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fuctacles · 1 month ago

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bonding activity

For @steddie-spooktober prompt "can you please stop trying to scare them?" | 1427 | T | getting together, fluff, post-canon | brainstormed with @blasvemous | Ao3 | ko-fi

more spooktober: witch

"Steve."

Steve doesn't react. He's standing by the dirtiest window Eddie's ever seen, peeking from behind a curtain to see the groups entering the house.

"Steve!" Eddie hisses insistently.

"What?!" Steve snaps back.

Eddie widens his eyes at him.

"We should get into positions," he reminds his friend as if they haven't been doing this for over a week now.

"Mhm," Steve nods absentmindedly, eyes back on the outside. "You do that."

"Are you waiting for Henderson again?"

"Maybe."

Eddie groans, stepping back towards him. They have about ten minutes before the next group walks in, even more before they get to this part of the haunted house.

"Could you please stop trying to scare him? This house is the same every year, and this kid fought Demogorgons, why do you care about stupid fair attraction?" he presses, crossing his arms.

"It's kind of my duty as an older brother," Steve points out, sparing him a short glance. "Besides, his attitude has been insufferable lately. Gotta teach him a lesson."

That, Eddie could agree with. Henderson has been a little shit about their current gig, talking all cocky about how it was 'entertainment for little kids' and they wouldn't have to do much. Eddie took scaring kids very seriously, thank you very much.

He was also grateful for the scheme Steve and Robin had pulled to get him the job. It was a small thing, but enough to start getting on the good side with the residents of Hawkins. And also a good way to spend time with Steve, his new and unlikely friend. Eddie reminds him of that, too.

"We were supposed to be bonding," he pouts.

"We'll be bonding after I make Dustin pee his pants," Steve responds shortly, making Eddie scoff. But seeing how unwavering Steve is in his plan, he sighs and steps right into his personal space.

"Promise?" he asks, jabbing a finger into his ribs.

Steve jolts, but it has the desired effect of getting his attention back on Eddie. He grabs his hand to push it safely away from his body, his eyes finally focusing on his friend and softening.

"Yeah, man, I promise."

"Great. Because I actually like it here, which I didn't think I'd say about a legal job." Steve snorts softly. "I guess it's fun to work with a friend."

"Yeah," Steve finally smiles fully. "It is."

"And I know you'd rather be doing it with Buckley, but—"

Steve cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"Don't be stupid dude, even the bestest of friends need some time apart. And it's a blast working with you. The way you made that dude cry yesterday? Fucking priceless." He grins.

Eddie grins back.

"Yeah, love how he grabbed onto his wife."

They burst into snickers until a girl rushes past them, reminding them to get into positions. Eddie salutes, and parts with his dear friend.

"Please think about me fondly. I will miss you dearly," he sighs deeply, caressing Steve's bicep.

Steve plays along, reciprocating his longing gaze.

"I am missing you already, darling," he says, pressing a phantom of a kiss onto his hand.

Eddie snickers and skitters away towards his post. For the sake of the job and his sanity.

Eddie's determined to keep Steve's attention on himself instead of people-watching. Maybe constantly bothering him isn't the best course of action but stick to what you know, right?

"You're putting a damper on my fun, Harrington," he says behind Steve's shoulder as he's eyeing the outside.

"I know. I'm sorry." And he sounds genuinely regretful. Like his resolve is slowly falling apart, the point of childish games with his brother slowly getting forgotten.

"You know, you would scare him if you'd just put effort into all of the groups . Keep it at one hundred and you won't miss."

"Yeah, but that's tiring," Steve whines.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Oh my god, you're such a princess," he mutters.

"I'm not." Steve frowns, offended.

"Yes, you are."

Steve already knows there is no point in arguing with Eddie, so he only glares his way. It's not a huge win, but at least he's not looking out the window. Eddie pushes toward victory.

"And you could be having fun, too, if you weren't so focused on Henderson. I, for one, take pride and joy in my craft of making kids pee their pants," he says with reverence, hand pressed to his chest.

Steve raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, and how many times have you managed that?"

"Zero, but I'm still enjoying myself! And I made one girl faint!"

Steve snorts.

"Yeah, you'd be proud of that."

"Well, not all of us can do that without the help of a horror setting." Eddie rolls his eyes. "Which, you could be using to your advantage too," he points out, capturing Steve's attention enough to maneuver him away from the window. "You scare a girl, then you take her to a quiet corner to calm her down, a perfect crime!" he throws his arms up but upon seeing Steve's frown, he backtracks.

"Well, not a crime, of course, but a little, uh, harmless mischief," he amends with an innocent smile.

Steve's shoulders sag as he sighs.

"Yeah, that was kind of my whole point of doing this. But it's harder than I thought," he says with a wince.

"Since when?" Eddie frowns in confusion. "I mean, yeah, your game has been off, but you always went for it anyway. Which, I respect as fuck by the way. I could never." He lets out a small, humorless laugh.

The room falls silent and when he looks up again, Steve is looking straight at him.

"You should try."

"Yeah, probably," he shrugs, but Steve remains unfazed.

"I'm serious. Go for it."

They engage in some serious staring competition that makes Eddie squirm, his whole skin itching.

"Dude, what are you—"

"Have we not been flirting this whole time?"

Eddie blinks.

"Uh."

"I wanted this job so we could be alone for once."

"Uh."

"And I'm sorry for getting distracted with the Dustin thing, but I'm back on track now." Finally, his confidence wavers. "That is, if we're on the same one, you know. I might have completely misread the situation."

Eddie shakes his head.

"No, no. I was, uh, same track, page, yeah," he pulls a strand of hair over his reddening cheeks, but none of them moves.

"Sooo, are you going to, or am I supposed to—"

"Oh, what the Hell," Eddie mutters, grabbing onto Steve's shirt to pull him forward. He places a lightly off-center kiss on his lips and can feel the body under his palms sagging with relief.

Steve hums softly.

"And you said my game was off," he mutters against his lips.

"Oh, you little shit." Eddie smirks dangerously before he presses in without his previous hesitance. If Steve wants to play, Eddie's good at making up his own rules.

They find a wall to rest against, and Steve's hand has just ventured to Eddie's ass when an ear-piercing shriek makes them jump apart.

"What! The fuck!" They can hear Dustin's voice, but he's trying to blind them with his flashlight, so his face stays hidden until the rest of the gang joins him. Someone's light shows his pale, shell-shocked expression.

"Why are you molesting my brother?!" He points accusingly at Eddie. "And you!" He turns to Steve, still braced against the wall. "You were groping my DM!"

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Please, I barely touched him," he scoffs.

"Yeah." Eddie crosses his arms to show his disappointment. "Because you so rudely interrupted."

"Ew! Ew ew ew ew ew!" Dustin covers his ears and moves forward, almost running into a wall in his haste to escape. The rest of The Party follows, though much calmer. Lucas even stalls behind to give the two older boys a thumbs up.

"Congrats." He grins before disappearing after his friends.

"Well..." Eddie trails off once the sound of distressed Dustin fades away. "I'd say we scared him pretty well, so, mission accomplished?" He smiles, throwing finger guns to sell his point better.

"Two missions, even." Steve smiles back, motioning him to come back closer.

"Two birds, one stone. Very time-saving of us." Eddie happily returns to his place in the other's orbit, which also means his ass is reachable again.

"We could go for two birds one hand later?" Steve offers, but all it does is make Eddie laugh loudly.

"Holy shit, you truly have no game, Harrington! You're lucky I dig it."

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mine #Halloween steddie #steddie spooktober #steddie fanfiction #cj x steddie spooktober

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korkorali · 3 months ago

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The Misogyny of It All

So a lot of Della Duck Discourse is rehashed all the time, points are made again and again, but one thing that I almost never see people defend -and conversely, see people attack all the time- is The Line.

You know what I'm talking about. The Line from Glomtales.

"Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you want to be a part of this family, you've gotta stop."

That one.

Now, what exactly Della was trying to get across with that line is a whole other can of worms that deserves its own post (basically she -and also the writers- horribly failed her Speech check).

What we're going over here is how that mimics a certain line from the last season, said by a parental figure to a child, that gets so much less flack. That, in fact, often gets paraded around as 'an interesting twist on a character.'

"You are not family!"

I have never seen people attack this line with the same amount of vitriol as they attack Della's, which is funny when they're the exact same line.

Actually, not even that- Scrooge's is worse.

It's more direct, it's literally yelled at Webby, it doesn't even attempt to address the issue Scrooge had (Webby blaming him for what happened to Della) and instead just straight-up attacks her as a person.

Now, to be fully honest- I like this line! I do genuinely think it's an interesting route for Scrooge to take, and is quite realistic to the grumpy old bastard. It's just funny that nobody ever comes to Webby's defense the same way they do for Louie.

Because the thing is- between Webby and Louie, one of these two has genuine, canonical issues with feeling like they're not a part of the family, like they're an outsider amongst those they love the most, like they don't belong.

And it's not Louie.

It is a consistent part of Webby's characterization that she feels like she doesn't belong. This gets touched on in all three seasons (and honestly, it could be argued that it gets worse after this moment).

Conversely, that just is not a part of Louie's canonical characterization. Even in the first episode of season 2, the one where Louie gets the closest to an 'I don't belong in this family' moment, it's less 'I don't belong here' and more 'fuck me I am terrible at adventuring'. And! It gets resolved in that episode!

(Of course, there is absolutely something to be said for how it's resolved- specifically by Scrooge encouraging him to be a scheming little bastard, which then thusly becomes the thing that threatens his family the most. Which would, logically, be a pretty big blow to his self-esteem. This isn't what I'm here to discuss right now but it is genuinely interesting.)

Louie never really shows an issue with feeling like he doesn't belong in his family. He shows a disconnect with his family at times, but in canon that never really evolves into a full-blown feeling of displacement. It does get close in Glomtales, but never quite reaches it.

So it's 'interesting' (read: not interesting) that Scrooge's fuckup here gets brushed away pretty easily. A lot of the time the line just straight-up isn't addressed, and when it is, often times it's about how "Oh he apologized to Webby offscreen, obviously."

Which.

Not he did not.

I mean, let me be clear: I don't mind it when that's the answer. It works for me to just brush it away if it's not meant to be the focus...

But Scrooge almost certainly didn't apologize for it.

As 'New Gods on the Block!' Showed us, Scrooge is downright awful at realizing when his actions have hurt people.

More likely than not, Scrooge would just assume that everything is fine and would avoid bringing it up at all costs because he'd feel awkward about it. Because he is, very importantly, not good at talking about things he doesn't want to talk about.

So why is it that Louie is always the one feeling like he doesn't belong? Why is it Della who is always a terrible parent for what she's said? Why are Webby's feelings of disconnect never really given the same gravity as Louie's? Why is Scrooge's blunder let off the hook super easily?

It just feels silly to me.

And, well.

Kinda like the fact that, since Scrooge is a guy and Webby's a girl, and Della is a woman and Louie's a boy, has something to do with it.

I'll happily give the benefit of the doubt and assume it's not deliberate, but quite frankly it is a double standard.

I think that people would be less upset with the Della Duck Discourse if Scrooge was held in a similarly critical position over what he's said and done. If it was acknowledged that Della isn't uniquely awful in what she says and does, and that a lot of the others have fucked up in extremely similar ways.

(I mean for fuck's sake, everybody goes on and on about how Della left her kids for ten years -which, for the record, wasn't what she wanted to do- but nobody ever criticizes Donald for taking the kids away from their family and never talking to them about Della- which is something he actively and deliberately chose to do)

TL;DR: The fact that Della gets intensely criticized for what she's said and done, but Donald and Scrooge are conversely celebrated as 'interesting' and 'complex' for what they've said and done, even when it brings harm to the kids, is a blatant double-standard. And if you don't think that this double-standard is bad or wrong for existing (or even that it Doesn't Actually Exist), instead of immediately claiming that it's a non-issue, maybe try to look inward and figure out why you really think that is.

#ducktales #dt17 #della duck #honestly if any of the triplets have a 'I don't belong here' complex it's dewey #like that's his whole season 1 arc #the fact that he feels like he doesn't quite belong in his family #and isn't sure if he WANTS to belong #which everyone instead makes Louie's arc #which is actually more 'I want to be rich because being poor sucked ass'#there's more depth to it than that but that's the gist of it

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nariism · 11 months ago

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*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR

pair. itadori yuji x reader

synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.

content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman

wc. ~4.4k

NOVEMBER 1 2018

You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.

"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.

Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.

You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.

Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.

The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.

He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.

And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.

Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.

"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."

Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.

"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.

"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."

"You're not evil, Yuji."

"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.

You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.

"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"

"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.

"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"

His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.

You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.

"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."

You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.

You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.

The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.

"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.

His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"

"I can't until you do."

"That's stupid," he tells you.

It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.

A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.

It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.

You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.

There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.

"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.

"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.

You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.

"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.

"Huh? 2 was way better."

"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.

"2 had the best special effects though."

Your body shifts under his blanket.

"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)

His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.

"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.

Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.

"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.

NOVEMBER 2 2018

You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones.

You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.

Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.

When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.

"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.

He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.

You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.

He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.

You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.

"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"

He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."

You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.

"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"

He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.

"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."

Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.

"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."

"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"

Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.

"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.

The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.

You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.

Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.

You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.

A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.

To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.

Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.

The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.

Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.

He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.

You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.

"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.

It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.

The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.

It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)

At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.

Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.

His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.

"What?" You ask.

"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.

"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.

He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."

You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.

Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.

An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?

"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.

He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."

You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.

For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.

(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)

Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.

You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.

If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.

"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.

But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.

Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.

Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.

He kisses you like it's his last day on earth.

You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.

Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.

He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.

You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.

It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?

Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.

Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.

"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly. You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."

There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.

"Like I could just... reach out and—"

"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.

When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.

It was nice to have you fawning over me.

You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.

"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.

(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.

So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)

NOVEMBER 3 2018

The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.

His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.

Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.

It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.

"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."

"I can fight!"

"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."

Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.

"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"

Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.

You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"

Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.

"We will."

You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.

“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”

You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”

She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.

“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”

“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”

You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.

Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.

“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.

You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.

You watch as they pack up their things.

Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.

Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.

"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"

You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?

He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.

A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."

I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.

He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.

When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."

Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.

But you stop.

"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.

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wannab-urs · 11 months ago

Text

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you.

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here.

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH.

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming.

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet.

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners.

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?”

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading.

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?”

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap.

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file.

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work.

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner.

“So what are your plans tonight?” he asks.

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe.

“Your plans? For your birthday?”

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet.

“Me and Murphy could take you out?”

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,” Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door.

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life.

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve?

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door.

“Peña? What are you doing here?”

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face.

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.”

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware.

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.”

“Fine… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you.

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better.

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you.

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little.

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip.

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty.

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue.

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips.

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.”

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?”

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt.

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Come for me, baby.”

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you.

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you.

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.”

He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?”

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you.

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.”

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you.

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter.

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly.

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

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rainychaoloveshack · 6 months ago

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Can you do Boom!Sonic x reader with an angsty scenario? Maybe Sonic says something about the reader and they take it the wrong way which leads to internal conflict? Canonically in the boom universe he tends to be rather cocky and says things that come out wrong. Thank you so much, please take care of yourself.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic’s arrogant behavior is becoming too much to bear.

synopsis. boom!sonic x gn!reader, light angst, sonic thinks he's too cool for help... (he doesn't wanna admit he's worried for you)

☂︎ wc. 1k ☂︎ a/n. im so sorry this took so long anon!!! ;( i had to do some of my own research for his character. i went through a small writing stump while writing this one. if you'd like a rewrite, just let me know! might just end up doing one anyway...

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

⋆｡˚ 🌨 ˚｡⋆｡🌩˚☽˚｡⋆

☂︎

“It’s just Egghead back up to his schemes again. His robots have been popping up around town more often.” Sonic stretched his arms up high, taking in the golden-hour sunshine cast on the two of you. “It’ll be way too easy to just knock him down a peg!”

You copy his movement, grinning at the thought of going on another adventure with Sonic, despite going on one with him yesterday and having to get patched up a bit because of it by Amy. It happens so often, but you really can’t seem to get enough of it, letting the sunshine almost blind you as you turn your head to Sonic, feeling the warmth cast on every part of your body.

Shame that Eggman’s up to his dumb plans. If he wasn’t, maybe you and Sonic could’ve relaxed at the beach together, cuddled up on a beach towel while you two sipped on some coconut milk. Pity.

Sonic notices you mimicking him, and a grin spreads wide onto his face. “Oh look, I’ve got myself my very own mini-me, huh?”

If you could hush him up right now, you would. But you shake your head and stick your tongue out teasingly, rolling your eyes over at him. No wonder Eggman’s always out to get him, this annoying little idiot. But it’d be best if you both got a move on now before it gets too dark.

Sonic’s smile falters at you bringing up Eggman’s name, causing his body to tense up ever so slightly.

“... Yeah, come on.” Sonic beckons you over, but it’s not hard to notice the lack of energy in his voice, so suddenly at that. You open your mouth to ask about it, but shut it rather quickly. Would asking him that make him feel more uneasy? You’d rather not find out, so you walk towards him, and continue on.

Sonic starts at a fast-paced jog, but slows down almost instantly, his ear twitching with uncertainty. You stop a bit away from him, noticing the sudden shift in demeanor.

“Hey, uh, [Name].” Sonic says softly, looking at you from over his shoulder. “How about I handle this one by myself, yeah?”

… What? You tilt your head at his proposition, clearly confused. Who else could he go with right now? Everyone else is busy, running errands in their daily lives, or fixing their own issues, and since it’s just you and Sonic here, why not? What gives?

“I don’t want you to-” Sonic scowls, shaking his head at his blabbering words, before backtracking. “I got it. I can handle this easy-peasy, so… You can just stay here, okay?”

What the hell is he talking about? Well, you understand it, at least the smallest bit. You’re hurt, but it's not as though you can’t fight. A gash in your arm will do you no harm in combat.

Sonic sees the dissatisfaction on your face, and shifts onto one leg, stretching it out before switching to the other one.

"You-" He starts, but changes his words rather quickly. “I don’t want you to slow me down.” He mutters, smoothing out his quills behind him as he taps the tip of his shoe onto the ground in a rhythm that drives you crazy. “‘Think I’ll do just fine on my own.”

What?

You scowl, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. How much longer is he going to do this act of his? It’s all an act, you know it is.

“Act?” Sonic glares at you for a couple of beats, the silence ringing out between you two only disturbed by the swaying of palm trees, and the waves of water hitting the glittering shore in the sunset. He seemed offended at your accusation, tensing his muscles as his ear twitched downward, an irritated expression reflected on him. “What kind of act are you talking about? I can’t worry about my friend anymore, huh?”

What? Does he think you’re too weak? Pathetic? Does he think you need to be handheld every second of every hour? Coddled?

You grit your teeth, almost with enough strength to bite your tongue off if you really wanted to, brows furrowing as you glare at him. You’re so sick of his antics. Sick of that cocky attitude of his. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks.

Why can’t he drop his pride and that little ‘cool’ act of his for even a second? It’s so infuriating. It makes you sick.

His eyes meet yours, and you can almost see his demeanor falter for a moment right before his body tenses up, and his ears flick down, a growl growing upon his lips. “I mean it.” He snaps. “You’ll see just how fast I get it done without you lagging behind me the whole time. I don’t need you anyway…”

Is that so? You turn on your heel, rage fuelling every step you take on the hot sand as you try to get as far away from him as possible, the thought of even being around him making you nauseous within the moment.

“Huh?” Sonic says softly, clearly surprised as he tries to gather his thoughts quickly enough to form a sentence. “[Name].” Sonic says, remorse lacing his voice, but you don’t want to hear it. Not at all.

He takes a few steps towards you, reaching out to your wrist as his fingers wrap around it. “[Name], c’mon, wa-”

With a fair bit of rough force, you tug your hand away from him, smacking his gloved hand away as you keep your stride going, refusing even to take a glimpse his way.

You leave Sonic standing there, left to fidget with the brown bandana set around his neck in impatience, tapping his foot repeatedly on the ground anxiously. Despite his irritation, he still has the words still bubbling inside his throat, threatening to come out.

“[Name],” Sonic says under his breath, even if he knows that you’re already far gone. Too far away to hear him.

“I’m sorry, [Name].”

#possibly ooc #sonic x reader #sonic #sonic the hedgehog x reader #boom sonic #boom sonic x reader #thank you for your request!

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anghraine · 5 months ago

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Despite my occasional gripes with Tumblr Austen fandom, sometimes I get recommended or linked to something and remember what Austen fandom off Tumblr is like.

I was checking a message from my mother on another platform and immediately was recommended a group discussing what were essentially headcanons about Lady Catherine. The OP was fine; her question was interesting and she kept gently pointing out that a lot of widely-held fandom opinions are neither stated nor implied in the book. But a good 80-90% of the fairly numerous comments were the same old "Lady Catherine is lying about her relationship with her sister" "she was jealous of Lady Anne for being sweet and beautiful" "she probably wanted to marry Lady Anne's husband herself" blahblahblah.

It wasn't complete consensus, but so near to total agreement that it was kind of astounding. Especially given that, for instance, the fanon of young Lady Catherine being jealous of Lady Anne is wholly fanon with zero evidence in the book or even the major adaptations. The insistence that Anne de Bourgh was not actually in her cradle at the same time as Darcy and should be significantly younger than him, that he wasn't really intended for her from the moment of his birth, that Lady Catherine saying so is further proof that she's exaggerating and/or lying, and that Lady Anne must have been completely different in personality, so much sweeter and prettier than Lady Catherine and Lady Catherine was super jealous and mean towards her—it's all entirely manufactured by fandom.

And while Lady Catherine is a flawed, petty, snobbish, deeply obnoxious, and rather silly person, I've always found something strange and unpleasant about this propensity for inventing so many more, and worse, reasons to hate her and frame her as an antagonistic polar opposite to her sister (a sister we know very little about). And I'm especially weirded out by the kind of desperate straining to dispute the Lady Catherine-Lady Anne marital scheming backstory that is a fairly minor element of the plot that no character in the book has any difficulty believing.

Here's Elizabeth's response to Lady Catherine trying to leverage the planned engagement against her, for instance:

"But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others."

So it's like ... it's not just that I think there's no canonical basis for disputing this bit of backstory. The thing I've always found much weirder is why so many people want to dispute it. Where is all this discomfort arising from? A pair of aristocratic women married to wealthy, powerful landowners in 1770s/1780s England informally arranging the marriage of their only children is not particularly strange. Yet there is a ton of fannish discomfort around it and around the possibility that Lady Catherine and Lady Anne got on well enough to make such an arrangement.

The discomfort is even more conspicuous because we know so little about the sisters' relationship. It's like:

1) Lady Catherine's daughter and only child shares her sister's name, Anne.

2) Lady Catherine claims that she and Lady Anne planned their children's marriages when both were infants; Wickham also mentions the planned engagement in passing, apparently to reinforce his claims to special knowledge of the Darcys' concerns.

3) Lady Catherine is the only person in the novel who specifically mentions Lady Anne on more than one occasion.

4) more tenuously, Lady Catherine believes daughters, in general, are never all that important to their fathers, an opinion presumably encompassing herself and her sister wrt their father the earl.

The only other quality about Lady Anne suggested by anyone in the novel is Darcy's very carefully-phrased suggestion that his father (rather than Lady Anne) was extremely amiable and benevolent, more than his mother, though both were good people. So the idea of Lady Anne as this sweet and pure ideal mother figure who couldn't possibly have been on genuinely good terms with her awful sister or been party to dynastic scheming while Darcy's father was more reserved and standoffish like him is pretty much entirely manufactured by fandom as well.

I guess my feeling on seeing this still going at full throttle in 2024 is that the "Lady Catherine must have been mean to and jealous of her perfectly sweet sister who of course never agreed to any of this nonsense or was just trying to get her to shut up" thing is such a weird takeaway from pretty much every single thing we hear about Lady Anne and Lady Catherine. It seems completely non-intuitive as a take on what little we do know of this backstory and how the other characters react, and the version suggested in the novel is neither shocking nor central to the story, yet there's this palpable fannish discomfort about it and about Lady Anne potentially being fine with Lady Catherine and less of an idealized icon than her husband.

I know I've talked about this many times over the years, but running across it still going at full force in July 2024 was pretty surreal.

#anghraine babbles #anghraine rants #long post #austen blogging #austen fanwank #lady catherine de bourgh #lady anne darcy #anne de bourgh #fitzwilliam darcy #pride and prejudice #jane austen

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lamb-of-seven · 2 years ago

Text

Head-Canons for the Demon Brothers 4

Prompt: You Catch Them Masturbating

!!Minors and Ageless Do Not Interact!!

Content Warning: Very Suggestive. Discussions of Kinks and Sexual Fantasies. Descriptions of Masturbation.

It’s Sunday Smut-Day! So here is anouther HC of the Obey Me Demon Brothers. Enjoy!

Also I wrote this late at night and I do not feel like proof reading and editing it. I got work in the morning lol.

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Lucifer: My personal head canon is that Lucifer doesn’t often masturbate. I think he is a mix of too exhausted and too prideful to pleasure himself alone. However on the rare occasion he finds himself in the mood, I picture he primarily masturbates in the shower. To him its both more convenient and less messy, so he won’t have to waist time with clean up. Catching him in the act is nearly impossible. There is not simple, oops you walked in moment. Instead the only way you end up catching him in the act is either deliberately on his part or on your part.

One late night after a long week where Lucifer had gone on a major punishment rampage of HoL and all it’s inhabitants, some of the brothers (Satan, Belphie mostly) had dragged you into a scheme to mess with Lucifer. It started off rather innocent, after all you had to shoot down some of the brothers more dramatic plans. You were going to help by taking advantage of Lucifer while he was vulnerable and in the shower. You sneak into his room as instructed, with the devised paint bomb Satan told you to hide. While you creeped around his bedroom looking for the perfect spot to plant it, you hear Lucifers voice saying your name from the bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin, so sure he has sensed you somehow sneaking around his room. Before you could answer, you heard him calling your name again, more husky and deep this time, it sent shivers down your spine. It was commanding and frighting but exhilarating the same. You waited a bit now outside the bathroom door, waiting for him to appear, but he didn’t. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear the water in his shower still running. “mmh, MC, yes, just like that. Good Human. Know your place.” Your knees felt week as you listened to Lucifer’s voice moan. Is he… is he…oh god I can’t even say it in my head! You think to yourself, your face turning a bright red. You suddenly hear him grunting a bit louder and faster, knowing what was coming next. Complete shocked, aroused and a bit humiliated, you dash out of his room, still clutching the paint bomb. You ran past Satan and Belphie stuttering about how you won’t do it and locked yourself in your room.

Mammon: He’s such a Simp for MC, a partier, and some of his lines when you touch him are suggestive, no one can tell me he doesn’t jack off at least once a week. In my head cannon, Mammon prefers to masturbate in his room, but he’s greedy and impulsive so I could see him quickly pleasing himself in the Bathroom at RAD after having some naughty intrusive thoughts, especially about MC. Catching him in the act is almost too easy, and has probably happened more than once.

One night Mammon was chilling on his bed, completely nude and tossing and turning among his blankets trying to sleep. He was getting more and more frustrated as time passed, his cock semi hard and his mind racing. Ugh whatever, I’ll try jackin’ off. Maybe that will get me tired. Mammon simply laid on his back, his head resting into his plush pillows and blankets completely tossed off of him. One hand wrapped around his thick member as he slowly stroked it and rubbed the tip a bit with his thumb. His other hand scrolled threw some porno videos on his go too sight, and while they peaked some of his interest, he was struggling to get himself worked up. Mammon glanced around before bringing up a secret video/photo album on his phone. It was a collection of videos and pictures of you in poses or doing things he found erotic, like you bending over his pool table, or the time you all went to the beach together and he got to see you half naked. If you or anyone found out he had these photos he would be dead. He felt his cock start to pulsate and twitch as he watched one of his videos of you on the beach, sprawled out on the sand. He imagined what it would be like to fully undress you and tease you with his fingers tongue and cock. His strokes were becoming more erratic and his breath mixed with heavy pants and grunts. And that’s when you opened his bedroom door shouting, “Mammon, have you seen my…” You got a full view of Mammon, sweating, fully nude with his erection gripped hard in his hands. After a second that felt like a frozen eternity, Mammon shrieked, throwing his phone and covering himself with his blankets. You shriek back with multiple apologies, racing out of his room and slamming the door behind you. Mammon didn’t come out of his room for a week, which is completely not like him, even Lucifer was concerned.

Leviathan: There is no way around it, this boy is a shut in otaku who is so touches starved but too shy to ask, and wants someone to love him (and dominate him). My head canon that I think most of the Obey Me fandom can agree, he’s horny and masturbates a lot. Most likely he has a collection of Henti and toys (Not as much as Asmodeus, but a good amount).

Right in the middle of the day Levi was sitting in his gaming chair was such a throbbing boner that he couldn’t concentrate at all on his game. It was his turn to do laundry this morning, but you had left your clothing in the dryer overnight. He swears his actions were innocent. He wanted to make you happy, so he took you laundry out for you and started folding it, when he saw them. Your underwear. And not just any underwear, these were made of black silk, so soft and sexy. Since that moment Levi has not stopped picturing them on you, how they would softly pinch into your skin, making that cute slight pudge by your hips. T hey way your ass would look in them. The way the black silk would cling to your sex. He couldn’t take it. He abandoned his game and quickly pulled his pants and underwear down a bit to free his member. His cock sprung to life, the tip dripping with precum. He imagined your voice calling him a pervert. A blush formed across his face. He was so aroused that he didn’t even grab on of his toys or even any lube, instead he wrapped his fingers around his member and started to pump. His toes were up on his desk, gripping and curling, while his other hand gripped the top of the chair next to his head. He bit his lip, as he started to think about you straddling him in the underwear, calling him all kinds of nasty names, maybe even running your hands on his body, and licking him. Maybe if he was good you would let him put it in you? Maybe if he begged. Levi started to pump himself very fast now, huffing, and whining and moaning, his hips rutting into his hand as well, his orgasm approaching fast. “Hey Levi wanna play that new game you….” You entered his room without a thought since his door was unlocked. You knew you were suppose to knock and say the password but you were just so excited and now you knew why. The moment Levi’s eyes met with yours he couldn’t stop himself, his orgasm crashed down on him as his moaned/ nearly yelled your name, as ribbons of white exploded out of his cock, covering his body in his own fluids. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he had cummed so hard. However clarity settled in too fast as he screeched, sobbed and fell out of his chair trying to get his pants back on. You yelled out your apologies as you ran down the hall back to your own room. Levi was mortified. He, like Mammon, also stayed in his room, however for him it was well over a month. He couldn’t even say your name, and any attempt you made to interact would be ignored. It took him a while and a lot of work on your end for him to move past this.

Satan: Personally I don’t see him masturbating that much. I think he prefers an intimate interaction of self pleasuring, but that doesn’t mean he never does it. When he does its almost always after reading a really smutty scene in a book. I don’t think he uses any toys and prefers it to be in the comfort of his own room.

Satan had started a new book recently where the main love interest was described similarly to you. Sometimes he would even catch himself reading the characters name as your name, as the words came to life in his mind it was as if he was reading a wonderful love story between the two of you. And tonight he was reading a rather thrilling chapter where the two characters finally become intimate with each other. As Satan’s eyes hungerly read the page, he couldn’t help but notice his hips squirming, his bulge becoming more apparent, and desiring some friction. His one hand starts to rub his cock through his pants. As the chapters starts to vividly describe the characters fighting for their climax, he pictured both of you in that scenario, and the slight rubbing was not enough. He unzipped his pants, letting his cock swell in his hand and began stroking himself, never taking his eyes off his book. His breath coming out in pants as the characters get cloer like himself. He didn’t hear your knocks. You entered his room, just peaking your head in calling his name. He was reading on the couch and jumped when he heard your voice. Satan tried to loudly talk about anything while he stuffed himself back into his pants and hoped you didn’t hear him zip them back up. However when he saw your blushing face, he knew that you had caught him. It made his heart quicken and blush color his face as well. “I’m sorry, I see your busy I’ll go.” You say and quickly left his room before he could even tell you to stop. Unlike Mammon and Levi, he was only a bit embarrassed. He didn’t hide in his room at all. He actually found it a bit thrilling and erotic that you caught him.

Asmodeus: My head canon is that he purposely leaves his door unlocked or even open when he is masturbating. He is proud of his body and wants everyone too see him, sometimes hoping for someone to join in with him. Catching him is too easy. He’s the personification of lust so he uses everything and anything.

The first time you catch him is on a regular school day in the afternoon. Asmodeus was admiring himself in the mirror, his new skin care products made his skin look absolutely flawless over his entire body. As he stripped out of his uniform he couldn’t help but feel a bit aroused by the feel of his own body. His cock was already twitching and standing erect by the time his pants were off. His fingers slowly and erotically rand up and down his thighs hips and belly, sending shivers through out his body. If only MC would come join me and admire my beauty right now. His inability to charm you was a sore spot for him but thrilling to imagine that moment he wins you over. He imagines with on your knees, completely undressed for him, simply wide eyes as you marvel at his perfect body. Asmo closes his eyes and imagines all these touches come from your hands. Asmo reached for his sensual body lubricant as on of his many stimulating toys. He laid down in front of his mirror, going between glancing at himself and closing his eyes to imagine the two of you getting intimate together. His hands stroked his member sensually while the other used the toy on his most sensitive spot. He whined and moaned out. That’s when he heard a knock on the door and knew it was your knock. “Come in MC, Perfect timing.” Asmo said with a panting breath. You walk in thinking everything was normal, and let out a large gasp as you see Asmo on the floor filled with ecstasy. “I was hoping you would join me MC.” Your heart is racing and face is on fire at the sight and offer. However you reject it by stammering and leaving his room, unable to say a single cohesive sentence. Though it hurt Asmo’s ego that you didn’t stay was him, he took your cute shyness as a compliment and continued to imagine it was he climaxed. You’re the one at dinner later that night who can’t seem eat there food and was incredible distracted while Asmo kept giggling as he teased you.

Beelzebub: I feel like Beels Horniness is not that low but not that high. He’s like right in the middle. I think when he does feel aroused he typically masturbates. He’s the Himbo of the group and we love him for that, so I find he is super simple minded about things. For example, I feel hungry, so I eat. He feels horny so he jacks off. It’s just as simple as that. He likes his privacy so he will do it in places where he is alone like his room when Belphie isn’t there or the shower.

One day when Belphie was napping in the attack, Beel returned to his empty room after practice. He was already showered but still felt so achy and exhausted. He laid on his bed to take a quick nap and ended up in a very deep sleep. He was happy though because he was able to dream of you and the two of you were walking through a beautiful forest where everything was edible. You had gotten covered in rare sweet honey and allowed Beel to lick it off of you. In the dream Beel found your skin very tasty with the honey and you let him take off your clothing and cover you in more honey to lick. Beel got to kiss and lick new places on you and started to feel very excited. Even in his dream he could feel how hard and needy his cock was feeling. You had pushed Beel down and drizzled honey on his member and now you were licking him. The excitement of the dream resulted in Beel waking up from his sleep, his cock throbbing and wet with precum. Beel closed his eyes savoring in his dream as his strong hands wrapped around his thick member and pumped it to the same rhythm of your mouth in his dream. Beel let out low grunts and clenched his teeth as his continued to pleasure himself. “Oh Beel I’m glad your back I was just…” You were so used to safely walking into the twins room that you never bothered knocking. You let out of squeak when you realized when Bell was doing. Beel immediately stopped and sat up straight in bed, his face red and his words simple stutters. You both start apologizing. As you turn to leave you promise to knock next time. Beel was left to sit in bed debating if he should continue or if the moment passed and he should get a snack. I think he would have a hard time making eye contact for a good week. Until you both share a meal together and hes back to normal.

Belphegor: I fully believe he’s someone who will slowly jack off and half the time never finish before he either loses interest or falls asleep. I also thing that when he does fully masturbate, it’s if he can’t sleep and needs something to exhaust him, or he does it in his sleep when having a very vivid dream. Boy has more wet dreams than anyone. Catching him in the act is rare simply because it’s rare that he does it.

However on this particular night, Belphie was having such a hard time sleeping. He had been resting a lot recently since school was on break and now he was laying in his bed listening to Beel snore as time ticked on. Maybe a change of scenery would help. Belphie crept through the halls of HoL. He passed your room, noticing the door was slightly opened. He peeked in to see you soundly sleeping. He noticed half your body was uncovered, and your were sleeping in only year underwear. Belphie chuckled to himself, and closed your door. He moved on to the attic and got himself comfortable. As he closed his eyes, he noticed that the image of your near naked body wouldn’t leave his mind and his member started to twitch. Seriously Belphie whispered to himself. He tried to ignore it but he couldn’t and now he found himself fully erect. Belphie sighed and flipped onto his back. While under the covers he started to slowly pump his cock as it throbbed and tingled. Belphie bit on his covers as he started to picture you sleeping peacefully. A blush formed on his cheeks at the thought of him possibly entering your dreams and playing with your body, teasing you mercilessly. His pace quickened and he began to moan a little, his eyes shut tight. He didn’t hear your foot steps or see you enter the attack until he heard you gasp a little. He slowed his pace but never stopped and opened his eyes to see you wearing a robe. “I thought you were looking for me when you stopped by my room before ah, anyway I’m sorry I didn’t mean too..” You were a nervous mess and Belphie liked it. “You should be. This is all your fault MC.” You blush, and your stomach flutters. Belphie laughs a little as he sees your face. Your turn and run away. Now you’re the one whos too shy to make eye contact with him and avoid him and his endless teasing.

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bonefall · 27 days ago

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Do you have any plans for Frost’s littermates in ASC?

It's odd that Canon!Curlfeather is portrayed on the screen as a scheming character who was fully willing to manipulate her daughter into a position of power, and smart enough to know that she needed lackeys to carry out her dirtywork... and yet, seemingly had no plans for her other two kids.

On one hand, I can understand her wanting to "use" her family as little as possible. You could say she's willing to make a sacrifice with Frostkit's comfort, but wants to spare her other children from it.

On the other hand... I just don't feel like that works. I want to portray BB!Curlfeather as someone who truly believes every choice she made was good for her children. She might reconsider some of her beliefs based on her closeness to Morningstar while in the Dark Forest, but in life, she is absolutely the sort of person who would have a use in mind for her kittens.

I'm not super proud of these quick designs I made for Mistpaw and Graypaw, but here's a first draft;

You probably notice that they're all dog-like, and that's because they are direct descendants of Bluestar in BB! WOLF MOTIF BABEY

In fact, this is going to be a massive contributor towards their characterizations. I may be shuffling my tree in some other ways to make for better faction drama in RiverClan, but BB!Curlfeather priding her lineage, especially as it connects to Crookedstar and Stonefur, is very important to how it shapes her identity.

DESIGN AND DRABBLE BENEATH THE CUT;

On the wolf motif as a whole;

To begin with; note the apple-leaf eye markings! They are subject to the Mapleshade Curse.

Something I like to play with a lot is misconceptions about wolf behavior. For Bluestar herself, where this all began, I use the myth of the "lone wolf" as symbolism that she never truly acted alone.

At every turn, she had friends and family. Her sacrifices, her ruling style, everything she's ever done, is based on her love for both ThunderClan as well as the cats in other Clans.

The symbol of her friend group, the Forget-Me-Not, comes to symbolize Fire Alone as an ideology.

So... the Curlkin.

What I'm playing with is the idea that wolves are perfect, ferociously strong predators from birth.

Curlfeather wants to eventually give her children strong, respectable positions in the Clan. For Frostpaw, that's the Cleric position.

For the other kids, she was still assessing them as they were growing. Deputyship would have been for one of them, but she hadn't planned so far ahead that it would have been unreasonable.

"When you see a fish upstream, you don't race ahead to catch it downriver."

So, she wanted Mist and Gray to be strong and always encouraged them to achieve greatness. They were battle training as soon as they could, and never missed a day.

But it wasn't really their interest, and they weren't really "naturally gifted" or anything. They just do what their mom tells them is good to do for their future.

As a result I want all of them to look a little goofy in some way, except Curlfeather herself.

Frostpaw herself is the softest of the lot, but I want to make sure Gray and Mist are pretty obviously sweeter than they seem too.

Unfortunately though, I don't think I captured what I was going for. I'm definitely gonna give the Frost Siblings a second pass, while Frostpaw will just get refined a little.

Graypaw

He's naturally huge. Even as a newborn, people would comment about him being a big fat kitten.

As a result, he was probably the most "promising," early on.

Understand though; this wasn't necessarily nefarious. Having accomplished warriors as offspring is a sign of a great warrior, it makes a strong family.

It didn't mean she only saw her largest child as an opportunity. He just had great potential, which she would nourish.

He's a little bit entitled as a result. He's big, he works hard, his family's a big deal, he knows it.

And that's sort of his "issue," if you want to call it that. He's not really interested in honor for honor's sake, or improving himself for the sake of the Clan, the way his mother would expect a great warrior like herself to be.

He likes the tangible rewards of strength and is motivated by approval.

...which causes him to be a bully to those he considers weaker.

That ear got shredded in a fight somehow, I haven't decided yet if there's going to be another set of apprentices around the time, if it was Splashtail or his sister, or if it was a cat from another Clan who got tired of his shit lmaoo

(In any case it was NOT his mother.)

Since him and his sister have "obedient to their mother" as major personality traits, I decided to give them both domestic dog characteristics. Graypaw has a german shepherd "stance."

I really like when people give Gray some cream in his design, so I made him look kinda like how I imagine Stonefur.

I don't really like it, though, especially since he's usually described as "silver tabby."

In my next draft, I'll probably make him look more like "Swansong if he had the wolf motif."

And also fatter. They are not fat enough. These are RiverClan warriors and they are all too damn skinny.

Frostpaw

Since this arc began, I've imagined that Frosty has a sort of "little red riding hood" vibe. It's been mixing in my head with the wolf motif, the phrase "wool over the eyes," and the idea of a wolf in sheep's clothing to result in a sort of wooly cloak idea.

Something about a wolf cub who doesn't know who to trust-- the Big Bad Wolf, or the Lumberjack with a blood-soaked axe.

Lost, confused, their whole world turned upside down.

(hmmm.... maybe I'll do a thing where, before their mom's death, the wool covers her eyes. When she sees her die, the look of shock and horror is etched into her face forever.)

In BB, the Clan cats are monitored by scientists. They wouldn't be spaying or neutering the subjects of their investigation-- so I made her iconic "scars" MUCH bigger.

In fact, they're autopsy stitches. I'm going for a sort of "BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD" vibe there.

Real "there is no way you would have survived those injuries without modern medicine" hours

I'm satisfied with this design, so I probably won't be changing it much besides tweaks. Though, I might make it so her "belly" wasn't exposed before the scientists shaved it to stitch her back up.

NOTE: If you wanna see more Frostpaw Plans, go check out this post where I jotted down a ton of ideas, it's also got further links to explore on BB!ASC thoughts I've been sitting on

Mistpaw

This is the one I like the least. She looks waaaaay too much like an Ivypool.

In my next pass I need to make her look cuter and goofier, give her some curls.

Like Graypaw, she only has one particularly unique scene in ASC so I'm building her personality around that.

Graypaw was a bit of a bully, so Mistpaw's got her mom's silver tongue and sharp wit. She can give a Mistystar speech if she wants.

She's a natural thinker, very curious, willing to question. It's something Curlfeather encourages in her, always coming in with the right answer to keep her satisfied.

"Mom, why do we train so much harder than everyone else?"

"To outdo them, of course."

"But... why train so hard when there's no threat? The impostor is gone, we're at peace."

"Oh, my love. You cannot pack a week's worth of training into the minute before a battle. They come hard and fast, and your attacker will have the advantage of surprise. Only practice will compensate."

Though Gray was a really big kitten and naturally imposing, Mist would be the one Curlfeather would ultimately decide was most fitting as a deputy.

If they'd gotten to that point, the siblings probably would have gotten in more fights as Gray started desiring the position for its benefits.

He'd see his mom was clearly giving Mist more opportunities to prove herself, and demand equal chances.

Mist would start thinking of Gray as a stupid bully who thinks he deserves everything because his shoulders are big.

BOTH of them would probably start trying to get Frost to support them over the other.

It would have been a MESS.

BUT, they never did get to that point. Curl was pretty equally focused on them at the point where she died.

When Graypaw got his ear shredded, Mistpaw thought it looked disgusting and horrific and "decided" to crop her own entirely. For reasons I covered in this Hearing Loss guide, RiverClan relies very little on hearing while hunting anyway.

I wanted Mistpaw to look extremely practical, and reference the cropped ears of a domestic dog. Give her a sort of "doberman" vibe.

Something struck me that Curlfeather could have talked her daughter into getting her ears cropped, both to show visually that she's politically grooming her just as much as she's politically grooming Frostpaw.

But... I'm unsure if I'll stick with it. I might have both Gray AND Mist get their ears cropped, or neither.

I also batted around the idea of a cropped tail, too, but THAT would definitely be too far since a tail is very important in swimming.

In fact, I made her tail waaaay too short and her build too thin, in the pursuit of that "doberman" idea.

Again; not a fan of this design. I will probably re-use it later or just give it away. Maybe I'll wait until I have a couple of "Rejected BB Designs" and do an adoptable batch lmao.

#better bones au #BB!ASC #BB!Graysky #BB!Mistpool #BB!Frostdawn #BB!Frostpaw #BB!Mistpaw #BB!Graypaw #tagging all the apprentice names as well as the warrior ones

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ninii-winchester · 4 months ago

Text

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 5)

Pairings : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic), Dean Winchester x Lisa Braden (mentioned)

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: heavy angst, spoilers s1-s6, mentions of violence, foul language, brief mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.(no details).

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing

A/n: For the purpose of this series, Sam came back with his soul. Gemma and Will Campbell are OCs.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Bobby watched Dean drive away. He never imagined he'd do something like that. He turned to see y/n on the ground.

"No...no Sammy. Come back." She dug her fingers into the ground. "Please." She sobbed as she continued digging as if the cage would still be under the ground. She hoped by some miracle it would open up and give her best friend back.

"Y/n let go." Bobby tried prying her hands off the ground. "Let go God dammit your fingers are bleeding." He jerked her body upwards and dragged her off to his truck. He made her sit inside and grabbed her stuff from her car. He got into the driver's seat, and took off. After an hour of driving she calmed down.

"Hey! How come you're walking again? I mean not that it's bad but I'm curious." Y/n asked Bobby.

"I sold my soul to Crowley to find Death. He said he could give me anything so he gave me my legs back too."

"Crowley the demon? Gave you your legs back?"

"Strange world we live in." Bobby shrugged. Y/n give him a look. "What?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Excuse me?"

"You sold your soul to a demon? You're gonna have your ass dragged to hell you know that?"

"He said he's borrowing it."

"Wow Bobby, he said and you believed. Thats a demon. You can't trust demons." Bobby didn't say anything after that. Halfway through the drive Y/n called out Bobby's name. He glanced at her urging her to go on.

"I'm pregnant." She said making Bobby hit the brakes abruptly.

"Come again?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" He was shocked to the core at the revelation. She only stared ahead not looking him in the eye. "What the hell were you thinking confronting Lucifer? Are you mad? Did you have no regard for your life or that child's?" Bobby yelled as he started to drive again.

"I'm sorry I just couldn't sit back and watch." She whispered.

"Did you three plan this scheme 'kill Bobby of a heart attack'." He sighed and then he paused. "Who's the father?" He asked.

"Dean." She looked out of the window as the scenery passed.

"Figures. Did you tell him?" She shook her head 'no'. "Will you tell him?"

"Do you really think he wants anything to do with me after the way he left?" She snapped. Bobby stayed silent.

"I'm taking you to a hospital, we need to get you checked." Y/n nodded.

The two of them made their way back home after a long drive and a pit stop at the doctors. She was fine and the baby was healthy too. They gave her some prescription and told her to rest. Bobby had told her she'd be staying with him from now on and he won't take no for an answer. He cared for the three of them like their own. Now with Sam being dead and Dean being God knows where he'd like to keep her here safe. Ever more now that she's pregnant.

"I'm telling you, you should tell Dean. He deserves to know."

"Dean didn't give two shits before walking away from us Bobby, we've known him for years. Do you think he'd care for a bastard child like that?" Y/n retorted.

"Watch your language, young lady. That's my grandchild you're talking about." Bobby scolded her. Ofcourse he thinks of Y/n as the daughter her never had.

"Well news flash Bobby this ain't no love child." Bobby rolled his eyes at her comment.

"I'm sure he'd-"

"You know what actually? I'm sure he would want to know but I don't want to tell him. Walking out was his decision and not telling him about this is my decision." Y/n said walking away.

It had been two months since Sam died and Dean left. Y/n still mourned Sam's death and she missed him dearly. She wondered how he'd react to the news of her being pregnant. She's at five months now. She was in the main room cleaning and refilling her guns. Just because she's not allowed to hunt for the time being doesn't mean she won't be cautious.

She heard a knock on the door and she knew Bobby wasn't supposed to be back until later. She grabbed her gun and stuffed it in the back of her jeans. She grabbed her shotgun and went to the door. When she opened the door, her jaw hit floor. She couldn't believe her eyes. There stood Sam Winchester in the flesh.

"Y/n." He breathed out and she pointed the shot gun at his chest. "It's me, Sam."

"Not you're not. Sam's dead."

"I know I died Y/n but I'm back."

"That's not possible. Who brought you back? Was it Dean?" It pained her to say his name but now's not the time to think about that.

"I don't know what or who brought me back but I'm willing to go to every test." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright." And with that she shot him.

"Ow son of a bitch. That hurt Y/n." He complained.

"It was just rock salt, don't be a bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied and for second her guard dropped. Still pointing the gun at him she grabbed a silver knife from her back pocket and threw it at him. He caught it and sliced his arm, he showed her as the blood trickled down his arm. She then grabbed the holy water and threw it at his face.

"A little warning would've been appreciated." Sam sassed as he wiped the water from his eyes. "Can I hug you now?"

She kept staring at his face. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to main room and made him stand under the devils trap. Sam looked up and then moved away from the trap. Before either of them could say anything Y/n jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back and he felt something different about Y/n as he hugged her.

"How did this happen, Sammy?" She asked as they pulled away.

"Uh i don't know." He replied looking at her oddly. Y/n was thankful that she was wearing one of Sam's shirts, it was huge on her so her body was completely covered. Not that she had huge bump but still whatever she had, it was covered.

"How long have you been back?"

"Two months?"

"TWO MONTHS? SAM WINCHESTER YOUVE BEEN BACK FOR TWO MONTHS???" She exclaimed loudly. "Where have you been for the past two months?"

"Yeah I've been researching, I needed to know how I came back and uh I went to see Dean." He explained.

"You met Dean? Why's he not here?" She shouldn't care but she did.

"I didn't meet him. I just saw him." Sam replied.

"What do you mean? Why didn't you meet him? Where is he?"

"He is living with Lisa and Ben. He uh... he looked normal, he's living the apple pie life he always wanted and I couldn't go up there and take it all away from him." Sam told her with a sad smile. They both knew Dean would drop anything for his brother.

Y/n knew Lisa, she's met her once when they helped her get her son, Ben, back. Lisa was in Dean's life way before Y/n was. That was his only serious long term relationship she's ever known of. Lisa is a wonderful woman and it made sense why he left Y/n for someone like her.

"Was he...did he seem happy?" She had to ask.

"The happiest I've ever seen him. I didn't have it in me to go ahead and ruin everything. He looked so happy but I knew if I went in there he'd leave all of it to be back in hunting. I couldn't do that to him." Sam told her honestly.

"I agree."

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked and the man in question entered the house and gasped at the sight in front of him. He grabbed the shot gun by the stairs and aimed at Sam. "Aw dammit not again."

"It's alright Bobby i checked. I did all the tests." Y/n intervened. The older man lowered his gun.

"Tell me something only Sam Winchester would know!" He demanded.

"A month before I fell, you lost your years to a witch in poker and then Dean lost to get your years back which made him old. But then I won back Dean's years and he turned back to normal." Sam narrated.

"What? When did that happen?" Y/n giggled as Bobby pulled Sam in a hug.

"When Bobby came to help us with the witch. You stayed back when we last hit the road." Sam replied.

"Oh I remember that, but you didn't tell me Dean got old." She laughed.

"Dean told me not to." Sam replied.

"Did you tell him?" Bobby asked Y/n and her eyes widened.

"Tell me what?" Sam asked warily.

"Uh look at that would ya? It's time for lunch. Why don't you wash up Bobby I'll set the table. You must be hungry too Sam." She said walking into the kitchen as Bobby went to freshen up. Sam followed her into the kitchen and she brush past him.

"Tell me what Y/n?"

"Would you like a beer, Sammy?" She pulled out a bottle and passed it to him. He banged his hand against the table gaining her attention.

"Tell me what?"

"I'm pregnant. It's Dean's." Y/n said calmly. The beer bottle slipped from his hands onto floor and shattering into a million pieces.

"What?" He asked completely in shock. Y/n pulled her shirt up a bit and it showed her bump. Sam stared at in utter disbelief. "I had no idea you and him? You and Dean you...?" He stuttered.

"It happened one night. It was a mistake." She lied. Ofcourse it wasn't one night and it wasn't a mistake either. But what can she even tell him.

"Does he know? Did you tell him?"

"No." She replied as she continued to set the food on the table.

"Why? Why wouldn't you tell him? he wanted a family for as long as i can remember."

"And he has a family. With Lisa. And Ben. I'm a hunter Sam, he can't have that white picket fence life with me which has with them. Don't you think he should live with the woman he loves and not with some good lay and a bastard child?" She snapped.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to say that word?" Bobby glared at Y/n as he entered the kitchen.

"What? That's your summoning? I say bastard child and you appear out of thin air?" Y/n replied sarcastically.

"You watch how you speak to me." Bobby's glare deepened.

"You can't kick me out. I'm carrying your grandchild." She stuck her tongue out the man she's come to love, as her father, over the years.

"I can when it's born."

"You wouldn't." She rolled her eyes.

"Are you two done? Because i would like to rewind to the part where you called yourself 'some good lay'." Sam sighed.

"What? You want me to say I was bad?" She joked.

"How are you not affected by all this? Stop acting like it doesn't bother you." Sam bellowed. He knew it must've been killing her inside.

"It doesn't bother me Sam."

"You have to tell Dean." He pressed on.

"I will not and if you did, I will shoot you. Not with a shot gun filled with rock salt but I'll put an actual bullet through you. And this is not an empty threat."

"I know things weren't good the last time we were here, he said things, he was stressed -"

"No Sam. It has nothing to do with what happened the last time."

"What is it then?"

"He left." Bobby said. "After you fell, he drove off leaving me and her behind. He didn't look back and we haven't heard from him since." He said solemnly looking at Y/n.

"I won't tell him. I promise." Sam said to y/n and She nodded. Sam felt a pang of guilt hit him. He remembered the talk he had with hin on their drive to Detroit. If only he hadn't made Dean promise to not find Y/n and go back to Lisa, things would've been different. Dean would've been here with his child and Y/n wouldn't have to go through this all alone. If only he had known. But how could've he known.

"Sam? You zoned out.!" Y/n called out.

"Yeah uhm I'm fine just too much to take in." Y/n nodded in agreement and Sam filled the two of them about the past two months. How his grandfather Samuel is also back from the dead. And he's been staying with him distant maternal cousins for the past two months.

Sam introduced Y/n to Samuel and his family. They've been getting along fine and Sam's back to hunting with the Campbells.

Three months later Y/n gave birth to Adeline Mary Winchester. No-one other than Bobby and Sam knew who the was the father of Adeline. Adeline was the cutest baby Sam had ever seen and much to Y/n's dismay, she looked exactly like her father. She had bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair. She had freckles all over her cheeks and nose just like Dean's. She reminded her too much of Dean.

"She looks exactly like Dean, no offence y/n." Sam said as he cradled his niece.

"None taken, Sammy. I know she looks like him." He placed her in her arms gently. "Hi there sweetheart." Y/n cooed at her daughter. "Isn't she adorable?"

"She's lovely." Sam commented. "I wish Dean was here." She wished too.

"But he's not."

"Because he doesn't know." Sam replied.

"I'd like to keep it that way. And we're not having this conversation again."

Y/n missed hunting. She'd been staying put and helping with research at Bobby's but she missed hunting. Neither of the men allowed her to go on hunts even if it was a basic salt and burn. Adeline had turned four months old three days ago. She was currently in Bobby's arms as she slept and Sam's on a hunt with Samuel.

The phone rang and Y/n answered it before it rang too much and woke up Addy.

"It's Gemma." She's one of Sam's distant cousins. Barely eighteen but a good hunter. "Me and Will are on a hunt and seems like we might need backup." Y/n relayed the information to Bobby hoping he'd let her go since there's no one else. The old man rolled his eyes and nodded. Y/n squealed with happiness and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you. Addy darling mommy's gonna be back before you know it." She kissed her daughter's cheek. "Don't bother the old man okay? I love you."

Y/n packed her stuff and drove her car to the town Gemma told her they would be in. It was dark when she left Sioux Falls and she arrived at the town at 4:20am. She met up with Gemma and Will. They decided they'd get those ambush the nest first thing in the morning. The three stayed in a motel room where Gemma took one bed and Y/n slept on the other. William was kind enough to give up on a bed and opt for the pullout couch instead. It had been a while since Y/n had been in a motel room.

It reminded her of Dean, how he would pull her in for a kiss every time Sam went out. Or how he would make her feel good when they shared a room. How he would make sweet passionate love to her and how the two of them created Adeline in a motel room. Then she felt bitter. He didn't make love to her, he had sex with her. If only he loved her like her told her, he would've never hurt her this bad. Or leave her alone by herself.

The morning came earlier than she expected and the three of them drove to the warehouse which was the supposed Vampire nest. There were nine vampires in total. Y/n hadn't felt this thrill in the past few months and she was thriving on it. Pumped up with adrenaline, she went in for the kill and ended up killing five on her own. All her frustration washing away with vampires' blood . Gemma and Will finished off the other four. The two rookies were impressed by her skills. The sun had set when they were with cleaning and disposing off the bodies. The three skipped town as soon as they cleaned up because a few of Gemma and Will's guns were at the motel, out in the open, the cleaning maid saw them and called the police.

They stopped two towns over to grab a few drinks. It was around nine pm. It had been a long time since y/n had alcohol. They went inside the bar and grabbed a table. Gemma and Will ordered beers but Y/n went for whiskey. She downed it one go and asked for another.

"Hey don't look at me like that, it's been a while i hunted or even drank." The two smirked and cheers to her. She decided to give Bobby a call and let him know that she'd be home in a few hours and asked if Addy was doing okay. To which he told that Sam's back and Addy has been with him since. She sighed in relief when she heard that.

"How's Addy?" Gemma asked.

"She's good. Sammy is back and she's with him right now." Y/n smiled thinking about her little girl. Her Dean jr.

The bar door opened and two men walked inside, one of the them was chattering too loudly which made Y/n look up and she wished she hadn't. She saw Dean walking in with a man she didn't recognise. She watched as Dean heard his friend's chatter with a smile on his face. He looked...normal. Just some guy you'd find at a bar on the weekend. He didn't look like Dean Winchester. The one she knew. She hoped he doesn't see her but has luck ever been on her side? He looked at her and their eyes met.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on her. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. It's almost been an year since he last saw her but the mere sight of her was enough to make him fold. She looked just a beautiful as the day he left her. The day he broke her heart but ripped his own into pieces. She looked like he had gained some weight, but it suited her. And then his gaze dropped to her lips, those same lips that he used to kiss sore, the same lips let out those sinful noises when he made her feel good. Those lips, he'd give anything to feel against his own.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sid asked as he noticed Dean stop.

"Yeah man, I'm good." He said still looking at her. He knows he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself before he spoke, "i think I saw someone from my high school, let's go say hi." He said walking towards her table.

"Sure." Sid followed behind him.

Y/n's heart rate picked up as he got closer, why is he walking towards us. Is going to act like he knows me? The sheer audacity of this man. Hasn't he broken me enough why..

"Hey.! Gracie Henderson, right?" Dean spoke as he reached their table. Gemma and Will turned to look up at him.

Damn you Dean. Fuck you. He had to strike a nerve there. That was their alias when they had to go undercover as a couple. It was always Y/n and Dean since Sam couldn't like a couple with Y/n. He just had to make everything awkward, so it was always Dean and Y/n. Gracie Henderson and her husband Troy Henderson.

Ofcourse he couldn't miss the chance to hurt me again. Y/n thought to herself.

"Huh?" Y/n feigned ignorance.

"You're Gracie right? We went to high school together." Dean said looking right at her.

"Sorry? I think you have the wrong person." Y/n spoke the alcohol in her system giving her the courage to speak to him. "I never went to high school and its Adeline."

"Alright my bad." Dean said, his friend mumbling a sorry before they went to sit at the table beside theirs. His friend went to order for them and he sat there eavesdropping the conversation happening at the table beside him.

"He definitely knows you. That was one of your aliases." Gemma said as soon as Dean left. Y/n shrugged in response ordering another drink. "Cmon y/n tell us why did you act like you didn't know him?"

"Because he's Dean Winchester." She practically sneered his name. Dean flinched at the way she said name.

"What really ? He's Dean?" Will spoke for the first time in awhile. Y/n nodded.

"Why didn't you tell him to join us?" Gemma asked and Will added a "yeah why not?"

"Are you two dumb? What part of his appearance says he's a hunter? He's not in the business anymore. And the guy that came with him? He screams 9 to 5. So what did you two expect me to invite him to our table and reminisce the time we went to a fucking high school to burn the body of his brother's friend and his friend's bully?" Y/n spoke agitatedly and the two nodded in understanding. She downed her drink.

"I can't believe i came here out for this. You two needed backup for nine vampires? You know Bobby doesn't let me go on hunts. I came out to hunt after almost a year and its some stupid fucking vampires." She sighed dramatically.

Dean perked up when he heard her say she hadn't hunted in almost an year. Is she out of the business too? What does she mean Bobby doesn't let her hunt.

"You haven't hunted in almost a year and still you took down five vampires on your own." Will sat there in total awe. "You're my new role model."

Sid had already came back but Dean's attention was still on y/n. He smiled when he heard she took down five vampires on her own, that's my girl. He thought to himself.

"You two kiddos did good too. I'm sorry I snapped, I'm a bit stressed." Y/n said.

"It's alright." Gemma smiled.

"I'll head out." Y/n said grabbing her jacket and threw a few bills to for her bills.

"You're driving back to Sioux Falls?" Will asked and she nodded. "Aren't you drunk?"

"I've only had three drinks."

"Yeah of whiskey." Gemma added.

"Trust me kiddo. It takes a lot more than that to get me drunk." She replied and Dean noticed a lingering sadness in her voice.

The love of his life has been through hell and back and she's still kicking it. He wishes he could just grab her and disappear from the surface of the earth. To keep her from harms way and keep her protected from all the sadness and hurt. He wish he could love her the way she deserves to be loved. He watched as she left the bar before yelling a "get home safe kiddos."

The first thing y/n did as she reached home was to see Adeline. It was around five in the morning when she reached home. She saw Sam in the kitchen eating cereal and looking at his computer while he held Adeline on his lap.

"Good morning." She said as she entered the kitchen.

"Look Addy, mommy's back." Sam said holding her up. The baby giggled as she saw her mother approaching her.

"There's my baby." She picked up Adeline in her arms. "Did you miss mommy?" She asked in baby voice and the little girl flailed her arms, excitedly tapping her mother's cheeks.

"How was your 'first' hunt?" Sam joked earning an eye roll.

"It was good, vamps nest." She said sitting beside him, pulling her hair away from Adeline who was gripping it too tightly.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked noticing the stress lines on his best friend's face.

"I'm fine, why'd you ask?"

"You have that look on your face." Sam replied gesturing to her face.

"What look?"

"That look when something is bothering you but you're too prideful to say."

"I don't have such look on my face." Y/n said bouncing Addy on her lap.

"Y/n." Sam stared at her. He knows it's only a matter of seconds before she's spilling the truth.

"I met Dean okay? No big deal." She sighed.

"What? You met Dean? How?" Y/n filled in him with everything that happened after the hunt.

"He looked like a common man, it was weird seeing him. And the audacity to walk up to me and say hi? He was lucky he was with someone or I would've bashed his face in the table." Y/n growled her hold tightening on Adeline.

"Maybe he missed you and he thought after seeing you again he could talk to you." Sam said hoping he could get her hate him a little less.

"Well he thought wrong." She said angrily making her way out of the kitchen.

"Do you want me to watch Addy while you rest?" Sam called out from behind her.

"I am very much capable of taking care of my daughter on my own." She snapped, she didn't mean she didn't need Sam's help, she always appreciated his existence. But at the moment her words had a different meaning. She wanted Sam to know that just because she met Dean doesn't mean she will let him be in Adeline's life.

Sam sighed as he watched her walk away. He most definitely understood the meaning behind her words. Y/n went to her room and laid Adeline on the bed. She kneeled beside the bed and looked at her daughter. Adeline wiggled amd giggled staring at her mother. Y/n couldn't help but let a few tears run down her cheek. She never wanted this to be her daughter's life, she didn't need her innocent baby to grow up around monsters, without her father being there to protect her.

"How I wish I could hate your father, Addy. I resent him for what he did to us but I still love him. How could I not when he has given me you." She whispered, her daughter stared up the her with her bright green eyes that reminded her so much of her lost love. She placed soft kisses on her chubby cheeks before putting her in her crib. Y/n sighed as she got into bed. Little did she know this was the last time she had a good night's sleep in a long time.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @queensilber @deangirl96 @galway-girlatwork @hobby27

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angelbarelywrites · 8 months ago

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♡ scenarios | dating billy

♡ fandoms; The Boys

♡ characters; Billy Butcher

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; explicit sexual content

♡ notes; he’s the bane of my existence + love of my life tbh

reader isss implied to be working with Billy and in my mind a supe but i made it ambiguous since i didn’t write a meeting section :v but i love the idea of Billy falling for a supe so much

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

I. Kisses/ PDA

> he doesn’t like PDA…or at least that’s what he claims

> Frenchie and Marv give him shit- and Hughie is so supportive it makes him angrier than the others giving him shit

> but tbh they’re all happy to see him happy, and he knows that somewhere under that thick skull off his

> so when you give him a kiss or hold his hand or hug him in the base he grumbles, but he never pushes you away or actually complains

> and sometimes he’ll haphazardly pull you against him without saying a word, cheeks a bit pink as he mumbles something into your hair

> usually a ‘good job’ if it fits the occasion, otherwise a comment about how his coworkers are idiots

> now undercover, it’s a different story

> everyone is a potential threat then- and even worse, everyone is potentially going to bother you

> if he even gets a whiff of someone looking you over he’s got an arm around your waist and a hand not so subtly on his holster

> if you want to get any actual surveillance done you have to shoo him away so he doesn’t scare anyone off

> and even then he’s checking in way more often than he needs to

> it’s hard to get mad at, because it’s sweet in his stubborn, assholeish way

> and if you don’t care about surveillance it’s easy to get him riled by playing into it

> and then he’ll kiss you hard right in front of whatever chucklefuck was eying you

> “hope he’s enjoying the bleedin’ view”

> he’s a big cuddler when you’re alone- another thing he’d never admit

> but he loves when you snuggle up with your head on his chest, listening to his heart and nearly dozing while he goes through files

> or when you’re exhausted on the van ride home and make sure no one is paying attention as you hold with his hand in the front seat, rubbing his probably bloodied knuckles and pressing soft kisses them

> he likes your little late night rendezvous the best, though

> you’re both bad at sleeping, so most nights in the base he’ll find you in the kitchen near midnight brewing chai

> you’ll be sitting on the counter in one of his shirts and smile brightly despite the bags under your eyes

> and then when he comes over and puts a hand on either side of you, you trap him in your legs

> the kisses are sometimes heated, sometimes chaste

> but either way you enjoy the tea, and spend the rest of the restless night together

II. Sharing a bed

> when you’re all living in hiding, space is tight under the pawnshop

> you’ve both got shitty little twin beds, and he’s always complaining about space

> but the nights are getting cold and the heater barely works, so you hatch your evil scheme

> evil scheme might get giving it too much credit. like way too much

> all you plan on is asking to snuggle and never leaving his bed

> but he’s taking forever to get whatever he’s doing done, and you’re tired

> no biggie, you’ll just crawl in and wait for him so you can ask

> the next thing you know it’s two a.m. and he’s nudging you

> “oi. who said you could be in here?”

> you whine and give him the biggest pout, eyes all hazy from sleep

> and not wearing all that much either

> he sighs but you can hear the smile in his voice “c’mon then love.”

> before you can scooch over he’s pulling you on top of him completely, making you feel tiny on his broad chest

> he tried not to seem too delighted when you’re there again the next night

III. Let’s get kinky

> listen. i swear i don’t think every character has a daddy kink. just all the ones i’m super attached to

> but he canonically referred to himself as daddy and that’s not leaving my brain anytime soon. so.

> he refers to you as so many sweet nicknames- and he likes to pair them with a healthy mix of degradation and praise

> “you’re a filthy fuckin’ whore aren’t yah sweetheart?”

> his default is rough. he’s a frustrated man, and he’s been pent up for a while now

> but you can take it. probably.

> he likes choking. and spanking, he loves when you’re a brat and he can bend you over his knee

> mostly because then he can finger fuck you right then and there when he’s done and make you a complete mess

> if you wear makeup he thinks it’s twice as nice with your lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks

> and you look prettiest to him on your knees, already a bit teary and sucking on his fingers until you’ve earned the real thing

> he wants to breed you so bad it makes him look stupid. (tbh not literally, even if it is possible, but god the dirty talk is so good that it doesn’t matter)

> his favorite position is reverse cowgirl- he loves seeing you whine and slowly ease yourself onto him

> and to me- he’s an ass man lmao, he loves watching it as you bounce on his cock

#reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #william butcher #the boys #cw sex #cw kink

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kitixie · 1 year ago

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Little Girl Gone (pt 2)

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (part 2)

part three here

Synopsis: You agree to meet up with Tommy for dinner, but when it doesnt go to plan you find yourself in a dangerous situation.

warnings: violence (not extreme, very canon typical), tommy is not nice but i promise it'll make sense later, cursing

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @budugu , please let me know if youd like to be tagged!

information: Thank you all so much for reading, it warms my heart to know someone enjoys my writing! please leave a comment if you have a critique or anything else to say!

Around 4:30 the following evening, you began to get ready for your dinner with Thomas.

As you brushed and styled your hair, you thought of his strange mannerisms from the night before. He had seemed off towards the end of the conversation, and that was something that never happened, as nothing ever threw Thomas off. Just as the final touches of your hair and makeup came together, you realized the time. You had been so lost in your thoughts and in your indulgent hair care and makeup routine, that you had spent an hour primping and priming. Now only thirty minutes away from Tommy’s arrival, you needed to pick out a dress.

To a man, picking out a dress for dinner may seem like a small task in the grand scheme of his day, but all women know this to be false. First, you pick a dress. Then, you have to pick coordinating stockings, an overcoat, sometimes an undercoat, a bag, gloves, and depending on time of day, a hat. So what most men would deem as a quick process, isn’t a quick process at all. You did happen to be in luck though, as your favorite dress was one of the only items of clothing you’d hung up in your small closet after you moved in. You had your stockings from the night before, and they were a perfect match for your skin tone so that was also an easy choice. You decided to forgo a handbag, as you’d just be going to the Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t need any money. For shoes, you settled on a pair of well-broken-in kitten heels. This outfit was out of your recent rotation, given the odd jobs and such you had been working after your fathers death and mothers disownment, but Tommy always dressed to impress, so you thought you should too. Following that train of thought, you added a pair of your mothers white satin gloves, and awaited his arrival at your place.

6:00 pm

A loud knock sounded through your apartment, and you quickly jumped to open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Thomas Shelby. Looking good as ever in his black suit with a pressed white dress shirt, this time his hat folded in his hands.

“Y/N, you look lovely this evening.”, he remarked, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Thank you Tommy, you look handsome, as always,” you blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Tommy smiled, offering his hand to help you out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment. You accepted his hand, loosely holding it in yours, before dropping it to turn around and lock the door of your home.

Once the two of you had made it to Tommy’s car, he opened your door.

“Always the gentleman, aye Tommy?”, you laughed, giving him a soft smile as you stepped into the car and sank down into the passenger seat.

“For you, yes, always.” He nodded, reciprocating your smile, and gently closing the door.

He rounded the car, getting in on his own side and starting the engine up. It gave a sputter, then turned over, allowing him to put it in gear.

“I could take a look at sometime that if you’d like Tommy.” You spoke softly, wanting to offer your help.

“How do you know anything about automobiles? Did you work as a mechanic in your time away, Love?” He joked, a small laugh followed by a toothy smile coming from his mouth.

“Yes, actually. I did.” You said sternly, not appreciating the mans sarcasm.

“And what else did you do in your time away? I suppose you also learned to train horses, or fire a gun?” He joked again, clearly not understanding your short tone of voice.

“One of those I did, the other I am still clueless about. Feel free to guess which.” You stated, now having grown angry at his teasing.

Tommy feigned a sigh, followed by his imitation of a horses neigh. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of the ride to Watery Lane, only for the conversation to be interrupted by Tommy as the two of you pulled up to park in front of the house.

“Just so you know, Arthur and Pol are here as well. They wanted to hear all your stories about your time away as soon as I told them I was bringing you over.” He spoke, his gaze remaining on your face.

“Okay, Tommy.” You spat, still quite upset about the conversation at the beginning of the ride.

Before he could ask any questions, you pulled open the door to the car, getting out. He tried to catch up to you, but you made it to the front door of the Shelby home before he did, and let yourself in the house. Old habits die hard, as they say.

Once inside the home, you surveyed your surroundings. Not much of the decor had changed, a few updated photos here and there, but mostly everything was still in its rightful place. You made your way through the house at a leisurely pace, admiring all the once familiar details that now seemed new. You made your way to the dining room, while Tommy still trailed behind you, watching your every move.

“Oh dear, it is so lovely to see you again! It’s been so long, how are you?” Pol said, quickly rising from her chair to give you a warm, yet firm hug.

“I’ve been good Pol, thank you. How have you been?” You returned, not only as a formality but because you were genuinely interested in her life.

As Pol rattled off her answer, talking about ‘business this’ and ‘this family that’, you noticed Tommy move behind you. He came around to your left side, pulling a chair out. You remained standing, not wanting to sit if that was where he had wanted to sit, but the soft hand on the small of your back encouraged you to take the seat. You briefly nodded up at him and gave a soft smile, then continuing to listen to Pol.

After Pol had placed food for everyone on the table, you all began eating. Someone had made a delicious meal, one of your favorites. You first assumed it was Pol, but when you complemented her, she quickly told you ‘Oh dear, I didn’t make this’ and cast a look at Tommy from across the table. You didn’t put any effort into figuring out what that glance meant, rather you just enjoyed the food and answered their occasional question. The questions weren’t anything to outrageous, until one came tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth.

“So, Y/N, what made you come back to the grand ol’ town of Small Heath?” He said, smiling at his question.

“I, uh,” you swallowed. You had truly hoped no one would ask, but you should’ve expected it. You cursed yourself for not preparing an answer ahead of time.

Your mouth ran dry for a moment as you tried to formulate what to say that would keep you out of the most shit. You didn’t want to blurt out the truth, but they most likely already knew it anyways, they were the Shelby’s after all.

“My mother and I had a disagreement about my…life plan.” You spoke, satisfied with your answer.

“What life plan, dear? What does that mean?” Pol added to the questioning.

“Probably the same life plan that included her learning about cars and horses,” Tommy said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough, as the entire table heard him.

“Now Thomas, you know women can do what they choose.” Pol reprimanded, giving Tom a stern stare.

“Yes, women can.” He spoke, “but not Y/N.”

“And why not Thomas? Am I not a woman?” You said, letting your fork clank against your plate. He had your full attention now, and not in a good way.

“You are, you’re just…different.” He spoke, his gaze now on you instead of Pol.

You scoffed, and shook your head at him. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You didn’t recognize the Tommy in front of you, your Tommy, the one from 5 years ago, would have been uncaring about your interests, and glad to have someone be so knowledgeable about certain topics. You just stared at him for a moment, waiting on him to say something, anything, that would explain his previous remarks. But nothing ever came, and when you realized nothing ever would, you stood from the table, thanked Pol and Arthur for the dinner, and headed for the door.

Once outside the Shelby house, now all alone, you began walking. You were initially going to go home, but the dwindling liquor supply in your own cabinets encouraged you to find The Garrison. You walked down the streets, that still held a handful of people, mulling your thoughts. Tommy acted like a real jackass, especially given that he was the one who invited you over. By the time your anger had mostly settled, you reached the doors of The Garrison.

9:00 pm

You’d been sat at the bar of The Garrison for around an hour, and were plenty of drinks deep. You now held no anger towards Tommy; hell, you could barely picture his face in your mind. You hadn’t intended on getting drunk tonight, but the lovely barmaid by the name of Grace had been giving you all your drinks ‘on the house’, and who were you to turn down free alcohol? Especially given how you’d left your purse at home because you were ‘just going to the Shelby’s’.

A loud grunt came from behind you, followed by a man sitting down on the stool next to yours. You gave him a quick glance and nod, not recognizing his face.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone, aye?”, he questioned, breathing his hot, putrid breath into your face.

“One, I’m not alone. Two, none of your business, aye?” You said, hoping to be forceful enough that he got the hint and left you alone.

Unfortunately, he did not. The next thing you knew, he had his fat arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his barstool.

“Now listen here, little lady,” he breathed, “You can come to the back alley with me on your own will, or I can make you.” He threatened, brandishing a bowie knife from his waist.

You sat for a moment, considering your options. You knew you definitely were not going into that alley, even if you had to die bloody for it. You quickly came up with a plan in your head, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted.

“Fat chance, ya bastard. Now let me go,” you said loudly, hoping to draw some attention.

The man laughed at you, and moved his hand up to grab your shoulder, encasing your frame in his large arm. There was no denying he had size on you, but you had speed. And speed always won. You quickly ducked under his arm, knocking your barstool over behind you. You grabbed his wrist as you slipped out of his hold, bringing his hand to the middle of his back.

“What do ya say now, you piece of shit,” you laughed in his ear.

Faster than you expected, he ripped his wrist from your hands, and turned to face you. You heard a loud pop, then the feeling of pain registered on your face. The fucker had just backhanded you infront of the entire Garrison. You gave a small chuckle, which spiraled into a full out laugh, leaving the man utterly confused. You turned your eyes up towards him, feigning doe eyes at the man, before you placed both hands on his shoulders. You moved in closer to his body, and before he could realize, you hooked your right leg behind his knee, and shoved his shoulders as hard as you could manage and still stay upright.

The large man tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on your now discarded barstool. While you had the chance, you snatched the knife from his hands and knelt down on top of his large body. You pressed the edge of his blade against his own neck, feeling a sense of pride swell through you. You had just taken down this very large, muscular man in front of an entire pub. But before you could get any witty remarks out to your fallen opponent, you heard one thing.

“Y/N, what have you done?”

Fuck. Tommy had found you, and no less, found you on top of man, with a knife against his throat, in his brothers pub.

“Y/N, get off of him. Now.” Tommy spoke, his voice sounding closer now. You turned your head to look at him, finally taking your eyes off of the assailant for just a moment.

Tommy was standing right behind you, with a look similar to what you could assume the wrath of God would look like. He stood poised, with his hands behind his back, peaky hat on top of his head, hiding his eyes. You turned back to look at the fallen man underneath you, seeing his own look of fear on his face. Then you noticed drops of blood splatting onto the man's face. He wasn’t bleeding, you hadn’t cut him, this much you knew. You tossed the knife to the side, far enough away where neither of you could reach it, and felt for your own face. A warm spot of blood came back on your hand; He had cut the corner of your eye open when he backhanded you. You felt angry at first, then ashamed. This man had cut you, and you kept fighting him like a crazed person. Hot tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, before you climbed off of the man.

Tommy grabbed you, helping you to stand on your feet. You were still trying to hold back the tears in your eyes while he gently held your chin, looking over your wound.

“Love, go to the office. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, softly.

You mustered a nod, and scuffled your way to the back office, to wait for him.

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