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sukunas-wife · 9 months ago

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What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽

~🪽

I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍

(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎

Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.

It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.

“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.

—- —- —- —- —-

The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.

He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.

—- —- —- —- —-

Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”

You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”

You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”

Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.

“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all

He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”

—- —- —- —- —-

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.

”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.

Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”

The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.

When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”

Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”

Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakunawifey @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

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I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult

-🐈‍⬛

Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.

Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.

You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)

He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)

An excerpt:

‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’

However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.

His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’

And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.

Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)

Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.

You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.

So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’

Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’

Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.

You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.

You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.

‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’

Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.

‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’

‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.

‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.

‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.

You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’

‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.

‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #stanley pines imagines #stanford pines imagines #stanford pines imagine #ford pines imagines #ford pines imagine #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader

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being-worthy · 3 months ago

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Venom & Eddie Brock headcanons

I started this a while back and wanted to have it finished before the third movie, Venom: The Last Dance, would come out. Yet, it got sooo long that I decided to split the first headcanon into several parts (not quite sure how many there'll be).

I might consider doing another one after watching the third movie which would be about their life together during and after Venom 3.

I’m doing a little goal over on my Ko-fi to get some help with unexpected health bills! ✨Any help is super appreciated! 💖

Moodboard credits: Picture found on Pinterest. If someone knows who the creator is, please let me know as there was no name.

Here's the 1st headcanon part set during and after Venom 1 & 2:

To say that Eddie was surprised by your reaction when you saw them in their Venom form for the first time, would be the understatement of the century.

That said, they saved you from a mugger, although V had other reasons, too. He was intrigued by your sweet smell (it had something chocolaty to him, his words).

You were a bit afraid to be honest, after all, Venom is huge and broad, very broad and muscly, and don’t forget the shark-similar teeth. 😬

However, your fascination with V was bigger; wondering what his skin would feel like if you touched it. Would it feel more like touching a snake or slimy like a frog? Also, how would it feel to be hugged by him? Does he radiate warmth when hugging?

You mustered all your courage together and asked them if you could touch their face. V squinted his eyes upon hearing your question and wouldn’t quite know what to think of you at first, it was a mix of ‘brave little morsel’ and ‘naïve little morsel’. Eddie was at a loss at hearing your request.

V indulged you and let you touch their face. Eddie just got along with it, not that he’s got much of a choice when V’s in charge, especially when someone else shows interest in him instead of running away screaming. You took the chance to explore his face with your hands thoroughly.

You were fascinated by him. His skin wasn’t slimy or like a snake’s; it was smooth and had a cool feeling on your hands at first, but it radiated warmth to your hands afterwards.

You thanked them for saving you pulling on V’s arm quietly asking them to bend down a bit further. They did as you asked bending as much as possible to your height, once they were within reach, you lightly placed a small peck on V’s nose, or where his nose would be if he had one) and gave them a faint “thank you”, like this 👇

V’s milky eyes turned into two big saucers at the surprising gesture. They were so happy that you didn’t scream and run off like many before have done and even gave them a soft and warm kiss.

Eddie was also amazed by your reaction. He wasn’t sure if you were a bit crazy or the real deal.

V tried to convince Eddie to take you home with them, but Eddie reminded him that they can’t just “take” you or people in general with them. V annoys Eddie for the whole night for that.

They ensured you made it home safely as they insisted on being your bodyguard for the night and escorting you home.

After that night, they’d regularly bump into you claiming they were just in the neighbourhood, and so not making sure nothing bad happened to you, nor were they keeping an eye on you. This was the start of a beautiful and peculiar friendship.

To be continued...

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Do not copy or translate my work plz!

💫 My Ko-fi page

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gabbytvclarke · 20 days ago

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The dog and the postwoman PART TWO: The Sleepover

Part one here! ♥ Part three here!

• Summary: After meeting Arthur TV and filming her first pub golf, y/n heads back to the boys’ flat for a sleepover, where more sweetness with Arthur continues. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!George Clarke, friend!ChrisMD and friend!Arthur Hill) • Slow burn fluff, newfound friends to something more? More of exchanged glances, light touches, etc. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes • Word count: 4,452 words Note: Arthur Hill will be either referred to by his full name or just ‘Hill’, Arthur TV will just be ‘Arthur’!

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

George clears his throat, feeling the rising tension. “Better than people shipping Arthur and Chris again!” He chuckles, turning to Chris, “The amount of edits of you biting Arthur is mental.” Y/n and Arthur laugh. George draws his attention to his phone, resting his head on his fist with his elbow leaning on the taxi door handle. Chris initiates more small talk with the driver.

Arthur looks out the window to try and calm his nerves, sobering up slightly and suddenly feeling a tad anxious after the boys mentioned them potentially being shipped. He wonders to himself whether the boys are teasing him because his crush is so one-sided, or whether they're teasing because y/n is into him too. Could she like him? Is she only nice out of pity because he's a bit of an oddball? He knows the only way to find that out is to speak to y/n directly, and because of that he begins to feel a weight on his shoulders. Y/n also watches the streets pass by through the window on Arthur’s side, every so often she glances to Arthur. She can see that Arthur's deep in thought, tapping his fingers on the car door and knotting his eyebrows together. She remembers seeing moments in videos where he gets into a daze, and doesn’t think too much about it. Just in case though, she breaks the silence in the back of the taxi.

“What film are we watching when we get in?” She asks.

“Hm, not sure. Chris will probably pick or else he’ll get in a strop.” George answers quietly with a smirk, waiting for Chris to retaliate but he’s still too busy talking to the driver.

“Probably something terrifying,” Arthur chimes in, louder on purpose so Chris can definitely hear, “Chris likes to make us watch films full of jump scares to ‘see our reactions’, though I really think it’s because he’s too scared to watch it alone.” he laughs at his own comment, feeling a bit more relaxed again.

“That’s so not true Arthur.” Chris states, his voice breaking halfway through. “God I need a drink when we get home.”

“I think you’ve had enough mate.” George quips.

“Of water, you dickhead.” Chris snaps back, throwing his head back against the headrest.

When they pull up to their flat, Chris pays the driver and wishes him a good evening as the other three make their way into the building. They all kick their shoes off and Arthur removes his dog onesie, which he was using as a coat after only wearing shorts and a T shirt underneath. George also whips off his pickle costume, wearing similar attire to Arthur the whole time too. They throw their costumes on the floor. “Oh hey guys… and girl.” Arthur Hill says, walking through to the entryway, not expect y/n’s presence. Everyone else greets him as Chris enters, throwing his pickle costume to the pile on the floor too, muttering something about binning them later. “You all look like you need big glasses of water” Hill chuckles, looking across each ex-player, his eyes ending on Chris and widening.

“Fuck the film, I’m going to bed,” Chris groans, heading to the kitchen to grab some water first, “I’ll grab you two some blankets and spare pillows. You okay taking one of the sofas too y/n?” Y/n looks to their huge comfy sofas and nods.

“I think I can handle a movie, if anyone's still interested?” George offers to the room. Y/n and the Arthurs accept. Y/n immediately plops on one of the sofas, patting and feeling it with her hands and smiles to herself at how they're as comfortable as they look.

“I’ll grab you guys some water and paracetamol… and some food too.” Hill says as he heads into the kitchen area, Arthur follows him but passes to go to the bathroom. George collapses onto the other sofa and gets Netflix up on their huge TV. Hill passes y/n a tablet and water, setting the other two on the shared coffee table. He sits himself next to y/n. “No, Hill. Come sit by me mate.” George calmly suggests. Hill looks to him confused, shrugs and obliges. Y/n is busy messaging Becky to even pay attention. George then whispers in Hill's ear and they look to y/n, who's still none the wiser, and Hill gives George a subtle thumbs up.

Arthur enters the lounge area holding a pile of fresh folded blankets and pillows balancing on top. ��Chris says ‘good night’,” he grunts a half-arsed impression of a grumbly Chris. He wobbles his way to the sofas, dropping the pillows to the floor and the top two smaller blankets onto George and Hill, and taking the larger blanket to share on the sofa with y/n as he plops down next to her. "They're for us to use later." Arthur explains to y/n. She nods and drapes the blanket over them both.

“I’ve put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven, you all should definitely eat something tonight.” Hill says.

“Thanks Hilly” y/n replies. George scrolls through the horror section on Netflix, waiting for everyone to agree. Y/n is open minded the whole time, whereas Arthur doesn’t want to watch one that he’s seen recently. Hill doesn’t fancy anything too gory and George just wants a film picked ASAP. The boys bicker a little as y/n watches on in amusement. Arthur makes himself comfortable, slouching with his arm resting by y/n. Y/n gets herself into a more relaxed position herself, but couldn’t deny feeling slightly chilly while she sits by the flat’s flimsy windows. She pulls her side of the blanket further up to her chin, sitting with her knees to her chest. “You cold?” Arthur whispers to her, while George and Hill are debating what makes a film 'too gory'.

“A bit, but I’ll be okay,” y/n replies. Arthur doesn’t have anything to chivalrously lend to her, not without being shirtless.

“Oh! Do you want to wear my dog onesie? I promise I didn’t spill anything on it.” He offers, throwing his half of the blanket off himself and standing to his feet, a little too fast and giving himself head rush. Y/n chuckles at his eagerness.

“Sure, thank you,” she answers, but by this time Arthur is already bringing the onesie over. She stands and puts it on over her postwoman costume. It was already big on Arthur, so it hangs even baggier on her, with her feet still tucked in the cuffed foot holes. She sits back down and pulls the blanket back over herself. “Much better,” she sighs contently.

“Don’t forget the hood!” Arthur grins, pulling the hood up from between her shoulders and over her head, giving her a couple of light pats. “There. Good girl.” He whispers as he leans in closer to her, a nod to her comment back in the last pub. Y/n scrunches her face up as she laughs, Arthur’s hand still on her head. He gently slides his hand down to her cheek, leaving it there for a second before setting it back on his lap. Y/n feels her face start to burn, thankful Arthur moved his hand away in time before he could feel it too, but also wishing he was cupping her cheek still. Finally, they all decide on a movie. Hill excuses himself to grab their dinner before it plays, then re-enters a few minutes later carrying two plates of pizza, which he had kindly cut into slices. George immediately grabs a slice. “Thanks mate,” he mumbles with his mouth full. As Hill gets himself comfy on his sofa again, George presses play on the movie. The four sit in silence while they watch and eat, ironically Hill eating more pizza than the others.

A particularly intense moment begins building in the movie, and y/n's body stiffens up. Arthur looks to her and can see her wide eyed and taking shallower breaths. "Ahh!" He suddenly screamed as he grabs her, the hand that was once resting behind her now grabbing her shoulder and his other hand reaching over and grasping her arm, making her jump out of her skin. She flinches so hard that the hood of the onesie flies back off. "Fucking hell mate!" George also calls out, pausing the film specifically to turn and shout at Arthur. Hill is sat in silence with his hand to his chest, panting slightly.

"Sorry guys, I won't do it again." Arthur chuckles, still holding y/n but he loosens his grip. The film continues. "Sorry," his whispers again but just to y/n, pulling her slightly closer to direct his apology gently into her ear.

"It's okay," she giggles back quietly, nestling herself more comfortably against Arthur. He smiles to himself as his attention turns back to the TV. After a while, y/n pulls the blanket up to her nose.

"Is it my breath?" Arthur jokes quietly.

"No no, my nose is cold," she muffles, which is true.

"Lemme see." Arthur replies, pulling the blanket off her face and pressing his nose against hers. "Oh yeah.' he whispers sweetly, his face lingering there for a moment as his warm breath fans her face. She pauses, even her pulse. He tilts his face to the side slightly and slowly leans in further, his lips not even an inch away from hers, before George chokes on his water. The sudden noise causing the pair to jump. They had almost forgotten that there are others present.

George sputters as Hill smacks him on the back. "Sorry. Wrong hole," he sheepishly croaks.

"Now we have to rewind because you forgot how to drink, a basic human task!" Hill whines.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry," George murmurs, reaching for the remote and getting the film to where it was before it was interrupted. Y/n and Arthur share a look. Both sporting a shy smile, both wondering if the other could hear the other's heart pounding.

A jump scare happens and the whole room jumps, y/n is startled so much so that she grips Arthur's thigh in a panic. His eyes go wide. Her hand feels perfect on him, half over his shorts' leg and the other half on his bare skin - which feels like it's burning under her touch. His tongue swipes over his lower lip nervously. She realises what she's doing and slowly releases her grip, adjusting the blanket as an excuse to pull her hand away. She notes to herself how firm and hairy Arthur's thigh is, so rugged compared to his soft demeanour. "Scared?" He whispers teasingly in her ear.

"No..." She retorts, almost silently. He squeezes her closer to him sweetly and chuckles.

"Cute." Did he just say... Did she hear that right? She can't help the smile creep on her lips either way.

After the movie finishes, the group take a few moments to discuss what they think of the ending. Y/n is distracted by her phone pinging, so she leans over to check it, laying on her side but still curled up under the blanket. It’s a text from Chip, hardly making any sense.

‘I’m home and a live heehe was nice meetin you proper today. u should ask author out you wld be so leng leng together xxxx’

Y/n thanks him for the fun day and a good night message, returning her full attention back to the group conversation but staying laid on her side. “Y/n looks like a little cinnamon bun over there, you tired from the pub golfing?” Hill asks. Arthur turns his gaze back to her, his heart melting a little at how cozy she looks.

“A little tired, yeah,” y/n answers before yawning. The three golfers tell Hill about their day, each with their own little anecdotes. Arthur does a lot of the talking, keeping his voice lower for Chris’s sake. It sounds like liquid gold. Listening to the boys’ chatter, y/n feels her eyes getting heavy as her blinks get slower. And slower. And slower.

--------

Her eyes gradually open, thankfully only a tinge of a headache surrounding her, all thanks to Hill’s insistence of drinking water from the previous night. The morning rays cascade on her through the windows of the boys’ living room. She gently sits up and looks over her shoulder, confused to see a pillow behind her that she definitely hadn’t placed the night before. When she faces forward again, she can see Arthur laying on his back on the other couch, staring intensely at his phone. When she squints her eyes, she can just make out a chess game on his screen. “Morning,” she yawns, startling him out of his match.

“Oh! Morning y/n,” Arthur replied, casually locking his phone and rolling over to face her. Abandoning a game that just now, he was so focused on. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I did,” she replies and a groggy smile, “although I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Me too, I’ll see if the guys have any spare toothbrushes for us.” Arthur replies, before stretching and hopping to his feet. He shuffles out of sight before y/n leans over and grabs her phone. It’s almost dead, so she grabs the portable charger from her postbag and sits back on the sofa. Upon plugging it in, she notices a text from George from the early hours of the morning.

“Cuties 🥹”

With a photo attached. She clicks the message for a better look and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. The photo is of her laying asleep curled up on the sofa, phone in hand. However, Arthur was big-spooning her, in almost the fact same curled up position. She zooms in on the photo to see his arm is sandwiched between and his face is all squishy from his position - he was fast asleep too. She hearts the photo and saves it to her phone, feeling giddy. However, soon after she stops to think. ‘If he was lying with me here, why was he on the other sofa when I woke up?’ She starts to worry herself, scared she farted or snored or something and gave him the ick.

“Well that’s not the face of a morning person.” George stated, standing in the living room in just sweatpants and a baggy T shirt. His croaky voice startles y/n slightly before she chuckles.

“Just in deep thought,” she replies.

“About what, the photo?” George asks. Y/n shushes him and waves her hand at him aggressively. George rolls his eyes.

“Relax y/n, I walked past Chris’s room just now and they’re both gassing about Lord of the Rings stuff.” Which makes y/n grin. George takes a seat next to her on the sofa. “The photo’s pretty simple, he fell asleep next to you.”

“Yeah,” y/n nodded, “but what happened?”

“Not sure entirely, I was chatting to Hill and realised Television was suspiciously quiet, when we looked over we saw you two spooning.” George explains, “we figured we’d leave you both to your sleepy time and both headed to bed ourselves. We left spare toothbrushes out for you by the way.”

Y/n stands up and yawns. “Thanks Clarkey” she sends him a half smile before making her way to the bathroom.

“Wait,” he starts, “Looks like Arthur slept on this couch.” he gestures to the pillows and disarrayed blankets on the other sofa.

“Yeah I think he did, did you see him get up at all before you went to bed?” Y/n asks quietly, fully aware she’s closer to Chris’s room now.

“I didn’t, like I said, you were cozied up when we last saw you.” he replies. Y/n pauses to think, eyes serious. “If you’re worried, just ask him mate,” George suggests. Y/n nods and heads to Chris’s room. George shakes his head with a smirk and whispers “Young love” to himself.

When y/n gets to Chris’s doorway, she can tell the boys are in deep conversation. As soon as Chris locks eyes with her, he clears his throat.

“Oh, good morning y/n. You sleep well?” he asks, his voice higher than usual.

“I did thanks, sorry to interrupt the hobbit talk,” she starts, making the boys chuckle. Arthur struggles not to stare, but he can’t believe how good she looks first thing in the morning, although it doesn’t surprise him. “Arthur, there are toothbrushes awaiting us.”

They head to the bathroom and brush their teeth in a comfortable silence. When they're both finished and put their toothbrushes back in the spare glass, the brush heads happen to be pressed together. "Look," Arthur points, giggling, "our brushes are smooching!" Making y/n laugh. Arthur beams proudly, admiring how unreserved her smile is. Just before they head out, y/n psyches herself up and reaches for the hem of Arthur's shirt.

“Hey, before we go back out there, I have to ask you something.” His hand is already on the door handle, but he stops himself and turns to face her, feeling his chest tighten.

“Sure, what’s up?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I hate to be awkward, but George sent me a photo from last night.” She begins, unlocking her phone to pull the photo up.

“Is it the one of us asleep on the couch? George sent me the same one.” Arthur chuckles shyly, sliding his hands in his shorts pockets and finding it hard to look in y/n’s direction. His face quickly drops and a look of anxiety washes over him, thinking he's in trouble. “I am so, so sorry for that. I must’ve fallen asleep before I could even realise-”

“Oh that’s okay Arthur, really. I thought it was quite cute.” Y/n assures him. Colour starts to flood back to his face as he finally looks at her, a small smile tugs one corner of his mouth with relief.

“I was more curious to know what happened after you first fell asleep, I noticed you switched sofas during the night,” she explains, searching his face for an answer before he even speaks.

“I see,” Arthur nods slowly, and he begins to explain:

“I’m not sure when I fell asleep but when I woke up, I was still laying behind you, like in the photo. You were fast asleep and I kind of panicked. I didn’t want you to wake up and see I was laying up against you without any consent and think I was a weirdo or something. So I figured I should move to the other couch and hoped you’d not know about the accidental spooning. I very carefully got up from the couch. You looked comfy, but I could only imagine the neck ache you’d wake up with. So I grabbed a pillow from the floor and very carefully lifted your head and slipped it under. You looked so much comfier then. Then I got on my couch and I guess I fell asleep straight away, as I can't remember much else.”

Y/n sighs, she smiles and shakes her head. “You’re so sweet, you really are.” They look at each other for what feels like minutes. Arthur’s glances switch between her eyes and her lips. She steps towards him, her gaze never leaving his sweet smile. A knock on the bathroom door brings them both back down to earth. “Are you guys done? Sorry but I need a shit.” Chris’s voice is heard in the other side. The pair giggle before Arthur rolls his eyes and opens the door. He stands to the side to let y/n leave first but Chris barges in mumbling an apology. When the pair walk back out to the open living area, George is preparing breakfast. "Oh, there you two are," he smiles, "I'm just about to make some grub, would either of you like any?" Y/n politely shakes her head.

"I'm okay for now thank you, I should really head home and get out of this uniform before I stink the country up anymore!" She replies.

"I should go and shower too, do you want to share an Uber? I'll pay." Arthur offers.

"We can go halves." She grins back, then unzips the dog onesie places it on the sofa. As she does so, the smell of Arthur's aftershave mixed with a hint of beer breezes past her, a harsh reminder of just how much she fancies the man.

They head to where their shoes were discarded, preparing to leave. "Just so you know, you smell lovely." He whispers, his eyes then suddenly widening. "I mean- that sounded creepy- I just mean that you don't smell bad! You- you won't stink up the country!" He then blabbers, bringing his palm to his forehead with a disappointed grin.

"Thank you Arthur," she replies with a genuine tone and smile, letting him know that he's not a creep.

"Speaking of smell," Arthur starts, turning to face towards the bathroom, "Bye Chris, enjoy your shit!" A muffled 'fuck off' is heard retaliating from across the flat.

"Bye guys!" y/n adds on between laughs, she faces George "Please say bye to Hilly for me when he wakes up." George waves his spatula playfully, like a suburban wife waving out her husband.

"Good bye, loooove you!" He calls out in a soft, higher pitched voice.

The Uber doesn't take long at all to arrive outside the boys' building. Arthur rushes ahead of y/n, holding the door open for her. She bows her head as if to thank him and climbs in, Arthur following behind her. When y/n gives the driver her address, Arthur is shocked to realise that she only lives a 20 minute walk away from his place. With nothing but the hum of the car engine for a short while, Arthur breaks the silence. "You know, it's refreshing to meet someone who is just as nice in person as they seem in their videos."

Y/n is surprised by the sudden compliment. "Same goes to you," she replies, "and you really do go wild after only a couple of drinks." She then chuckles.

"You should give me your number, I'm sure Isaac, Italianbach, would love to have you as a guest on our Bach and Arthur podcast. We can set something up." Arthur cleverly tests the waters, still unsure if she likes him or is just super nice.

"Great idea!" Y/n chirps, holding her hand out for his phone. He passes it over and watches her type with a smirk. When she hands it back to him, he grins to himself we notices that she saved her name as:

'Y/n 🐶✉️'

"Very nice." He states, amused. Sending her a text immediately that makes her giggle:

'Woof woof 😉'

They talk amongst themselves about upcoming videos, y/n is excited to hear that Arthur plans on playing another Dress to Impress with the boys. Arthur notices that the driver is heading to his place first. "Do you want a coffee at mine, we can walk to yours after as it's basically just around the corner." He offers with a wholesome smile.

"I would love to, but I desperately want to have a shower before I see some of my friends this afternoon." She replies, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "Otherwise, coffee would be nice." Unfortunately for both of them, Arthur doesn't quite realise at the time that y/n is suggesting they go for coffee sometime, like a date.

Arthur only nods though, "That's fair enough. Well I'll text you about the podcast soon at least." He smiles, although if she were someone who knew him better, she'd notice the slight pensiveness behind his eyes. He wonders to himself whether she's actually busy or just rejecting him kindly. Though later that day when he follows her on Instagram, he'll see from her story that she was telling the truth.

As the Uber turns to Arthur's street and starts pulling over, Arthur gives y/n a tap on her leg. "Don't worry about paying me half by the way, it's my treat." He tells her, still wanting to be chivalrous as ever despite his self doubt.

"You don't have to, but thank you" y/n replies, feeling warmer than she did five seconds ago.

"I'm glad Chris invited you to pub golf, it was fantastic meeting you" Arthur states, words oozing in y/n's ears like warm honey, as he reaches out to shake her hand.

"You too Arthur, have a lovely day" She replies sweetly, taking his hand to shake it before boldly pulling him towards her and pecking his cheek, slightly catching the outer corner of his lips too. Arthur rushes to unbuckle his seatbelt and step out the car before y/n can notice his face turning scarlet. As the Uber pulls away, y/n turns to watch Arthur walk toward his building, noticing his hand is pressed to his cheek with a dopey smile on his face.

--------

Over the next few weeks, y/n and Arthur message each other animal facts and videos about dinosaurs and general science back and forth. They also plan her appearance on the podcast. One day, Arthur sends her a random Instagram post of a postman cuddling a puppy and adding 'it's us 🥹' to the message, making y/n go fuzzy inside.

When Chris uploads the pub golf video almost a whole month after filming it that fateful day. Y/n reads the comments with rosy cheeks, completely unaware that 'basically just around the corner', Arthur is sat on his computer chair doing the same.

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Commenter 5: 23:37 chip says 'bros in love' DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT ↳ Commenter 6: Right? That had to be about y/n!

Commenter 7: there's definitely some tension between y/n and arthur 😏😏 did you SEE that arm wrestle

Commenter 8: Y/N FREDERICK IS HAPPENING. feel free to come back to my comment in like 4 years time when they announce their wedding in a museum :)

--------

With both of them being too awkward to blatantly ask the other out or even admit their feelings, they continue their mix of friendship and flirtationship while their YouTube circle watches on in frustration. That's when Arthur Hill then decides to invite y/n to join him, Arthur TV, and George on a platform roulette video.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART THREE]

A/n: Here is part two! Thanks so much to everyone for their sweet reception of part one. I feel like this one wasn't as good, but please let me know still if you'd like a part 3! ♥ Tag: @ooostarwarsfandom501st - Gabby xo

#arthurtv #arthurtv fluff #arthurtv x reader #Arthur tv #Arthur tv fluff #Arthur tv x reader #Arthur frederick #Arthur Frederick x reader #Arthur Frederick fluff #George clarke #chrismd #Arthur hill #pub golf

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greenfiend · 10 months ago

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The Significance of Lover’s Lake and Byler (Theory) Part 2

Sequel to this post

(Warning: mentions of sex and drugs)

Okay so first of all, if you haven’t seen my previous post on my theory involving Lovers Lake and Byler, please read it first. I go over my theory and predictions for Byler and the heart shaped lake. This is a secondary post to it, outlining some VERY interesting details involving the owner of the lakeside house, the lakeside house itself, and all the romantic and sexual elements present. I’m saving the best for last here.

Let’s start with the owner of the lakeside house.

Reefer Rick

So I recently made a silly post arguing that the most queer coded character in Stranger Things is not Mike nor Will (nor Robin, Henry, Eddie etc), and I stand by this statement. The most queer coded character is: Reefer Rick. Now, I know we never see the guy, but literally all the information we have on him is either queer coding or drug references.

Synonyms of his name are literally f*g Dick, with a shared last name with the famous tea company founder who so happens to have been a homosexual: Lipton.

We know he doesn’t have a family, thus he’s a single man who occasionally has his buddy/fellow dealer Eddie stay over. Hm, not very heterosexual of him.

Then we have his movie list.

Now, as many of us know, the movie “Fast Times” is used within Stranger Things as a way to gage if someone is attracted to women or not. We have Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Vickie all confirmed to have enjoyed this movie… specifically for that shot at 53 minutes and 5 seconds. Sure, Reefer Rick rented the film, but why is it the only movie he rented that was returned on time? For context, he’s the only character who had films listed as “late” returns. So, he obviously enjoyed Cheech & Chong a lot more. Two guys doing drugs is more interesting to him than a sexy lady. Okay, noted.

Now, how is he perceived by the people of Hawkins?

Oooof. Okay. He’s not well liked it seems. He apparently is causing some fear and anger amongst the Hawkins residents. Kind of similar of a reaction these people would have towards an openly gay man during the 1980s.

Also I have to include @/conflictofthemind ‘s excellent point that injectable drug use and unprotected sex (specifically between two men) were both commonly associated with HIV/AIDS… a major epidemic during the 80s and a major subtextual theme within the show.

Now, where’s this guy live while outside of jail?

I don’t blame the guy for “hiding” when the town is not too fond of him. Of course he is a drug dealer so there’s that as well. But interesting they used the word “hide”, which has been associated with queerness within the show already (plus this line was said by Robin (featured in the middle of the shot!!!) who is queer herself).

(Both of these screenshots are from 1x02 interestingly enough.)

Wouldn’t it make sense for these two “hiders” to hide out in “a perfect place to hide” together? Seeking refuge in a fellow gay man’s secluded house?

I will say it’s also worth noting that he does not have any women featured on the walls within his house. Also, he has a phallic shaped bong (we’ll get back to that soon).

Phew okay so that’s Reefer Rick. Are you still with me? Hopefully I didn’t bore any of you with this. I promise you this all leads back to Byler.

So, moving on to his house.

So as @/therainscene kindly pointed out, this poster with the smiley face can be related to rave culture and ecstasy in the 1980s. So a drug reference, in a drug dealer’s house… shocker I know. But I gotta say, ecstasy is also a term often related to sex. I also have to add this little tidbit from one of our favourite directors of Stranger Things, Shawn Levy. Keep in mind, he knows what’ll happen in the next season… and he’s directing episodes after 3 and 4…

Interesting word choice, no?

So, back to the symbolism within (and near) the house.

Let’s talk about the phallic symbolism that appears in pairs in these shots. It’s a choice, isn’t it? With two males in each shot. We know the Duffers love details and foreshadowing… I doubt it’s a coincidence. Also, anyone else notice that phone in the background? Just had to mention it, since our boys are frequently associated with phones and calls.

Then, of course, I gotta bring back this shot.

The bed. Blue meets yellow. You know it! We all heard it a thousand times by now. Let’s look at what else is in the shot. A closed closet. Another reference to our boys. To the right, you’ll see a toilet paper roll. Now, if you have a brother, you might see the same thing in his room. Sure it can be used as a tissue for your nose but let’s just say there’s usually another use for it. I’ll call it “self love”. So, basically, another sexual reference.

To sum up this house: lake/water, drugs, and ecstasy/smiley face. Now, let’s go back to a scene featuring our boys with all these elements in the background.

Makes you wonder doesn’t it?

I must also point out the “Paris” poster in the background. City of love, anyone? Plus the fireworks. They’re really trying to tell us something here.

Also, @/foodiewithdahoodie pointed out how Paris specifically was one of the first places to decriminalize sodomy.

You know, I also wouldn’t rule out every aspect of Murray’s prediction here.

Shout out to the Hylers out there!

Perhaps after a lot of stressful days of fighting interdimentional demons, these boys want to wind down and de-stress in their hiding spot. I can see Reefer Rick as a fellow Nintendo player, leaving his console behind, as well as his weed, for our boys to use. I also wouldn't be surprised if Eddie left a few of his beers behind. I mean… Murray has a pretty good track record for predictions. This would also really double down on the message that Mike and Will “aren’t kids anymore.”

Also, wouldn’t it be fun to look back at Murray’s predictions and realize that they’ve all come to be?

Okay, now let’s finally get to the romance elements!

First thing I want to start with is this shot:

So… they had to show us a mailbox, didn’t they? With that name “Lipton” which as I mentioned in my previous post… is associated with Thomas Lipton who had a lover named William Love.

1 point for #lettergate

And…

“Hope Our Love Lives/Lasts And Never Dies”

WWII solders used the acronym H.O.L.L.A.N.D. to convey a love message in a letter. The whole love letters association with Mike and Will never end, do they?

2 points for #lettergate!

As for the “2121”, I think it’s possible that it’s referencing multiple things… number references are tricky like that in my opinion. But I will say that @/thestrangestthing89 brought up the fact that “2121” could be a reference to “Twin Flames” which is yet another reference to romance.

Continuing on with the romance…

Let’s return back to the scene where Reefer Rick is first mentioned. After Max mentioned him, we are cut to Steve talking about a movie.

A movie filled with action and romance, you say?

So… Doctor Zhivago.

Basically a tale of two people in love during a difficult time (Russian Revolution) being separated, with other people, then finally reunited. Not completely unlike our boys. Notice how the “adult” sign is noticeable in the background. Not kids anymore.

He mentions action, which I’m sure there will be some of as well at the famous lake.

Okay enough with the silly details, let’s stop and look at the bigger picture.

Our beloved lake. Look how gorgeous it truly is. Plus the fact that it’s a literal heart? You can’t get more “on the nose” than that.

Now, who else is known as a heart? (Tough question I know…)

This boy is, without a doubt, narratively tied to the lake. He is “the heart”… he is THE LAKE (symbolically).

Thank you to @/everaster for bringing attention to the fact that after Mike was pushed to deliver that monologue to El by Will, Max “died”, then the gates opened WIDE. One of those gates, as we know, is located within Lover’s Lake… known was “watergate” (term coined by Dustin).

So, as of now in this story… Lover’s Lake is literally broken in two. A broken heart in need of mending.

Who better to accomplish that task than the boy who has known him for a decade and loves him completely and selflessly?

💌📬❤️‍🩹

Hope you enjoyed these posts as much as I enjoyed making them! It’s honestly so much fun looking for evidence and finding such interesting stuff. Some of it may be reaching, and that’s okay because it’s all in good fun! That’s what fandoms are all about.

The level of attention to detail in this show never ceases to amaze me! There’s so much depth and clues to look for and play around with. I hope to have sparked some inspiration and creativity for some people! 💛💙💚

As always, would love to know your thoughts!

#Byler #loverslakegate #lovers lake #stranger things #stranger things 5 #Mike wheeler #Will Byers #byler theory #stranger things theory

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anticanonsposts · 1 year ago

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Sex-mishaps w/ König

let’s be real mistakes happen during sex (a lot) and most writing doesn't include it (mine included) , so here are some that happen w/ König

nsfw-mdni

cw: blood, injury, crying, anger?, reference to female anatomy

you both have your fair share of doing slightly embarrassing things during sex, most of them happened during your first few times but obvi these things don’t have an expiration date

some of yours...

once after the two of you were apart for two weeks and you finally had sex again, you started crying a little

nothing hysterical, you were just very overwhelmed with the pleasure and intimacy that you had been missing

since it was really just your eyes welling up, he didn’t notice until you had orgasmed and once he did he was very concerned, thinking he had hurt you or rushed things

but you assured him you were fine, and then pounced on him to finish him off, getting rid of any worry he had

another time, the first time he ever called you schatz was during sex, and not knowing what it meant you truly thought it was the name of someone else

you had been riding him, he had a death grip on your butt/hips murmuring praises while his eyes were glued to your body

then he says it, ‘just like that schatz’ which causes you to scrunch your face up in confusion and then anger ‘What the fuck did you just say?!’ he sits up when you say this trying to bring you closer to him ‘say what, I’m sorry, y/n what?’ and you not so gently push him to lay back down with your palms against his chest

you start to get off of him but he keeps his grip on you and pulls you back down ‘what is schatz?’

there it is, that fucking name again, who did he think he is, ‘who is that?’ you ask back and his eyes wander for a second before gulping, finally understanding

'schatz means treasure liebling '

‘oh fuck me’ you say completely embarrassed, covering your face with your hands ‘I’m so fucking sorry, did I hurt you’ you say assessing any damage (there’s none) you made to his chest when you pushed him

he just chuckles and forgives you

(it was honestly kind of hot, how you got mad) (whenever you are assertive he gets really turned on hehehe)

another one of your first few times you go over to his place, you two start going at it and you don’t think and before you know it you are squirting on his bed

you feel so bad because you made a huge wet patch and you keep covering your face and he is just rumbling with laughter partly because of your polite reaction but also because he was just proud that he made you squirt!!

now onto him...

one time he came way to fast and felt so bad

you had been laying down under him, grinding yourself on his leg that he had placed in between yours

and you just looked so pretty, and your noises were so sweet and hot

then you really got him by pulling your shirt up, exposing your tits to him

while you continued grinding on his leg, he took them in his hands/mouth and started grinding back onto your hip

everything just kept feeling better and better until before he knew it he felt his climax approaching

groaning into your neck, you started to feel a slight wet spot form against his pants

breathlessly you looked up at him ‘did you?....’

‘scheisse!’ he replied as he pulled away from you sitting up on his knees, trying to cover his face with a hand, completely fucking embarrassed, he wasn’t even inside of you, you didn’t even touch him :(

in this moment he thought for sure you wouldn’t want to do anything with him ever again, that he was pathetic, that he was not able to perform

you just looked at him with a hazy look telling him not to worry and that you didn’t mind in the slightest

if anything, you told him that it was pretty hot that he got off to just making out/dry humping with you

similar to another fic I wrote ('sex drought' check it out its great) one time you were on top of him and he was fucking up into you...

he got a little over zealous while cumming and unexpectedly gave a really hard thrust which sent you flying forward with the force of his core/thighs

before you could processes what was happening your head was already slamming into his nose

it took him longer to realize what happened than you, he started bleeding everywhere and you were so worried that you broke your bf’s nose :(

you two end up going to the hospital and opt to just explain what happened to the doctor so that they didn’t think it was any sort of domestic violence

könig was blushing the whole time and the nurse/doctor just raised their eyebrows and said wow

long story short, it wasn’t broken, just a lot of blood

this also resulted in you cradling his head every night giving him so many kisses because you felt so bad (he liked the baby treatment so he wasn’t gonna complain)

overall...awkward/embarrassing stuff happens but you two just laugh it off

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #konig mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod smut #cod mw2 #konig blurb #call of duty smut #konig imagine

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bengiyo · 1 month ago

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BL 2024 Review

It’s been another year of BL. I wrote a review of 2023 and 2022, and I find myself struggling to write about this year. I feel like I had some incredible projects that I connected with this year, but I also found myself far more bored and frustrated with certain things than I was expecting. The most disheartening thing this year for me was the drop off in the number of quality Korean productions, and the end of my patience with Thai BL squandering viewer time and attention. Let’s get into some of the big ideas.

Japan is Still Here

Last year I commented that a third of all Japanese BL I had ever watched came out in 2023. We got even more this year, and we had longer runtimes! This is good for the kind of viewer I am. I find that I enjoy Japanese shows more often than any other BL-producing country, and they held down the bulk of my watching for the year.

This year I was blessed with two shows tackling a similar premise (actors falling for each other as they film a BL) and they were both good! I loved I Became The Main Role of a BL Drama so much, and we’re getting a sequel in 2025! I wasn’t sure if I would enjoy a moodier take on this premise when At 25:00 in Akasaka showed up, but I ended up enjoying that, too!

I properly watched Ossan’s Love and The Novelist at the start of this year, and I’m so glad I did, because goddamn did I enjoy Ossan’s Love Returns.

I also remain thankful for Tadaima Okaeri and Twilight Out of Focus for giving us worthwhile BL anime.

I'm thankful for Perfect Propose for giving me a man in his mid-20s leaving his horrible job after getting fed and jerked off by an old friend.

I'm thankful for Takara no Vidro for unpacking obsession in a relationship and solving it with healthy communication.

Finally, I'm thankful for Love is Like a Poison for blending a legal drama with a BL so effortlessly, and making it such a fun ride. I love that Shiba Ryoma can't fight for shit and was so down bad for his man.

The Cross-Cultural Adaptations Brought Out Great Discussion

I was glad we got Cherry Magic Thailand and My Love Mix Up Thailand this year in the order in which we got them. It was useful because they both came from GMMTV, and I had opposite reactions to both. I loved what they did with Cherry Magic, and stand by what I said on the podcast that I think it’s the best version of Cherry Magic (even if the anime is my favorite). This was useful, because I was really put off by the attempt at My Love Mix Up, and think they got a lot wrong. I’m glad the good show came first so I didn’t feel like I was being a Japanese version stan.

Adapting from danmei, I really wanted to like My Stand In, but bounced off the show not taking the horror of Joe’s situation seriously. Moreover, I think the commerce of the BL pair required them to soften and redeem Up’s character in a way that felt disingenuous for me. I wanted that man to be unhinged and far more toxic than they portrayed him. If this is the trend, I’d rather Thai teams invested in BL pair commerce avoid toxic danmei in the future.

In Taiwan, I was so impressed with Unknown. Despite the missteps on the sexual turn, that was one of the most engaging dramas we had within the genre this year. I was impressed at how seriously they took their family dynamics. That being said, Meet Me at the Blossom didn’t land for me. I would very much like to see a wuxia BL that hits for me without the dubious and non-consensual bits.

Over in Japan, I don’t think I’m enjoying Our Youth that much, and I wonder about whether certain aspects of the source material didn’t translate properly with some of the changes I’ve seen mentioned by viewers. It’s been a difficult experience, because I loved the scene of Minase fleeing Hirukawa’s room, but the show has really lost its emotional core for me.

However, I actually really enjoyed the Japanese version of Love in the Air, and think MeMindY timed this well with The Boy Next World starting right as the last episode of Love in the Air Japan finishes. It was clear to me that the Thai team was involved in the adaptation, and that the makers of the Japanese version loved LITA. I think both versions bring out something noteworthy in the characters, and I hope that the show is successful so we get more work from MeMindY as a result of the connections made here, because it’s clear that the money situation in Thailand might not be so hot right now.

Thai and Korean Money Must Be Drying Up

We’ve been wondering when the BL peak would hit and the decline would begin, and I think we’re starting to see some of those changes. I worry about how little we got from Korea this year, despite three incredible showings from Love for Love’s Sake, Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo, and Love in the Big City. Beyond those three, I don’t really feel like anyone missed out that much on the other offerings (maybe Time of Fever, but I have qualms with that show).

Beyond that, I remain worried about how much talent has consolidated at GMMTV. It’s a worrisome sign that they continue to gobble up all of the talent. Regardless of personal tastes for a particular brand of BGP (business gay performance), it’s pretty bad for all of us when one corporation is the only one making money on boys kissing each other (@respectthepetty).

Despite how much Thai BL I dropped, I did genuinely enjoy the relationship and friendship dynamics of Cooking Crush, Knock Knock Boys, Love Sea, and The Trainee.

The Gay Things I Loved

Enough musing. Let’s just talk about other things that I loved. This is the section where I beg you to watch the gay things that matter to me, and not just the boys whose IG reels get reposted here.

I absolutely loved the entire experience of the Love in the Big City book club. When @lurkingshan pitched the idea, I had no idea how many people would earnestly participate, that Anton Hur would share his time with us, or that the show would actually be so good. LITBC was so good that conservative Koreans protested its airing. I loved everything we did this year around that book and show, and wanna say thanks again to everyone who engaged with us.

I also adored Marahuyo Project. I love that ANIMA Studios didn’t end after Like in the Movies. JP Habac came back with a banger. That show said it was LGBTQIA+ and it meant it with its whole heart. I really loved this show as a true examination of the evolving landscape of youth queerness in the modern era more than anything else I watched this year. Go watch it.

I did not expect a show about a reformed misogynist to be my favorite show of the year, but here I am still begging all of you to watch Don’t Care For An Old Man’s Underwear! (@isaksbestpillow)This show made me cry every single week because of how good every moment hit. I have rarely experienced such an immense feeling of compassion as I received from this show.

In 2022, we watched She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat, and we wondered if NHK would come back and finish what they started, and goddamn did they deliver. I think about Nomoto and Kasuga about as much as I think about Shiro and Kenji (What Did You Eat Yesterday?) now, and if Japan doesn’t figure out a way for both of those couples to meet, I will be forever disappointed. Go watch it. (@furritsubs)

Finally, I will be forever thinking about the confession through the wall in Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo, how they intercut the youth and adult sex, and the way Dohoe apologized to Hyeonho. Hwang Da Seul finally got all of the pieces right here. She loves to see a couple get back together after a big separation, and she succeeded here. This show earned its youth romance, and earned its reunion. She understands how important it is for gay people to stop trapping each other. We threw that cross in the trash, and cried because of Yahoo answers. We all won.

My Tastes are Changing

Last year I engaged with about 99 productions. This year it’s under 75 with 26 that I didn’t finish. I hesitate to say that the genre is getting worse, when I feel like things are where they’ve been for a long time. However, it’s clear that I’m changing and am less interested in seeing what I deem to be weak attempts at familiar storytelling tropes.

I think what I’ve noticed the most about my tastes changing is that it’s making me write less. The fandom has contracted dramatically on Tumblr, and I find myself growing distant from the predominant reactions. With there being less people to vibe with, I’ve been reacting less in real time. Despite that, I hope to continue posting round ups with my BL blurbs and @the-conversation-pod.

All in all, 2024 is a difficult year for me. I think I enjoyed BL less overall, but the things I did enjoy I enjoyed more than previous years. It’s a difficult space for me to navigate, because I think this is actually what I wanted. I will continue to appreciate that the BL genre enables the funding for the big gay projects that I love. So, even if I think GMMTV going literally all-in on BL is going to lead to a ton of garbage, I still remain hopeful that the homos with something interesting to say can make the projects they want.

#ben watches #ben writes #multi bl #bl superlatives 2024

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y0ur-lovrr · 11 days ago

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-Flirting fail??

A/n; decided to write for arisu since he’s so underrated 😓, I did get a little bit of inspo from someone else’s fanfic I read a while back, if I can remember it I’ll tag the person! I will also admit that the ending is a big rushed cause I was falling asleep lol

Pairing; Arisu Ryohei x reader!

—“I could make a bomb out of that, you know.”

You mutter casually with a shrug as you sit with Arisu in an abandoned apartment, watching from the corner of your eye as Arisu stops sipping from his soda can, glancing over at you, seeing how you look slightly proud of your information.

He just stays silent for a second, not sure what to say, glancing down at his soda can before back at you.

“That’s very cool.” He mumbles with an awkward chuckle, not sure what to say-he’s never sat so close to you before, or he so close to you before. So you suddenly bringing that up makes him a bit more nervous.

“I can teach you, you know. I just need a few wires and batteries,” You tell him as you lean closer to him, your breath slightly brushing against the side of his face as you lift your hand to trace the side of his still half full soda can, your other arm reaching behind him to rest on the raggedy table behind him.

“You just have to pop the top off and then—“ snap! The table suddenly snaps and makes a small crash as one of the legs crack underneath it, the sudden loss of stability making you lose the bit of stability you had-crashing right onto Arisu’s shoulder.

You being close was enough-but now that happened, Arisu couldn’t help how red his face was, from trying to not laugh, and also how much closer you were now.

“Uhm…” you huff out as you shift away, fiddling with your thumbs in your lap as you try to gain back your usual ego-of course it had to go that way with your luck.

“Are you okay?” Arisu mumbles with a small chuckle, reaching a hand out to rub your shoulder, trying to not snicker at your flustered reaction. Seeing you like that since you usually weren’t was quite humorous.

“Now that’s just sad…the first time I’ve seen you try to flirt with someone and you end up breaking the table. You’re zero to one—“

A voice suddenly calls out, and you immediately recognize it as the voice as chishiya, his voice calm and teasing, and you could already imagine the Cheshire grin on his face.

“You didn’t see that.” You snap as you turn towards him, trying to ignore Arisu’s face in your peripheral vision, his face growing even more red as he realizes you were flirting with him-or tried to…before you accidentally broke the table.

“I did though. Such a shame Kuina isn’t awake, she would’ve loved to see that.”

He grins, leaning against the door frame, watching you and Arisu with an amused gaze. From right here Arisu can see the similarities between you two, and he knew he was about to witness and sibling squabble, the idea only making him smile to himself more.

“Shut up, you little runt—“ you don’t even finish as you chuck a pillow at chishiya, to which he just dodges it before leaning back on the doorframe.

“Runt? Says the one who failed at basic flirting. Can’t even flirt with someone as easy as Arisu.” He tsks, shaking his head in mock disappointment, not paying attention to Arisu’s slightly caught off guard look at the sudden jab.

Chishiya watches as your eyebrows furrow and your jaw sets, clearly getting more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Eh, c’mon..I’m your big brother, I’m supposed to embarrass you—“ he mocks, getting cut off by you getting up and storming past him and going into a random room-presumably to calm yourself down.

Arisu, still stunned, just continues to sit there-watching as chishiya begins to snicker under his breath, before shaking his head and turning and walking back to where he was before.

Arisu just stares where you once were-you were flirting with him?-you were flirting with him! The person he thought didn’t even realize he existed, he can’t help but feel giddy and he wants to go talk to you and maybe help you calm down. But then the sudden voice of Kuina makes him jump.

“Did they really break the table.?” She mumbled sleepily, clearly still half asleep, making Arisu remember that she was sleeping on one of the couches in the corner of the room. Before he can speak, she speaks up again-her tone carrying a hint of teasing.

“You know…they really can make a bomb out of a can, seen them do it, it’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you, Kuina, for your much needed opinion.” He huffs out sarcastically, setting his soda can down and getting up, her voice speaking from the couch once more as she turns over to face away from him, in the verge of falling back asleep.

“Go get them already..”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

#arisu ryohei #alice in boderland x reader #aib x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in borderland #aib chishiya #ryohei arisu #arisu x reader #fanfic #x reader

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budbuddnbuddy · 7 months ago

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5 weird things that you’ve eaten in the Devildom.

A/n: i thought about what foods MC might’ve eaten in the Devildom since I don’t really see it on here going into depth for any other reason than smut. (no hate to those who do, I enjoy it too)

Warnings this post includes: Freaky demon food, demon body parts , MC pulls a William Buckland ( look up what he did to a king of France), spiders with muscles, just a bunch of dumb weird shit, Mc also wears a suit, in Diavolos section, nothing super romantic happens but you can think of it as both,

5# Devil Spider Crab Sushi Roll

When Leviathan heard that you liked sushi he immediately got all giddy and excited. He was the first one out of all his brothers to try it and the first one to introduce it to the rest of them.

“Really? Leviathan being the one to introduce people to new things?” You smiled as he blushed and looked away from you, the idea of it was so rare that you couldn’t help but be an asshole about it.

“Hey! I’m a shut in not a gatekeeper! Now are you gonna try it or not?!” He practically shoved the wooden chopsticks into your chest and you took a minute to glance down at the odd looking sushi that was still trapped in it’s container.

It was wrapped in the same way regular sushi would be wrapped. Rice,seaweed, more rice. It was just the main ingredient that made you hesitant.

3 gigantic spiders legs poking out through the middle of all 7 pieces of sushi.

If Levi hadn’t told you that those were spider legs you probably would’ve thought they were crab legs that’s how red they were,but that was just the meat of the Devil Spider Crab, the fact that they were big enough to muscle and bone in their legs made you want to almost throw up.

Using your chopsticks you pluck one of the sticky pieces of sushi out of the container and raise it to your face. Sniff sniff. “Doesn’t smell like anything weird…” That’s always a good sign right? You almost place the sushi in your mouth until-

“WAIT!!!”

You tilted your head as Levi set down small bowl of bubbling hot blue sauce. Sniff Sniff. It had a strong sweet smell, but you don’t remember seeing anything similar to this in the store where you guys bought the sushi in…

“uhh….this kind of Sushi can be kinda dry….s-s-so I made some dipping sauce for you!!! I didn’t even have to alter it because all the ingredients are totally human friendly!” You couldn’t help but smile at Leviathan’s thoughtful. He really went out of his way to make sure everything could be enjoyed safely huh?

Taking up your chopsticks with the piece of sushi in its clutches you dunk it in the still bubbling sweet blue sauce, blow on it in an attempt to cool it off, before giving up and just shoving the entire thing in your mouth.

Crunch!

Leviathan watches it all with intensity, watching as you crunch of the legs of the spider, shoving the legs that poke out into your mouth before swallowing it all.

“S-so….what do you think?”

Placing a finger to your chin and staring at the floor with a hardened gaze while attempting to put the flavors together.

“Hmm…..tastes like honey barbecue chicken.”

Not really the reaction he was looking for but hey, at least you liked the sauce!

4# Hellfire Zombie Body Ramen LIMITED EDITION FLAVOR

“Holly shit! MC! Come check this out!” It was about two in the morning. You and Mammon were at a gas station a few blocks down from the HOL. It was an obviously a bad idea to be out so late on a school night but honestly when did you ever go through with your refusals to Mammon anyway?

You shuffle over to where Mammon was excitedly pointing at, a flavor of his favorite brand of ramen came into view, one that you never seen before…

“Is that a new flavor? I’ve never seen that in the grocery store we go to…” You squint your eyes at the green packaging. ‘Hellfire Zombie Body Ramen: LIMITED EDITION!!! SPICE: XXXX’ There was even a picture of a Zombie on the front.

“Thought they stopped sellin’ these but the gas station has been loaded wit em all this time! Ain’t that right Belial?”

The Demon cashier slowly blinked as you glanced down at his name tag, sure enough it said “Belial.”

“…yes.” Man if there was one thing that the Devildom and the human world had in common it would probably be their retail workers hate for their jobs.

After about twenty ish minutes, the two of you snuck your way into the kitchen to prepare for your midnight snack. Once it was finished, you had a styrofoam cup filled with the ramen that you had recently bought.

“Tada! Enjoy!” You take a look at the ramen for the first time. The noodles were a dark bloody red to represent intestines, a few specks of brain and some teeth were scattered around in the broth, finally when you poked the noodles around to inspect some more you saw a big yellow eyeball hidden in the noodles, something that you promptly handed over to Mammon’s cup.

“Hmm…” After some poking prodding, you finally take your fork and twist it around some of the noodles. Raising the steaming red strings of intestines to your nose to give it a sniff. Sniff sniff….ugh gross and smells slightly….burnt?

Whatever, you thought while deciding to just bite the bullet and take a chomp full of the zombie ramen…before spitting it back into the cup again.

COUGH COUGH HACK! “Oi! D-don’t go dying on me!” Mammon practically teleports to your side and rubs your back as you cough up a storm.

Cough! “…It’s-“ hack! cough! “burnt AND sour!” Pushing away the cup, you grab the glass of water Mammon offers to you with a guilty, shameful look in his face.

“…I might’ve been on my phone for a little too long while those were in the microwave….heh” HE PUT THEM BOTH IN AT THE SAME TIME? “a-and it was super rotten flesh flavor! S-so the sour part ain’t my fault!”

Mammon then grabs his cup and takes a fork full before taking a big bite out of his own ramen….before spitting it back into the cup as well…

“Eugh…that DOES taste like ass…”

3# SUPER CUTE KITTY MEW MEW PUDDING

You and Satan stared down in awe at the plate that was set in front of you by your waitress.

“Your ‘Super Cute Kitty Mew Mew Pudding’ with extra ‘Cute Kitty Kitty Mew Mew sugar drizzle’….Lord Satan and….human master.” The waitress then grumbled about putting in her two week notice as more cats started surrounding your table.

“…It’s perfect”

“Marvelous….”

“A grace to this realm…”

“How could something ever be this glorious…?”

The two of you are, of course, talking about the giant massive portion of wiggling cat shaped pudding. It had everything on the head of a cat, two giantic ears, 8 whiskers, a big triangle nose and two adorable big eyes-

“Mew!”

and it was alive.

The two of you spent hours cooing and gushing over the Kitty pudding. Feeding it mapple syrup and sugar packs while one of the chefs goes on a tirade about how he’s ’Sick of his job.’ and ‘refuses to make another damn cat pudding for grown ass people.’ Oh yeah that’s right, about a good 70% of the people surrounding you had their own cute cat pudding and were happily munching away at it.

But not you and Satan no no no.

…Well, at least not yet. You had to get attached first!

So about 30 minutes before closing, you can Satan scooped up a massive ear of the kitty pudding and tap the ends of your spoons together.

Click!

“Cheers to cat cafes?” He smiled as you smiled warmly right back at him, glad that you approved of his new use of human lingo.

“To cat cafes!”

The pudding itself wasnt particularly all that special, but it wasn’t about the taste it was about the effect. Once you chewed the pudding into little bits the kitty just multiplied into even more tiny kitties, now your mouth was filled with meowing tiny kittens!

“This is heaven…”

“Indeed”

2# RAD CAFETERIA FOOD.

Quietly standing on the lunch line you watch as the goblin women in front of you, green skin, red lipstick, with a cigarette in her mouth, scoop up a large amount of dark purple slop and raise it up towards you slightly.

“Move ova ya tray.” She says bluntly in a deep raspy voice probably due to all the smoking she’s done. You do as you are told, shakily holding out your tray as she plopped the mush of dark purple slop right down in the biggest section of your tray.

“T-thank you ma’am…” Her face lights up for a second after you give your gratitude, before she slams down another big portion of purple bullshit on your tray again…mostly likely a reaction from your manners. Seems like the staff here aren’t exactly used to that…

You take a seat next to Beelzebub after paying for your food, by the looks of it he was on his 7th tray, staring intensely at it.

Munch Munch Chew “You gonna-“ gulp “finish that?” Guess the uncertainty on your face was too obvious.

“The lunch lady on line 9 gave me extra…I’m not sure if i should eat it but I don’t wanna be rude…” You continue to stare at your plate while looking back at the goblin lady who was still serving a very long line of hungry RAD students.

“You mean Ms.Pruin?” Beel questions as he slides over his next plate. “She’s the best cook in RAD, her food is really good. You should give it a try.”

You look over at the goblin lady, now Ms.Pruin, once again, still working tirelessly serving hungry students but every now and then glancing over at your direction with a hopeful look in her eye.

Well…if Beel says it’s the best, it’s gotta at least be somewhat okay, right. With that you take your spoon and scoop up a portion of the purple slop and stick it right into your mouth.

Munch munch munch

You brace yourself for a wave of overwhelming foreign flavors, something nasty, something that would numb your tongue right out your mouth, something-

Huh?

“Wait…there’s no flavor!” You stared at your spoon in confusion before taking some more bites out of the slop. Nothing.

“Really? Let me see.” Beel takes your spoon from you and pops a large portion into his mouth, munching on it carefully before swallowing it all down before putting a finger to his chin…then his face lights up.

“The original recipe has an ingredient that’s deadly to humans, angels, and even some demons. She must have taken it out and given you a modified version of the dish.”

You smiled wildly to yourself before gobbling up the rest of your tasteless lunch with glee and from that day, you made sure to always get your lunch from Line 9.

1# Demon Heart.

You sat from across Diavolo at the table outside in the large gazebo in the middle of the pond. Glistening clear water so still surrounds the two of you. Schools of fish circling around you constantly, the trees droop down and sway with the wind, flowers of all different colors are scattered all around the two of you. Just the two of you.

You unconditionally straightened your tie as Diavolo stares at you, elbows set down right on the edge of the edge, resting his chin on the back of his hands, staring. Deeply and lovingly.

“I cannot express enough to you enough how happy I am that you accepted my invitation.” You sigh, glad that he was the one to break the tense silence.

“No problem Lord Diavolo, I mean I don’t think anyone would turn down the opportunity to come to a place like this. It’s gorgeous.” You look around some more, taking in all the details as you were sure that you wouldn’t be coming back here anytime soon.

“I’m sure after that long day at RAD as well as that car ride, that you must be starving yes?” You nodded, Diavolo has asked you not to eat lunch after you agreed to his invite.

“I’m glad. I have a surprise for you.” As soon as he said that, Barbatos as well as some other staff members of the Demon Kings Castle, two hidden dishes are set in front of you both. His is revealed while yours stays in front of you. Some fancy looking meat and strange looking vegetables on the side, drizzled over the meat was bright blue sauce.

“The food looks amazing.” It looked like something you’d see in a five Michelin star restaurant, the fact that he got to eat things like that every single day whenever he wanted was a concept that you were still struggling to comprehend, even after all the time you’ve known him.

“Yours is something much grander. I promise.” With those words, he moves over your plates and take your hands into his own. Looking at you with full sincerity.

“MC…by now you know of my dream for all three realms, peace, equality, and prosperity for all.” You watch as frowns in shame after he spoke.

“However…give our past with eating humans in various ways, myself included,I feel as if that it would be right to set things even. An eye for an eye.”

You squint at him, what was he saying? Did he mean what you really think he means? There’s….there’s no way he actually….

Before you could even form another thought the your dinner plate was revealed, and you could stop your head from looking down.

“…huh?”

A big, brownish, reddish, demon heart laid in the middle of your plate, right in front of you, cleaned and prepared for your consumption.

He was literally letting you eat his heart to atone for his past.

“You don’t have to eat it, I would never force you to do something. However do know that I have more where that came from, I’m sure it’ll grow back eventually.” While you only really heard bits and pieces of that due to the fact that you were still in shock, you got the message.

“….MC?” Finally you relaxed your shoulders and calmed down, before a smile came on your face as you looked at Diavolo.

“I’ve eaten many strange things before in this world. But I’ve never eaten the heart of a future demon king before.”

And before he could get another world in, you sliced up the heart and gobbled it all up, bite by bite by bite. It tasted like human world meat….which kind, you weren’t exactly sure,more like all of them at once but you were sure about one thing.

“How does it taste?”

You grin widely.

“Tastes like home.”

#I feel like Diavolo would have more than one heart #how many exactly? I don’t know #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me!#obey me mc

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gothcsz · 6 months ago

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Need To Know | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~8.6k wc | Part 3 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: The aftermath of Javier knowing who his gatita is.

Tags: stalking, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), spanking, creampie, pwp, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i had every intention of making this a three part series but i'm just... in love with these two so expect maybe one or two more works with them 🖤 this one's for all my s3 javi truthers out there. i see you, i recognize you, we stand together 🙂‍↕️ mwah, disfruten 💋

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

“Stoddard, my office. Now.”

The younger agent just about craps his pants at his boss’s authoritative tone, getting looks from both Feistl and Van Ness.

“Someone’s in trouble.”

There’s a few hushed laughs as the door to Javier’s office closes. He goes to sit at his desk, pulling out your press lanyard, which is right next to the envelope that holds your naughty polaroids, from the top drawer and he hands it across to him.

“Have you seen this woman before?”

The second Stoddard recognizes your face, he blinks rapidly and swallows thickly before attempting to disguise his reaction with an unconvincing shake of his head.

“No boss.”

Javier laughs humorlessly, scratching at his jaw.

“Alright let’s try that again, except this time you’re going to tell me the truth.”

And just like that, Stoddard folds. He tells his superior everything; from the run ins at the market to the almost weekly debriefs you two shared in various coffee shops around the city.

So that’s how you’ve been getting information. Using that grit of yours that’s driven him crazy since the first night you showed up. Enlisting in the help of a more… timid agent.

But he’s sure that any man you approached would have crumbled like Stoddard, abandoning anything to fulfill whatever you asked of him.

After all, you’ve got Javier, the boss, wrapped around your finger— completely at your mercy. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it.

The silence that settles is thick until Javier asks, “Did you sleep with her?”

Stoddard’s reaction is almost cartoonish. His eyes widen, and this time, he gives a more frantic, convincing head shake. “N-no sir absolutely not!”

He just had to make sure, despite you telling him that it’s only been him. Though that could have easily been a heat of the moment thing.

Once upon a time, he was the one sleeping around for information, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that you were doing the same.

Kind of hypocritical of him to be worked up over the prospect of you indulging in similar antics.

Anything to get a good story— so why not fuck with the DEA’s head?

He’s not usually this possessive over his partners, but you’re unlike any of the others and it’s aggravating how you’ve got him wound up so tight.

“Next time you want to feed information to the press, you tell me first. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Go.”

He dismisses the younger agent and Stoddard eagerly departs. Javier’s never seen him move that fast.

His initial reaction to knowing your identity was to track you down and immediately confront you. But after many contemplative drinks and cigs; he decided against it.

It was too impulsive, and he wasn’t sure what he would do once he was face to face with your unmasked countenance.

The downfall of Cali had also put a pin in his plans, with him so wrapped up in finding then reprimanding the right people— all the while watching his back from the assholes on Uncle Sam’s side.

Now, after doing all that he could in his fucking job, he’s able to return to this, to you, with much less on his shoulders. For the time being.

He asked his secretary about you next, and that’s where he figured out where he remembered you from.

“She called and asked for a meeting weeks ago, but as per your request; I told her no can do.”

Then you proceeded to wait outside for him, despite the pouring rain, and he had regrettably blown you off.

To his defense, he was dealing with a lot of bullshit that day (as he always is) and didn’t have the time to stop and chat with a pretty reporter.

He then asked the security guard that was working the night you visited his office if he recognized you, to which the older man immediately said, “Si, su prometida.”

He found himself smirking at that, amusement curling at the edges of his mouth.

“¿Tiene vídeo de seguridad de esa noche?”

And with that, he was able to see how you conned your way up to his floor and into his office. There was no audio, just the visual of you leaning over the desk and using your body to distract this poor old man, your hand raising to show off the ring, then you excitingly striding over to the elevator that was off screen.

He supposes he should be alarmed, wary of you, but he isn’t.

He’s dealt with the media and journalists countless of times, he knows how relentless they can get. It’s no surprise that you share the same characteristic.

It’s all piecing together. Catalyst, motive, execution. Though he does wonder why exactly you’re doing this.

Was it to get ahead of any story pertaining to Cali? Maybe something else that’s unraveling beneath Javier’s nose that he hasn’t sniffed out yet?

Your motive is lost on him, which is why he needs to launch a small, personal investigation of his own to figure out what exactly you’re after.

He stakes out your job for a day but you never come in and it makes him antsy. He could pull some strings, do some flirting around the embassy to get information on an American journalist working in the capitol.

But he won’t. Instead, he takes a page from your book— even though he has no idea that you’ve been the one watching him all this time.

Then it happens. You show up, instantly capturing his attention.

The sun bathes everything in a golden light, but it seems to focus especially on you, making you glow as you bound up the steps of the building.

You’re wearing a pretty dress that momentarily short-circuits his brain, gaze lingering on how well it fits your figure.

Vivid images of your body writhing beneath his, shaking the desk while he fucked you senseless, cloud his mind and his jaw tenses.

He’s torn, flitting through the outcomes of how a confrontation would go if he were to do it now, when you reemerge from the building, heading back down the street you came.

Javier decides to follow you.

He watches as you stop to have lunch, chatting with the waitress that tends to you as you sit outside, notebooks spread out on the table with your head bowed over them in concentration.

He wonders what you’re working on.

He watches as you run your errands; stopping by the dry cleaners to pick up your pressed blouses and pencil skirts.

After, you wander through an outdoor market, carefully selecting fresh fruit. That’s where he learns you have a particular fondness for mangos and plums.

Then lastly, a video store that you spend way too much time in before coming out, and he’s upset that he can’t tell what tapes you’ve rented out for the evening.

This is no different than any of the previous stakeouts he’s done, that’s how he rationalizes watching you for the rest of the week.

When he isn’t drowning in work at the office, he’s trailing you through the city, piecing together the details of your daily life.

He notices the subtle nuances that define you— the little habits and preferences that make you who you are.

Yet, despite all this observation, he still wonders how the fuck he’s going to confront you about it all.

Javier finally reaches his breaking point after a fruitless day of searching Bogotá for you.

Now, he’s back at his usual spot, parked outside your workplace, chewing his gum with a vengeance while his leg bounces restlessly in the cramped space of his car.

Fuck this.

He’s done with the cat-and-mouse game.

It doesn’t take much persuasion to get your boss to lead him to your cubicle. The man even boasts about the view, claiming it’s the best in the city, before leaving Javier alone.

He studies the photos of you and friends from back home on your desk, postcards that you’ve been meaning to send, a kaleidoscope of colorful post-it notes with a variety of reminders and to-do’s scattered about.

Everything about you is vastly different from the gatita he knows.

His gaze settles on your address book, tucked discreetly between binders and folders. After a quick glance around to ensure no one is watching, he slides it out, flips it open, and quickly scribbles down your apartment and phone number before carefully placing it back in its original spot.

Looking out of the window, he notices the panoramic view of the city; with the embassy building in perfect line of sight. That can’t be a coincidence.

He leaves after that, resolute on making his way to your apartment, when his mobile phone begins to ring.

Muttering a quick fuck, he answers.

“Peña.”

“Es Carolina. I’m ready to meet.”

The President of Colombia’s campaign was partially funded by the cartel in return for amnesty deal.

Cartel members are now being extradited to the United States.

It’s all big. fucking. news. You’re rushing to la Casa de Nariño just like every other reporter is, all eager to get the best seat at the impromptu press conference that’s being held.

With your camera, recording device and determination in hand, you’re racing up the marbled steps to join the crowd when you’re stopped by an officer.

“Sólo personal y la prensa pueden pasar por este punto.”

“Yo soy reportera.” You hiss, narrowing your gaze.

“Pruébalo. Identificación, por favor.”

He gives you a look that makes you want to knock his teeth out but you refrain from doing so, grumbling out some expletives and reaching for the familiar lanyard around your neck… only to find it gone.

Your confusion is written all over your face and the officer flashes you a shit-eating grin.

“Sin identificación no hay entrada.”

You were so eager to get here that you hadn’t thought twice about it since you always have it on you.

Pissed off that you’re being denied access because of your own oversight, you turn on your heel and quite literally stomp all the way back to your car.

You can feel that smug asshole staring you down.

You search between the seats of your car, finding nothing but crumpled receipts and loose change— even that tube of lipgloss you’d lost forever ago, but no lanyard.

It has to be at your apartment. After everything that happened with Javier, you took some much-needed time off work to clear your head and regain your focus. You haven’t set foot in the office for a few days now, and even the last time you were there, it was just a quick visit—no reason for you to have brought it along.

Fuck, you hope you’re able to make it back in time to catch some semblance of the story. If not that, then at least to snap some good photos of the aftermath.

What a rookie-fucking-move. And today of all days.

Your heels and pencil skirt make the four-flight sprint to your floor a challenge, but you’d rather tackle the stairs than endure the agonizingly slow elevator that creeps up the building like a dying snail.

With hurried hands, you unlock the door and dash inside, immediately diving into the piles of magazines on your coffee table. When you find nothing, you frantically search every corner of the room, but your efforts come up empty.

A groan of frustration escapes your lips, and you mutter a string of curses under your breath as you head toward your bedroom.

This morning, you distinctly remember closing the door behind you. Now, it stands wide open, but in your haste, the irregularity doesn’t register.

As you step inside, your heart plummets to your stomach, the sensation akin to that gut-wrenching drop on a terrifying amusement park ride.

There, dressed in a navy suit with his hands on his hips is Javier Peña, studying the shrine you’ve made of him on the wall.

How the fuck did he get in?

Your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, the room spinning. Despite knowing that you’re standing right there; his focus remains ahead.

“You’re very detailed.”

You’re trembling now, the weight of your secret being exposed dragging you down as if cinderblocks have been chained to your ankles and you’re being thrown into a bottomless pit.

What do you say? What is there to say?

Oh hey Javier! Yeah don’t mind that. It’s not like I’ve been stalking you for weeks. That’s absurd!

“Why— how—” Your voice sounds so small, the words failing to form on your tongue and this has him finally turning to face you.

The urgency you felt before is now long gone and replaced with crippling anxiety and embarrassment. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as you stare into those captivating brown eyes of his.

“Figured I’d be a good person and return this to its owner.”

He pulls the goddamn press lanyard from inside of his jacket pocket, and your eyes widen in shock.

That night in his office. Surely you must’ve left it there unknowingly. Idiot!

He tosses it carelessly onto your dresser, his gaze never breaking yours, as he slowly begins to close the distance.

Your pulse quickens with each step he takes, the space between you shrinking until you can taste the tension in the air.

“Javi—”

“Shh,” he hushes, beginning to circle you, moving with the deliberate grace of a predator closing in on its prey.

The tables have turned. It’s his turn to wield the power.

You obey, instinctively biting your lower lip as his eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight of your work attire.

They linger on the curve of your ass, then slide up to the way your blouse clings to your chest, tracing every contour.

A slow burn ignites within you, heat pooling at your core from the intensity of his presence.

“Wasn’t very hard to get your address and it was even easier convincing your landlord to let me in. The fiancé bit is genius, no wonder you used it down at the embassy.”

Shit, he knows about that too. You wonder just how much he’s figured out.

“You’ve been watching me for a while now, haven’t you gatita?”

You whimper, hearing the name out in broad daylight and without your mask on feeling taboo for some reason.

He finally positions himself behind you, his warm breath grazing your ear as he brushes your hair aside, exposing the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“Breaking into my apartment. My office.”

Before you can respond, his strong hands seize your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasp, feeling the undeniable pressure of his erection pressing against your ass as he grinds into you.

“Snooping around my employees.”

One of his hands slides up, fingers digging into your breast with a rough possessiveness that makes you moan, your head falling back onto his shoulder in surrender.

You gaze up at him, your breath hitching as his eyes slowly roam over your face, lingering on the curve of your cupid’s bow, the elegant arch of your brow, the softness of your cheeks—his admiration leaving you breathless, yearning for more.

“Getting everything you need for your stories then fucking with me on the side. Think you’re so clever, huh?”

The hand on your hip begins its descent, trailing down until his fingers are toying with the hem of your skirt. He lets them linger, teasingly brushing against the bare skin of your thigh just above the edge of your skin-toned stockings.

“I shouldn’t even be here giving you what you want. But you’ve got me wrapped around that beautiful little finger of yours. I couldn’t stay away even if I tried.”

A desperate sound escapes your lips as his fingers slowly glide to the inside of your thigh. His knee nudges your legs wider apart, allowing him to lightly graze over your slit, the barrier of your cotton panties doing little to dull the feeling.

What? You hadn’t expected to get laid today. Well… if all had panned out how you hoped— you actually would’ve been making another house call tonight after the press conference.

But he’s bested you. Beat you at your own game.

“Dime. ¿Que quieres?”

“You, Javi, I want you.”

“Is that why you’ve been following me around everywhere? Getting classified information on my operations?”

His thick fingers press firmly against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear, and your hips instinctively buck, seeking more of that delicious friction.

“Yes,” you moan softly, biting down on your lower lip as his thumb circles over your stiffened nipple, which strains against the fabric of your bra and silk blouse. “I was assigned to cover you and your involvement with Cali. After everything with Escobar, everyone was betting that you’d follow the same formula to bring the others down.”

Javier’s chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours and teeth gritting at the subtle mention of his tactics when it came to bringing down Escobar.

“But the more I got to know about you, the more interested I became.” You confess, the words spilling from you with unguarded honesty. There’s no reason to keep the cards so close to your chest anymore.

You’ll tell him everything, and if he decides to let you go after having his way with you one final time, then so be it.

You’ll just make sure to make it extra memorable for him if that’s the case.

“So handsome. So capable. Fucking brilliant and tough. I fell in love with you, Agente Peña.”

He grunts in response, leaning in so that his aquiline nose grazes the smooth skin of your cheek, his lips hovering just shy of yours.

“Is that right? La gatita fell in love?”

You nod timidly, wanting nothing more than to press your lips against his and kiss him.

His fingers continue their torment, now nudging your underwear aside to press directly against the slick, swollen flesh of your cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body trembling in his arms as you feel the pressure building within you.

“So what happens if I don’t feel the same, hm? What if this is nothing but a good fuck to me? What then, clever girl?”

He teases your clit in slow, tight circles, his words cutting into your heart, but the pleasure he’s giving you drowns out the sting.

His touch is intoxicating, making it impossible to think clearly.

“Then I’ll get over it and move on,” you manage to whisper, grinding your hips in sync with his movements, your juices coating his fingers as he parts them into a V, massaging your sensitive labia.

A whiny moan slips out of you, and his hand moves from your breast to your throat, wrapping around it with a gentle squeeze.

“Mírame.”

His commanding tone snaps your eyes open, locking onto his. Their usual warm toned color now drowned in darkness to match his lust.

“Move on? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have?”

Without warning, he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, and your back arches against him, a breathy sigh of his name slipping from your lips.

“Wouldn’t even try to convince me otherwise, gatita?”

“What do I look like convincing a man to love me?”

Javier’s grip on your throat tightens, his jaw clenching at your words as his fingers thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “You know I’m just bullshitting. I’m never letting you go.”

He curls his fingers, expertly brushing against that sensitive, spongy spot inside you that dots your vision, and you gasp, your nails digging into his forearm as a surge of ecstasy ripples through you.

You can’t tell if the words he’s saying are born from genuine emotion or just fueled by the ferocity of his horniness.

But in this moment, it doesn’t matter. You push the logical part of your mind aside and surrender to the sensation, allowing yourself to be consumed by his touch, his words, his passion— everything that drives you wild about him.

Javier finally claims your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth with an urgency that leaves you lovestruck.

You moan softly, sucking on his tongue before playfully nipping at his lower lip.

He grunts in response, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he shifts the rhythm of his fingers inside you, coaxing out every moan and whimper of bliss.

He swallows each sound greedily, deepening the kiss, making it clear that in this moment, he’s completely lost in you.

“That’s right, baby, come all over my fingers. I can feel you clenching around them.” He scissors his digits inside you, each movement drawing you closer to the edge.

Your wetness has smeared everywhere, squelching sounds of his fingers fucking you only helping him in his quest to make you come.

His cock grinds against your ass, hard and insistent, and the urge to reach down and palm him through his work slacks is overwhelming.

But the way he has you positioned, and the dizzying gratification he’s giving you, makes it impossible to do anything but take it.

“Javi,” you sigh, your voice trembling with need, “I’m so close. Dame un beso.”

He smirks, adding his thumb to the mix as he presses it firmly against your throbbing clit.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss just as your thighs begin to tense, and your orgasm crashes over you with breathtaking intensity.

You ride out the waves of aftershock, your lips parting from his as you struggle to catch your breath.

Javier’s mouth moves to your ear, whispering sweet words that make you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, completely wrapped in the afterglow of him.

He slowly withdraws his fingers from you, and they’re coated in your release, glistening in the sunlight that pours in from your bedroom windows.

Without breaking eye contact, he brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean and that makes you whimper, the familiar heat of arousal already rekindling deep in your core.

“Open that pretty mouth, gatita.”

Obediently, you part your lips, and he leans in close, letting a thick drop of his spit fall from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow.”

The command is electrifying, leaving you feeling all charged with a tension only Javier can elicit.

You swallow, the faint taste of yourself mixed with his saliva lingering on your tongue, and it’s the hottest, most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced.

He swiftly spins you around in his arms, and you instinctively wrap yours around his neck as your lips crash together in a passionate kiss.

The potency of it makes your head spin, and his hands are everywhere—exploring your curves, tracing the length of your body until they find the zipper of your skirt.

With a swift tug, he pulls it down and pushes it over your hips, letting it fall to the floor in a soft rustle of fabric. You step out of it, slipping off your heels in the process, all while your lips remain locked with his.

Your fingers eagerly push his suit jacket off his shoulders, and you waste no time unbuttoning his shirt, your hands shaking with anticipation.

“How much do you like this blouse?” he murmurs against your lips, his large hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric.

“I don’t really—”

Before you can finish, he’s ripping the blouse apart, buttons flying as he tears it open to reveal your bra-clad chest.

The sheer force of it catches you off guard, and you gasp, the sound muffled by his mouth on yours. The unrestrained eagerness in his action only serves to turn you on further, making your heart race even faster.

When you’re both stripped down just to your underwear, you begin to lead him to your bed but he stops you, once again pulling you back until you’re flush against his warm, solid chest.

“We’ve got plenty of other opportunities to fuck in bed. I want to take you right over here.”

His words have anticipation dancing up your spine as he gently steers you toward the large, full-length mirror in the corner of your room. When you’re standing in front of it, your eyes lock with his in the reflection.

“Look at how gorgeous you are, nena. Why would you hide such a pretty face behind a mask?”

Javier’s strokes your cheek affectionately, truly in awe with how beautiful you are. Then, his touch moves to your arms, and he drags one of your bra straps down your shoulder.

His lips follow the path of exposed skin with open-mouthed kisses, each one igniting a fire on your skin.

You let out a shaky breath. “You blew me off once. I didn’t want it to happen again. Thought keeping my identity a mystery would make me more enticing.”

His touch is deliberate, savoring every inch of your skin as he teases you. The sight of his sinewy hands on you, combined with his heated gaze in the mirror, makes your heart race and your core ache with need.

His nose glides up the curve of your shoulder until he’s kissing your neck. His tongue flicks out to trace a path up to your ear, biting down on the lobe gently.

“Don’t take it so personally, gatita,” he murmurs in a seductive purr. “I had a lot going on that day.” His fingers deftly undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall and revealing your bare breasts.

A low groan escapes him as he takes in the sight. His hands move to cup your tits, relishing in their warmth and weight in his palms.

You shift restlessly, your thighs rubbing together as your breaths come in quick, ragged gasps. His fingers play with your nipples, pinching and tugging until they’re tender and stiff.

Desperate for more, you reach back between the two of you and grasp his hard cock. A pleased hum escapes you as you feel the damp spot of precum seeping through the cotton.

“Want you in my mouth, baby,” you coo, regaining your confidence as he smiles against your neck, planting a soft kiss on your pulse before stepping back to let you spin around and sink to your knees.

He swiftly pulls down his boxers, and you don’t waste a second. You envelop his fat tip between your lips, skipping the usual teasing.

Javier’s voice, deep and gravelly, drawls your name in a way that sends jolts of excitement straight to your clit. You move your head rhythmically, your tongue tracing along his underside as you blow him with eagerness, losing yourself in the act.

He grips the back of your neck, guiding you as he begins to thrust into your mouth, making you gag and drool over his cock.

“Shit, just like that,” he groans, his eyes shifting from looking down at you to the mirror, where he watches, absolutely satisfied, as you expertly suck him off.

Your mouth travels down to his balls, your tongue teasing the fleshy sack, saliva pooling in your mouth before spitting on them, then you suck one into your mouth.

He tenses, cursing fervently in Spanish as you move to the other, giving it the same attentive care while your hand wraps around his throbbing dick, stroking him.

“Such a fucking sight, gatita,” he growls. “Swallowing my cock like a good little slut. I’m tempted to paint that pretty face of yours with my cum.”

The thought of it has lustful excitement buzzing through you, a muffled moan vibrating against his cock that prompts him to pull you off roughly.

He grips the base of his shaft and smacks it a few times against your mascara, tear-streaked cheeks— it’s evidence of your eager submission. His cock, wet and heavy, leaves a trail of slickness on your skin.

He traces his plush head over the curve of your lips that are glimmering from the messy blowjob. You pucker up, pressing a fat, wet kiss to his flushed tip.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

You flash him a playful, cutesy smile, and he tenderly caresses your cheek again, making your heart skip a beat.

With a gentle touch, he kneels on the carpet alongside you, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before guiding you into position.

On all fours, facing the mirror, his broad, handsome frame looming behind you. Javier’s dark eyes meet yours through the reflection, intense and full of promise.

He’s going to give it to you good.

His hands trace the curves of your body, caressing and kneading with an adoring touch, cherishing the feel of every part of you.

It’s a contrast to the frantic pace of previous hook ups— much more like the sweet aftercare he gave you that night in his office.

Javier pulls down your panties, a lopsided smile playing on his lips as he takes in the sight.

You’re completely exposed in front of him.

“Tan hermosa, gatita.” he murmurs, his voice a husky caress. “You don’t understand how good it feels seeing all of you now. Fantasized about this so many nights.”

He bends over, his lips brushing tender kisses along the back of your shoulder, then trailing down the curve of your spine. You arch your back, instinctively responding to his touch.

The way you both connect so seamlessly speaks of the depth of your intimacy and how quickly it evolved.

“I tried to bury myself in other women,” he confesses. “It didn’t fucking work. No pussy is as good as yours.”

His name escapes you in a sweet whimper, “Javi,” and his hands grip the lush curves of your hips

You feel a twinge of jealousy bloom at your chest at hearing that he’s been with other women, while you have not even thought about another man since laying eyes on him.

“Accusing me of spreading my legs for the entire city, meanwhile it’s been you all along. I shouldn’t even let you fuck me, you whore.”

A sharp, stinging crack echoes through the room as his hand lands on your ass, the sudden impact making you jolt forward.

“Ah!” you yelp, the sting of the spank sending a rush of heat through you.

“No empieces con esas babosadas, gatita. I’ll make you eat your fucking heart out.”

“Sounds delicious,” you quip, your tone teasing and sultry.

Another spank lands, and you don’t bother hiding how much you enjoy it. Your reflection in the mirror smirks back at him, and you catch the sly, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Traviesita,” he tuts in a reprimand. His length slides teasingly along your folds, the head of his cock pressing insistently against your clit.

The feeling is electrifying, causing your confident smirk to fade into a biting, anxious grip on your lower lip.

Your wetness mingles with his precum and your saliva from before, creating a slick, intoxicating lubricant that allows him to glide effortlessly into your tight, hot cunt.

Your face, heated with desire and utterly exposed, meets his gaze in the mirror as his cock slowly disappears into your pussy.

It feels profoundly intimate.

The weight of his thick cock filling you, coupled with that fucking look that he has on his face, deepens the connection and amplifies the feeling that you have for him, making the experience even more consuming.

It’s going to be so hard to move on if he decides you’re not what he wants.

Once he bottoms out, your head drops forward between your shoulders, a quivering exhale escaping your mouth and your arms lightly shaking.

The overwhelming fullness of him stretching you makes your entire being blaze with vehemence. Each inch of his cock that he feeds into your pussy ignites a cascade of euphoric delight, leaving you panting and needing more.

“Eyes on me, nena,” he commands softly yet firmly, a blend of authority and tenderness.

The demand to keep your gaze locked with his only heightens your senses. His gun calloused hands grip your waist with a steadying force, guiding you as he moves inside you.

It’s a downright delicious feeling, your folds gripping onto his shaft and spreading with each shallow thrust he delivers.

You admire how sexy he looks as he begins to fuck you. His brows furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched tight, occasionally flexing with each thrust. Your cunt continues to swallow him back in, begging him not to go.

His pretty pink lips, so kissable and enticing, make you wish you weren’t bent over like this so you could taste them. But then he delivers a particularly forceful snap of his hips, making you cry out.

You instinctively move your ass back against him, your mind cleared of all thoughts that aren’t his girthy cock.

“Mira que bella te vez taking this cock. Fuck yourself on it, don’t be shy baby.”

You can’t help the flutter in your heart as he calls you beautiful, the compliment urges you to do as you’re told.

You slide your knees apart slightly, adjusting your position to get better leverage as he stills, cock pressed so deep inside of you, you can practically taste it coming up your throat.

You begin to move your hips slowly, sensually, setting a rhythm that lets him slip in and out of you with a deliberate, tantalizing pace.

It’s electrifying, your thighs slapping against his with each thrust. The ripple of flesh on your ass is captivating, drawing his attention completely.

Javier is torn between the sight of you splitting yourself open on his cock and the blissful, fucked-out expression that adorns your face. Both are equally mesmerizing, and he can’t decide which is more arousing.

“So fucking pretty,” he voices with a deep growl of approval, overwhelmed by the visual feast.

He lavishes you with praise in both English and Spanish, his words stoking the fire of your arousal. The way you move back against him grows more urgent, and his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to get a better view of the connection between your bodies.

Groaning deeply, Javier starts to match your rhythm, his thrusts synchronized with your movements. The pace you both settle into causes your core to tighten, the build-up of your second orgasm sneaking up on you with a mounting vigor.

Your knees ache from the friction against the carpet, but the discomfort blends with your fervor, pushing you closer to the edge of your climax.

As your eyes lock with his again, you convey that you’re on the brink wordlessly. He tilts his head with a patronizing smirk, his brown eyes dancing with a mischievous sparkle.

“Already, gatita?” he chuckles smugly, his voice laced with playful arrogance. “S’okay, let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words are the final catalyst, and it’s both exhilarating and a bit embarrassing how quickly he makes you finish.

He’s the first man to ever make you come from just penetration, and you can’t help but let him revel in this achievement.

As you come, your pussy quivers and your walls pulse around him, your creamy release coating his cock while you scream out his name.

The eye contact makes it hotter, despite the struggle to keep yours open.

Javier continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even as you go limp, your arms giving out. Your chest falls onto the carpet, your cheek pressing against the textured fabric, completely surrendering to the blissful exhaustion that overtakes you.

He pulls out with a soft groan, his cock swollen and pulsating, glistening with your mixed juices. It rests between your ass cheeks as he bends over you, his lips trailing gentle, reverent kisses across your heated skin. He moves from your lower back up to your ear.

“¿Todo bien, corazón?”

The new term of endearment makes you moan softly, your head nodding in response, eyes closed as you struggle to catch your breath.

His mouth continues its tender assault, soothing you with its gentle touch, yet you can’t ignore the subtle way his hips grind against you, his shaft brushing against the soft skin of your ass and teasing your puckered hole.

“You didn’t finish.”

“I’m more focused on trying to get you out of the clouds than getting mine right now,” he replies, his sincerity cutting through the haze of your arousal.

You smile, his sweet statement pulling you back into the familiar, heady trance he always manages to put you in.

It reignites your lust, bringing you to the throbbing need he so effortlessly inspires.

You push yourself upright onto your knees, pressing firmly against him as his hands explore every part of you they can reach.

“On your back, agente,” you purr in a sultry and commanding tone.

His eyes narrow, curiosity and challenge evident, but he obeys, shifting away from you and laying flat on his back, positioning himself horizontally from the mirror.

The reflection is, for lack of a better word, hot as hell. His beautiful figure sprawled out on the floor, messy dick just waiting for you to take a ride.

You crawl over him with sensual grace, echoing the way you broke into his apartment on that rainy night, your mouth working to milk his cock.

As you reach his groin, you pause, your gaze meeting his. He’s already watching you intently, making you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. You give him a playful wink, then stick out your tongue, licking his shaft clean of your cum.

Your name vibrates in his chest, followed by a litany of expletives and you hum contently at the reaction. With a satisfied smile, you straddle his hips, positioning yourself perfectly above him.

“Think your back can handle this?” you tease, grinding your freshly fucked, sensitive cunt against his hard, naked cock. Leaning over him, you place your hands on either side of his head, your lips just inches from his.

His hands seize your ass with a rough grip, fingers digging into the flesh as he guides your hips to rock against his length. “Muñequita, don’t be such a tease. I’m letting you take whatever you want.”

“You’re not letting me do anything,” you breathe out, tightening your thighs around his hips, locking him in place.

He could easily overpower you, but he won’t. The sight of you on his lap, completely cock drunk with only his touch to satiate you—your breasts hanging enticingly close to his face, your pussy grinding along his length—is more than enough for him to relinquish control, something he rarely does.

But you’ve changed that for him, shifted his view on power dynamics in the bedroom.

Your hand wraps around his thick, veiny base, guiding him to your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto his cock, your head falling back as you take him in, inch by glorious inch.

The angle is perfect, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout. Your mouth falls open, breath catching in your throat as you nestle him fully inside, your walls squeezing around him.

It drives Javier wild, dark eyes focusing on the different expressions that flit across your beautiful countenance, seeing your face completely bare like this only strengthens his feelings for you.

Your hands slide up to rest on his broad chest, stabilizing yourself as you begin to swivel your hips in slow, sensual circles. The delicious drag of his cock slipping in and out of you sends shivers down your spine, and the room fills with the symphony of your shared moans and grunts, the wiry hairs at his base tickling your clit with each movement.

You grind down on him, rolling your hips in that way that’s supposed to feel good only for you. But with every tense of your muscles, every tight squeeze of your walls around him, Javier is utterly consumed by you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together.

Now, it’s his turn to be drunk on you, completely overwhelmed by the way you command his pleasure.

The sight of the two of you in the mirror, bodies intertwined and moving together in perfect rhythm is like work of art— each motion a brushstroke on the canvas of desire.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Javier murmurs, one hand gripping your ass while the other moves up to roughly palm your tit, his fingers pinching your nipple.

“Mhm,” you hum, completely lost in the moment, focused entirely on the euphoria coursing through you. You feel his cock swell inside you, a clear sign that he’s on the precipice.

With a wicked grin, you change your rhythm, shifting from grinding to bouncing, your hands finding purchase on his strong thighs as you lean back.

The new angle gives him an unobstructed view of your pussy eagerly taking his cock, and the sight drives him wild.

“You’re so fucking hot, gatita,” he groans, watching as your breasts bounce with each movement. You ride him like a pro, your entire being burning with exertion, knowing full well that the delicious ache spreading through your muscles will leave you sore and satisfied for days to come.

He slips his thumb between his lips, coating it with saliva before pressing it firmly against your swollen, raw clit.

The suddenness rips a loud exclamation from you, causing you to lose your rhythm as you lean forward, breathless and overwhelmed.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking with a fervor that sends sparks of pleasure shooting everywhere.

As he bends his knees, he begins to thrust into you with relentless force, driving deep with every stroke. The combined assault of his mouth, cock, and thumb is too much to bear, you’re vibrating with pleasure that borders on pain.

“J-Javi, I can’t,” you cry out, tears welling up in your eyes, the intensity threatening to break you.

But he pulls away from your chest just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with ardor, though his thrusts never falter.

“You can and you will. No llores, hermosa. You know I’m going to take care of you.”

With a desperate need to kiss him, you press your mouth to his.

It’s messy and hungry as he continues to move you on his cock like you’re his living, breathing flesh light. He grunts against your lips, driving into you forcefully.

After a few more thrusts, his hips begin to stutter, and he pulls away from your lips, his voice strained. “Fuck, gatita, where do you want it?”

You trail kisses up his neck, tasting the salt of his skin before nipping at his ear. “Inside, please. Need to feel you fill me up, Javi. Want to feel your cum drip out of my pussy.”

You know it’s a reckless decision—you’re not on birth control, and the logical part of your brain knows better. But the overwhelming need coursing through you drowns out any sense of caution.

You’ll just make him get you the morning-after pill once this fevered moment passes.

Javier growls, landing a sharp smack on your ass. “I’m right there, baby, need you to come with me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the wet sounds of his cock pounding into you, the pressure building until that final snap at your core. You practically scream in his ear as your orgasm rips through you.

He’s right behind you, his grip on your body tightening as he buries himself deep inside, flooding your cunt with his release while your name falls from his lips.

The sensation is overwhelming, the two of you melding together in a heated, panting embrace until you collapse, bodies spent, hearts pounding wildly in sync as you come down from the high.

The bliss of your shared climax begins to fade and the reality of the situation starts to settle in.

The air between you shifts, the once burning passion giving way to a different kind of tension.

You pull back slightly, your bodies still entangled but your mind racing with everything left unsaid.

Javier is the first to speak, his voice low and gravelly. “So now that we’re past that… What happens next?”

You swallow, feeling the weight of his question. You’d known this moment would come, but facing it is another matter entirely.

You take a deep breath, fingertips tracing mindlessly against his chest, gathering your thoughts before you meet his smoldering gaze.

“Javi, I—” The words stick in your throat, and you force yourself to continue. “I never thought it would go this far. I was supposed to just watch, get information… But the more I learned about you, the more I couldn’t stay away. It became more than just a job.”

He studies you, his expression unreadable, and it makes your heart race for a different reason now. “You were stalking me for weeks,” he finally says, not accusing but stating a fact.

You nod, feeling a mix of guilt and something else—relief, maybe. “I know. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But… I couldn’t help it. You’re not the man I expected. You’re more.”

His eyes soften just a fraction, the tension between you loosening. “And now that Cali has gone down? Where does that leave us?”

Your heart stutters at the use of us.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about you, and now… Now I don’t know what to do.”

Javier sighs, caressing your back “You’ve got me in one hell of a position, you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way… So don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything.” Though it pains you to admit this.

He looks at you for a long moment, and then, unexpectedly, he reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek, admiring your natural beauty. “I feel something for you, gatita. It confuses the shit out of me,” he mutters, “But… maybe we can figure all this out. Together.”

A wave of emotion washes over you, hope mixed with a little bit of fear. “You mean that?” It’s more than you could have asked for, really.

He leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not making any promises. But yeah, I’m willing to try. As long as you’re done with the secrecy.”

You nod, a small, relieved smile tugging at your lips. “No mas. I’m done with that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Then we’ll see where this goes. One step at a time.”

As he pulls you into a gentle, lingering kiss, you feel a sense of tentative hope. How the fuck did you manage to walk out of this with such an extraordinary man?

“Wait—” you pull away from him, and Javier looks at you, confused, as you struggle to regain your thoughts. “Cali’s gone down. Fuck, the press conference.” You move off his lap, wincing as his softened cock slips out of you, followed by the warm trickle of his cum slipping down your inner thighs.

Your legs are wobbly as you head toward the restroom to clean up and get dressed.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he protests, rising to follow you. You hear him grunt as he stands, his joints popping in protest.

Javier catches up to you quickly, his hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you back to him and stopping you in your tracks.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the day wrapped up in you, I have a job to do.”

“Nena,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl, “we both know that press conference is long over. Besides…” His hand slips between your thighs, making you twitch as he gathers some of the release that has seeped out of you onto his fingers.

Bringing his digits up to your lips, he offers them to you, and you narrow your gaze at him, playfully annoyed that he’s able to flip your horny switch just like that.

Slowly, you stick out your tongue, licking his fingers clean as he watches you with a smirk.

“I can give you a better story,” he whispers, his fingers lingering at your lips.

“Better than the president being bribed by narcos?”

“In the same vain, but yes, anything you want. On the record,” he replies, his voice steady, revealing a seriousness that catches you off guard. “I resigned before coming here. Got a lot of stories saved away for a rainy day.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You resigned? Why?”

“Tired of dealing with the bullshit,” he admits, his tone laced with a weariness you clocked the moment you met him.

Your mind races, a thousand questions bubbling to the surface. Each one competes for attention, your journalistic instincts kicking into overdrive. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something raw and real, that makes you pause.

“I can feel the gears turning in your head,” he murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips as he begins to gently guide you toward the bed.

You let him lead, your body moving on autopilot as your mind continues to spin.

When you reach the mattress, you sink into the soft sheets. Javier crawls in beside you, his presence warm and reassuring as he pulls the covers over both of you, even though it’s the middle of the afternoon.

“Can’t help it,” you admit, your thoughts still racing but slowing down as his familiar scent and warmth envelop you.

“I know,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. His lips trail slowly down your skin, his touch grounding you as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

The questions that had been buzzing in your mind begin to fade as you sink into the comfort of the bed and the feel of him against you.

There’s just one question that can’t wait.

“So, you’re leaving Colombia?”

He grunts against your neck, his lips still caressing your skin. “Yes.”

A pout forms on your mouth, and he immediately notices, his hand pinching your hip in response. “How are we supposed to make this work if you’re not going to be here, Javier?”

The way you use his full name makes him pause. He doesn’t like it, the distance it implies.

He pulls back, his fingers firmly gripping your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes meet his. “I was hoping you’d come with me. A little bird told me some of your work is being published stateside. What better time than now to go back?”

“A little bird, huh?” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Javier has been doing some digging of his own.

The thought of him taking such an interest in you makes your heart swell, and the smile that spreads across your face is wide and genuine.

It’s infectious, mirrored by the grin on his own handsome face.

You had only come to Bogotá to cover the Cali cartel, and with that chapter now closed thanks to him, the idea of following him back to the States seems more appealing by the second.

Navigating this intense, thrilling relationship in a new setting feels right, like the next step in whatever you two are building together.

“So, will you?” His voice is soft, feeling vulnerable for proposing such an idea this early on. “Will you come back with me, gatita?”

You gaze up at him, your heart brimming with love and desire, your decision already made. “Sí, Javi,” you whisper, your lips brushing tenderly against his. “I’ll go with you.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena narcos #javier peña fic #javier pena fic #javier peña narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 1 year ago

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up until recently i ran a pretty popular radfem blog (stay with me, this ask is in good faith) but after i took a social media detox, i realized i don’t share those beliefs anymore and in fact i might be trans myself. i just kind of abandoned the blog, but i’d feel bad if i didn’t tell my followers what happened. i’m scared of telling anyone because i feel like i’d be a bad feminist if i transitioned. (i know, you can be trans and a feminist just fine, but that’s just the kind of thing radfems tell you.) even worse, i’m scared of posting about it on my main or radfem blog because radfems and trans people by and large hate each other (obv), and i’m scared to mention i’ve been in both groups because of the hate i’ll get

Lee says:

When I first started as a mod, I would have told you that you need to immediately post on all your blogs to disown the transphobic beliefs you had previously expressed to try to make up for the harm that you may have perpetrated as a radfem.

Now that I'm a little older, my feelings on the topic have shifted a bit. Before anything else, I think you need to slow down and make sure that you ensure your own safety and mental health.

If you believe that revealing this change to your followers could result in backlash online that would affect you emotionally, it's crucial to prepare by turning off anonymous asks and muting notifications from social media apps.

You should also make sure you have a non-online place to turn for support. If they used to be your community, you may feel like you've lost online friends, so make sure you don't become too isolated. Instead, lean on your IRL connections and seek support from trans-friendly people in your community.

You may even want to consider looking for a therapist-- questioning being trans can be difficult for anyone, and adding a layer of internalized transphobia doesn't help.

When you're ready to share your feelings on your blog, you should write a thoughtful post explaining your journey. You don't have to justify your identity; rather, focus on your personal growth, how your views have evolved, and how you came to understand yourself better. Acknowledge the complexity of the situation and that you're still learning.

These people were once your buddies and there's a chance you may be able to make some of them question their beliefs too if you don't lash out at them and trigger that instinctual defensive us-versus-them mindset, so I would try to keep a friendly tone even while noting that you no longer support them.

So thank your followers for their support and engagement over the years, but tell them you aren't comfortable staying part of their community now that you've realized that the beliefs underpinning the group are doing damage and you are trying to unlearn that type of thinking.

Gently challenge any misconceptions you once held or promoted. Clarify that being trans and feminist are not mutually exclusive and that everyone deserves respect and equality, regardless of their gender identity.

If you're comfortable, share resources that helped you on your journey. This could be educational materials, support groups, books you found helpful, or contact information for trans-supportive LGBTQ+ organizations. If there's anything you'd recommend to others who were once in the same place as you were on getting out, this is the time to share your advice.

Understand that reactions will likely be mixed. Some followers may feel confused, betrayed, or angry, while others might be supportive or even share their similar experiences. Remember, you're not responsible for their reactions and you don't need to respond to them if you don't want to argue and they aren't willing to have a respectful conversation.

Be clear about your boundaries. Let your followers know what kind of comments you're willing to engage with and that hate or harassment won't be tolerated. You can even stop engaging with the account altogether if you don't think you can deal with the hate that you may receive.

You don't have to post about this immediately. Again, it's okay to take as much time as you need to feel ready. It's okay to wait until you're in a safe and stable position before making any announcements.

If you do post about it and get hate, remind yourself that you're doing the right thing by letting go of that community, and that you're not only making the right choice for your own life in allowing yourself the freedom to explore your gender identity but you're also doing the right thing overall since you're now standing up for the trans community (late is better than never!) and no longer encouraging transphobic narratives.

If you feel that your current blog is no longer a space where you can express yourself authentically, consider starting a new blog or platform where you can write freely about your experiences and beliefs. Or just get offline altogether-- your digital detox is what started this, so maybe it's healthy for you to continue it for a while!

If you tell someone "I support trans folks" and they send you hate, that person is not your friend anyway. This is an opportunity to meet nice people who you can be yourself with. I would really encourage you to connect with IRL activists who are actually regularly volunteering and doing something concrete for their community if you have the opportunity.

When I was in high school, I volunteered at my local library's teen advisory board, and when I was in college I volunteered at a local hospital and through my college. This weekend I'm starting training for volunteering in-person for my town's emergency preparedness group which also does things like help to unload trucks for the food pantry, and I also volunteer remotely for two organizations online.

I'm really pushing for you to get out and volunteer (online or IRL) because I know one draw of the radfem community is feeling like you're an activist and that you're supporting women's rights and protecting and defending women. And it is important to support women's rights and protect and defend women! But there are other ways to do that beyond running a hateful blog attacking trans women.

I have a friend who works at an organization for survivors of domestic violence, for example, and she works with volunteers who help staff events, answer the hotline, etc. You can look around and see what local initiatives there are in your community and if you can't find the thing you're looking for you can start a group yourself or look online and join a national or state-wide cause that you care about, like pushing the legislature to support access to abortions.

Giving up the radfem community doesn't mean giving up feminism, and this is a good opportunity for you to take a look at your own time, your values, and think about how you can take this chance to start working to be a more effective feminist. Not everyone has to be an activist, but if you want to be one, think about how you can start doing good in a way that will actually affect people in a positive way.

I've also often been involved in doing events like conferences and workshops and panels IRL from my time in high school to the present day to try and educate folks on the community, but I also know that sometimes you need to take a step back and prioritize yourself. If you think you're not ready to jump into making change that's also okay. Just join something. A soccer team, a book club, anything hobby-related, to have something else to do and talk about and think about and stay tethered to feeling part of something.

Remember, it's okay to grow and change. You're not betraying anyone by being true to yourself. It's a courageous step to admit when your views have changed, and it's an integral part of personal growth. Be kind to yourself during this process.

Whether or not you end up identify as trans, you still will be doing the right thing by separating yourself from that community. I know it may be difficult because they were a place where you felt supported and part of a movement, but I really believe that you're taking steps in the right direction by letting go of that ideology and just living your life!

Followers, if you have any experiences unlearning toxic beliefs please reply with your advice for anon!

#Lee says #transphobia m

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nolongerapileofashprobably · 1 year ago

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Just like how botw had small details telling us the probable ‘canonical’ route Link took (aka Zora, Rito, Goron, and then Gerudo), totk has something similar. I’m sure all players noticed that the newspapers will feature one region that is meant to direct Link to go aid the people there. First is Rito, next is Goron, third is Zora, and last is Gerudo. BUT! They also added something else.

Zelda’s role in the story. Namely, her interactions with Tulin, Yunobo, King Dorephan, and Riju. Annnnnnddd Link’s reactions to her!

Tulin’s interaction with her is one meant to confuse players: Zelda was in the past, but Tulin saw her? So she’s here in the present and we’re chasing after her. Sounds a lot like Skyward Sword, okay (which was released on the switch last year, so anyone who didn’t play it back in 2012 had another chance to). It confuses Link, but spurs him to become a journalist ? Cool, I’m here for it. I did journalism for 4 years, I’m sure Link can do it too!

Then, for Yunobo, he actively speaks to Zelda, we see her figure, and Link will actively gasp whenever we see her. He has a genuine reaction to her presence, because he’s surprised, but then we see pink gloom glow in the mask that Zelda have Yunobo and it makes him freak out land turn against Link. That’s when we start to put together that maybe Zelda is being controlled? Or she’s NOT Zelda, just as Yunobo begins to theorize but can’t quite wrap his head around it.

Next, we have King Dorephan who is actually attacked by Zelda and is injured to the point that he decides to hide from his people as to not create more chaos in this time. He chooses to give Zelda the benefit of the doubt here— he could have easily had his people turn against Hyrule and all Hylians because of Zelda’s actions. But he doesn’t! Because it simply doesn’t make sense. And by the end of the quest, Sidon comes to the conclusion that the Zelda in the past and the Zelda in the present are NOT the same.

And we see that thought truly stick with Link in a cutscene in Gerudo. After defending Kara Kara Bazaar, Zelda appears and Riju calls out for her. There is no gasp from Link like with Yunobo’s story, instead he watches Zelda with a slightly narrowed gaze and does not stop watching where she was last seen until Riju directly addresses him. They actively show the players that Link is suspicious, but he is still so very dedicated.

And it happens again, in the center of the light triangle. Zelda appears and Link begins to walk toward her, but there is no intake of breath, no shock at seeing her… instead he slowly walks until Riju calls out for him.

After Link finishes each phenomenon, going to Lookout Landing gives the players a clue in how Link is reacting. Specifically, if you speak to Buliara before going to see Purah, she says something along the lines of “Purah is up on the top deck, but don’t miss a wrung in your haste to get up there.”

Link is expected to rush. Because everyone is muttering about a figure that MIGHT be Zelda. At the castle. Right. Then. And. There.

Link GASPS when he first looks into the scope— Purah doesn’t even say it’s Zelda, not before Link sees for himself. It’s seeing her, clear as day, and even if Link KNOWS it’s not her… there’s still that seed of doubt that lives in his mind. And then at the castle, Link does twist and turn whenever he hears Zelda. He rushes after her every. Single. Time. She disappears. Despite that he knows it isn’t her, he can’t give up. He can’t. It’s quite literally not in his DNA. He sees it through; he needs to make sure it isn’t her. And it’s all a trap, one he walks right into, because he just HAS to see that it isn’t her.

And if you want to say “but Ash… this is just a recap of the storyline in the present.. not small details” let us just remember that Link’s driving motivation in this game is to find Zelda and bring her home. So many people just ignore these little moments or miss them completely.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t talk about link’s gasps or his twists and turns or his micro expressions that tell us so much about how he is feeling.

#I’m so exhausted someone please yell at me to sleep #I can’t wait to find Mineru #for a totk replay is truly good for the soul #loz tears of the kingdom spoilers #loz totk spoilers #loz totk #totk spoilers #totk zelda #totk link #totk sages #totk zelink #zelink #botw zelink #the legend of zelda

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katsukikisses · 6 months ago

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birds of a feather: chapter two [hawks x reader]

chapter summary: keigo invites you over for the first time and lets you check out his wing-keeping kit. in the process, you learn a few things about his world.

chapter tags: childhood friends; neighbors trope; alternating povs; taking care of keigo's wings as a love language.

cw: prejudice; socioeconomic differences?

prefer to read on ao3? here!

prev. chapter | table of contents | next chapter

“'Do not enter' is written on the door way, Why can't everyone just go away? Except you, you can stay, — Alex G, Treehouse

The first time Keigo invited you over, you were ecstatic.

The invite in itself was long overdue: the two of you had been friends for a year and neighbors for nearly two, so the fact that you’d never once stepped foot in his house during that period seemed like an intentional oversight. You didn’t mind always hanging out at yours’ (rather, you quite liked having Keigo inside your house), but you were insatiably curious about how your hybrid friend lived. You wanted to know what color his bedsheets were, what kind of cereal lined his pantry—everything there was to know about a person, really.

However, your parents always told you that inviting yourself over was very rude, so you never pushed. You figured there was a reason for his hesitance and eventually stopped asking “ Your place or mine? ” on the walk home from school, letting your house become the default hang-out spot. That’s why, when, on a gray, inconspicuous Tuesday, Keigo asked if you’d like to come over, you were completely caught off guard.

“Wha—?” you sputtered, suddenly having lost the ability to form sentences, “Me, over? House?”

Keigo looked pleased at the state you’d been reduced to. “Yes, you-over-house,” he mocked, “We can even us-play-video games.”

“Shut up,” you reddened. “I’m just surprised since we usually go to mine. B-but I don’t mind going to yours at all! Let’s hurry.”

You shifted your backpack higher up on your shoulders and began speed-walking down the street, leaving Keigo behind you. You didn’t want to give him the time to change his mind. The blonde snorted, but quickened his pace to match yours.

Soon, the two of you made it to your street. You took a brief moment to dash inside your own house and yell that you were going to Keigo’s—eliciting surprised Okays from your parents—before dashing back across the street to Keigo’s side. Laughing at your eagerness, he unlatched the front door and entered, leaving you to follow.

Your first impression of the Takami household was that it was similar to yours: staircase left of the foyer, living room connected to the kitchen. The similarities were to be expected, given that your houses were most likely built by the same construction company—but that was where they ended. Unlike your house, which your mother kept fastidiously white and empty, Keigo’s was full of life. The walls were painted a pretty sage green, and lined with pictures of Keigo, his mother, and an older couple you assumed were his grandparents. The windowsills were also filled with all sorts of plants and herbs, adding a welcome splash of color to the room. It was a stark contrast to the sad, blank interior of your own abode—Keigo’s house had character .

“I know it’s not as nice as yours,” Keigo apologized as he watched you take in your surroundings. “My mom insists on keeping all these dumb plants and—”

“Keigo, I love your house!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. “It’s so much prettier compared to mine. I wish Mom would let us paint our walls or keep plants, but apparently Architectural Digest says that’s not Beige Chic , or whatever.”

Keigo smiled. He knew he shouldn’t have doubted your reaction. “Okay, well once you’re done admiring my pretty house, come upstairs so I can beat you at Mario Kart.”

Your eyes flashed excitedly, immediately leaving the picture you were inspecting to follow after Keigo. “Sure you will. Hey, remind me again who’s the reigning champion?”

The blonde gave you an irritated look, but before he could retort, you were pushing past him up the stairs and into his bedroom. This was what you’d been most curious about on your walk back, and you couldn’t wait any longer to see it. Ignoring Keigo’s words of protest, you opened the door.

“Wow,” you blinked at the sight. “It’s very…angry.”

You didn’t know what you’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been… this . Keigo’s bedroom was practically devoid of anything except for Endeavor , his favorite superhero. The walls were plastered with posters of the flame hero, and a row of his figurines lined Keigo’s desk. Atop his twin-sized bed sat a small Endeavor stuffie, which smoldered at you menacingly from across the room.

You spun around to face your friend. “Keigo, I didn’t you were a fanboy!”

In the doorway of his room, Keigo flushed a red that rivaled his plumage.

“It’s not—I’m not a fanboy ,” he sputtered, “I just happen to like the show! And they always have a lot of his merch at the thrift and—you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just sit down.”

Laughing, you took a seat on the carpet and faced his XBox. “Whatever you say, fanboy .”

Keigo valiantly ignored your comment and began rifling through a box of controllers. You took this time to take in the rest of his room, which, aside from the Endeavor paraphernalia, was completely unassuming. There wasn’t much furniture other than a bed and desk, and what little else Keigo did possess was painted in dull shades of grey. The only splash of color was the green sweater he’d been wearing yesterday, now stuffed haphazardly into his drawers. Your eyes lazily followed the outline of the cabinet, until they reached the small box resting atop it.

“What’s that?” you pointed to the box curiously.

Keigo looked up from where he’d been setting up the XBox—an ancient thing he and his mom had scored at Goodwill—and spotted what you were pointing at. “Oh, that’s my wing-keeping kit.”

“Wing-keeping?”

“Yeah,” he shifted his wings, letting them catch rays from the window. The red plumes gleamed like rubies. “You didn’t think they were naturally like this, did you? This kind of exquisiteness requires serious upkeep, YN”

“Oh,” you said dumbly. The sight of Keigo’s feathers fluttering was nothing short of mesmerizing, and, for some reason, you liked that he was showing off to you. “Can I see the tools?”

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You watched as Keigo’s wings immediately came to a still, and you internally groaned. Here we go.

Over the course of your year-long friendship with Keigo, you’d come to learn a lot about the blonde. You knew that he liked superhero shows (specifically Endeavor: Legend of the Flame) and that his favorite subject was History. He could run a 7-minute mile—the fastest out of all the fourth-grade boys—and was a fiend for fried chicken. You knew that, despite being relatively popular, he didn’t really like the other kids at school, and you were probably the closest thing to a best friend that he had. And most importantly, you knew to never, ever talk about hybrids around him.

At first, you figured he was just annoyed by your questions. As the only hybrid in your class, Keigo was constantly being probed by your classmates about his wings or eye markings. He’d never ignore them, of course, always answering their queries good-naturedly—but the tight-lipped smile he wore during those interactions betrayed his agitation. As your friendship progressed and you interacted more frequently with the blonde, though, you realized it wasn’t just questions about himself that irritated Keigo—it was whenever humans talked about hybrids at all. The week your class covered Japan’s history of hybrid discrimination, Keigo had resolutely faced the window and didn’t take a single note; and whenever Endeavor fought a hybrid villain on screen, Keigo huffed and asked to skip the episode. Little incidents like those deterred you from asking any questions related to his bird appendages, and even more from inquiring about the reason behind his anger.

Thus, you’d gone an entire year avoiding discussing anything hybrid-related with him. You figured that, as with him not inviting you in, he’d eventually get over it—you were sitting in his room right now, weren’t you? Plus, he couldn’t hate humans altogether if he was friends with you. There must be a logical reason behind his behavior, you reasoned.

Except, you’d blown any chance of that happening, now that you opened your big fat mouth and asked about his wings. And the first time he invited me over, too, you bemoaned internally. You’d at least wanted to see the kitchen before you got kicked out!

“Um, sorry,” you backtracked, “I don’t know why I asked that. It’s personal, I know—sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Keigo replied, equally hesitant. He took a deep breath as if preparing himself for a daunting task. “Um, if you really want to see, I can show you. The tools, I mean.”

Your jaw nearly fell to the ground. “Really? I can see?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” he said, sounding as though it were absolutely a big deal. He walked over to his cabinet and swiped the kit off the top. You watched, disbelieving, as he made his way back to you and deposited it unceremoniously in your lap.

The first thing you registered about the kit was that it was heavy—heavier than it looked. It was constructed of smooth wood paneling and about the size of a book, with no indication of what resided within it save for a small feather engraved on the top, and perhaps the faint smell of essential oils emitting from it Your fingers fluttered over the ridges of the box, and, with one final seeking glance at Keigo, you lifted the lid off the top.

As the smell suggested, the inside of the kit was lined with various vials of oil, each labeled something different. Laying next to the oils, their sharp edges cushioned by the velvet interior, was a collection of tools: shears of various sizes as well as several brushes and clippers. They glinted menacingly in the afternoon light, causing you to reign in a shudder; you couldn’t imagine using tools like that on your own body.

Keigo watched your expression carefully. “I have to trim and condition my feathers about every two weeks,” he explained, “Or else they’ll get tangled and torn.”

“I didn’t realize they required so much attention,” you tore your gaze away from the box and faced him. And, for the second time that day, your mouth moved before your brain. “Can you show me? How you do it?”

“…Sure,” he said after a momentary pause, looking faintly bemused. “It’s been a while since I last trimmed them, anyway.”

He began picking out various tools and oils from the box. You leaned forward, eager to see which ones he chose. When it came to Keigo, it was like you could never know enough.

He lined the three oils he’d grabbed—labeled “primaries”, “secondaries”, and “contour”, respectively—on the floor. “The different oils are for different parts of my wings,” he said, extending out his left wing as he spoke. “My primary feathers are these long feathers out here, and the inner ones are called secondaries. And these are my contour feathers, which make me more aerodynamic—they help me fly better, basically,” he amended, noticing your blank stare. “But before I do that, I have to trim them.”

As he finished his explanation, he removed a large tablecloth from the bottom of the kit and unfolded it on the floor. He picked up one of the shears he’d taken out earlier and began trimming off the edges of his wings. Red tufts fluttered to the floor, like autumn leaves shaken out of a tree. You stared, enthralled, before his earlier words registered in your mind.

“Wait, fly? I thought you weren’t…allowed to,” you trailed off, realizing you were approaching dangerous territory. Hybrid Limitations were one of the most contentious topics in Japan, and you figured that Keigo, as an avian hybrid, would have his share of thoughts on it.

Instead of becoming upset, though, he merely shook his head. “I’m not,” he confirmed. His words were punctuated by the steady snip of shears coming down around another feather. “This kit was passed down to me from my grandfather, and during his time there weren’t restrictions on winged hybrids. So it still contains flight-care stuff.”

“Oh,” you said, “Do you wish you could fly?”

Keigo peered at you through the folds of his wing. Randomly, you were struck by the memory of the first time he came to your house; cold and wet, focused on drying off his wings while you chattered annoyingly at him.

“Maybe,” he set down the shears and picked up one of the vials of oil. Surprised, you realized he was already done with trimming. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get to, though.”

Keigo gave his wings a firm ruffle, shaking off any lingering feather trimmings. Then, he poured a small bit of oil into his palms and began carding them gently through his longest feathers—the primaries, you recalled. You watched in silence as he worked down his wing, coating each plume in a thin layer of oil. Usually when Keigo was focused on something, he had a look of intense concentration on his face: brows pinched, eyes narrowed. Yet, now, his expression was relaxed and peaceful—this must be calming for him.

As he got closer to his inner feathers, though, he had to strain his neck to oil them properly, and his tranquil expression dissolved into a more concentrated one. “My mom usually helps me with the back,” he explained, sounding slightly frustrated, “It’s harder for me to see back there and—”

“I can help you,” you said. Keigo’s hands stilled in his wings, and you wondered a bit too late if your offer had been inappropriate. But you’d already breached all sorts of boundaries today, so what was one more?

Keigo cleared his throat. “Um, sure. Come, uh—come closer.”

“Okay,” you shuffled over to behind him. “Um, what do I…”

“Grab the oil labeled ‘secondaries’.”

“Okay.”

“Pour a little into your hands—yeah, that’s good. And let it heat up a bit in your palms.”

“Okay.”

“Now, you see the feathers at the bottom of my wings? The shorter ones.”

“Yeah.”

“Work the oil into them, from the root to the ends.”

“Okay,” you gulped. Your hands, covered in a sharp-smelling oil, shook as you reached toward the feathers. I have to do this right , you thought determinedly—you couldn’t bear it if you accidentally hurt Keigo.

Slowly, you grabbed the outermost feather and began working the oil into it. If your own hands hadn’t been shaking so badly, you might’ve noticed the way Keigo’s wings shuddered, too.

After you got through the first few feathers without doing any damage—and leaving Keigo content, seemingly—you became more confident in your abilities. Your movements were more fluid, and your shoulders untensed—you could see why your friend found this relaxing.

Once you finished the secondaries, you moved on to the last section: his contour feathers. You picked up the appropriately labeled oil and found that it was much fuller than the other two. Recalling what he said about not being able to fly, you sadly realized that those feathers probably didn’t get as much use as his other ones, therefore needing less maintenance. With newfound vigor, you uncapped the vial and poured a generous amount into your palms.

“I hope,” you began, “That you get a lot of use out of this oil one day.”

“I hope not,” Keigo replied, “That’s the most expensive one.”

(He knew what you meant, though.)

It was rare for Takami Toomie to see her house during the day.

Well, it was nearing evening, technically, but sunlight was sunlight. Between her job at the restaurant, the hospital, and…the other one, she’d practically become a vampire—she couldn’t remember the last time she came home before midnight. But today all the stars had aligned perfectly: her coworker had agreed to cover her shift, the hospital hadn’t called her in, and—best of all—the fried chicken ordered from their restaurant never got picked up, leaving it up for grabs.

Toomie recalled staring at the steaming bucket of chicken for the entire pick-up hour, and then snatching it up as soon as time was up. She’d flushed when her coworkers saw her shove the food into her bag, but their judgment would be nothing compared to the joy of seeing Keigo smile—something that happened too infrequently for Toomie’s liking. Though, it's not exactly like I encourage him to be more carefree...

Shaking off her guilt, Tookie pushed through the front door of her home. She smiled at the sight of rays filtering in through the window and meandered over to the kitchen, where she set down the bucket. A glance at the clock told her that Keigo was already back at school, and her smile widened. They could eat together!

She grabbed her phone from her bag and began searching for the LNs contact. She assumed Keigo was with them, considering he slept over practically every day now. It was a development she tried not to be too bothered by, as she knew it was lonely for him here. Still, she couldn’t help but be wary of the situation. YN seemed like a sweet kid, on the few occasions she’d met them, but one could never be sure…

She sighed as finally found the contact. Keigo would be a little upset at being called back early, she figured, but his disappointment would definitely disappear as soon as he saw the chicken. Plus, the two of them hadn’t had dinner together in forever. Reaffirmed in her decision, Toomie made to hit Call on the contact—but just as her finger was about to tap the screen, she heard the faintest sounds of conversation emanating from upstairs.

Toomie paused. It sounded like two kids...did Keigo have a friend over? Curiously, she made her way to the stairwell and strained to listen, wings shifting nervously behind her. Keigo never told her that he was bringing someone over, and he wasn’t the type to sneak around behind her back, either. Immediately, terrible thoughts filled her head. What if someone had followed Keigo home and they were hurting him upstairs? Or what if someone had broken in and were robbing them? Panicked, she dropped her phone and sprinted up the stairs, wings flapping madly behind her. They ached from disuse, but she didn’t even register the pain. Her only thoughts were Keigo, Keigo, Keigo.

She threw open his bedroom door, and the sight that greeted her was more horrible than any robbery or bullying. Keigo was sitting on the floor, wings spread out to their maximum length, while you kneeled behind him, gently carding oil through his inner-most feathers. Next to you was Keigo’s wing-keeping kit—a gift from his grandfather, her father —with various tools and vials spilling out of it. Everything was out in the open for you to see.

At the sound of the door hitting the wall, Keigo turned around. “Mom?” his eyes widened. “When did you get back?”

“Just now,” she replied, her eyes flitting between the two of you. “You didn’t tell me you were having guests over, Keigo.”

Hearing this, you sheepishly stood and bowed to her. Your hands, still covered in oil, hung awkwardly in the hair.

“I’m sorry for coming over uninvited, Takami-san,” you apologized, “I should’ve had my parents call you.”

At the sight of your nervousness, Toomie’s agitation subsided. “It’s alright, YN-chan,” she said, attempting a kind tone. But her day had been long and she’d worked the night shift beforehand and—she just wanted to have dinner with her son. “I’m just surprised, is all. Plus, it’s Keigo who should’ve said something.”

She turned her attention back to her son. “You need to tell me when you have hu—people over, Kei.”

She barely managed to cover her slip-up. Keigo raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

“Well, I didn’t know you were even going to see them, since you don’t usually get back until later. Why are you back this early anyway?”

Toomie groaned internally. Wasn’t he a little young for the rebellious stage? “I got off work early,” she said tightly, “And I thought we could have dinner toge—”

“Is that chicken?” Keigo cut her off, finally registering the mouth-watering smell wafting from the kitchen. His wings, freshly clipped and conditioned, raised excitedly. Toomie couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Oh, well then I should probably go,” you said awkwardly, wiping your oil-covered hands off on your school uniform. Toomie wished she could’ve told you to not do that, as wing-keeping oils were notoriously difficult to get out of clothes—your skirt would permanently have greasy handprints on them now. But before she could say something, you were nimbly sliding past her in the doorway and into the hall.

“Please enjoy your dinner!” you smiled at the two of them.

Keigo jumped up from his spot on the floor and ran after you. “Wait, YN,” he said, “Don’t go yet.”

He glanced briefly at his mother, asking her an unspoken question. But the woman was looking at you, still wringing your hands awkwardly in the hallway.

Toomie exhaled softly through her nose. After all those free dinners they gave Keigo, she thought miserably, Practically every day of the year…how could I even come close to repaying them?

“Yes, YN-chan, we would love for you stay for dinner,” she lied, “Do you like fried chicken?”

Your eyes practically sparkled as you thanked her excitedly, assuring her that, yes, you loved fried chicken. As the three of you made your way down the stairs, Keigo pulling you by the wrist, Toomie couldn’t help but mourn her lost dinner. The bucket was a share-size, yet with how much Keigo ate, he could probably put away the entire thing—it had been a stretch for the two of them to share, much less three people. Looks like you and Keigo would be enjoying an adult-free dinner, tonight. Toomie sighed, resigning herself to a trip to the konbini. She’d refrained from snacking on kitchen scraps and sent-back meals as she usually did during her shift, not wanting to spoil her appetite, and this was what she got. Honestly, with her evening plans now canceled, she might just head back to work—clearly, she could use the extra money.

Toomie watched as Keigo tugged you into the kitchen and began pulling plates and silverware out of the drawers. She wondered how she could gracefully bow out of the dinner—kids didn’t really think too hard about those sorts of interactions, but she also didn’t want you to report back to your parents that Toomie didn’t bother spending any time with you. She was already going to be the mom who brought back a bucket of fried chicken as dinner, for God’s sake.

Still ruminating over her dilemma, Toomie didn’t notice you seemingly lost in your own thoughts. Even as Keigo set the dinner table—for three people, the little idealist—you remained standing, simply staring at the bucket.

“Actually, Keigo-kun, Takami-san,” you started, spinning around to face them, “I have a good idea! My parents are having yakisoba tonight, along with some other vegetables. Fried chicken goes great with yakisoba, doesn’t it? We should take it over to my house and eat together! My mom’s always asking you to come over anyways, Takami-san.”

You finished with a bright grin on your face. Toomie only blinked in response.

(Perhaps you deserved a little more credit than she gave you.)

“That’s really nice of you to offer, dear. I think we’ll take you up on that.” Toomie managed. From across the kitchen, Keigo gaped at her—she knew he’d expected her to decline. “You’re too kind, YN-chan.”

You, too, seemed shocked that Toomie actually accepted—a deserved reaction, considering the amount of times she’d turned down your family’s invitations in the past. But you recovered quickly, your blinding grin overtaking your face once more.

“It’s my pleasure,” you said brightly. You picked up the bucket of chicken and started out the door, suddenly heading the whole operation. “I hope we can eat before the sun sets!”

Keigo hurriedly shoved the plates back into the drawers and dashed after you, calling for you to wait for him. Toomie smiled at the sight, before sighing again and walking over to the fridge. She began rifling through its contents—some leftovers from work, a pack of expired beer—in hopes of dredging up a side dish. Impromptu as this dinner was, she couldn’t be so pathetic as to only show up with cold fried chicken.

Yet, even as Toomie peered into her frighteningly empty fridge, she couldn’t help but feel content with the outcome of her evening. Absolutely nothing about it had gone to plan—but Keigo was smiling, wasn’t he?

Maybe YN would be good for them, Toomie admitted.

Next Chapter (

author's note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I'm sorry it took so long to come out. This chapter explores more of Keigo's life since the first chapter was very reader-focused, but Toomie's also able to give us an outsider's perspective on YN. I think due to having very present and communicative parents she's become emotionally intelligent at a young age (which I see in a lot of the kids at the private school I work at lol); however, a lot of the practical application still depends on socializing with kids her age and besides Keigo she doesn't have a lot of practice with that…but we'll see more in the coming chapters 🫣🫣

Thanks for reading and I can't wait to see you guys in the next chapter!

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