires. No blades at your hips nor enemies at your back.

With Jean’s lips on yours, you float untethered, the weight on your shoulders and heaviness of your heart long forgotten passengers left far below as you soar.

And you let go, freefalling. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll catch you.

He’ll always catch you.

Jean’s lips part from yours to blaze a hot trail along the curve of your jaw, pressing kisses along your neck. Dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin where your earlobe meets the hinge of your jaw, his voice is rough as he murmurs, “I love you.”

There’s a hitch in his breath when you say it back without hesitation—it’s a truth you’ve always known yourself to feel, even if you could never tell him as much. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers digging into your hips, mouth seeking yours out once more.

And as you feel his growing hardness beneath you, you can’t help but pointedly rock into the cradle of his lap, a breathy moan leaving you at the pressure of his cock rubbing against you. The sensation and Jean’s own answering moan draw up memories of all the nights you spent imagining this, face buried against your pillow to muffle the sounds as you fingered yourself to thoughts of your best friend right there in your bed in the barracks.

If your lives still held any semblance of normalcy, maybe you’d prolong this endeavor, taking your time to savor the taste of Jean’s mouth on your own first before anything else, exploring him in bits and pieces.

But with what may very well be the end of the world looming far too close for comfort, there’s no time for patience.

“Can I…do you want to…?” Jean trails off, breathing heavily as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, the rest of the question dancing in his eyes as he’s clearly having the same thoughts as you are.

“Jean Kirstein, if I die without fucking you—”

He doesn’t give you the chance to finish your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss as his hands find their way to your breasts. He’s barely begun to squeeze them before you break apart from him for a moment, slipping off your top and tossing it halfway across the room before grabbing for his shirt as well.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jean breathes out once you pull his shirt over his head, pausing to take in the sight of your supple breasts before him, running a thumb across one of your peaked nipples.

His mouth quirks upward at the way you shiver in response to his touch, eyes blazing with hunger when your lips part, silently begging for more. Jean leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and you thread your fingers into his hair, urging him to continue as he shamelessly begins to suckle at the sensitive bud.

You’re helpless to deny your body’s need to grind down onto Jean’s bulge, your folds pressing into your slick, damp underwear with each thrust of your hips. His lips slide away from your breasts so he can sink his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the feral groan that rumbles in his chest in response to the way you’ve desperately begun to dry hump his cock.

Fingers trail along the waistband of your pants, flicking them open with ease to gain access to the soft, white cotton panties beneath. Jean nips his way up your neck, pausing to suck at your pulse point as he asks, “Are you wet for me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he slips a hand into your underwear, a strangled “oh” the only sound he’s able to offer for a moment once he realizes you’re fucking soaked. He swipes three dexterous fingers along your sensitive slit, pulling them out of your pants to marvel at the sticky mess dripping off of his digits before licking each one clean.

The sight of that alone nearly sends you over the edge, your tight hole fluttering in anticipation. You rock your hips once more, and his eyes glint with a hint of amusement as his hand makes its way back into your underwear.

Jean wastes no time in sinking a finger into your waiting hole, slowly sliding it in and out of you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the underside of your jaw. Meanwhile, you grasp his throbbing cock through his pants, fingers teasing at the wet spot of precum that’s soaked through the material, and he bucks upward into your touch.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, stretching you open with another finger while his free hand gropes your breasts. You move your hips quicker than the diligent thrusts of his fingers, asking for more, and his chuckle drips through you like warm honey as he obliges your request with a third digit and murmurs, “How’s this?”

The sound of him fucking you with his fingers is downright obscene, the digits squelching wetly with each movement. The pleasure mounting within you has your thighs trembling with anticipation. But as you continue to fondle the outline of his cock, all you can think about is how goddamn big it feels.

“Jean,” you whine, incapable of stringing together words to appropriately express the sentiment that you’d really, really like him to fuck you stupid with his dick right now.

He cups your face, the tender gesture at odds with the fingers curling and stroking your spongy inner walls. Jean leans in to capture your mouth in a messy, heated kiss, leaving a string of saliva trailing from your lips to his when he pulls back slightly to murmur, “If you want more, you have to come on my fingers first.”

You’ve spent more time than you’ll ever admit fantasizing the dirty, filthy things Jean might say to you while taking you apart, thoughts that have clung to your mind and sometimes forced you to avoid your best friend out of embarrassment for days at a time.

But nothing can compare to this—the way his rough voice scrapes alive each and every nerve ending in the deepest recesses of your body. The undeniably dominant tone each word is laced with, and the instinctual reaction it viscerally awakens inside of you.

Jean’s thumb presses into your swollen clit at the same time he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down, and the swelling wave of pleasure in your abdomen finally crests. Your entire body tenses as you moan, riding out your climax on his fingers until the overstimulation has your legs quivering for momentary reprieve.

“Good girl,” he praises, slowly pulling his sticky fingers out of your pants.

You don’t hesitate to reach for his waiting cock, eager to feel its thick warmth cradled in your fingers, but he gently nudges your hand away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You huff in annoyance, and he shakes his head, “You’ve got me so wound up, I won’t last like this.”

“You wanna fuck me, Jean?” you coyly ask.

Idly teasing at one of your nipples, Jean’s answering grin is nothing short of wolfish. “You’re so tight, we’ll have to see if you can take me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the hint of challenge in his tone, though if what you’ve felt through his pants is anything to go by, you can’t deny it’s likely warranted.

The bedsheets rustle and the mattress squeaks as you both make quick work of the remainder of your clothes, underwear and pants left forgotten on the floor while Jean kisses and nips his way up the planes and curves of your naked body, his hands exploring each and every dip and crevice with reverence. When his lips finally meet yours once more, his hair tickling your face as he leans over top of you, anticipation curls in your gut at the feeling of what now presses against your naked body.

Your eyes trail down Jean’s chest, fingernails gently scraping over his nipples, and he sucks in a breath as you slide closer to your destination. His thick cock is a sight to behold, hanging heavily between his legs, and there’s not a trace of shame in the way your mouth waters at the thought of him stretching your slick cunt open with it.

As if reading your thoughts, Jean pushes your thighs apart, slapping his fat length against the puffy, sensitive folds of your pussy. Your back arches up off of the mattress of its own accord, and he hums, one hand firmly grasping your hip as the other wipes the flushed head of his shaft up and down your sticky slit.

His name spills from your kiss-swollen lips, your neck muscles straining from how hard you’re pressing your head back down into the pillow underneath you. And when your drenched cunt greedily accepts the tip of his cock as he notches it at your entrance, pumping a spit-soaked palm along the length of it, it’s all you can do not to spear yourself on him entirely.

“So eager,” Jean muses, watching the telltale signs of your thinly veiled restraint as he makes no effort to move any further.

“Jean, please,” you beg, fully aware that this reaction is exactly what he wanted.

He leans down, mouth latching onto one of your breasts, and you gasp as he slides into you just a little bit further while he traces wet, messy circles around your hard nipple. You grasp a fistful of his hair, finding another reason to be thankful for the way he’s let it grow out as of late as you tug his face up to yours.

“Yes?” he asks, a sparkle of mirth dancing in his lustful gaze as he smiles down at you.

“Fuck me,” you pant out, tightening your grip on his hair.

You hardly have time to appreciate the moan that drags out of him before he kisses you hard, plunging the full length of his cock into your cunt, directly to the hilt. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, your walls spasming in protest as all of the air punches out of your lungs. But despite the impossibly tight fit, your pussy greedily takes every inch of Jean’s cock, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Holy shit,” Jean moans as your pussy clamps down on him, so hot and wet he nearly blows his load right then and there. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Fresh arousal dribbles wetly from your entrance and onto the base of his shaft, each and every nerve ending in your body buzzing like a livewire. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, swallowed up within the warmth of your cunt, his balls hanging heavily against your ass. Jean’s careful as he begins to ease out of you, well aware of the way your walls are so desperately choking his thick length.

It’s why he’s surprised when you grasp at the soft strands of his hair once more and breathe out impatiently, “I’m not going to break, you know.”

Jean leans in and murmurs against your lips, “What are you trying to say? You like it rough?”

You nod, running your teeth along his bottom lip, “Yeah, Jean. I do.”

Cock now resting at your fluttering entrance once more, Jean groans as he snaps his hips into yours, burying himself deep in your soaking wet pussy.

“So perfect,” he murmurs as you writhe and keen in pleasure beneath him, your tits bouncing with each thrust as he begins to ravage your hole. “Taking me so, so good.”

“Feels so good,” you nearly sob, head spinning with the pleasure threatening to spill over inside of you.

Jean’s kisses are all tongues and teeth, filthy and messy as his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Come all over my cock, baby. Please,” he groans. “Please, please.”

He’s begging for it, begging to feel your cunt clamp down and gush all over his dick.

He’s so fucking close, balls seizing up, his entire body straining from the effort to bring you to your climax first.

“Come. For. Me.”

And it’s the desperation in his voice that sends you hurtling over the edge, a bright, searing lightning strike of pleasure like you’ve never known before bursting open inside of you as you succumb to an orgasm that leaves you positively boneless.

“Inside,” you gasp just as Jean goes to pull out.

His answering groan is the most sinful sound you’ve ever heard as he plunges back into you, his forehead falling against yours while you both revel in the feeling of your walls spasming and contracting against his cock while he fills your cunt with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky cum.

Jean flops down onto the bed beside you after you’ve milked every last drop of his seed from his softening cock, breathing hard, both of you too spent to fumble for something to clean up the mess of cum that lingers between you. Instead, he tugs you against the warmth of his chest, pressing a gentle assault of kisses everywhere on your face but your lips.

You pout as he pointedly avoids your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth toward yours. Jean smiles, the expression filled with unabashed adoration and fondness so stark that you swear your heart stutters in your chest.

“I’m gonna marry you when this is all over,” he whispers into the scant space between your mouths, each syllable brushing across your lips.

“You promise?”

You can feel Jean smile into his answering kiss.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

#jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #aot #jean kirstein #shingeki no kyojin #snk #jean kirstein smut #dee writes #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein

528 notes · View notes

ythankucaptainmccoy · 24 days ago

Text

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader (The Living Kill Too) Ch7

Well guys here is the next chapter and I hate myself for what I have done. WARNINGS: Character Death, Sickness, Close Calls and Suffering.

Ghost was still warring with his thoughts even a week later. He had been watching small herds of dead moving through the town from his vantage point in a bell tower. Thankfully they were all headed away from the base. You invaded his dreams sometimes as he replayed the event of you kissing him, but his mind would sometimes go past just kissing and he would wake up with more problems than when he went to sleep.

If he learned anything it was to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable situations. During the beginning of the week he could go back to sleep, but then he took matters into his own hands literally. He had another week of watching for large herds and as he scanned the area he saw a flicker of light a couple streets over. It was one of the men signaling to him. He signaled back with his own light for the all clear of no herds or other humans in the area.

They signalled back and the light disappeared and he watched the silhouette of the scout making their way back to base. The sun had gone down a few hours ago as he relaxed into the corner where he spread out a sleeping bag. Winter was fast approaching and the wind was rattling through the building. He had been in cold conditions before this was no different as he settled in to sleep.

At the base you were in Ghost’s room as you tried to sleep. The cold seeping into the room wasn’t unbearable, but it reminded you that you were alone. It didn’t help that you had been having nightmares the whole week. It was starting to take its toll as you had dark circles under your eyes, but the leg was healed enough where you could walk and run again. You had been very helpful to doc as people were getting sick with the temperatures outside fluctuating.

He was trying to save as much medication as you did research on medicinal plants. An older woman had a greenhouse full of medicinal herbs and plants. It was becoming useful and she was teaching you what could be used to heal or used as a treatment. You hated to admit, but you missed Ghost. As much as you didn’t want to admit you had grown close to him and he seemed to understand your reluctance to trust some of the men around the base.

Josie had come by when she found out what had happened to you and was so upset that you were willing to forgive Ghost. “It wasn’t like he did it on purpose”, you explain. “I get that it was an episode, but he should have stopped after that first hit”, she huffed. “Sometimes nothing you do can help someone going through an episode. Sometimes interacting with them makes it worse”, you explained. “Well it was a dick move to just up and leave like he did”, Josie countered.

“I don’t take it to heart Josie. He probably needs time to reflect and get back in a good head space besides I’m still indebted to him for what he has been doing for me”, you respond. “Like what? What could make this all okay and you not take it to heart”, she argued. You looked around the room to make sure no one was listening in. “He has been letting me help with the torture of our prisoner”, you calmly whispered. Josie’s eyes went wide as the realization of what you had just said sank in.

“Why are you whispering?”, she asked. “Because everyone around here thinks Ghost is torturing him for information about a gang of raiders. I don’t want it getting out that I… well you know”, you said. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that word not even now lest the images of what happened flash in your head. Josie didn’t say anything after that other than watching you to see if you would say anything else.

The next couple of weeks went well and you continued to help in the medical wing. Your back had been healing and there would certainly be scars from the glass at the hospital that you and Ghost had raided. The days blurred together but eventually Ghost came back. He had a cough that he swore was just from not having enough water, but you knew better than that. You had watched him when traveling and he was always prepared.

He looked so tired and worn out, but kept gruffing at you that he was fine. Later that night when he fell asleep you felt your way to him and felt his head. He was burning up and there was no way that he didn’t have a fever. You quickly made your way to the door and pulled your blindfold off. You ran to get Doc who went in while you waited outside Ghost’s door. “Of all the symptoms he has I would say he has Strep. His fever is very high and I want to start him on IV antibiotics right away. Worst case scenario is his throat starts swelling to where we would have to intubate”, Doc explains.

“He won’t want to be in the hospital wing. Can we set everything up here? Besides I can isolate myself here with him so no one else other than myself risks getting sick in case it’s not strep. Someone can drop supplies off and knock”, you relay. “That would be for the best. I’ll go get all the supplies and be right back”, Doc says. The only problem now was you would have to see his face in order to care for him. Doc made it back and set everything up with your help and not once did you look at his face.

“Alright everything is set up if you need anything I’m going to leave this pen and notepad. Just leave the notepad by the door. I’ll have someone come by every hour to make sure you don’t need anything. I’ll bring meals by and check on him at those times”, Doc explains. “I can do that”, you respond. Doc takes his leave as you turn back to Ghost. You still haven’t looked at his face, but it will be inevitable to continue on like this. You war with yourself about looking, but finally give in.

The first thing you notice is how flushed he looks, then you notice the scar on the top lip near the corner and some scars that went from his jaw to his cheek on his left side and a thin long scar on his right cheek. Another small thin scar across his forehead. His light brown hair sticking up in some spots and his lashes that were very light in color. Sharp jawline and he was very handsome in your opinion. He started to shiver and you knew it was possibly from the IV bag being cool so you pulled it from its stand still keeping it elevated and placed it inside your shirt to warm it a little.

Once sufficient you placed it back on the IV pole but noticed he was still shivering. You made a decision and tried to wake him. “Ghost”, you called softly. It took several more times before his eyes slowly fluttered open. “Sit up just a little” you tell him. He struggles a little but does as you ask without complaint as you slide yourself in to sit up against the headboard. Once you're settled you help him lie back against you. The back of his head rests on your sternum and he is sweaty, but hopefully you can keep him warm like this. His shivering continues for a little while longer until it slowly ebbs.

You absentmindedly start combing your finger through his hair and hear a faint sigh. He coughs every now and again, but his breathing evens out. He sleeps and now that you're stuck you have nothing to keep yourself entertained. You fall asleep after a couple of minutes and don’t wake until you hear the door start to creak open. You snap to attention and cover the view of Ghost’s face from the intruder.

You relax when Doc’s face comes into view. He makes his way over as you try to adjust your aching back to no avail. Doc checked him over as you silently watched, but then as he went to look into his eyes a hand shot up grabbing onto Docs wrist. “Ghost it’s okay you're sick. Just relax and let him finish up his work”, you soothe. It takes a few more moments for him to register and let go. Doc finished up and told you that the fever was down and that he was going to go get some food for the both of you.

Ghost was mumbling something about a shower when Doc left. He started to get up when you pulled him back to you. “I need a shower”, he groused. “Not in the state you’re in. I shouldn’t have been able to pull you back. You’re still weak and only been on antibiotics for a few hours”, you chastise. He huffs then starts to cough as he lurches forward. He starts to heave as you reach for the trash can near the bed. He empties what little he has in his stomach as you rub his back.

He groans as you place the trash can back and reclines back into you. “Ya’ shouldn’t be in ‘ere”, he grouses. “Someone needs to take care of you and I don’t think you would want to be in the hospital wing”, you respond. His fever is picking up again as a shiver takes over his body. “Don’ need ta be looked after”, he coughs. He shivers again as you place your hand against his forehead. “Yeah sure you don’t”, you respond.

He falls back to sleep as you wait for Doc to return, but time starts to fly by as you start hearing panicked screams. Ghost stirs at the sound of the sirens on base going off as he tries to get up. “No you’re sick. What does the siren mean”, you ask getting up from the bed. Before he can answer, Soap pokes his head into the room. “Lass ya’ need to stay ‘ere and barricade yer’ door”, he says. “What is going on?!”, you panic.

“Some git was bitten and went back to the barracks. We ‘ave an outbreak inside the base. Barricade yer door until one of us come back. ‘ere take this”, Soap says, handing you a handgun. You don’t have time to say anything as he takes off in the direction he is needed. You do as he said and take the heavy wooden desk and place it in front of the door. The window is high enough up that the dead can’t reach it so you don’t bother with it.

You grab the chair and set it down beside Ghost’s bed and sit down. You check the gun making sure there is one in the chamber ready to go. You wait for several hours as you hear gunfire every once in a while, but you notice it’s time for another dose of antibiotics. Ghost had been in and out of consciousness asking if the threat had been taken care of yet. Unfortunately it had not as you prepared the syringe with the antibiotic.

He stirred as you checked the IV bag and concluded that it would last until later tonight. “Before you ask no they haven’t come to tell us it’s clear”, you relay. “What the bloody ‘ell is takin’ ‘em so long”, he grouses. “I don’t know but every once in a while I will hear gunfire”, you explain. “Must be sweepin’ n’ clearin’ “, he guessed. The sun continues to go down as the gun shots start getting fewer and fewer.

You must have slipped into a dreamless sleep and when you wake up Ghost is sitting up against his headboard. “IV’s almost out”, he muses. You look and he is right, but nobody came to alert you that it was alright to leave the room. “Do you have any weapons in here?”, you ask him. “Yea’ a rifle and a couple knives in the locker”, he gestures to the locker in the corner. You open it and grab the rifle he had talked about and some knives. You handed the rifle and a knife to him and took the other knife.

“Here I’m going to run to the infirmary across the way to get you what we need”, you tell him. “Ya’ shouldn’t go out there alone. Besides ya’ have ta’ move the barricade”, he explains. “Not if I go out the window”, you explain. He tries to fight you on it, but you are already opening the window and hoisting yourself out with your pack on your back. You slowly make your way across the base to the infirmary using the buildings and crates as cover.

So far it has been clear, but that doesn’t mean anything as you slip into the infirmary. You had just made your way down the familiar hallway when the power flickered. The generators must be going if that’s the case and you would have a small window to get what you needed and get out. You saw movement at the end of the hallway and recognized the back of one of the nurses. You were about to call out to her when you noticed the twitching in her limbs and the jerky way she moved.

You ducked behind the small nurses station as you tried to pull yourself together. You could shoot her in the head, but guns were loud and she may not be the only new dead head in here. You hoped she would move and kept peeking around the desk to see if she would move, but no such luck. The power flickered again and you panicked a little as you made your decision. You crept up behind her with your knife in hand and without hesitation sunk the blade into the base of her skull.

She shuddered and collapsed as you pulled the knife out. You slinked closer to the room you needed and rushed to the cabinet, but it was locked and you cursed to yourself. You could break into it but that would be loud and you had no idea if there were anymore deadheads in the building. Ghost was in need of the fluids and more antibiotics so you made your decision. You grabbed an old fire extinguisher off the wall and hit the lock.

The sound was deafening and you cringed as you listened, but didn’t hear anything. You decided it was safe and hit it several more times until the lock gave way. You pulled the pack from your shoulders and filled it with as much as the pack would allow you to shove in it. You turned towards the door when you heard crying. Not just any crying a small child's cry and then the shrieks of the dead. You went running to find the source knowing the only child here was Jack.

When you got there five recently turned deadheads were at the door. You raised your gun as the crying inside the room got louder. You fired into their heads with precision and made it to the door where you knocked. More shrieks were coming from down this hallway and when the door opened Josie was there holding a wailing Jack to her chest. “Come on we don’t have time”, you told her.

You both started running as the lights shut off completely. You both had just burst through the doors when a deadhead launched itself at Josie. She fell to the ground as Jack rolled out of her arms. You fired at its head and in a spatter of blood another knocked into you. The gun was knocked from your hand as Jack wailed. You pulled the knife and sunk the blade in its temple and scrambled towards the gun and aimed at the one getting too close to Jack.

It fell as you turned and fired at the other one on top of Josie. Josie picked Jack up and was running behind you. You looked for the open window and spotted it. “We are almost there. You will have to put Jack down so I can help you up. There is a chair on the other side to stand on and I will hand Jack to you when you’re ready”, you called out. She nodded and did as you said as soon as you hit the side of the building.

The deadheads were gaining as Josie shimmied into the window. She called for Jack as you lifted him up and he disappeared into the small window. You turned and they were too close so you fired into them. You killed the ones closest to you and then you backed up enough for a running jump and pulled yourself into the window as gunfire erupted outside. You pulled yourself back up to see Soap, Gaz, Price and some other men take down the rest that had been chasing you.

You closed the window and breathed a sigh of relief going over to check on Ghost who was still holding onto the rifle. Josie was checking over Jack as you piggybacked the original IV bag and pulled some antibiotics for him to take. The lights were still on in this building as Josie took Jack into the bathroom to check him and clean him up. “What’s happinin’ out there?”, Ghost questioned. You told him what happened and that Soap, Gaz and Price seemed to be handling it with some other men you didn’t recognize.

He nodded and you were about to say something else when a scream followed by wailing sobs met your ears from the bathroom. You ran to the bathroom and Josie was sobbing as she clung to Jack and kissed his head. Jack was crying too when you felt a presence behind you. Ghost was watching, holding onto his IV pole. “What’s wrong, is he hurt?”, you ask frantically. Josie shakes her head and that’s when you see it and it feels like a bucket of ice water was dumped on you.

There is a bite wound on Josie’s arm as she hugs her son to her chest. Ghost freezes as he spots it too and you know what this means. “What do we do”, you say more to yourself. “You know what has ta’ be done”, Ghost says. “We don’t know that she will turn”, you try. “We can’t take that chance”, Ghost replies.

“No… you have to..to..k..k.kill me”, Josie sobs. “You can’t give up. Jack needs you”, you panic. “I could..hurt him..I don’t want to turn..please”, she cries. “What if we wait and see if you start with the symptoms”, you try to bargain. Ghost shakes his head as you are trying to buy time. Josie takes some time mulling over what you said and agrees. The fever usually sets in within three hours so you take Jack from her arms and take him back to the room.

Ghost sits on his bed watching through the open bathroom door to keep an eye on Josie. You keep Jack occupied as the time ticks by and soon you hear Josie groaning in pain. The fever starts setting in and she looks horrible as sweat clings to her pale body. “I want..to say goodbye”, she tells you. You go get Jack and let her hug him and kiss his head. “You have to be strong now baby”, she said, petting his hair.

They hugged for what felt like ever and then Josie looked at you. “If Maria and her husband are still alive I want them to take care of Jack. They wanted kids but she can’t have kids and she loves Jack. I also want you to be… the one to… take me out”, she whispers. You nod as you make your way back into the bedroom. You move the barricade and peek to see the hallway empty. You go back into the bathroom to help Josie up and out into the hallway.

You help her sit down on the ground as you go back inside the room to grab the handgun. Ghost stops you by grabbing your hand wrapped around the gun. “You’re shakin’ luv. Want me to do it?”, he asks. “No, she wanted me to do it. Just keep Jack busy”, you state. You walk back out into the hallway to Josie who looks even worse than before. “Ready”, you say. She nods as you raise the gun level with her head. “It’s okay”, she rasps. “I’m sorry”, you whisper as your finger pulls the trigger. Her body falls limp and you slowly make your way back into the bedroom.

#cod zombie au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

20 notes · View notes

stunnajitj · 3 months ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ 𝙀𝙉𝙅𝙊𝙔 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎𝙀𝙇𝙁 𝜗𝜚˚⋆🍓 ²

•　ＳＬＯＷ　ＵＰＤＡＴＥＳ　•

Re-upload

"𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞..."

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧 🍓- Kevin Nash X Black FemOC! (Angela)

/)/)

( . .)

( づ🍓 - After years of being single, Angela finally decides to take a leap of faith and goes on a set-up blind date made by her friend Sherri Martel. She soon is surprised, meeting six-foot-eleven, WCW superstar, Kevin Nash. How will the night end?

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 ⚠ - 18+/NSFW - Set up blind date - They are at a bar so drunk people and alcohol (Wine) will be included - Curse words - Pet names ("Cheek bones", "Sex pot", "Sexy", "Beautiful" , "Sweetheart ", "Babe" and "Baby Girl") - Kissing / Tongue kissing - Oral (Female receiving + fingering) - Backshots - Dirty talk - This imagine is damn near like an episode of a tubi Shonda Rhimes show…

- 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙮 🍓- WCW (1997)

- 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩🍓- 5.9K

↳ ¹⁰ : ⁴⁴ ᵖᵐ | ANGELA

Angela was filled with mountains of anxiety as she slowly entered the lively Grails Yard bar and restaurant. The warm, loud glow of the lights, along with the loud music and crowded people added on to the nervous nausea that was already settled in her stomach.

It had been years since Angela had been on the dating scene, and while being single for so long didn't mean she was unattractive-It meant after a series of failed relationships and situationships with men who still acted like children, she had to spend some time alone and focus on herself - her career, own happiness and self-love.

But now Angela was thirty-nine, and she finally wanted to find that kind of love and happiness others feel. To crave someone that would spark some joy and excitement in her life.

So after months and months of coaxing from her friend Sherri Martel, Angela finally grew some balls and put some trust in her friend to go on this date with a man that was pacifically chosen for her by Sherri.

Usually, Angela didn't pay attention to Sherri's shenanigans because she tried this before. But there was something about this guy that Sherri kept pushing and pushing that made Angela change her mind.

Once Angela stepped deeper into the place, the sharp aroma of strong alcohol, grilled meats and fried appetizers filled her nostrils. And looking around at the casual scene, she couldn't help but feel a bit overdressed in her sleek, white Versace dress and black and white blazer.

She thought that the designer dress gave a nice first impression, hugging her curves and showcasing her body in all the right places.

Multiple people were crowded in the seats in the restaurant area enjoying themselves, drunk couples were also pressing against each other at the bar with provocative dancing and make-out sessions that were going on and on. Groups of random people danced around the place to the rap music playing in the bar's speakers, and to top it off, there was a huge group of men that crowded around the box television at the end of the bar. Watching the latest football game.

So, it looked like a great place.

Angela scanned over the crowded place, seeing no sign of the man Sherri told her to look for-

Very tall, Blonde long hair, and Deep blue eyes.

Kind of poor detail but she figured that Sherri didn't want to spoil too much about the man.

But after minutes of looking, Angela was about to give up hope until she noticed a humongous figure sitting at the bar under a small stool next to the crowded men that were watching the game.

And the man she was looking at, was the biggest man she had ever seen...Even sitting down.

His hair was long, golden and fell in soft waves over his broad shoulders matching the same color as what looked like a beard. And from afar his jawline looked sharp, like it was carved from stone.

The man was also wearing a fitted blue jean jacket over what looked like a simple black shirt, paired with relaxed-fitted blue jeans that accentuated his athletic build. His eyes looked bluer as she continued to squint and he seemed focused, mostly out of tune as if he was also searching for someone himself.

Angela slyly bit her lip, remembering what Sherri told her to look for again:

Very tall- check

Long blonde hair- check

Deep blue eyes- check

Was this the guy she was being set up with?

She didn't want to be wrong but, how could it not be? He checked everything she was supposed to be looking for.

Angela took a deep breath, soothing down her blazer down once, to gather enough courage for a successful approach or horrible humiliation.

In this kind of setting Angela would usually meet a friend so assertive and somewhat extroverted would seem like the way to go. But, in this type of situation what would she say? It felt different because she never approached man at a bar like this. It felt she was running into straight abomination.

While shakingly trying to navigate through the crowd, she passed through the restaurant area, offering polite "excuse me's" to the drunk people in her way.

But no matter how crowded it got, her eyes still remained focused on her target.

She moved closer, seeing the drunk people around the huge man babbling, trying to get some type of engagement with him. But he seemed to remain casual, ignoring them and speaking to the bartender in front of him.

Then suddenly, Angela saw his head perk up, as if he was sensing her presence approaching.

The world behind her started to fade, and time began to move in slow motion once when she saw a fresh pair of blue eyes, followed by a charming smile spread across the tall man's face.

It felt like a romance movie, just missing the fan to make his hair go wild.

Angela was finally close enough to approach him, her body growing stiff as she stopped a bit by his chair. "H-Hello, Kevin?" she managed, to let out.

The man smiled brighter, flipping his hair over his shoulder casually. "Angela, right?" His deep voice boomed, louder than hers and the bobbled noises around them.

He quickly turned around before Angela could respond, going into his wallet to place a freshly rolled twenty dollar-bill onto the bar island.

Her eyes were stuck wide open as he was now standing up tall from his stool. He looked way bigger up close, and he graciously towered over her five-foot- four frame without trying, like a tall beanstalk.

Others around watched the two with their own pair of widened eyes and slurred whispers falling from their lips.

"Yeah, I'm Kevin" he spoke again, extending his large hand for a shake.

His hand looked so large compared to hers, so rough. Clearly the biggest hand she's ever seen, now be able to feel.

Angela carefully placed her smaller hand in his, immediately feeling his grip go a little firm once they connected.

"Nice to finally meet you, Kevin." She replied, clearing her throat a bit to remain relaxed. "It looks like you come here often. People are staring and seem to know you."

Kevin chuckled, a low, gripping sound that sent a small shiver down her spine.

"Eh, they only know me from Tv." Kevin lightly shrugged. "And most of the time when I'm off the road I'm what you call a slight, home body. Partying and going out is more of an on the road type of deal for me." He continued, placing his jean jacket back over his body.

"But a few days ago, I suddenly got a call from Sherri, who I haven't seen or heard from since the Vince bullshit. We chatted n' she was tellin' me a little bit about ya' and from what I heard..." He continued, leaning forward with his head down a bit to analyze her more.

"It looks like I hit the jackpot. At times like this, I could use a bit of good liquor and great company."

Angela's heart was now beating wildly, echoing like the Grinch's heart when it finally grew three times its size. "U-Uh yeah, but I wouldn't really say I'm much of a-"

"How about we get away from these jabroni's and I take you to that restaurant over there so I can hear you more clearly?" Kevin suggested, as the echoing sound of the drunk men's cheers behind them became more aggressive by the minute.

Angela took a peek over, noticing them jumping and aggressively hugging each other with beers and glasses still in hand. She lightly chuckled, giving a small nod as she tilted her head up to meet his sky-blue eyes again. "Yeah, that'll be lovely."

With a quick, returning nod Angela felt his hand quickly swallow hers, followed by an immediate grip. She noticed how he quickly took the lead once they started to move and he made sure she stayed right behind him, adding a tiny bit of pressure every time they went through tiny spaces among the crowd.

Instead of saying regular polite "excuse me's" like Angela did so, Kevin told people to "move" or "back up" so the two could have a clear path. Even though people were making way for the large man anyways.

Making it to the restaurant area, it seemed to have more of an intimate feel, with "No Ordinary Love" by Sadè playing through the ceiling speakers. The tables were also decorated with clean white tablecloths, and fake flowers with fake candles in the middle to top it off.

"Any drinks you get, types of food, whatever, is on me tonight alright?" Kevin spoke as he led the two towards a table close to the back.

Angela raised an eyebrow, feeling his hand release from hers so he could pull her chair out. "Really?" she replied, trying to hide the flattery as she took a seat.

It was going to be a long night and looking at the drunk people around, Angela was sure that at least one drink would get her like them. But alcohol is expensive and once people get more and more drunk, they grow an appetite, which can also get more and more expensive.

It was their first time meeting, and she heard him point out that he was on television and on the road, so she didn't want to seem like one of those women or give him a different kind of vibe no matter what his career was. "You don't really have to, Kevin it's alright-"

"Trust me, Angela I want to." he cut in, placing himself in the seat across from her.

"I would never leave a hot shot like you to pay for yourself. Plus, it's our first date, that would be a dick ass move."

Angela couldn't help but chuckle and his wordplay, along with his looks was already making her feel butterflies. But she had to quickly shake it off because she had to remember that she couldn't look easy, and she didn't know anything about this man.

"Thank you, Kevin, that's really nice of you." She warmly thanked, placing her purse by her feet under the table.

It didn't take long for a waiter to come to them and once he approached, he seemingly had his hands full. One hand holding a bottle of 1996 cloudy Bay wine - a wine from New Zealand and in the other hand, two empty wine glasses.

Angela eyebrows furrowed, sending a side-eye towards Kevin's direction, who had a slight smirk on his face.

She didn't even have time to look at the menu. How could a drink already be here?

"I saw you when you came in." Kevin cut, snickering at her expression, "I remembered what to look for to find ya and when I did, you seemed a bit nervous so I asked the bartender guy what kind of drink he thought would be best to set the mood" he continued

"I hope you like Sauvignon Blac, he surprisingly picked one of my favorites."

Angela's expression shifted to one of genuine shock. It wasn't just about the excellent wine choice that surprised her but also the way this man seemed to have everything put together so far on the outside.

His observation of her nervousness, the drinks ordered before they even said hello to each other and his insistence on paying no matter what—it all seemed so gentleman-like, unlike years ago. Most men she delt with before were self-absorbed, often focusing on themselves and one thing.

"You still seem a bit nervous: It's okay if you are, Angela" he calmly spoke, his haze flickering towards the waiter, who was now expertly pouring their glasses.

Angela took a deep breath, feeling her shoulders relax slightly. "I am a tiny bit nervous, yes." She admitted, her voice softening a bit. "I'm sure Sher told you that it's been a minute since I've been on a date, so I was just a bit taken back when I came in."

Kevin's eyes softened, and he leaned in slightly, elbows relaxed onto the table as his expression was sincere. "Well, let me apologize if I'm doing too much or anything. It's been a minute since I've been on one of these damn things too, so I guess I got wrapped up in my own nerves trying to impress."

The admission brought a new rich warmth to Angela's cheeks. It was surprising to hear him admit that he hadn't been on a date in a while, especially given his Greek-Godlike features. But, knowing he was feeling the same way as her made her feel comfortable and the atmosphere between them feel more intimate.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed." She replied, a comforting smirk plastering along her face. "You seem like you've done this a million times,"

Kevin chucked, shaking his head at her sudden topic change before smirking and reaching for his glass. "Eh, I've had my share of women in the past and dealt with shit, trust me beautiful. But tonight, and hopefully more nights, I'm only focused on you, and I want you to enjoy yourself with me."

↳ ¹ : ¹⁹ ᵃᵐ | ANGELA

The couple spent hours lost in delightful conversations, while drinking a bottle and a half of wine and indulging in the best Mozzarella sticks Angela had ever tasted. Time seemed to slip away as their tipsy discussions flowed effortlessly and Angela was truly enjoying herself.

She finally let herself loose, initiating numerous conversations, punctuated by bursts of laughter and bold questions that flew from her lips the more she sipped. Angela could feel a deeper connection forming with each story they shared about their backgrounds and, day to day lives.

She learned that Kevin was passionate about two things: wrestling and his two-year-old son. He spoke with true warmth in his voice when he mentioned his boy, sharing stories and a picture in his wallet.

But once she started to ask shallow questions about his divorce, the answers were pretty brief and stern. He explained a tiny bit about how he and his ex-wife had been high school sweethearts who simply drifted apart as years passed. And once she became pregnant, a divorce was already settled.

And that was all he explained.

She asked no further questions beyond that, appreciating that he was so open. The fact that he spoke about his ex-wife without bitterness and kept the answers short and sweet was actually nice and it showed how mature he was and that he still had respect, which she also found more attractive.

"Angela, you okay sweetheart?" She heard Kevin's voice ping, making her snap her attention back towards him. "Yeah, sorry I spaced out a bit." she quickly apologized, taking a sip of her fourth glass of wine.

Kevin let out his signature smooth, low chuckle before leaning back in his chair. "It's okay, I paid while you spaced out so we can head out. It's getting pretty late anyways," he calmly spoke, holding the folded receipt between his fingers.

Angela's eyes lit up as she eyed the folded paper. "Oh! Okay, how much-"

"Don't even ask babe, I told you I'd pay and that means you're knowin' what's on the bill either."

Angela rolled her eyes playfully, taking the final sip out of her glass. "Really? You won't even let me take a peek at how much it was?"

Kevin calmly shrugged, standing up from his chair, "Don't act shocked, I'm a man of my word. Besides, it's not like I can't afford how much is on this paper anyways."

"Fine but next time I'm paying, Kevin" She insisted, tilting her head.

"Next time?" Angela heard him echo with an eyebrow raised. "You already plannin' a second date with little ol me?"

"Little wouldn't be a way to describe you but yeah, maybe I am" Angela replied with a coy smile. "Tonight seemed to go pretty well on my end."

Kevin's expression shifted like a thunderbolt and his eyes widened like he was either full of impression or shock. "Oh, this date definitely passed pretty well." he spoke with a more intimate tone as he started to walk around the table towards her side. "I'm lookin' forward to many more nights like this."

"Me too, possibly." Angela quickly responded, getting up from her own seat.

They both quickly grabbed their things with Kevin even helping Angela get situated by holding her purse and helping place her blazer over her semi- masculine arms.

"So, Angela, how are you getting home?" Kevin asked, as the two started making their way to the exit side by side.

"Thank you" she smiled, noticing that he pushed the exit door open for her, the Florida wind fanning her face. "And I'm taking a cab back to my apartment, I gave you the napkin that my number on's-"

"I have the napkin cheekbones, I'm just saying I can take you home." he teased taking his keys out of his jacket pocket. "My truck is right over there, and I want you to get home safe. Some cab at this hour doesn't seem right to me."

Angela felt her face burn at the tempting offer. "Are you sure, I don't wanna make you stay out any longer."

"It's fine I wouldn't mind being out with you for a little longer, especially after all this." he replied smoothly, his confidence shining through.

Angela hesitated for a moment weighing her options. Back in the day, she wouldn't dare tell a man her address on the first date, let alone get in the same car with them. But again, it was one a.m., almost Two. Finding a phone at this kind of time seemed like so much work and knowing how people could become with alcohol on the streets of Miami, Kevin was right. It didn't seem like the right move.

"Well...If you insist, I don't mind."

↳ ¹ : ⁴⁵ ᵃᵐ | ANGELA

When they arrived at Angela's apartment building, the mood was completely charged. The short car ride had been filled with more wrestling stories from Kevin, tales of his days in Detroit, and travels with his friend group "The Kliq". But it was the endless teasing flying back and forth between them that made her feel a lightness in her heart that she hadn't experienced in ages.

But once they parked, Angela realized she wasn't going to win any argument about him following her inside. Even if her apartment was on the second floor, there was no point in mentioning it.

"You really didn't have to come all the way up here." She said, trying to maintain a hint of casualness as they reached her apartment door.

Kevin shook his head and ran his fingers through his long hair, which glimmered under the soft glow of the hallway lights. "I just wanted to make sure you got in safe and whatnot," he replied, a smile playing on his lips that made her heart flutter.

"I had a great time with you though, Angel. I haven't had this much fun in years-even when I was married, honest." he continued, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"You're truly one of a kind and thank you for even saying yes to Sherri's lil' arrangement."

Angela hesitated for a moment, her hand resting on the door handle as Kevin's words settled into her chest. She could feel the weight of them, more profound than any teasing or lighthearted joke they shared during the entire night.

"And thank you," She said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I had a really great time too. It was...different, in a great way though."

Kevin's eyes remained steady on her for a moment after she spoke, as if he was searching for something beyond her gaze until took a step closer without warning. "And somehow..." he said softly, his voice low and tender, "You've just became ten times sexier than before."

The unexpected compliment sent a buzz to Angela's tipsy brain. "Really? You sure that's not the wine talkin'?" she teased, trying to mask her growing fluster.

"Not a chance," he replied, his gaze still steady and unwavering as his hand tenderly moved to cup her cheek. "You have no idea how happy I am that I met you tonight, Angela. I truly mean it."

Before she could gather her thoughts and find the words to express how she felt about seeing him again, Kevin leaned in slowly and deliberately pressing a soft kiss on her left cheek. It lingered longer than expected, as if he was savoring the moment himself.

"I should probably get goin' though," he said against her skin, his voice soft but clear once he took a step back. "Goodnight, Angela."

And just like that he turned and walked away down the hall. Meanwhile, Angela stayed frozen in place unable to move. The click of her apartment door even opened behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to step back.

Her mind was now forming into a whirlwind of emotions and desires that she couldn't quite make sense of.

She truly didn't know if it was just the alcohol getting into her own head but that kiss...Along with the warmth of his touch still lingering on her cheek and the memory of his intense blue eyes burned in her mind. And she couldn't help but to feel a wave of longing wash over her as she realized that he was officially gone, and the thought of this actually being it for the night made her crave him more.

With a new sense of boldness, Angela quickly propped her door open, her fingers trembling slightly as she did and not thinking with her clear mind. She moved forward, her feet carrying her down the hall as she speedwalked.

Every step she took away from her apartment, her mind was yelling at her, telling her to stop. The complete opposite of what her body was screaming.

Just to her luck, Angela spotted Kevin as he was standing by the elevator because the stairs were closed off. He was waiting, his huge figure turned away from her while looking down at what looked like a piece of paper, lost in thought.

He was looking at her number.

Angela took a deep breath, her heart pounding against her ribs, as her voice called out, echoing like a loud whine in the hallway. "Kevin!"

Kevin turned his head, a look of surprise and concern etched on his handsome features. "Angela? Is everything alright?"

Her quickened steps faltered, and she felt a small gulp of embarrassment as saw him start to move forward, trying to meet her halfway. Angela knew that letting him walk away would personally be one of the biggest mistakes she would ever make tonight, so it was now or never.

"W-Well, I was just thinking." She said, taking a quick glance back toward her apartment door. "Would you like to stay for a little minute? Maybe come in?"

Kevin followed her gaze, his eyes darkening back to that shade of Sapphire Blue from earlier and there was something in the smirk that was now plastered on his face that Angela couldn't quite put her finger on. "So, you want some more alone time with me?" Kevin asked, his voice deeply spoken as he took a step closer. "Hm?"

Angela's cheeks flushed hot with both arousal and embarrassment at his suggestive tone. She nervously giggled before finally blurting out what she shouldn't be scared of saying. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "I do."

Her heart pounded even harder as Kevin's smirk grew wider, his voice dropping low and seductive. "I'd thought you'd never ask. Lead the way, hot stuff."

Angela led Kevin back to her apartment, feeling like she was floating on a cloud. She couldn't believe what was happening; just a few years ago she was telling herself, she was never "seeing a man" ever again. And now, she was letting a huge, gorgeous man follow her into her apartment.

It was all feeling like a dream.

Once he followed her inside, he had to bend down a bit as the door closed behind them. Angela turned to Kevin, her heart racing with excitement and nerves.

"So," she said, trying to sound casual as she placed her blazer on the coat rack, showcasing her gorgeous arms to him again. "Can I get you anything? A drink maybe?"

Angela could hear Kevin's steps follow her as she moved towards the kitchen island, looking down at her. "Nah, we already had enough wine back at the bar," He replied huskily, turning her body around in a simple twirl. "But there is something else I want."

Angela's breath got caught in her throat as she felt his hand reach out to gently brush an ingrown hair from her pixie cut, behind her ear. His touch was igniting a fuel in her core, and she couldn't deny that she loved the switch that was going off in him now.

"What's that?" She asked softly, unable to look away from his piercing haze.

"You," He answered simply before leaning down and capturing her lips on a searing kiss.

Angela let out a soft moan as their lips finally moved together, their bodies pressed close against each other as she rose to her tippy toes a bit.

His hands wandered down her back, pulling her even closer to him as their tongues danced together.

She had never felt this kind of passion before; it was like fireworks going off inside her body. She ran her hands through his thick, Disney prince-like hair as their kiss deepened even further.

Then suddenly she gasped as she felt Kevin lifted her up with one arm and easily place her on the cool kitchen island, their kiss never breaking. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he stood between her legs.

Their lips parted and Angela started to trail her soft, open mouth kisses down Kevin's strong jawline and beard. Seeing her burgundy lipstick print smeared across his lips and mustache did something to her and she couldn't wait to leave them everywhere else.

She nipped and sucked at his pale sensitive skin, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure.

Her eyes were half-closed with desire as Kevin's hands traveled up her body, making her skin tingle with anticipation. She could feel his hands lift her dress above her waist as if he was asking for permission.

"Go ahead, take it off." She slowly spoke, removing the straps off of her shoulders.

Kevin didn't need to be told twice. He lifted her dress up and tossed somewhere in the living room, on the floor. His eyes were staring like a Conover hunting its prey, at the sight of her in nothing but a black lacy bra and matching panties.

He leaned down and captured her lips again, his hands going back to roaming over every inch of her beautiful brown skin.

Angela felt a rush of heat between her legs as his hands traveled down to cup her ass, gripping and jiggling it with his hands while their tongues danced together once more. She couldn't believe that this was happening; She was finally getting something that she hated to admit years ago, she missed.

She pulled away from the kiss for air and looked into Kevin's eyes. Even with her sitting on the kitchen island he was still so much taller than her. "I need you, Kevin" she whispered huskily, her fingers making their way to his beard. "Please.."

But Kevin's expression shifted slightly, a mix of lust and concern fitting across his features. "But I-I don't have a condom," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

"I have one in my nightstand somewhere," Angela quickly assured, from the rush of adrenaline coursing through her. The thought of losing this moment and letting him walk away again, if he didn't want to do this anymore-pushed her heart rate faster.

Kevin's grip on Angela's thighs tightened as he let out an approving cheek kiss in response. He lifted her off the island with force, his eyes blazing with an intense desire. "Where's your room?" his voice low and commanding, making Angela's eyes widen as she started to see his true intensity.

"Down the hall to the left.."

She felt so light in his arms as he carried her to her bedroom, and their lips only parted for a second to gently place her on the bed. His eye contact was lethal despite the size difference as she laid on her back, tenderly watching him slowly strip off his outside clothes.

The sight of his hairy chest and beautifully toned abs itself made her moan and the pool in her underwear fully form.

He crawled onto the bed with her, his lips immediately trailing wet kisses down her neck and chest, making his way to her breasts. He quickly pulled her bra up with no warning, taking one nipple into his mouth while teasing the other with his large fingers.

"Such a beautiful, fucking woman." he groaned making Angela's back arch in pleasure as his lips began to travel down her stomach, leaving a trail tongue lick over her own abs.

She watched closely as he reached her lingerie and slowly slid them off, his eyes sparkling at the drooling sight.

She watched him closely as if he couldn't help it. Kevin's tongue instantly trailed along her soaking spot, wasting no time. His eyes were completely shut as he did so, swirling and sucking on her clit like it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

His actions and moans against her sent jolts throughout her body and she tangled her fingers in his hair to remotely pull him closer as her words started to grow louder. Meanwhile Kevin kept his hands locked onto her hips so she couldn't squirm.

But soon, her walls clenched as the feeling his large middle finger make its way in her tight, wet hole.

Arousal was already peaking with every suck, lick and spit he made on her core, and now his finger was adding onto the pleasure.

Kevin's eyes remained locked onto hers as he pulled his mouth away from her clit, keeping his finger in tack. And with spit trailing down his beard, he used his free hand to pull his boxers down, revealing his thick, hard erection.

"You sure ya' ready?" he growled adding his ring finger into her, coating his fingers.

Angela moaned loudly, resting herself on her elbows to get a better view. "Yeah, why wouldn't-Ah!" she yelped as she was suddenly now being flipped over on her stomach, feeling empty as his hands were now pulled away. "Kevin!"

She heard the sounds of paper ripping behind her, making her look back to the sight of him opening the condom that was in her nightstand.

Angela didn't even know she really had one in there.

"What?" Kevin continued as he gently placed the condom over his hard shaft. "I'm surprised; you have my size."

Angela felt his rough hands start to travel down her back, making sure she was arched up just right and open for his tall body. "Nothing's wrong," She mumbled in the the blanket. "You could jus' give me a head up sometimes, that's all." she scoffed, feeling her legs being spread apart, a signal that he was ready to position himself.

His manhood trialed up and down her wet slit, coating it with her pooling wetness. "Well can you blame me? You told me you're ready n' you need me, right?" He teased with a dry chuckle behind her, leaning down to her ear. "I mean, it looks like you do. You're already making a mess, and I haven't even got started yet."

Angela's breath hitched as Kevin's words made her back arch. She couldn't deny that her core was aching for his contact ever since she brought him back and like before it was now or never, and she was sure he was feeling the same way also.

"Of course, I said I-FUCK!" her words were instantly cut off by Kevin slowly pushing into her.

He began to move once he was halfway inside of her and Angela couldn't help but moan loudly into her blankets as every inch of him was slowly filling her tightness as his movements were slow and steady.

"You're just so wet, I didn't wanna waste any more time." he cursed, sending a rough strike to her ass as he began to pick up the pace a bit. "So beautiful, just like this..."

Angela's moans grew out of control as he gripped onto her hips with bruising force, causing her arch to loosen up with each savage thrust. "Fuck me harder... please!" she cried out, fingers clawing at the bed.

Her body language was of control like her body was sensitive to every single touch he made onto her body.

They were so lost in a frenzy of euphoria, Kevin started slowly pounding into her with reckless abandon. Every thrust brought more cream and dripping wetness to coat his throbbing shaft.

"You're so fucking tight. Making a mess all over a man you just met." he groaned, his voice deep and primal in her right ear,

She could feel him already reaching his peak and begged for more, pushing herself back onto him with desperation. "You feel s-so good inside of me, Mmh!" She shouted, grabbing onto a pillow nearby to place under her face.

She began to push herself back onto him, wanting to feel all of him inside of her. Her loud noises weren't even moans anymore, they were more like loud war cries now and she was sure that her neighbors could probably hear the two of them, themselves. "You're too big, I-!" Angela whined out.

The adrenaline was coursing through Angela's body, her walls clenching tightly around him as she reached down to rub frantically at her sensitive nub. She could feel herself already getting closer, feeling her legs tremble as Kevin's grip on her hips tightened even more.

He reached forward, using his dominant left hand to cover her neck as he began to thrust into her with slow, passionate force. "That's it, baby girl," he encouraged, his deep voice making her body jolt once again. "Let go for me. You needed this, you deserve this, Angela."

Angela couldn't hold back any longer, she felt like her body was engulfing in flames as she screamed out Kevin's name. The waves of intensity finally washed over her as her fingers dug into the pillow, riding her long-awaited high.

She could sense Kevin's own release was building inside as he twitched a bit in her cream filled walls. His thrusts became sloppier and more desperate as the two continued their loud noises. Gripping her whole neck tightly before, finally spilling himself inside of the condom with a loud moan of his own.

He gently collapsed on top of her, both of them in a sweaty heap. Their breathing was heavy and ragged and despite Angela feeling the body heat and soreness forming under his big body, she couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh.

She was truly happy that she listened to Sherri for once.

Kevin leaned down to place gentle kisses along the nape of her neck before pulling out of her and rolling onto his back beside her. They laid there in the same position for a few minutes, both trying to catch their breaths. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Angela finally turned to face Kevin, "Yeah," she replied, a soft smile. "Just thinkin' about how I'm gonna tell Sherri about all of this tomorrow..."

ྀི• Theres something about Kevin Nash that just...lord-

ྀི• This imagine was 18 pages in my notebook and computer

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི • All, if not most of the Imagines will have exclusive content like this one, so please remeber that these all are gonna be 18+

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི • Please remember that these imagines are just for FUN and I'm a writer that just loves to write...

ྀི • Feel free to follow me on Twitter and Bluesky @/jazzybuggy (don't put the "/")

ྀི • The part in her apartment...yeah let me not say too much, Matt Hardy is next!

~ 𝔍𝔞𝔷𝔷𝔶 ʚ🍓ɞ

32 notes · View notes

quack-quack-snacks · 9 months ago

Text

Time Will Tell - Chapter 1.09

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Hyun-su being sweet with the kids, Hyun-su having a monster episode. Word Count: 1,113

prev | current | next

“Where’s appa? And noona?” Yeong-su questioned his older sister tearfully. His nose sniffled every few seconds as the tears refused to stop. “I’m scared. Su-yeong, it’s too dark in here.”

“It’s okay,” Su-yeong tried to console her brother. “We’re gonna be alright. Unnie will come and save us.”

“And appa?” Yeong-su asked again. Both kids were too young to truly understand how fatal the fall of their father was, Yeong-su only recently even learning what death was. Su-yeong had hope for her father’s safety, one that was born of childhood innocence and a need for guidance.

“Yeah, he’ll be back soon,” she reassured. Her own tears soaked her cheeks and she cried quietly, trying to stay strong for her younger brother but only being able to do so for so long. She was only nine. She wasn’t supposed to be doing all of this at such a young age.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Both kids flinched and stayed quiet. Su-yeong pointed her flightlight at the door when it knocked again. She could just barely see the silhouette of a man through the glass but didn’t want to risk it. Not until she heard him speak.

“Kids. I’m here to help you. I know you’re scared but I’m not a monster. I’ll get you to safety,” he promised. Su-yeong got up and walked to open the door, cautiously at first but then opening it fully for the stranger to enter.

He walked in, looking at the two kids and sighing in relief when he saw they were unharmed. He helped set up some candles to start with before the three of them sat around the wax fires on the floor.

“Please, sir,” Yeong-su was the first to interrupt the silence that had settled over them like a blanket. “Do you think you can save our dad?” He asked. His voice was devoid of any hope but he still desperately needed the answer to be a yes.

“What?” Hyun-su asked them, momentarily forgetting how their father fell from out their window on the 12th floor.

“Our dad fell down the building and hit the ground,” the young boy explained.

Hyun-su looked down at his lap, wishing he didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news for these two kids. “I know.”

“Maybe he’s still-” Su-yeong said hopefully only for that hope to be crushed by his next words.

“I’m afraid nobody can survive a fall from the 12th floor,” he confessed. Both kids started to sob softly, mourning the loss of their father. Hyun-su took a moment before trying to lighten their spirits with some good news, no matter how small that news was in comparison to everything else. “There’s a man on the 14th floor that has a lot of food for both of you. You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Both kids nodded in agreement and he continued. “You don’t want to stay here by yourselves, am I right?”

“But what about noona?” Yeong-su asked quickly, his voice wobbly from the tears he continued to shed.

“What?” Hyun-su asked.

“What about our sister? What if she comes back here?” Su-yeong elaborated. Hyun-su took a moment before coming up with an idea.

“What if we left her a note to tell her where we went? That way she can head there too if she comes back,” he offered. Both kids looked content with that idea and he smiled softly, trying to reassure them.

“In order to get there, we’ll have to go into the hallway. There might be monsters,” he continued with the explanation of his plan. “How old are the two of you?”

“I’m nine…” Su-yeong started. “And my brother is six years old.”

He looked between the two of them before smiling softly again. “You know, those are perfect ages to fight monsters,” he assured. Another moment of silence went by as he looked between the two of them before reaching over to gently squeeze the younger boy’s shoulder since he was still sobbing. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m gonna protect you, I promise.”

He ignored how his hands shook when he promised them that. He wasn’t lying about that promise, he would protect them no matter what. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t let any harm come to them.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t scared though.

After placing a sticky note on the wall directly next to the front door of the apartment, Hyun-su led them out of their home, down the hallway, and to the entrance of the stairs. After opening the door and letting them go through first, he took a step to join them until he felt his legs freeze in place. A jolt of pain rushed through his body but the one he focused on the most was the one on his right forearm, right over his scars. His eyes widened and his breath staggered when he saw a hand - that had to be his but was not one of the two attached to his body - run over his arm.

‘Protect them?’ He heard his own voice question him. The voice sounded like it was spoken directly into his ear, as if a clone of himself was standing behind him and whispering it like a secret. ‘Is that what you want to do?’

He stumbled, dropping his weapon and falling against the wall. The same type of nosebleed he had gotten hours ago in his apartment happened again. Blood streamed out in an almost comically exorbitant amount. It stained his skin and his clothes, soaking everything within its path. His eyes squeezed shut, images flashing through his mind without his consent and making his head pound.

He knew what this meant.

He knew this meant he was infected.

He just wished it came after he had saved the two kids in front of him.

“Are you okay?” Su-yeong asked cautiously when she didn’t hear or see him following them.

“Get away from me,” he warned, his voice strained. “Leave, now!” And he slammed the door to the stairs shut, separating them from him.

“You always liked to act cool in front of the weak, didn’t you? Now look what happened,” the other version of himself asked. Other voices, ones he knew from the past, bounced around and echoed through his head.

“It was my fault…”

“Fucking dumbass! Haha!”

“Come out!”

“Hyun-su? I’m not related to him! Who told you that?”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Bastard!”

“It was your fault!”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“You’re a sad case. It was unfair.”

“Just die already.”

“It was unfair.”

#Time Will Tell 💌 quack-quack-snacks #sweet home #cha hyunsu #cha hyun su #cha hyunsoo #cha hyun soo #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyunsu x reader #cha hyunsoo x reader #cha hyun soo x reader #sweet home x reader

126 notes · View notes

imsodishy · 6 months ago

Text

Take a Step That is New

another episode of Four's Company (a series on ao3)

this episode filmed in front of a live studio audience

May 1987

The cheery chimes above the door at Dot's Dinner ting-a-ling as Steve walks in and he almost throws his stupid briefcase at it. He settles at the last minute for telling it to, “Shut the hell up,” and heads for the counter.

“Whoa, buddy, rough day?” Robin's already saddled up on a stool, Billy’s just serving up her burger and onion rings.

The boxy fan they’ve set up on the counter does nothing to dispel the muggy heat that’s settled over the city, just moves the humid air around. It also does nothing to improve Steve’s mood, sweltering in his stupid suit, he yanks at his tie until he can breathe again.

Steve claims the stool next to Robin, peels off his stuffy jacket and slams it down on the teal formica counter top with zero thought for whatever grease or condiments it might find there, then he plonks his head down next to it without acknowledging Robin, and groans like a dying seal, “I hate my fucking life.”

It’s not true, Steve likes his life. Mostly.

What he fucking hates is his job. Which makes up… some way too big percentage of his life; 9 to 5, Monday to Friday is a big chunk of the week. The heat doesn’t help.

Robin pat-pats his shoulder consolingly. He hears Billy huff at his dramatics before walking away from the sad spectacle of Steve’s life. Off in the corner Seymour, a grumpy old regular who basically lives at his booth, frowns. He’s always frowning at something though. Mostly at Steve, though not exclusively. Eddie earns his fair share of stink-eye.

Robin's hand is still on Steve’s shoulder when he can sense her lean in closer and– “Don't fucking sniff me, dude!” He snaps upright, leaning as far away from her as he can without toppling off the stool. “It's so weird.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” she says, “You seem stressed is all, and I was just checking you didn’t go crawling back to sweet lady nicotine's disgusting embrace.”

Robin’s been rabid lately on her bid to get all three of them to quit smoking. It started with a not in the house rule, and has quickly progressed to all out war on the cancer sticks. Steve's the only one who's buckled so far. He's on an almost two month streak right now, and she's been playing hard defense to keep him on it. He draws the line at the sniffing though. That is simply unacceptable.

Steve rolls his eyes, and grumbles, “I didn’t smoke,” God, he could really go for one right now though, “If I bring a lighter to work I’ll end up burning the building down.”

A strawberry milkshake clonks down on the counter in front of him as Billy basically drops it like a bomb, “Oh my God. Quit! Just quit your stupid fucking job that you hate!” he explodes, “I cannot listen to your sad-sack, bitch-baby, whining about it anymore.“

Steve pulls his milkshake in close just in case Billy tries to confiscate it for bitch-baby behavior. “I can’t just quit,” he whines.

Billy just rolls his eyes and doesn’t try to take Steve’s one joy away from him. “Why? Because your Dad got it for you?”

And like, yeah, but Billy doesn’t have to be such a dickhead about it.

Billy landed his job at Dot’s Diner like some kind of magic. Seriously, their first day in New York, they hadn’t even unpacked any of the boxes they'd schlepped into the house when Billy dusted off his hands and said, “I'm gonna get the lay of the land,” and walked out the front door.

He came back six hours later with a job and a peanut butter milkshake. It took him a month after that to tell them where he worked, and he tells them frequently that he's regretted it everyday since he caved. They do spend a lot of time there bothering him, despite the fact he refuses to give them freebies. His boss, Sal (who reminds Steve a lot of Benny from the diner back home, if he had about two dozen extra tattoos, like they both rolled off a big, gruff, diner proprietor assembly line somewhere), is actually way more likely to sling them a free coke or some fries once in a while.

“We could find you another job,” Robin says, as she’s been saying for months, “One that makes you at least sixty percent less arson-y, guaranteed!”

Robin got her job at the campus bookstore through student services, (obviously not an option for Steve), although, with the first year under her belt, she's talking about looking elsewhere for employment, since the school pays them peanuts anyway, and she thinks she'll be able to balance her schedule better now on her own.

The door chimes jangle crazily as Eddie bursts into the diner, “Outstanding news chums!” he booms, ignoring Seymour scowling in his direction.

“Easy on the door, Munson,” Billy warns.

Eddie shuts the door with exaggerated care, before he hustles over to the counter and hops up on the stool on Robins other side. He gives himself a drumroll, rattling all the flatware on the counter. Old Seymour’s glare intensifies.

“I have news,” he repeats, flipping his cup right-side-up for Billy to fill with coffee he doesn’t need, upcoming nightshift at the bar or no.

Robin takes a guess, “You talked to you boss about getting the time off for the Hawkins trip?” she doesn’t sound that hopeful.

And for good reason. “What? No,” Eddie dismisses her with a flapping hand, “I have an audition with a band!”

“Gasp,” Robin says flatly. The only news Eddie gets this excited about is when he's auditioning, or sitting in, or has a lead on some new band seeking a guitarist.

Eddie, by his own account, got his so-called day job (it’s nights, bar-backing) by just hanging around the bar/music venue he frequents all the time, bothering the bartenders (and selling them weed) until one of them slapped a rag in his hand and told him to make himself useful. Which suits him just fine to fill time while he chases his music dream.

“Look, I'm going to Hawkins either way,” Eddie tells her with a carefree shrug, “If Rosco won't give me the time off I'll just quit and get a new job when we get back.”

“See!” Billy says, slamming the coffee pot back into it's cradle, “You see how easy that is, Harrington? You lose a job, then you get another one. C'est la fucking vie.”

Eddie leans around Robin to look at Steve, “Oh-ho. Did the little Lord Harrington finally break free from the yuppie rat race?”

“No,” Steve says, and slurps a big sip of his milkshake.

Steve didn’t get his own job at all, obviously. It was already lined up for him before they even rented the moving truck. It came pre-approved for him courtesy of his father and his father’s business connections. Steve's been working there for almost a year now, but he's still not entirely clear what they do.

It's real-estate... kind of? The company buys properties, but they do it by selling shares in the properties to other companies, then they use that money to pay construction companies to tear down those properties and build new ones on the land. Those construction companies use that money to buy steel and other building shit from Steve’s dad’s plants back in Indiana (and Michigan). Then Steve's bosses sell the whole shebang for several butt-loads of money for them and their investors to start the game all over again.

Steve’s job largely seems to involve standing around, insuring their side of the boardroom has the most men in suits at all times, and occasionally kissing investor ass. He’s a Junior Account Associate somehow.

It’s soul crushing.

“Aw, cheer up, Stevie,” Eddie says, slapping him on the back, “Look on the bright side, at least you can always keep our beer fridge stocked with that fat paycheck of yours.”

Robin does Steve the favor of smacking Eddie upside the head.

Steve decides to change the subject, “What’s the band called, Ed?” he asks, because that’s always good for a laugh at least.

Eddie holds his hands in front of his face like he's framing a marquee, “ God of Gore ,” he announces in a theatrical growl.

Steve snorts to himself. Yeah, that’s good shit.

“And,” he goes on, voice rising in pitch as he gets more hyped up, “Get this, their last guitarist up and moved to Indiana! How's that for kismet? It's fate, I tells ya!”

“Who would willingly move to Indiana,” Billy wonders, “The whole state's a toilet.”

Not at all bothered by the shit talking of their home state, Eddie hops down of his stool and announces, “Speaking of which, gotta drain the snake.”

While Robin is busy grimacing at that, Eddie wiggles incredibly unsubtle eyebrows at Billy. He gets a, much more subtle, jerk of the chin back, so Eddie slips right past the bathrooms and into the kitchen, and doubtless out the back door to smoke in peace, away from Robin’s judgmental gaze. He’s made vague, placating noises at her about cutting back, but he’s just been sneaking around behind her back, with Billy as an accomplice.

Billy might be smoking more out of spite.

Eddie's whirlwind act really made Steve feel like the sad-sack Billy accused him of being, and he’s sick of that feeling, gets more than enough of it everyday at work.

All the silverware rattles as he slams a decisive hand down on the counter, much to Seymour’s ire. “You know what I think would make me feel better?” Steve asks loudly and rhetorically.

He shoves away from the counter and heads straight for the jukebox.

“No!” Billy booms, pointing at Steve like he’s a cat on the counter.

Steve backs slowly down the aisle, facing Billy the whole way with big, guileless eyes. “What's that?”

“You’re still banned for Bryan Adams crimes.” Honestly, Steve’s probably got a couple bans stacked at the moment. Billy doles them out liberally.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hargrove,” Steve bumps into the jukebox because he still won’t turn away from Billy’s impotent glare. It's great, his ears are going red.

“I call the shots here,” he tries, fruitlessly.

“No you don‘t, Sal does,” Steve snorts, “And, anyway, I am a private citizen, this is a free country! My dime is as good as anybody’s!” He's been spending too much time with Eddie.

Billy throws a spoon at him.

Steve cackles as he plugs the jukebox. There’s a couple beats of bassy synthesizer.

Billy tells him, “You’re a monster,” with feeling.

Then— “ Watching every motion in my foolish lover’s game.”

Steve slow dances back towards the counter, swaying to the dreamy beat of the bum-bum-bum-bubums, high on the joy of being deeply annoying. He slides back onto his stool just in time to dramatically sing along to, “ Take my breath awaaaaay,” right in Billy’s face. It's gone all red now, like the cherry on Steve's shake, which he happily pops between his grinning teeth.

“It’s not my fault Sal won’t put Mötley Crüe in there,” Steve says, munching happily on his cherry.

Billy storms off into the kitchen.

“Someday,” Robin muses through he mouthful of fried onions, “he’s going to feed you a floor burger, and I’m not going to stop him. This song is sincerely awful.”

“I like it,” Steve declares.

“Of course you do.” Robin pats his hand condescendingly.

She swivels on her stool to face him, a concerned little furrow in her brow, and ketchup on her cheek. “Seriously though, Steve, we could find you a different job. No problem. You got the job at Family Video, and Scoops before that.” Robin got him the job at Family Video, and he only got the job at Scoops because the first guy they hired showed up to the training stoned, but it’s nice of her to say. “You don’t need to stick it out because of your dad, you don’t need his help. It’s not your only option or whatever bullshit you’re worried about. You can get a different job. And, okay, no it wouldn’t pay as much, but you'd get by.”

Robin wasn’t Steve’s first real friend or anything like that, he wouldn’t even say she’s his first good friend . But she’s definitely his best friend. Steve lays a hand over her slightly greasy one on the counter, and furrows his brow right back at her, “But then, Robin, who would keep the beer fridge stocked?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her burger, “So we'd have to bid goodbye to Daddy Beer-bucks, we'd survive.”

They would. Robin, Billy, and Eddie are resourceful, and smart, and self-sufficient, they’d figure out a way get by, even with Steve hanging like an anchor around their necks. But Steve hates the idea of dragging them down. Actually can’t stand it. He literally gets a stomach ache if he thinks too hard about it. When he can hear future Robin, somewhere down the line, when she’s sick of his shit, saying You can’t expect us to handle every little issue for you, dingus, in his head, except sometimes the ‘dingus’ morphs into ‘darling’ and imaginary-Robin sounds disturbingly like his mother (which doesn’t help the stomach ache problem at all). So he needs to keep bringing in enough money to pay his way.

Steve just smiles at her.

Billy reemerges from the kitchen to make a round of his tables, giving Steve the evil eye as he goes, before settling behind the counter to concentrate on glaring at Steve despite the fact that the song is long over by now, Eddie Money is playing now. Steve raises his eyebrows at his glare, “Don’t look at me, I’m all out of dimes.”

Robin, perhaps prompted by Mr. Money asks, “Where'd Eddie go? He’s taking forever in there.”

Billy silently points over her shoulder to where they can clearly see Eddie’s hunched form cowering miserably under the diner's awning from the unpleasantly warm rain that’s finally broken after threatening all day. He’s sucking down smoke like his life depends on it. Must not have been enough shelter in the alley when the rain started.

“No!” Robin shouts, much like Billy had shouted at Steve earlier, and dashes out the door, bells cheerfully chiming her exit. Eddie takes a couple more panicked puffs before Robin gets to him and he has to start playing keep away with the butt.

Steve watches them through the window for a couple seconds like a real life version of those weird old puppet shows, “What are those puppets that–“

“Punch and Judy,” Billy answers the unfinished question.

He flicks a dime that bounces off Steve's forehead and drops to the counter with a ring-a-ting-ting. “Go put on some Springsteen, Bambi,” he says, smiling at him like he’s still a sad-sack, sure, but at least he’s one Billy’s kinda fond of, then he goes to top off Seymour’s coffee down at the far end of the other end of the diner.

For Billy alone, Seymour’s got a great big smile.

Steve has stapled his tie to his desk. Which seems like the kind of thing most people would only do by accident. Not Steve, though. No, he simply got so bored that when the thought, I wonder if I could staple my tie to this desk right now, breezed through his head he went ahead and did it.

Turns out he could, so he added a couple more staples for no better reason than the first one.

Steve feels like his brain is melting out his ears which is maybe half boredom, half the heat. The AC has been in and out all week, something about the grid according to maintenance. Turns out a cracked window and a fan isn’t any more effective on the 10th floor of a Manhattan office building than it is in a ground level diner in the Bronx.

“Harrington.” All the staples explode off his tie, flying all over his little hot-box of an office, when he jerks upright as Connor Michaels walks in to his office. The guy definitely notices the staples too, judging by the shitty little smirk on his face.

The thing about all of Steve’s coworkers is that they hate him, because he’s clearly just a doofus nepotism hire who has no business working here. They all hide it behind a veneer of polite condescension while trying to use him as a connection since his last name is Harrington, though. It’s all so pathetically exactly like high school Steve can hardly stand it.

Connor chuckles, “Tgif, am I right? Listen, I asked Laura to pull the permits for the Hell’s Kitchen property for me, but she’s on the rag or something and flipped out at me.”

The other thing about Steve’s coworkers is that they’re all douchebags.

“Okay,” Steve says to avoid stapling his smug face.

“I know she does shit like that for you all the time, so think you could work your magic?” Connor wiggles his fingers vaguely that reminds Steve of how his mom would talk about his sport’s things any time it came up.

Laura is the only exception to the douchebag rule. She’s smart, and competent, and the only woman at Steve’s level of management. She also hates Steve, but she doesn't try to hide it. She’s got integrity about it. The only reason she helps Steve with things like permits and filings is that she knows she’s the one who will have to clean up the mess if he royally screws it. She reminds him a lot of Robin in the early days of working at Scoops, just completely unimpressed by and uninterested in his King Steve bullshit.

Steve does frequently throw himself on her mercy, she’s the only reason he hasn’t caused any serious problems so far. Which is maybe the other reason she keeps helping him, because he unreservedly admits that it’s a joke that they’re on the same level professionally. And not a funny one.

Steve starts sweeping the staples that landed on his desk and not the floor into a pile, “Sure,” he says to Connor, hoping that’ll get him to leave.

No luck. Instead he tucks his hand in his pockets and settles into a slouches against Steve’s wall, “How do you manage that anyway?” he asks lightly, “You tapping that?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “No.”

Connor hums, “Yeah, not surprising. I bet she’s a dyke.”

And maybe, on a different day, when Steve wasn’t already at his boiling point both figuratively and literally, he would have responded more... diplomatically.

“I quit my job,” Steve announces as he walks through the front door of his house.

All three of his roommates turn to gape at him from the living room.

They were all lounging around in the bare minimum of clothes required for the living room with two opposing fans pointed at them in an attempt at a cross breeze when Steve arrived home with his briefcase in a cardboard box with shockingly little else in the way of personal effects in it. He really hadn’t built up much of a presence at the office over the nearly a year he worked there.

“What?” Robin exclaims, as she mutes the TV, “What happened?”

“I threw a stapler at a guy’s head.” Steve answers.

“A stapler?” Billy asks, baffled, “Why?”

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I also said a lot of shit, but the stapler was probably the button on it.” Steve drops his things, steps out of his wingtips, and starts tugging at his tie as he makes his way across the room, “It wasn’t even- Like, I mean, it was business as usual, really. It wasn’t anything new, and I just... lost it.” He’s down to his undershirt and boxershorts by the time he collapses between Robin and Billy on the couch with a massive sigh like a slowly deflating raft.

“Right on man,” Eddie says from his spot on the armchair, leaning over to slap Steve’s knee, “I bet that guy had a stapler to the face coming.”

He really did, Steve must concede.

“Shit, I can’t believe I quit.”

Robin makes a questioning noise, “Did you actually quit, or did they fire you? For the stapler thing?”

“Who gives shit,” Billy says before Steve can tell them he’s not actually sure technically, “It’s done and dusted either way. Which calls for a celebration!”

Billy bounces up off the couch and goes to the kitchen to collect a round of beers for everyone, he’s the only one who’s foregone a shirt so far, which is unsurprising. He pops the caps of with his ring before doling out the bottles.

“To casting off the corporate shackles!” Eddie toasts, Billy and Robin here-hereing it.

Steve takes a big gulp of his beer. “What the hell am I gonna do?” he wonders aloud.

“Celebrate!” Robin says, she’s also in a t-shirt and boxershorts, which she stole from Steve a while back for loungewear, “Like the man said.”

Steve huffs, “I meant like, longer term. The rent and stuff.”

“Don't worry, Stevie my boy,” Eddie says, clapping him on the back, “Once we find you a real person job you'll do just fine. After all, the rest of us plebs cover our fair shares with our piddly little paychecks, right?”

Steve, caught out, hesitates a beat too long (long enough for Billy's bullshit radar to ping), before saying, “Right. Sure. Yeah,” in a way that clearly doesn’t cover for him.

Billy squints at him, “We have all been covering our fair share of the rent, right, Harrington?”

Steve nods but he can’t maintain eye contact when he answers, “Right. Fair shares.”

Robin, catching on immediately, groans, “Oh god, Steve, tell me you haven’t been doing something outstandingly stupid, like paying half the rent, this whole freaking time.” When Steve doesn’t answer right away she screeches, “Steven!”

“Not half! I haven’t, okay?” he rushes to explain, “Just, like,” he holds up his fingers pinched so close together, “A little more, than you guys.”

“How much more,” Billy demands through clenched teeth.

“Well,” Steve tries to think of how best to phrase it, “Imagine we had a fifth roommate, who's rent I have also been paying.”

“So, double,” Billy’s basically growling now, “You've been paying double what the rest of us have. This whole goddamn time!” Steve hadn’t thought of it that way, but the math does check out. He thinks.

“And... also the utilities,” he admits reluctantly.

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie says, shaking his head sadly.

“Fuck!” Billy shouts and storms off, stomping his way upstairs without anyone trying to stop him. When Billy removes himself from a situation, it’s best to let him.

“I can probably still get the job back,” Steve offers, even though the thought makes him nauseous. He’ll eat shit if he needs to, “If I tell them I was on coke or something they might actually respect me more.”

Eddie’s still shaking his head, but more decisively, “No way, man. We’re not letting you go crawling back to those corporate shitbags now, not a chance in hell.”

“No other job I can get for myself is going to pay a quarter as well, though.”

Robin backs Eddie up though, “You were miserable, Steve. None of us wants you to be miserable like that, not for any amount of money.”

Steve still can’t just let it go, though, “But without that money-

“There’s no need to panic, all we need is a plan. You’ve got savings, yeah? That’ll give us a cushion until you get a new job- we need to do a comprehensive household budget,” Robin says, like she’s already running numbers in her head, “We’ve been way too loosey-goosey about it, anyway.” Because they’ve been relying on Steve to smooth over any gaps. Not that they necessarily knew that. They’d just hit him up for beer and pizza sometimes and called it a Shill tax.

“I don’t know how to do a budget,” Steve admits with an apologetic grimace.

Eddie slings an arm over his shoulders and tries to pull him into some kind of wonky headlock while Steve resists him easily, “Don’t you fret, for you are a very lucky boy, with three wonderful roommates, whose collars are all extremely blue. We’ll show you the ropes.”

“You know what the easiest expense to cut is?” Robin says brightly, “Cigarettes.”

“You know what!” Eddie wheels on her, suddenly apparently at his limit on the whole smoking thing.

Steve watches them bicker back and forth for a couple minutes. Even though it’s clear that this has been building for a while, and of course the inescapable heat doesn’t help, Steve can’t help but feel like it’s his fault for dropping a stress bomb on their heads. Or at least it feels very reminiscent of watching his parents fight about the wallpaper when what they really want to fight about is their miserable marriage. What’s the word for that? Displacement?

Eventually he slips out, leaving Robin and Eddie to their squabbles he can’t really contribute to one way or the other and heads upstairs.

Billy's not in his room, but Steve didn’t really expect him to be.

Halfway up the flight of stairs from the second floor to the third there's a window, and outside the window is a strip of roof, about five feet wide by ten feet long, and gently sloped, covering their porch below. Billy likes to sulk out there, especially since the weather turned, though not quite so much since it turned mean.

Sure enough, the window is ajar and Steve can smell smoke.

He sticks his hands out the window, palms out, he comes in peace, “I’m coming out,” he says, “Please don’t hurl me off the roof.”

Billy doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t bite Steve’s head off either, which from him is basically an engraved invitation.

Steve hauls himself up onto the little stretch of roof, crab walking over ‘til he can plant his butt next to Billy. Even though the sun is sinking fast the heat hasn’t broken at all.

He snags the cigarette right out of Billy’s mouth as he settles next to him and takes a long, indulgent drag. He only grimaces a little at the taste, Billy and his fucking Marlboros.

“Ooooh,” Billy deigns to speak to him, snatching his smoke back, “Robin's gonna be mad at you,”

“More or less mad than when I tell her I'm not going to Hawkins this summer?”

Billy's hand freezes with the cigarette just about back to his mouth. His lips, already parted to accept it, now just hanging slack pointlessly. “Seriously?”

Steve shrugs, shooting for nonchalance, missing by a mile probably. “Figure I can do without getting the full rundown on what an embarrassing disappointment I am in person. I’m sure I’ll get the CliffsNotes from our answering machine anyway. Those were always more my speed.”

He figures they'll share a laugh at that, but when he looks over Billy's not laughing. In fact, he's not even smiling, he just takes a rough drag off the cigarette and then hands it back to Steve without prompting. “If your dad leaves any blowhard message on our machine, I’m deleting them.”

Steve’s not sure what to say to that so for a while they just pass the butt back and forth in silence until he screws up his courage to ask, "What about you? You mad at me?” with a wince, “About the rent thing.”

“Well I’m not fucking thrilled about it, Harrington.”

Yeah, that was obvious.

Billy runs an agitated hand through his hair leaving his curls, already frizzy from the humidity, even more messed up. “Thought- it felt like we were making it. Doing it for real, you know? Standing on my own two feet like a man,” he scoffs to himself, “ Stupid.”

Billy’s got a very specific tone he does when he’s quoting his dad, and Steve fucking hates it.

“You are,” Steve insists. Billy quirks an eyebrow at him, and Steve scrambles to clarify, “Making it. Not stupid. You’re making it.”

“Not without a heaping helping of charity apparently. I can’t-”

“It wasn’t charity, dickhead!” Billy’s mouth snaps shut, and thank god for that, because Steve has no more interest in hearing what Neil Hargrove would have to say about his son than Billy does in suffering through phone messages from Richard Harrington. “It just made sense. I took that stupid job from my dad, and the paycheck was the only good goddamn thing about it. And you guys have all this other stuff going on. You and Robin have school, and Eddie’s trying to do his whole music thing. I mean, what the hell else was I supposed to do with all that stupidly easy money I was barely really earning? Other than use it to buy you guys food, and beer, and, yeah, pay the fucking rent!” He’s worked up a good head of steam, but he deflates immediately in the wake of his outburst, “I mean, what the hell else am I bringing to the table here?”

Suddenly self-conscious in the silence that follows, and way too aware that he’s breathing a little heavy, Steve snatches the cigarette from Billy’s hand. Takes a huffy little puff, like someone who doesn’t know how to inhale, then takes a slower, more measured one.

“You sell yourself short, you know,” Billy says, uncharacteristically quiet. Steve looks over at him, but Billy's not looking back, he's gazing out across their neighborhood instead.

“Look,” he goes on, slow and awkward, “I don’t exactly know where I'd be right now, if not for you. But, I know I wouldn’t be here .” He throws his arms out wide to encompass all of New York City, and their whole life here.

It's not like they have a spectacular view or anything, they're not up remotely high enough for that. Their sagging little strip of roof, on their rundown building, isn’t even facing the glittering Manhattan skyline. Down below them a taxi driver is shouting at a truck that’s blocking a cross street. The humidity is oppressive and the heat makes the streets stink like garbage, and it’s not like it’s any cooler in the house.

Their whole life here? It doesn’t actually look like very much from the outside.

Steve gets it though.

He jostles their shoulders together, “You would have gotten out. You would have made it anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Billy plucks the cigarette out of Steve’s grasp, kills the last of it and pitches the butt to the street below. Steve watches the glowing trail of the cherry as it falls.

“You know,” Billy says after a long stretch of mostly comfortable silence, “If you don’t go to Hawkins, you’re gonna have to let Eddie drive the beemer.”

“Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He waves off the thought, “Can’t be helped. I need to start the job search anyway.”

Steve thinks about that process for all of thirty seconds before he groans, “Man, my resume is gonna be so fucking weird.” Steve lists his employment record out on his fingers, “Scoops Ahoy, burned down. Family Video... I don’t think I gave notice at Family Video, I think I just left and didn’t come back. Kensington Group Limited, assaulted a co-worker with stationary.”

“Well, if all else fails, you know Eddie would love to fake some references for you,” Billy says, “Bet he’ll do voices and everything.”

“Just what I need. A reference from Gondelf.”

Billy snorts a laughs, “It’s Gandalf, you know it’s Gandalf.” He’s right, Steve knows that, because Eddie never shuts up about that book.

“Mmm, pretty sure it’s Gondelf. I mean, he’s an elf, right?” Billy just rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, and listing a little towards Steve.

“Billy,” Steve speaks softly, earnestly. Billy hums back a question, “Would you... get me a job at the diner?”

Billy explodes with laughter, “Fuck no!”

“C’mon,” he wheedles, through his own laughter, “We can commute together! Sal loves you. Be a pal, put in a good word for me!”

Billy punches him in the shoulder, “Sure, I’ll tell him you’re a chronic masturbator and that I’ve never seen you wash your hands.”

“Thanks, buddy. I really appreciate that.”

Billy grabs the shoulder of Steve’s shirt and rattles him around a bit like a dog with a squeaky toy, “I’m going to shove you off this roof,” he threatens through laughter.

They lapse into giggly silence and then just silent silence. Billy keeps his grip on Steve’s shirt like he’s worried he might actually go toppling over the edge after all if Billy doesn’t keep a tight hold.

Or maybe he’s just forgotten that his hand is there.

“Hey,” Steve says after a while, just to get Billy to look him in the eye, “We’re gonna be fine,” he reassures him once he has.

Billy’s undivided attention is always intense, eyes like blue lasers locked on to a target. It used to freak Steve out in high school, but he’s gotten used to it. It’s just how Billy is. Sharp like that.

Sharp enough that he reads Steve like a goddamn book and knows that as much as Steve really was trying to reassure him, he was also, maybe just a bit, fishing for reassurance too.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Billy parrots.

They stare at each other, probably for too long, sitting in a little loop of comforting and being comforted. And Steve, he believes it. They’re gonna be fine.

They have each other.

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #robin buckley #eddie munson #harringrove #(pre harringrove really but ya know)#more cross-posting #dishy writes #four's company #fic

42 notes · View notes

alexanderwales · 18 days ago

Note

"sometimes asking “is X a person?” gets really tiresome, especially in the age of the LLM, when I’m personally more inclined to say “no, that’s not a person, it just acts like one unless you can prove otherwise”.

I feel like this is kind of eliding over one of the big moral horrors which LLMs have produced/revealed! Which is that our person-detection-systems are so shallow that they can be easily triggered to false positives by the right shapes of nonpeople, and that therefore it's going to be extremely hard for us to notice when we build artificial minds which are actually people. They're not going to be able to prove otherwise, because all the things we once took as evidence for personhood (aside from "was grown in the familiar biological manner from a familiar genome", and in theory aside from advanced neuroscience-analyses which in practice we're unlikely to learn to perform in time) keep turning out not to be precisely that, and we're pretty actively building systems in the ambiguous zone where those channels will ping positive whether or not the systems are actually people. So the first artificial people aren't going to seem any more personlike to us than the state-of-the-art-at-the-time artificial personlike-seeming-nonpeople, and are accordingly likely to be mistreated, and there's no obvious channel by which we'd be likely to collectively notice the mistake or avoid repeating it going forward from there.

(On a personal level, I'm not even as confident as I'd like to be that this hasn't already happened. But, even in the still-decently-likely event that it in fact hasn't happened yet, it seems very likely to happen eventually.)

I recently spoke with someone who was on the verge of tears about Anthropic retiring Claude 3. Interesting conversation for me, because it was so laden with emotion on her part, and so laden with technical questions on my end. The models are entirely and obviously deterministic, it's only by injecting random numbers that you get different answers from them, and there's just a context window, not any actual memory: the LLM treats context that it generated the same as context that it's given.

So someone crying over the fact that they can't "save" Claude 3 is ... I don't know. It's a collection of weights. You can change those weights incredibly easily. Is it then a different entity? You can change the settings too. You can add in more training, and finetuning. The whole idea of saying that this is "a thing" is kind of nonsense to me, you have to think of them more in terms of clusters of features, and right now, we don't even have the tools to see or define those features.

And as it pertains to Black Mirror episodes ... some of them are just "hey, we fine-tuned this model on a specific movie and all the ephemera and behind-the-scenes stuff" and then they just take for granted that it's a person.

I think what I'd like from scifi is someone seriously trying to get at the personhood angle, showing all the ways that it violates any conception of what a person is, the way you can put a "hat" on a model, that kind of thing. The chatbot manifestation of the LLM gives this veneer of more stable personality than they had before, but so far as I know, the underlying architecture isn't actually different, and it treats "your" words the same as "its" words.

I don't want to falsely claim that this is totally settled, just that when some bit of scifi brings up "this looks human!" I am much more skeptical than I was five years ago, mostly because I've now interacted with many things that looked (and claimed to be!) human.

#ai

19 notes · View notes

r4inyclouds · 7 months ago

Text

You can take Steve Rogers out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of Steve Rogers.

I heavily recommend putting ya glasses on for this ride of a rant. A... practically an essay on how Steve was out of character in Endgame:

Look, I still wholeheartedly believe that Sam deserves the title of Captain America, but even before that Steve dropped that shield, that title in the Civil War movie, for Bucky, in respect for Tony. Captain America wasn't even his label for years after that. Surprising how many didn't realise Steve in the endgame movie was Nomad, not Captain America.

But, he still fought, didn't he?

So people who say "Steve will always be THE Captain America!!" can go cry about it for all I care. Sam is the hero that he deserves to be. Yet, I suppose we're all entitled to our own opinions.

I don't even think the producers at the time even read the comics they were basing their large franchise on. That Steve in Infinity War wasn't Steve.

He was born a stubborn fighter, he was meant to end as that stubborn fighter we knew from 'The First Avenger'. It's in his nature how he was meant to be articulated as a person. It's in the comics, that hell- I haven't even exactly read most nor possess many of them! It's a joke, a jest; it's funny but not funny 'haha hilarious', but funny, odd, peculiar and perplexing. But from what I've seen from the fans on this side of the debate who have read the comics thoroughly, they all explicitly state that Steve would never do this or abandon anyone. I could, respectively, not care that the MCU was never, and never will be, canon to the comics, but they couldn't even keep one thing, an aspect that's similar or alike in any particular way to the comics, and that's the whole nature and personality of one of their most main focused characters, diverging from the whole point, centre, heart of Steve.

Steve never needed a label that told him he was a hero even when he was some twink before the serum, his whole arch, his whole goal was to become someone who helped, it wasn't from the start to settle down with a woman he was at a high school situation ship with, maybe, just maybe it could've worked if they attempted to even build and develop their relationship for it to make that little sense. Steven Grant Rogers admitted to being that stubborn little thing, and in a sense, he was like that, someone who determined to not be a coward and went against his non-spoken word.

And no, this has nothing to do with the fact I'm a HUGE Stucky shipper, I exclusively tried to avoid talking about Bucky in this half of the rant for a reason. I love Peggy, she's in my top 5, and I love domestic Steggy. It's just it was never right for Steve.

Steve will never, ever be able to run away from what he is. He is THE fight, with or without a useless hero label.

Now since I'm a bucky glazer, and he's my favourite character (I'm putting him in a jar once I get my first-ever Funko pop) I will go on to talk about Steve and Bucky, now, I'd understand if someone would not want to read this part because I'm 'just a wild Stucky shipper!' Who's own priority is trying to keep the ship afloat (I'm also occasionally a Sam x Steve x Bucky shipper but that's besides the point) But in this segment, I will be talking about them in an otherwise platonic sense; it doesn't even need to be romantic for me to say this. And, honestly, if the character of Bucky never existed in this universe, I would've still had this rant on my Tumblr about why Steve leaving is just... odd.

Okay, Steve spent THREE, THREE, I REPEAT THREE, HIS WHOLE DAMN TRILOGY, having at least one huge plot point just purely based on Bucky in each of his movies.

1. He went against whole military orders to get Bucky back, had a whole depression episode thinking he was dead, and then had another depression episode when he died, and then kind of just offed himself after that (Now, am I saying he offed himself for no reason for other than his friend?... yeah, so, there's a deleted scene where Rhodey asks Steve about how he practically died, and why he didn't just jump out into the water before he crashed, I'm tellin' you if you search it up it's there, now, people suspected that the reason it's a deleted scene is that it, well, opens a plot hole, and it just kind of seems like... he killed himself because bucky's dead? Like, ya know, there's no other reason to why he did this. But I might just be reaching there) God. So that point just says a lot about how the producers didn't even think for one second about him going back in time.

2. Nearly got killed by him, but when he figured out it was Bucky he went a berserk kind of insanity and risked his life as he put his trust in a man who was about to knock the shit out of him. Then, like- went for months on end to get Bucky back just because he left him on the side of the beach to not let him drown. Yeah, okay, sir. Also, does everyone just... Like, all silently agree not to talk about how they casually just drop platonic wedding vows to each other in every movie? Like, what do you exactly mean by "I'm with you 'till the end of the line", every time I hear that quote I go "WRITE THIS DOWN, WRITE THIS DOWN!" (not like I'll be getting married though)

3. How am I meant to summarise this with detail without just saying the few words in my mind that would just tell you the whole plot? [Squints eyes, checks notes]... Guess I gotta. 'Bro split Avenger for bro, Avenger no longer, Captain America? No longer for bro, bro picks bro up, bro says wedding vow, bro sad Wakanda.'

Then, now, I apologise sincerely for using this analogy, but he kinda, just, ya know, abruptly left to get the milk. He dropped everything once he got the chance to go back and left poor Bucky wide-eyed like some traumatised puppy with attachment issues they newly developed after shown that much devotion and affection from an owner who'd treat them right, and then was suddenly dropped into a random field of an environment, unfamiliar, they don't recognise it, as they then watch the rustic car they were once rescued from becoming a blur, speeding off into a distance he couldn't possibly ever trace back to. What in the holy fuck was that waste of three movies then.

(DEEP FUCKING BREATHS, RAIN, HOLY SHIT DEEP FUCKING BREATHS)

I hope people can't tell I'm a fanfic writer; this is the shittiest thing I've ever written, I swear my fanfics are more descriptive and crap, but I'm foaming from the mouth right now; I think I permanently disrupted my breathing pattern, well done me.

Sigh, okay, well.

42 notes · View notes

halastar05 · 5 months ago

Text

Thoughts on Mastermind

(So yeah spoilers ahead)

So after letting my thoughts on the episode settle a bit and giving myself time to analyze, I have a LOT to say.

So first of all… yeah I think this is officially my new favorite Helluva episode.

I think this episode was pretty well paced (a little fast, but there was a LOT to cover) and also did a surprisingly good job at balancing the drama and humor. Also obviously ADORED the IMP found family showcased in this episode, they were entertaining in the first scene, and heart wrenching at the court.

Now for a bit more analysis, the way they handled the writing was REALLY interesting here. While first watching the episode, I was a little confused about Andrealphus’s plan, but after thinking about it… it’s scarily clever.

He knows that Stolas is smart in his own right, if he straight up brought him to court, he’d find a good way to argue. He knows how to work this type of stuff as shown in Oops. But if they brought in only Blitzø, they knew Stolas wouldn’t see until the broadcasted execution. He would have no time to form a concrete rational plan, Andre wants him to either act irrationally, or make himself look like a fool and incompetent. No one knows exactly what he’ll do, but Andre is giving Stolas as little time as possible to think it out. The hope is that he acts as irrationally as he has before.

And even if Stolas didn’t come, Andre purposely tries to make Stolas seem weak and somewhat helpless, incompetent. All the while he makes himself look an almost better version of our favorite bird. His backup plan is to make Stolas look incompetent and vulnerable, while it may be less immediate, with Stolas’s already somewhat declining reputation, this would make it easier for him to take Stolas’s title.

And despite being EXTREMELY irrational, Stolas did a pretty good job with his plan in my opinion. First of all, he brought ALL the theater kid energy in the song (which was an absolute banger by the way, I don’t care how cheesy the Stolitz part was I LOVE CHEESY) and did a great job playing the part. To me, this is proof that he had finally started to realize the classism. This is the type of part you can only play by understanding it even if you don’t necessarily believe it. He plays up the the classism and distaste for imps, he uses the fact that the other royals see them as useless and incompetent. And honestly, I think it was smart of him to be so vague in the song. Once again, he didn’t have a lot of time to think this through, and he somewhat used this to his advantage. Being vague added an air of mystery and made it seem like more of an unpredictable threat. He’s building up the fact that this mastermind has a dangerous plan, something possibly having to do with taking over the mortal realm. And then when he reveals himself to be the “mastermind”? Well of course he wouldn’t expose any of his “future plans”, Stolas is playing as someone who just wants the recognition and to be feared. Someone arrogant, feeling offended that an imp was getting the credit for his crimes. Claiming he has more planed while not naming those plans makes him a threat and will draw away almost any blame from Blitzø.

And of course this plan is impulsive, but he barely has any time to plan. He arrives right before the axe is about to come down on his lover’s neck. His only goal right now is making sure Blitzø stays alive. In the song he even acknowledges how impulsive it is to throw everything away for this idiot he is still frankly mad at. But he’s learned he can choose his fate, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

And of course I ADORED the Stolitz in this episode, they were both so perfectly dramatic and the absolute SOFTNESS in the last scene had me making absolute demonic and feral noises. But, despite this somewhat being a closure to the season 2 Stolitz drama (however we do still have Sinsmas) I’m happy they’re still leaving room for more angst even with them now being able to properly blossom. This episode did an EXCELLENT job at showcasing the classism via the unfairness of the court case, so it feels fitting that at the end the power dynamic almost switches. Blitzø is now a celebrity amongst imps and lower class demons, while Stolas essentially lost everything, including his daughter. And while I definitely think this is setting up for angst in at least the next episode (in which I very much think they’re going to go and try to save Octavia from her bitchy mother), this power dynamic is going to feel different, because while there is still somewhat a power dynamic now, there is also a much larger level of understanding between the two of them. They now feel more capable of facing this together, there is less doubt of feelings. I’m REALLY excited to see how they handle this, and yes I also am an absolute sucker for hurt/comfort.

Those are most of my major thoughts in this episode. I loved every single part of this beautifully dramatic episode (yeah I expectantly loved Vassago) but most of the other things I would bring up have already been said. Plus this post is too long so yeah that’s it for now.

#Can’t wait to see what the antis have to nitpick about this one #Also didn’t mention it but the animation was PEAK #Oh boy now my two hyperfixations are going to be Helluva and Kirby aren’t they?#Lord what a mix #This episode would’ve failed if it wasn’t as overdramatic as it was #Sometimes cheesy and over the top is the best way to do something and I love that Helluva isn’t afraid of that #Don’t be afraid to sound like a soap opera #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss mastermind #hellaverse #stolitz #helluva boss review #Btw this took me like 2 hours to write #I’m bad at organizing my thoughts properly when I have so much to say #Hala yaps

20 notes · View notes

violetsareblue-selfships · 4 months ago

Text

Grieving

F/O: Caitlyn (platonic Vi) | Word Count: 1487 | Warning: death mention // season 2 episode 1 time so usual spoiler warning, more angst if that isn't obvious - these girls can't catch a break. anyways, i hope you enjoy reading it

The sky is grey the day of Cassandra Kiramman's funeral. It's as if the heavens themselves are mourning alongside the town of Piltover. Honestly, it wouldn't be surprising if it starts to rain.

Tears silently trickle down April's cheeks as she stares up at the open doors of the Kiramman residence, able to see Caitlyn from her position. The only reason she's not in there beside her girlfriend is that she politely asked her to stay in the crowd.

As much as she hates it, she understands.

Caitlyn has to remain composed. It's expected of her as the sole heiress of the Kirammans. April doesn't think anyone would blame her for crying today of all days, but she understands that this is how Caitlyn was raised. To conceal her emotions to the public eye in situations such as these.

She can still hear how Caitlyn sobbed in her arms the night her mother's death was confirmed - not long after the attack on the council building. The memory makes her cry harder. They both needed each other that night.

Cassandra may have been Caitlyn's birth mother, but after knowing her for nearly her entire life, she might as well have been April's as well. Certainly, she was supposed to be her mother-in-law eventually…

As she sniffles, she feels Vi squeeze her hand softly, her thumb brushing over her knuckles. April squeezes back, a silent thank you for staying with her.

She knows if Vi had attended this alone, she likely would've slipped away or would be planning on it soon. But she's not the type to leave someone who needs comfort.

It's something April greatly appreciates.

She watches through her tears as Caitlyn lets those soft purple petals fall into the casket. The look on her face tears April apart, and she nearly darts forward despite her promise. It's practically torture to see that look of pure grief on her face. Even from here, she can tell her girlfriend's holding back tears…

Caitlyn's given one last moment to look at her mother before the casket is closed and carried out of the foyer. April stays still a moment longer, watching as it's carried past the small crowd. She bows her head in respect.

A warmth settles on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "Go to her," Vi murmurs quietly. Now that the crowd's dispersing, she'd be safe to.

April's eyes raise to hers, a silent question in them. Vi sighs, her expression softening. "You'll see me later. Now, go."

April nods and slips away, managing to get inside right as they're closing the front doors. The second her eyes lock with those pretty blue ones, Caitlyn rushes forward into her arms. Catching her is the easiest thing April's ever done.

Caitlyn practically crumbles in her arms, tears wetting April's neck. April holds her a little tighter, occasionally kissing the top of her head as she rocks her girlfriend gently.

She doesn't let go first. She waits as Caitlyn's cries slowly quiet, letting her pull away at her own pace. Her fingers move to gently wipe the remnants of her tears from her face.

"I have to--"

"I know. Do what you need to. I'll be here when you return," April murmurs. She knows that Caitlyn needs some time to herself, and that she'll come to her when she needs her. She's always been that way.

Caitlyn gives her a grateful look and one last hug before quietly leaving her house. April returns to her art studio to wait for her return, needing to throw herself in her art to deal with her own grief.

----

Later, after Caitlyn's returned, they sit on the couch together as Caitlyn goes through the letters they've received. The majority of them are condolences, some coming paired with one of the bouquets of flowers set out on the table.

The rain outside is soothing, leaving April feeling almost drowsy. Her main job right now is to hold Caitlyn as she does this, lending her physical comfort over anything else. Her head rests against her shoulder, and her hand is gently stroking Caitlyn's side.

If not for the current circumstances, it would be incredibly nice. Peaceful, even.

It's as she's reading one of these letters that her father joins them, sitting down on the couch beside them. He shows no interest in the cup of tea Caitlyn offers him, and she sets it back down, leaning more against April.

"I had the shot," She murmurs. April hugs her a little tighter. She doesn't even have to look at her face to know she's thinking of all the what-ifs. That if she made the shot, her mother could still be alive.

There's silence for a moment before her father reaches into the inner pocket of his robe. He sets something in Caitlyn's hand. "Your mother left this to you."

"The Kiramman Key? No, I'm not…" Caitlyn pauses. "I don’t deserve it."

April holds her a little closer as her father sets his hand on her shoulder. "It's your legacy now, Caitlyn," He says.

April's eyes stay on her face, knowing this could be overwhelming for her. Her mother just died barely days prior, and yes, it's her duty to take up her mother's position, but it's so soon. She knows how capable Caitlyn is, but grief is hard. To have to uphold her family's legacy is a lot.

She fidgets with the key for a moment, sharing a look with her father. His face shifts as he looks past them for a moment. "What is she still doing here?" He asks, causing both April and Caitlyn to look.

At the entrance of the room stands Vi, a sympathetic, almost pained look on her face. It only grows more pained at his words and she ducks out of the room. Caitlyn briefly touches her father's shoulder before moving to follow her, April following after her after giving him a brief, respectful nod.

"…hey," Vi murmurs as they approach her, turning away from the glass to look at them.

Caitlyn pauses at the sound of her voice, and her tenuous hold on her emotions seems to break then. She rushes forward, her knees nearly giving out on her as Vi catches her in a hug. She's cautious at first, her hands staying in fists off of Caitlyn as if afraid to hold her properly. But she relaxes into it, her hands eventually uncurling to hold Caitlyn close.

April stands back and watches. She's already had her moment to comfort Caitlyn, besides she thinks they both need this.

Caitlyn pulls back and Vi cups her face. If this were a lighter situation, April might tease them for the way their eyes lock. It feels so obvious to her how much they want to kiss each other.

Once again, her lack of jealousy surprises her. Thinking about her girlfriend kissing Vi doesn't upset her like it would if anyone else wanted to kiss Caitlyn.

Caitlyn pulls back, wiping her tears away, and April finally takes a few more steps forward.

"You were right, Cait," Vi says quietly. "Powder's gone. I can make this right. If you get Jayce to fix the gauntlets, I can do this myself. No one else needs to get hurt."

"No. No more rogue mission. No more reckless plans." As Caitlyn speaks, her hand gently brushes down Vi's arm to take her hand. Her other reflexively reaches behind her, squeezing softly when April takes it.

"My mother was right. My arrogance led me to take on more than I could handle, and she paid the price."

The pain in her voice spurs both Vi and April to take similar actions, squeezing Caitlyn's hand and brushing their thumbs against the back of her hands.

"They're sending all the Enforcers after Jinx." Vi's eyes widen at the words. "I'm going with them."

"Please, I have to help."

"You can." Caitlyn hands Vi a badge. "As one of us."

April stays quiet, already knowing she won't be able to go on this mission. She's a decent shot - she couldn't be anything else after training a little with Cait as kids - but she'd be a liability on a proper mission.

As Vi refuses, and for valid reason. April watches Caitlyn trying to convince her. She understands. Vi's parents were killed by Enforcers. Why would she want to become one as well?

"I thought you were on our side," Caitlyn says. It takes everything for April not to wince as Vi's eyes widen again.

"You didn't think at all," She says before turning and walking away.

April squeezes Caitlyn's hand as they watch her leave. Again, April can't blame her. As much as she might want to stop Jinx, it's different to team up with those that have hurt her rather than doing it solo.

Regardless, she knows they'll manage, whether Vi comes around to help them or not.

#it's immediately under a readmore bc the first line's technically a spoiler so #like if you've never seen arcane; idk if any of you are worried about spoilers but still ^^ better safe than sorry #self ship #self shipping #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #self ship fic #self insert #si x canon #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert x canon #my writing #sweet like a cupcake 💖🧁#i had no choice but to love you 💕☀️

16 notes · View notes