#also once again: these are just my opinions and you don't have to agree if you don't want to haha
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I must have done something wrong because thid popped up on my for you page:
And like... That's such an dishonest take because I'm pretty sure that's not the case. Most issues people have with Dream is because he is a dick and people call it out. Just because the person he was dickhead to dedicate to not make it a big deal it doesn't mean it's a none issue. Like if you hear that someone did something like that you can say "huh I don't want to be around this guy" or simply start to dislike him.
Also Dream liking the post really shows his character once again because he is essential agreed that this way of thinking is correct. No wonder his stans are so toxic if that's what is see as positive in their fandom.
Also considering the drama he just had... It was definitely not just people being offended on others behalf. This guy just can't take any opinion that is not positive about him.
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Sorry but am I the only one that thought that episode…sucked? Like it was straight up bad. Horrible pacing, no wrap up of all the random characters and plot lines they’ve thrown around all season (the tuskegee airmen, Westgates spying, literally all the guys beside like the main 4). (Seriously it makes me so mad that the three redtails got all of 5 seconds of screen time, almost no lines. Literally what was the point of introducing them other than to pretend the show was iNcLuSiVe) Even at the end of BoB and the Pacific you get a much better idea of what happened to all the remaining guys. In this they’re like what happened to DeMarco or Hambone or Brady or (insert character here) we don’t know! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ The concentration camp scene felt shoehorned in compared to how it was done in BoB. Unless that actually happened to Rosie (which i haven’t heard anything about) but it was just like.. ok? It all felt so rushed and emotionless to me. Maybe I’ve just fallen out of love with MoTA but it’s been downhill for me since episode 6 or so.
i already made a little (read: long) post-finale write-up here, where i talk about the use of the tuskegee airmen, l'sandra, and overall editing/pacing issues i felt the show had. but i don't agree with the notion that adding the redtails was in any way insincere or trying to halfass being "iNcLuSiVe", i just think they suffer from this show's obvious time constraints. and to summarize what i wrote in my linked post, there's a limit to what white writers/directors/producers can do when creating a story about black people. there are some stories i'd feel uncomfortable with them telling on their own, truth be told. dee rees wasn't the sole nonwhite director, but she Was the only black one. i think she did her job well given the limitations and i appreciate that they let her direct those episodes, rather than leaving it up to a team of white people trying their best to tell a black story.
the worst i can say about the finale is that it didn't feel like That strong of finale, tho i wouldn't go as far to say it "sucked" or call it "straight up bad". i liked it plenty, it's just the weakest of the hbo war finales imo.
as for the concentration camp scene, artistic license was taken with both shows. unlike what's seen in the BoB, easy company wasn't the first to arrive at kaufering, and there's 0 mention of the all-japanese american 552nd who helped them liberate it). similarly, rosie rosenthal did assist in liberating those camps, though it would've been after the events shown this episode. idk if he saw one in that up-close way seen in this episode, but he could've (i should research this when i have time). plus, it would've felt weird Not having him acknowledge them at all. "shoe-horned" is an odd term to use here imo, as both scenes more-or-less center a jewish character (BoB's liebgott and MotA's rosie). the former show has survivors the characters can help, the latter shows no one left to help. the former has all of easy company there, the latter has rosie there all alone. rosie's scene felt deeply personal in that way. at the end of the day, both scenes are communicating different things. that doesn't make one better than the other when they aren't trying to be identical. (disclaimer, i'm not jewish, so i'd be interesting hearing from the perspective of someone who wrt whether or not they felt it was "shoe-horned")
i can understand if you've disliked the show post-episode 6 (and episode 6 was a very strong episode i'm ngl). eps 7 and 8 were weaker in many ways, even to me, so i get it. everyone's entitled to their own opinion (i'd be a hypocrite saying otherwise). just understand that this blog is run by someone who overall enjoys this show despite its flaws! basically, i encourage you to take this energy and make your own posts.
#masters of the air#hbo war#e9#asks#long post#masters of the air spoilers#mota spoilers#all the hbo war finales are different. i don't think MotA's is as strong but like#my fav hbo war show is still BoB and even Then i don't think it has a better finale than TP. and i dislike a lot of TP! like A Lot!#and Even Then we don't get a good idea about what happens to a lot of the minor-er characters in TP once they leave#anyone who isn't sledge or leckie (rip basilone) is hand-waved-'they went home'-away#not every show needs a sandlot ending w/ a voiceover going:#'[NAME] got really into the [INSERT DECADE] and no one ever saw him again' like they did to webster (rip webster)#and again! i'm mixed about the redtails. but i can Very Clearly See this show getting released without including them#which wouldve left many people (justifiably!) upset that they weren't shown when they were Literally there in the same pow camp#i'll give the hbo war team a lot of shit about a lot of things (despite the enduringly positive energy i try to keep up here)#but i Have to give MotA props for Trying. i don't see faux inclusion i just see it as not quite hitting the mark but an attempt was made#and i think that's worth Something given neither BoB or TP bothered trying#(like i think there was a missed opportunity in TP not mentioning what's happening to japanese americans on the home front)#this got away from me (i'm also opinionated) but while i can agree with you about how the show feels rushed#i do take issue with the idea that they were pretending to be inclusive. i'll blame money time and covid19 before i blame bad intention#maybe that's controversial here but it Is my blog. so.
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omegaverse 141
a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂
cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned
previous
In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.
"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.
You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.
"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"
You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.
"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"
You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.
He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.
The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.
Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."
"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"
"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."
Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."
You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"
Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.
"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.
"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."
And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.
You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.
next
#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#omegaverse#omegaverse 141#omegaverse tf 141#a/b/o#a/b/o 141#a/b/o tf 141#john price#kyle garrick#johnny mactavish#simon riley#nerdygirl says
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A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer
Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I
There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.
I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.
I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!
If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.
If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.
I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.
It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.
If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.
He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.
Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.
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it's so strange when you are an artist or creator that makes art and also deal with being marginalized in one or many ways. people, especially people you've never met, will try their hardest to ruin your life purely out of spite and justify doing it for many reasons. the more I get older and think about what happened to me, the more I go "yeah this was unjustified in my opinion I think???"
I agree I did not need a big platform when I was a teen yes, I did stupid shit yes! but honestly the way people behaved towards me when I was a 15-19 yrs old was gross and I don't care how much they argue that it was right.
they hide it as criticism, and then the criticism in question is calling my transfem friends transmisognistic slurs or being bigoted to me in some way. it's not criticism it's hanging onto past drama and my identity as an attempt to trigger me into having a suicidal mental breakdown. it's not working because I once again have a slightly better support network.
there's so much misinformation about me too along with having my identities and disorders picked apart like ok! there's a point where you gotta realize that there's a clear difference between holding accountability and just pushing someone to their breaking point + dehumanization.
it's why I kinda don't give a single fuck anymore and hold my ground because I don't owe these people shit for doing this to me for years. me and my system don't. maybe stop being parasocial with someone you don't know and realize you contributed to bullying someone one way or another, but you won't because you'd realize that you did something bad and will heavily internalize it. I don't forgive any of you btw or want your forgiveness. I will keep drawing and healing.
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 7
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away.
But…nothing of that sort had happened.
“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.
Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then.
Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.
And they didn’t fight. About anything.
It was...weird.
She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened.
He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment.
Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…
She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.
Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.
Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.
He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her.
And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer.
Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.
She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.
And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.
They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.
It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...
And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.
But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe.
It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
And if Azriel was there…well.
The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.
Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness.
He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.
But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.
After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.
She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.
He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.
He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.
Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..
Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.
It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.
Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.
Being with him was so easy.
So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.
That was probably the most startling thing.
Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.
“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.
She hummed in answer.
“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.
“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”
Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.
Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book?
“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”
Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.
She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.
Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."
“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh.
“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her.
Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph.
But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta.
So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book.
Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.
Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."
Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.
“You are very welcome,” she said simply.
He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.
***
“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.
Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch.
"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around.
It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.
If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.
"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.
Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn.
Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.
"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.
Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.
Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now."
Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.
Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.
Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.
Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.
Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.
Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy.
Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.
Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.
Just for Sky.
Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.
And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.
Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.
"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.
"No, thank you. Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.
"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.
"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.
"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.
Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.
Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.
"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.
"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.
"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him.
"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.
"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.
Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.
Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.
He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.
Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well?
Apparently Azriel was.
*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.
Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want.
But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*
Maybe in another life. But not in this one.
*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.
Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.
*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.
He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions.
*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.
And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.
The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.
Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.
He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult.
*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*
It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.
But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.
He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.
Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.
Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor. Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.
Sky mattered.
Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows.
Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky.
"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.
Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.
He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.
"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.
"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.
Cassian sighed. "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.
Huh.
It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.
How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?
Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.
And he did love her. So fucking much.
It was so easy to be with her. So easy.
Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.
She even accepted the shadows.
Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.
She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.
It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.
And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.
But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.
It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.
He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy.
And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.
Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation.
He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.
Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.
Thank the cauldron for that.
Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…
“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.
“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon.
Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta.
Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.
He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.
“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.
“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.
"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."
“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."
“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.
“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."
“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”
Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel.
Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.
“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.
“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”
“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.
"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…
“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.”
He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment.
For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up.
“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.
“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed.
Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.
“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.”
Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."
Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”
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pervy boyfriends
bllk boys who would –in my humble opinion– be pretty pervy towards their s/o.
Shidou, Isagi, Karasu headcanons (low-key nsfw), i tried to be gender neutral but maybe it’s a bit more catered towards afab/fem reader for the Isagi part.
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Shidou:
Let’s stats by the most obvious of em all
He is OPENLY and PROUDLY an OFFICIAL PERV
Let’s call it as it is
We haven't seen him talk about lovers canonly yet but i feel like he’d be a monster
This man is ALWAYS making dirty jokes to you
About you mostly
Oh and public or not, he doesn't care, he if thought of something, you best believe he gon say it, regardless of whether your dad is around.
He takes a sick pleasure in exposing your kinks to the whole word, especially ones you’ve told him you’re embarrassed about
He likes it specifically when he says something in a public setting just loud enough so you will never know for sure if people heard him or not
Likes does his team’s goalkeeper know that you like being choked or not ?? You will never be sure ! (And it's not like you're gonna ask him)
You never really heard it for yourself but you’re quite sure he talks about your sex life to his friends
Cause multiple times they came up to you and made a joke that was suspiciously real
“haha Y/N did you have a cat attack your boyfriend’s back ??” “Y/N can you help me out for next week’s anime convention ? I heard you’re quite good at cosplaying”
You even received a leash from a secret santa (you don't have a dog ???)
You’ve tried to ask him about it once, he jokingly said yes, so you never sure he actually meant it
But you’re scared that if you ask too much he gon make it worse.
Mind you Shidou is not just an asshole that crosses your boundaries. You had actually told him you were actually kinda into people low key knowing you’re a freak. But you could never say it yourself. So he’s actually nice and thoughtful to his s/o here.
So yah let's say Shidou is not ashamed to explain to people what his position he likes you in
Also it’s almost obvious atp but he likes dirty talking in uncomfy places cause he knows it takes you very little to get you started, so he’s there getting you horny in the middle of applebees like…
He likes telling you all the things he’d do to you once you're back home.
He also often shares the details of how hard he was in the shower this morning thinking about you and how he chose to wait until you guys could do it cause he felt it would be a shame to waste his “precious cum” (his words) anywhere but “your pretty body” (again his words).
So as I said, certified unashamed pervy boyfriend.
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Isagi:
Now I think this would be an unpopular opinion because everyone and their dad headcanons Isagi as “a sweet caring innocent boyfriend 🥺” and while I agree that is true, he is multifaceted to me.
To me, he would also be extremely pervy to his s/o, but unbeknownst to them.
Like the minute you’re turning your back to him, he’s staring fouly at your ass
If you bend down to grab sum, he will not bother to look under your skirt that lifts up or your exposed cleavage.
But again, he will only do it when he knows you can’t see him.
He likes watching you doing the most innocent things and adding a double meaning to it in his head
Like you eating a skewer will be something far more dirty in his mind and you whining at the antiseptic on your wound is, in another setting, something way sexier.
So everytime you see him smile at casual things you do, like getting on your knees to tie your shoelaces, you think wow he loves me so much, but truth is yes he loves you that much, actually way more.
Isagi will always make the most far fetched double entendres to you, knowing damn well you’re too innocent and maybe head in the clouds to ever get it
So he says it, sees you agree mindlessly, and smiles to himself.
I’m telling you he’s an undercover perv.
Some of his dirty minded friends that have, they too, experience in that field, will sometimes get these double meanings he tells you and chuckle at his reaction to your non reaction.
Unlike you, THEY know he’s toying with you and tbf they also find it quite cute
Isagi is not the type to put out all your sex life to his friends tho. But sometimes, just sometimes, he will (again) make innuendos about things you’re good at, like doing or like receiving.
But again, when he says it it's with a straight face.
So his friends are never sure that he actually did mean what he said or if that innuendo was a pure coincidence.
He just smiles smugly to himself
Also final addition: he knows your weak spots and he plays witit.
Like he knows you're quite sensitive so he purposefully places the coffee grounds on the top shelf to see you struggle, have you jump around to see it jiggle, watch your shirt lift up and inevitably come to your help by grabbing said item from behind, basically squeezing you between him and the counter, pressing his dick into your ass, knowing damn well that’s enough to have you blush and moan.
But as always, you just think to yourself that he's so nice to help you, and you're so sensitive for reacting to a simple thing.
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Karasu:
let’s not forget about this pretty boy cause i feel we ALL know he can be so pervy…
To me, this boy is always, ALWAYS touching you
He alwaysss has a hand on you like at all times TT
Saying hello ? Good morning kiss
He tries to find you in public ? When he sees you he’s gonna make himself known by laying a hand on your hip
He won a match ? You know already he’ll grab your ass when he finds you.
He does not care about decency or whatever that social construct is:
If he wants to feel you up, he will.
Don’t care if his teammates are taunting him, if your friends are here, if a camera is filming
He likes the feeling of your skin on his, knowing you’re real cause he can feel it, feel the friction and the heat
And he also likes knowing you’ll always be available for him, lending him a kiss whenever he asks for one
He should know by now you're never gonna say no, cause you love him so much, but he’s always looking to be reassured that you are his.
So with Karasu, it does not stop at hand holding when you're going out
More like, hand holding, stroking your ass, kissing you passionately then placing his hand on your chin, smiling and walking again like normal until five meters further he wants to feel your waist.
Mind you you tried to tell him this was not socially okay, being so explicit on PDA. His answer ?
Says who ? It’s not like people don't know where to be together. I dont think I'm breaking news to them that we get physical if I kiss you in public.
“Babe, this is not about the kiss on my cheeks in public. I’m talking about you stretching my shirt collar to look at my cleavage while you’re on half time and a whole literal stadium is looking at you”.
“What, you want to keep it a secret that I smack you ass naked when I win ?” “Well yeah that's kinda exactly what i'm saying” “Useless to bother hiding, they must know already”
BUT THEY KNOW CAUSE HE WON’T STOP BEING SO HIGH KEY IN PUBLIC.
So yeah when I say he’s a perv I mean he won’t bother to wait till behind closed doors. He will whisper in your hearts while grabbing your waist from behind no matter if you are in the middle of ordering coffee.
At least you’re sue he loves you and won’t mind letting others know
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A/N: yayyy this came up to me as i was falling asleep, Isagi staring relentlessly as your ass the second you turn around and then thought yeah he'd defo not be the only pervy bf in bllk. Hope u like it~~ still have many more things to write.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#blue lock headcanons#bluelock#bllk x reader#blue lock imagines#isagi x reader#isagi x y/n#isagi yoichi x reader#blue lock isagi#isagi yoichi#isagi yoichi imagine#shidou ryuusei imagine#shidou ryuusei x reader#shidou#shidou ryusei#shidou x reader#bllk shidou#blue lock karasu#karasu tabito#karasu x reader#karasu imagine#karasu tabito imagine
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final part. bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers
thank you for all the kind words on this series!! fell in love with writing again and the support really helps me stay motivated! hit up my requests to lmk what else ya'll might wanna read from me!
warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI
details. nsfw / semi-public sex / safe sex! / m. first time / implied exp. reader / f. receiving oral / almost m. oral / mentioned handjobs / time skip / tsukki has horrible stamina / tsukki figuring out condoms / tsukki needing his glasses / needyshima / 3.5k
🤍 kei series. part one -- four here
more links. my ao3, my other stuff. request box
"What? You don't have to do that!"
Honored that the team as a unanimous entity agreed that you shouldn't clean and lock up the gym yourself, you blinked away the unexpected backlash.
You turned to Daichi, unable to buck up the courage to address everyone, "It's really not a big deal. You guys need to rest before this thing, I want all of you to get home as soon as you can."
He turned it over in his head a few times, looking to Suga for a second opinion, while most others insisted that they didn't want you staying longer.
They all had their personal reasons. Most were only doing it to be polite, but there were also a number of idiots that wanted to train for much longer than they should be allowed to.
Logic won out and soon you were twirling the keys around your finger, waving goodbye to the most disheartened Hinata you'd ever seen.
"You can come out," You called to Tsukishima after securing the closed doors.
He blended right out of the crowd earlier, sneaking off to the gym closet before anyone noticed his absence. It was pretty impressive how he managed to go so overlooked at his height.
From the clacking and banging that ensued beyond the closet entrance, you could only imagine he must've buried himself under some tricky supplies to remain hidden.
These desperate measures weren't commonplace; your parents were gone often, so most of the risque endeavors were kept to your bed. You made the mistake of going to his house only once, and thankfully were (mostly) clothed when his brother barged in.
When you approached, he was kicking a bucket off of his foot with the grumpiest frown on his face. It only deepened as you laughed at him.
"Ooh, was that tough?" You teased, taking his attitude-stricken face in your hands.
He rolled his eyes and let you pepper him with a few quick kisses.
"It was your idea," You reminded him, trying to make him maintain eye contact.
Neither of your homes had been a good option to see each other in lately. For a week, it was just studying together in public spaces. Though the normalcy was nice, you were both itching after the end of every practice to really 'see' each other.
His eyes flickered to match your gaze, but it was gone in an instant because he stole your lips for a gentle, long-awaited kiss. His body melted into yours, features relaxed when you pulled away.
He let you pull him back deeper into the closet, but not without some payment in return. It wasn't exactly a sexy place to be.
"This is-," You said between rushed, indecent kisses, "Pretty exciting," Your hand caught on a pile of heavy gymnastics mats to catch yourself from his clumsy pushing, "Isn't it?"
The presence of the mat did give him some ideas. Maybe it wasn't so bad.
With a bit of tantalizing force, he picked you up and smushed you against the only bare wall in the closet. Your tummy tightened and you locked around him with an uncontrollable moan.
There were a lot of things he thought to say, but didn't dare ruin how hot that was with his, at the worst of times, mood-ruining comments.
You nonverbally thanked him with a roll of your hips on his strained cock and a bold tongue against his own. He felt heavier on you, clawing at your ass under your shorts, a low groan just barely tangible against your mouth.
His tendency to get lost in these small things held the romantic in you captive- while also tending to your more animalistic impulses.
He just wanted more and more of you, and couldn't ever get enough.
It was because of this that you found it so difficult to wriggle out of his grasp, even though it was clear you were trying to take your shirt off.
You chuckled at his uncoordinated grabbing, nuzzling against your hair, and eventual drop to his knees when you unclipped your bra.
On his way down, he removed his soaked shirt off and cast it aside.
From this height he could offer his hands and mouth much easier. He never envied shorter men until he started getting neck pain from kissing you all the time.
His hands took up so much of your chest it looked a bit funny to you. At least for a moment. He pressed the flat of his tongue to a sensitive bud and sighed some preoccupied satisfaction through his nose when he sucked a kiss to the other.
His eyes were fierce and hard to look at when he was ever beneath you, it always sent a chill down your spine.
You bit back many a-sound to not let it all go to his ego too quickly. Despite this, he felt your excitement through your rapid, uneven breathing and relished in it anyway.
The imaginative idea of being on his knees was new to you-- and it gave you a good opportunity to introduce a growing interest of yours.
He was of course grumpy to be directed back up to stand.
It came out mostly in the form of his arms catching you before you could replace him on the floor.
"What- What are you doing?" His cool demeanor failed horribly.
You craved to see the way he got all huffy and sensitive again at your touch. The furthest you'd gotten so far regarding his pleasure were two brief hand jobs.
A gentle, yet firm rub of your palm on his clothed erection eased his doubt. His hold twitched into something softer and his chest puffed out.
"Relax, Tsukki," You cooed with a small peck to his jaw, "I just wanna try something."
He had horrible stamina, it felt quite complimentary to your abilities. You wanted to see how long he'd last when you were actually trying. He slowly allowed you the freedom to drop down to your knees.
There was just one problem.
He was so far away in this position. Not even just his head, which really did look like it was a mile up- but his hips were not where they needed to be.
His legs took up so much of his height, you were shocked to just now be noticing.
Confused, yet determined to make this work, you tugged on him.
"I'm... not squatting," Tsukishima bit back the humor bubbling beneath the surface just for you.
He watched you glance around the room for anything to put under your knees. A bit disinterested in finishing too quickly, he didn't allow you much time to think beyond a few more unproductive seconds.
"Probably for the best," He muttered, brought you up to stand, and glanced over your impossibly cute disappointment, "'M too sweaty for that."
It was a fair reason to be hesitant, but did nothing to ease your dismay. It was short-lived though, because his fingers flitting over your ribs gave a new intensity to your better-hidden desire.
He stepped between your legs and leaned forward, forcing you to take a stumbly step back. The back of your knees hit the heavy stack of training mats and left you no option but to sit.
For all you knew, his excuse could've been a clever cover-up to get to his preferred method of foreplay.
If there was anything he picked up the best from your weeks of scattered and fervent physical rendezvous, it was eating you out. The pride of making you cum on his tongue completely consumed him for the days following.
It was so strong at practice that Kageyama would often identify his newfound, difficult confidence in a series of angry disputes.
"You should lay down," Heavy-lidded eyes flickered over that validating look on your face that told him you just couldn't wait to be under his skilled tongue.
You fell into a rhythm whenever his courage found him again; once he believed he was good at something, he put 100% of his effort into it. This was, to your delight, one of those lucky instances.
Warm, wet, rushed kisses over your tummy preceded the skilled and subtle slide of your shorts and panties to the floor.
He knew what you liked. A rough grip around your thighs and a gentle, teasing kiss over your sex.
"So wetalready," He mumbled against you, prepping you for that addictive slide of his tongue from your entrance to your clit.
"A-ah," You failed to bite back a broken sound.
A combination of embarrassment to eclipsing pleasure left your thighs flexing against his grasp.
At the foreign feeling of something a bit hard, a bit uncomfortable, you realized--
"You're-- mmn-, glasses," You tried to communicate.
Completely deaf and unconcerned with the process or any words that didn't express how good he felt, he let your shaky, clumsy hand remove them.
He knew how to be just cocky enough to make you squirm. This gentle, endearing action inspired him to start swirling some soft circles around your clit.
"God," You choked, "That's soo fucking good..."
You rested them next to you and opted for your fingers in his fluffy blond hair.
It did help him, though. He felt them getting a bit crooked when he started, but didn't want to let you go and interrupt his flow. Now he could lean more freely.
Another rough kiss and your body curled in response- he kept your thighs, despite their straining, where he wanted them.
"Mm-!" You whined at his strength and tenderness all at once. Your mind couldn't help but wonder how that translated to his cock.
It must've been tough, since most of your bedroom activities centered around making out, eating you out once he fell in love with it, and the couple of times you made him cum with just your hand in record time.
Little to your knowledge, he was committing your visits to memory by getting off before and after. Not to mention nearly every morning now, and after the practices you couldn't be with him after. It was a pretty chronic addiction.
He lapped up the excess wet and used it as extra, completely unnecessary lubrication for his gentle, steady assault on you.
It edged you so close to finishing you had to tug him up by the roots.
"Tsukki- a-ah, I'm-,"
His chin dripped in lewd clear, his eyes bordering on mean how he squinted (blind) up at your interruption.
Ohh, fuck.
Despite hating the premature ending, even his contentious personality couldn't deny that pouty, needy expression on such a pretty face.
He only had a moment to wipe off the drool, amongst other substances, from his chin, as you pulled him in.
"I need you- so bad," You begged between hot kisses and his preferential taste for sucking just under your ear.
You heard him quite clearly stop breathing for a moment.
"Yeah?" He rasped, hardly a trace of brown in his sparkling eyes. The generous bulge prodding against you from his athletic shorts was a welcome challenge.
His body weighed on you as he smashed his lips into yours, clumsy and enthusiastic and wanton. Your legs wrapped around his waist and stirred a shaky groan from his throat.
That vivid print crammed against your pussy gave you a very bleak, disheartening reminder.
Your brow furrowed and you pushed a bit on his chest.
Highly sensitive to this small act of rejection, he took nearly all of his weight off of you at once.
Quick on the uptake though, you explained, "I-, I really do want you, it's just- I'm not comfortable doing this without a condom."
The epic battle playing in his head halted at once.
His eyes lit up wide, but his voice was as flat as usual, "I have one."
Confusion, relief, and chiefly the excitement between your legs took over all at once.
You laughed, leaning up to give him a smiley, lustful kiss, "Since when are you so optimistic?"
He returned it with an ardent, brief passion and tore himself away to collect his wallet from the floor. There was no extra inflection nor amorous implication to his words as he responded.
"Since you."
In a way, it almost sobered you up. The matter-of-fact statement was somehow new and old news, but hearing him declare it, instead of a mere suggestion, built a bridge you didn't realize you were still missing.
You got up to a kneel on the mats and pulled him in for a softer and appreciative kiss. He wore a little confused smile when you pulled away, but didn't question you.
Between you was the condom pinched between his index and middle finger. The thumb on his other hand was hooked under his waistband.
"Can you-," He looked away from you, bashful with a cute frown.
"Show you?"
A tiny nod.
There was no doubt in your mind for how you wanted to take him.
"Get on your back for me, baby," You mumbled against his lips with a fleeting kiss.
Stiff with nerves from your self-assuredness, he swiped off the rest of his clothes and put his back to the sticky vinyl-covered mat. You weren't aware of the curious tilt your head gave as you settled above him, but it spurred a whole-body shiver in him.
"You see the little rim? And how, if I turn it upside down, it's not the same?"
He squinted only for a millisecond before grabbing around for his glasses -adorable- and gave a nod when he saw what you meant.
"It's like a contact," He muttered.
You nodded, carefully picking up his hard-on enough to slide the thing on. He watched, learned, intently how you managed to do this.
"If you put it on the wrong way, it's more likely to slip off."
Your hips slid up over his now-safe dick. He was silently relieved he could feel just a fraction less with it on, because you looked too damn good perched up on him like that. No way he'd be lasting very long.
Dropping to your elbows, you gave him another soft kiss and took his glasses off again with a chuckle.
"I can't watch you?" He muttered, finding your eyes now that he couldn't see as well. That was your goal; he always gave you better eye contact when he couldn't tell his left from right.
"Mm-mm," You hummed against his cheek, positioning him against your aching pussy.
It was all on your accord to take him as you liked. He was too smart to move before he knew you wanted him to.
That didn't stop the grip on you from getting twitchy and hard, nor his unrestrained sounds.
"Augh-aha, jesus--, fuck..." Awe flashed across his face for a moment, quickly overshadowed by a deeply furrowed brow and an unwavering, adoring stare.
You seethed, eyes rolling back at his size filled you up. There was heavenly electricity he somehow pushed through your entire body. Even your fingers were buzzing.
His hip-work was a bit confused, but it was charming, slow, and good for a start when you suggested that he move.
"That feel good?" You breathed, shaky, but wanting to know all of his thoughts. As if he wasn't wearing it all over his face.
He was coated in sweat- you were, too, because there was no cooling in here, but he was distractingly so. The side of his face glistened in the orange-hued room.
"Fuc-k, ye-ah..." He wore an open-mouthed half-smirk as he admired your slick body sit up on his cock and ride him.
You kept your palms on his chest to support yourself, head leaning to the side as you focused on taking him. He kept his touch on your thighs light now, since he didn't want to risk fucking anything about this perfect performance up.
A hand slipped from his chest and to your own needy clit- you gasped and let out a quiet moan, bucking a little at the feeling.
You had no idea how much you needed it. After his tongue, the grinding, and how he started matching your own preferred pace, that thrilling, pleasant strain deep inside of you grew at an irresponsible rate.
"That's--s' hot," He choked, eyes narrowed and glued to the sight of your swirling fingers.
"Hm?" You smiled and moved both hands to the sides of his head, mistaking his admission to mean a more general vibe.
His breath stalled with effort as he bottomed out and stayed there.
He guided your hand back and pressed it between your legs again.
You sat a bit up again so you could better chase that high, tingly with an acceptable amount of embarrassment of being watched like that. You were practically edging yourself at this point and his gaze was threatening to throw you off the edge.
Those massive, sweat-slicked hands filled once more with the plush of your hips. He was struggling to keep his eyes open to watch, but managed alright.
"You-gotta teach me,h-ah- sometime," His bottom lip caught between his teeth as his focus tunnelled on the filthy sight of his own rough hold and his cock sliding in and out of your cunt.
He was a fast learner. His strokes were less shaky now, and grew more confident by the second. It may have been partially due to the fact that he knew you could take him, which just drew him closer to orgasm.
You could ride and listen to him all day, if it wasn't for your own body's limited capacity for the way he was taking you.
"Why don't I--mmn! Teach- you- ah, now?" You made him look at you again, a favorite maneuver of yours now, only just barely clawing to a paper-thin veil of poise to torture him with, over a quickly approaching climax.
"'Cause, I'm gonna cum before I figure it o-ut," Tsukishima sigh-laughed and moved one hand to your lower back.
It brought you down to your elbows. From here, he could kiss you hard and hit at a deeper angle- it was messy and rough and uncalculated; astoundingly hot coming from him.
Tsukishima never let himself act that way. It was a telltale sign that he was coming completely undone.
That hold on your hips hardened, his nails digging into you as his groans gradually started turning into whines and curses.
"F-uck--! Mmn- ha-h-ah," He cried softly on your lips as he came, panting like a dog.
Those unabashed, vulnerable sounds seized your heart and your pussy, and soon you found yourself not close behind, thanks to the fact that he didn't stop fucking you even after he came.
Shaky fingers scratched at his neck and shoulders, clinging like a lifeline. White-hot waves crashed over you as he drowned the rest of your sounds in another sloppy, worshiping kiss.
The gym was so quiet when neither of you were making any noise.
There was the hum of cicadas outside, but not even the fans were turning. It was just your laden breathing in here.
Slowly, you were able to see more of him on the backend of that shared high. Your head buzzed with the comfort and warmth his body provided you. His heavy arms squeezed around your middle.
It looked like he was swimming in satisfaction with a familiar, smug smile on his lips and closed eyes.
"Mm, you gonna look at me, pretty boy?" You rubbed the laughable amount of sweat around on his tummy and chest.
A deep shade of red returned to his cheeks. You grinned.
"Pretty?" He repeated in a scoff.
He'd come to appreciate it more, because, "It's true. You are pretty."
Sure, he sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes, but he wouldn't be so embarrassed if he didn't see a little truth in it.
It was getting a bit cold, now that you weren't so worked up anymore.
"Shit...we've gotta clean this place up."
There was a quiet beat between you.
For a very slow and hesitant 30 seconds, you gripped the rim of the condom on his still rock-hard cock and slid off of him with a shudder. He remembered that maneuver for next time.
You climbed off of the mat and began putting on your clothes. The gym around you felt 300 times bigger than it actually was.
After figuring out how to take it off without getting drenched in his own cum, he tied it and observed the thing for a second. Then, he slid -yeah, slid- to the corner of the mat and stayed seated while he watched you get dressed.
Now you had even more to put away and wipe down, because Tsukishima left a 6 foot long pool of sweat on the mat. He wore a devious smirk.
"Since I'm the one competing in Nationals tomorrow, I think I'll just leave you to it--"
"You better get your lanky ass up right now," You swatted him with your shirt and he broke out into a playful grin as he heaved himself up and snatched it from you.
Now when he stood over you, it felt thrilling instead of threatening. He fixed the twist in your bra strap without looking away from your eyes.
He kept the shirt far out of your reach while he stole a kiss, "I'll help as long as you clean like this."
taglist:
TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT AND REPLIES!! the energy here was so great! requests are open!
@v15aexe @hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone
@beaniedoodz @idiotboys @djmoyolehuani @ilovemymomscooking
@imiqz @vierciale @sukunassaltysack @garlicbread9104 @awkwardaardvarkforever
#takesone#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyu fluff#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#haikyu tsukishima#tsukki#tsukki x reader#haikyuu tsukki#haikyuu angst#enemies to lovers#enemies with benefits#kei x reader#kei tsukishima#kei tsukishima x reader#x reader#reader insert#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smut#hq angst#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x reader smut#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#tsukishima x reader fluff
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SKZ maknae line random hard thoughts. (18+) MDNI.
warnings: porn. mentions of cunnilingus, breeding, d/s dynamics.
a/n: hehe again p/s don't take this seriously, it's just for fun!! & these are my personal opinions/thoughts. 😝
hyung line ver.
[red links are phb & white links are twitter]
HAN
- SUBBBBBBBB i don't care i don't care (tried to dom once and failed you still laugh about it to this day)
- blowjob enthusiast. will ask for head or a handjob whenever and wherever he doesn't care where you are or who's around. Any type of oral sex whether it's receiving or giving he's down for it. Really. 😋
- quite literally in love with your tits. Pt. 2
- before he leaves for tour he records videos for you to keep while he's away. (;
fav position: 69
“i get so hard when i'm around you.”
“all i can think about is how good you're going to taste.”
“you give the best head i've ever had.”
felix
- maybe a little controversial but sub. he could also be a dom if he really wanted to (tried it already. doesn't like it.)
- mornings with lixie (gives me chan vibes too idk) +
MORNING SEXX.
- face sitting. ❗️ pt. 2
- when he's horny but doesn't want to stop playing on his pc he begs for you to suck his cock on your knees under his desk.
- playing w/ his sensitive cock. :]
fav position: face off
“there is no taste sweeter than yours.”
“you're making me feel so good.”
“you've been teasing me for too long. it's my turn now.”
seungmin
- dom (tried to sub once and hated not being in control)
- car sex <3
- absolutely loves tying you up teasing & edging you. 🫠 (these videos r so hot)
- prefers when you initiate things with him rather than the other way around.
- tits >> ass for him :p i feel like nobody is going to agree but it needs to be said.
fav position: butterfly
“such a good little pup, aren't you?”
“show me how much you want it.”
“i’ve been thinking about bending you over that table and just having my way with you.”
I.N
- DOMMMM.
- obsessed w/ fingering you. (even better if it's in public, pt. 2)
- isn't afraid to get rough when you have an attitude or after an argument.
- breeding kink ! HUGE breeding kink.
- invites you often to events/schedules so he could fuck in the bathroom because he loves the thrill of someone, one of the members, possibly catching you two.
fav position: spooning
“swallow it. all of it.”
“open your legs for me, baby. i wanna see you.”
“you look so pretty when you're cumming for me.”
//
nini's notes
masterlist / request list
Happy New Year's Eve!!! please if you're going out & celebrating, drink responsibly!! please don't drink & drive!! 🙏
i hope 2025 is good to all of you! i'm one of the few people who are still stuck in 2024 lol i have about 4 hours left. 🫠
goodbye 2024 you weren't the best but you were better than 2023 :p
-🎀
#stray kids smut#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids links#x links#twt links#felix links#felix hard hours#felix smut#han smut#Han jisung links#kim seungmin smut#kim seungmin links#yang jeongin links#jeongin links#yang jeongin smut#jeongin smut#skz links#kpop links#kpop smut#kpop bg links#kpop bg smut#stray kids hard hours#han jisung smut#i.n smut#i.n links#skz smut#smut#twitter links#links#skz x
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
Masterlist - Taglist Form
All Chapters
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), panic attack, mentions of guns and war (this is COD so), mentions of cheating but it just three idiots not knowing what poly is ❤️
Soap gets thrown into action ridiculously quick, barely passing the psychological evaluation and he is ready to go back to war. It had costed you multiple fights with Price, even with Laswell, to try and keep him from going back.
It didn't matter how many times you debated it, or how solid your arguments were. If the psychiatrist decided that Johnny was ready.... He was.
Even if she contradicted herself, even if you said Johnny had forgotten half of his experience, even if you said he was still in physical rehab.
All of that didn't matter.
And no matter how hard you fought it, barely a couple of months after you returned to base, Johnny was putting on his uniform to leave.
Price wasn't the only one you argued with, the frustration of feeling like you were sending Johnny to the slaughterhouse caused you to be irascible and, even if you didn't mean to, to lash out at anyone who would disagree with you.
Even if Johnny was the one who was opposing you.
"Lass, I don't want to go away being in a fight with you." He began to say as he strapped on his vest.
"Then don't leave." You replied from the door frame and your arms crossed.
"Baby... We've been over this, please.... I have to..." She said, hands raised and voice soft as if speaking to a frightened animal.
And that's how you felt, like a dog being promised by his owner that he's not going to abandon him as he walks out the door with a target on his forehead.
Just like Johnny, you had also had sessions with the base psychiatrist; but unlike him, you had not been given a pass. You were more than ready to be discharged, but if they clared you, then you would have the power to say that Johnny was not ready to return.
So the amnesiac who two months ago could not walk was prepared to return to the battlefield. And you, whose only psychological damage was to see him dead, were bound hand and foot as you watched him go to almost certain death.
"No! You don't have to, Johnny! Don't you realize what they're doing!!!?" You burst out, once again, uncrossing your arms to express your displeasure with the situation.
"Of course I realize! I have amnesia, I'm not an idiot!" He responded in the same tone as you, causing guilt to build up in your opinion. "I'm still capable of making my own decisions so you don't need to make them for me anymore! Don't you realize I need to feel useful!"
Johnny didn't want to yell at you, or lose control and say something he didn't mean; but he was still human and frustration had gotten the better of him too.
Ever since he saw how Ghost had left you in your room, the fact that you had been together obvious; Johnny hadn't been able to help but compare himself to the blond.
At first it was physical, the time immobilized had left him thinner. When Gaz showed him a picture from before the accident he doubted that he could ever be as wide as he was before... Almost the same as Ghost.
But not now.
Now he was shorter, weaker, more inexperienced... He had nothing to beat him with, to compete for you. And Johnny knew it.
Besides, he was sure that you must have felt him as a burden. A big baby you had to take care of so he wouldn't choke if you didn't cut his food.
So when he was asked if he wanted to come back, he didn't think twice. Later, when he told you about it and saw how your expression changed to one of absolute panic, he regretted not asking you before agreeing. But his pride was hurt when he saw you arguing with everyone you could to keep him from going.
This was not your first discussion on the subject, and every time it ended you both felt like idiots; for hurting the other indirectly and for knowing that you were not able to convey your own feelings to each other.
And Simon has been the scavenger vulture that has taken advantage of each and every one of those discussions.
As soon as he realized that you had argued, Simon would go from one to the other.
"I'm worried about him too, love. But Johnny's still Johnny, nothing's going to happen to him, you'll see." He would say to you.
"I understand you, Johnny.... It's normal that you want to go back to the battlefield.... It's where you always shine the most..." I said to him.
And so on and so forth.
Simon wasn't looking to fuel any enmity between the two of them, it didn't make sense when he was the one who wanted to join the pair. But when he saw the small chasm that the argument created, he only strove to shape it into his own form; to pull the two of them into him once inside.
It was a turning point on his relationship with Johnny. In no way enough for the blue eyed man to like him, but now he answered when he talked to him.
He had managed to catch Johnny with his guard down a couple of nights ago, after what seemed like the biggest argument between the two of you. You didn't even let Simon in your room. But Johnny did.
They spend the greater part of the night talking, it was obvious that Johnny has been wanting to rant and would rather have somebody to do it that simply talking to the void. He had to do his greater effort to not take more than Johnny was giving him, to not get closer as he spoke; even if he mumble and could barely hear him. Not to hug him when he saw his eye shine with unspilled tears when he talked about making you sad. Not to lay him over his lap and beat his ass black and blue when he confessed some of the things he had said to you.
He pulled back, he stayed on a safe distance. And the next day he got his reward when Johnny finally spoke to him first.
“Morning, Lt.”
Like a ghost of his life before the accident.
It was your turn now.
The night before the flight to his new mission.
It wasn't meant to be a difficult mission, and even though he new there was always some risk, he wouldn't have allowed Johnny to tag along if he knew there was an actual threat.
He also knew that you couldn't see that, and he understood perfectly why. He just neded to think about how much time you were alone with an unconscious Johnny, everyone would have gone crazy in your situation.
Stranded, injured, taking care of an unresponsive person, that person being a loved one… he knows he wouldn't have been rescued. But you turned off that part of you brain, focusing on keeping Johnny alive and yourself by correlation.
Fear and despair are human emotions, and you can't have those if you turn yourself in a machine. And Simon knew that well.
He agreed with the psychiatrist up to a certain point, you had developed a link to Johnny during your stay that needed to be broken. Focusing on keeping Johnny alive kept you sane, when losing your mind or asking for help meant your death or Johnny's.
But that risk was no longer there, therefore you should have let go of it; but the rope is already under your skin to do so and now you panic even at the thought of it. The suppressed feelings too mixed and too tight inside of your mind to make sense.
That's how you found yourself now, curling on Simon's lap, hyperventilating as you cry your eyes out. The rope keeping you hanging over your feeling finally snapped, and you fell right onto his arms.
And if it weren't for the heartbroken way you were crying, Simon would have been happy to be the one you had looked to for relief.
Simon didn't try to talk to you, knowing you wouldn't even hear him over the sound of your cries, he simply hugged you and stroked your head; while you cried on his shoulder, his shirt getting wet with your tears, drool and snot. Completely crumbling after finally facingyour long neglected feelings.
The fear of dying in the tunnel, the pain of injury, the anxiety of a possible ambush at any moment, the constant tension that Johnny will suddenly get worse. All out, back into the world.
It's when you're choking on your own saliva, coughing and breathing tightly together causing you to gag, that Simon moves his hands to your arms, gently pushing you to see you better.
But his heart shrinks when he notices your hands gripping his shirt tightly as a whimper escapes your lips. Still, and with as much willpower as he can, he pulls your trembling hands away from the clothes, with them quickly grabbing his hand instead.
You are still hyperventilating, your head is lowered and Simon can only see the tears falling as your whole body trembles.
"What’s that sound?" Simon suddenly asks, and your too-curious-for-your-own-good nature betrays you by making you fall for his trick.
Because your cries gradually diminish in volume, to try and hear whatever Simon is talking about. But the short moment when you're just hiccuping, trying to breathe normally to hear better, is all Simon needs.
He grabs the tissue from the bedside table, bringing it up to your nose to blow your snot. A confused expression comes over your face, would he really blow your nose?
You take the tissue from his hand and do it yourself, asking him for a couple more before finally feeling your face dry from tears and so on.
"I'm sorry" You whisper, with Simon quickly quipping to you before you can finish.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. It was about time you got it out, love." He tells you, helping you to lean against him again.
You snuggle into him, your head resting on his dry shoulder and your hands pressed to your chest, making it easy for Simon to wrap his arms around you.
He knows you still have a lot more to release inside you, but he also knows it's not the pain you can vent in a single crying session. But the first step has been taken.
And more importantly, the next morning when you say goodbye to the two of them before they leave for their mission, you talk to Johnny again.
"You be careful, okay? And no more head banging, Johnny." You mutter, moving Johnny's head so his forehead rests on yours.
"Of course, bonnie. We'll be back before you miss me." Johnny replies, giving you a kiss on the cheek, right next to the nose wetting his lips with the single tear that escapes you.
In addition, once on the plane, Jonny watches him for a while before speaking again.
"You talked to her, didn't you?"
"Yes, last night."
"Thanks.”
Once on the battlefield, Johnny's attention is once again focused on Ghost. On the intimidating, terrifying lieutenant who at every turn turns around to make sure Johnny is still behind him, without a scratch.
Johnny is aware of the void in his memory of the last few years of his life. But he remembers perfectly the years of his adolescence when he doubted so much about his sexuality. How his eyes would run after every pretty girl he passed in the halls of high school. And at night, when he can't sleep; he still remembers the awkward erection when the captain of his rugby team tackled him during practice, leaving Johnny pressed against the ground.
It has been many years since Johnny came to terms with the fact that he preferred not to put labels on something he didn't fully understand.
So when in the middle of a surprise exchange of gunfire Simon grabbed his arm hiding Johnny behind him to make sure he didn't get hit and his eyes were fixed on the small space of exposed skin between the glove and the sleeve, and Johnny watched him for longer than would be considered normal.... He was not really surprised.
Johnny can see what you see in Simon. Especially because of the way he treats him, even if Johnny doesn't know. Simon cannot help himself.
In his Johnny the one at stake.
With anyone else, Simon wouldn't hesitate to let his nasty nature called Ghost, which he has cultivated to keep people away, shine through. But not with Johnny. Nor with you.
At least not when his goal is to find his niche between the two of you.
So Johnny sees for the first time, what if he were able to remember, he saw between the cracks of Ghost's mask after years.
And just as it happened to him before the accident.... Johnny can't help but feel the butterflies when Simon looks into his eyes.
"You alright, Johnny?”
Against all odds, but still not surprising to either of them, the mission ends up lasting much longer than they both thought it would.
This ends up working to Simon's advantage, as it continues to push Johnny towards him.
Their relationship continues to mutate by leaps and bounds, as the day before they boarded the plane Johnny could barely look him in the eye without hatred in his pupils.
This is why, when they finally start to mobilize to return to base and the two of them are assigned to return in a single car with no one else; that Johnny deviates from the road and parks on the side of the road.
"Can I ask you something, Lieutenant?"
And Simon questions for a moment if there really is anything Johnny could ask him that he wouldn't be willing to answer.
"Go ahead."
"Before the accident... What was the situation?"
"Elaborate."
"Between us... and with her."
And Simon knows perfectly well what Johnny is referring to, the scotsman is neither stupid nor blind.
"What would it affect how things were before the accident?"
"Everything!"
"Give me an example, Johnny."
"Whatever." Johnny backs off, jerking his hand to restart the car.
Except Simon is quicker and takes the key out of the ignition and out of Johnny's hand.
"Explain yourself, Johnny."
"No, whatever, we're late."
"Until I get there no one leaves, we can be as late as we want to be. Explain yourself."
Johnny puffs, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more if possible.
"I feel at a disadvantage, okay?" Johnny admits, glancing at Simon for a second before looking ahead again. "I feel like everyone is aware of what's going on and everything that happened before the accident. And that everyone's talking over my shoulder as if instead of amnesia I was stupid. And I have feelings that don't make sense for me to have in such a short time, and the only thing that makes sense in my mind is that they were already there before the accident!"
The two remain in awkward silence for more minutes than is desirable.
"Do you have feelings for me, Johnny?"
"No!"
One more awkward silence.
"For her?"
"...I don't know."
"You don't know or you don't want to admit it?"
"I don't know!"
Simon is frustrated with myself, and is aware that Johnny must be equally frustrated. Two grown men too stubborn to admit their feelings.
Simon huffs, pondering his next move for just a few seconds before removing his mask. The move catches Johnny's attention and he turns to look at him, just in time to see Simon grab his face to crash his lips against his.
It's a peck. Nothing more.
But it's enough to make Johnny look at him like he's just grown horns on his head. Simon can practically see the smoke coming out of Johnny's ears, but he also sees his eyes stare for a millisecond at his lips again. And that's all he needs.
"Do you want to talk about feelings or do you want to show them to me, Mactavish?"
Johnny only needs a second to unbuckle his belt and grab Simon's vest to pull him closer to him.
Johnny knows this isn't the way, that they should talk, clear out everything, lay the groundwork for the strange triangle they're excluding you from for now by doing it this way.
But after the time spent together on the mission, every glance, every brush, every word exchanged. Johnny knows this isn't the right way to do it, but he knows it's the easiest. And for now, that's enough for him.
Johnny moves over the console to reach Simon; it's an awkward position with the gearshift lever digging into his thigh. But when Simon's hands travel to the back of his thighs and he sits him on his lap it all fits together like puzzle pieces.
It's an aggressive kiss, with both wanting to take the lead; teeth clashing, drool sliding down the corner of their lips and one's breath colliding with the other's.
It's Simon who gives in, letting Johnny enter his mouth, savoring the taste of the cigarette he smoked just before starting the car. A horrible taste that tastes like glory coming from the blond's mouth.
Despite the multiple layers of clothing, Johnny can perfectly feel Simon's cock harden under his weight. Johnny lowers his hand to Simon's belt, unbuckling it carelessly; parting the kiss to look down at what he's doing.
That moment Simon takes the opportunity to speak. "You're not going to let me fuck you, are you?"
Johnny laughs softly, shaking his head at the same time. "Didn't you ask me to show you my feelings, blondie? I'm going to show them to you, just as good as I showed her."
"Can't fucking wait." Simon declares pulling Johnny's hair to kiss him again once he manages to unbuckle his belt.
Johnny slips his hand into Simon's boxers, wrapping his hand around his member and pulling it out of the confines of the garment. Simon moans at the not very gentle maneuver, Johnny's calloused hand moving up and down against the dry skin making him groan.
Johnny notices the lack of lubrication and spits a heavy blob of saliva onto his tip, Simon sighing in relief at the much desired wetness.
"Now imagine if instead of my drool it was her pussy juices, Simon." Johnny murmurs, licking Simon's neck making Simon groan letting his head fall back against the headrest.
"That's a fucking dream, Johnny." Is all he manages to reply.
Johnny laughs, unbuckling his own belt with one hand as he continues to massage Simon's length with the other. When he manages to get his own member out he also positions himself as close as he can to Simon, cock against cock. Needing to use both hands to encircle both members as he moves them up and down, bringing them both fully to life; noticing how they harden between his fingers.
It is impossible for him not to move his hips against his hands, both moaning in unison at the friction between their cocks. The little droplets of cum that are born from their members helping to increase the mess of fluids.
It's only when Johnny decides that enough is enough that they change positions. Simon takes off his pants, limiting himself to removing one boot so he can stick one leg out; and Johnny tells him how he wants him to lie on the back seats.
The man is too big for the car seats, with his head resting on the hand rest by the door and his knees bent to fit. Johnny kneels on his chest, trying not to drop his weight on it so as not to suffocate Simon. With the hand he has on the base of his member, he moves it so that he slaps Simon on the mouth.
"Careful, Johnny" Simon warns him, trying to let Johnny know that he is in control for as long as Simon wants.
Johnny smiles, winking at him. Perfectly aware of the danger but unafraid of the consequences. "We don't have any other lube, Lieutenant. Ye better blow me good."
Simon grunts, parting his lips so Johnny can enter his mouth. Johnny begins to move his hips, slowly so the Brit can get used to the width of his member. Johnny moans as he feels the warmth of his mouth around his member, the muscle of his tongue caressing the underside of it causing a shiver to run up his back.
Johnny looks over his shoulder, dropping his eyes to Simon's member, taking a moment to admire it in all its splendor. It's long, easily over 7 inches, uncut, lying flat on the part of his abdomen exposed by his wrinkled T-shirt, slightly tilted to one side by his own weight and with a healthy amount of mouthwatering veins that make Johnny's mouth water.
But today, Johnny has a different mission. He slips two of his fingers into his own mouth licking them as he makes eye contact with Simon while continuing to move his hips; driving deeper and deeper into his mouth.
The hand that was at the base of his member moves to Simon's head, grabbing his hair and holding it still. The other, once satisfied with how wet his fingers are, moves it to between Simon's legs, brushing his member with his forearm as he does so and begins to press into Simon's tight entrance with his index finger.
Johnny notices him tense up for half a second at the sudden pressure before letting his body relax under Johnny's caresses and he pushes in to the first phalanx of his first finger. Moving his hand and hips in tandem.
Simon's jaw soon starts to ache, especially when Johnny begins to thrust forward; Simon's nose brushing against Johnny's pubes.
And yet, Simon moans when Johnny slips a second finger into his ring of muscle. They are both aware that Johnny's fingers are not enough to accommodate Johnny's girth, but in their perverted minds it only adds to the kinkiness.
Johnny finally pulls away from Simon's mouth, a trickle of drool connecting his lips to Johnny's member still. Mouth empty, Simon is free to moan as Johnny opens and closes his fingers inside Simon.
"I didn't know you were a singer, Lieutenant."
"Johnny... Shut the fuck up..." Is all Simon can reply.
Johnny pulls his fingers out, making Simon sigh, and moves to stand between Simon's legs, as comfortable as he can inside the cramped vehicle.
He thinks about it for a second before moving his hands under his officer's knees and moving them towards his head, easily folding him in half; the sergeant's strength taking him by surprise.
But what really surprises him is feeling the sergeant's wet tongue at his entrance, making him moan pathetically at the contact. It's a couple of mere licks, nothing more, before Johnny breaks away licking his lips; then spits a fat glob of saliva at the entrance.
The sergeant lowers his legs, sitting back up and Simon slightly blushing at the ease with which he has moved him to his surprise.
"I'll take it slow, okay?" Johnny suddenly says, a touch of gentleness amidst the strange scuffle that lets his true feelings show.
Johnny pushes forward slightly, both of them hissing at the tight feeling. Johnny's hand find their place on Simon's hips, with Simon's hand finding support on his wrists.
“Fuckin' hell, Johnny…” Simon moans whe Johnny has barely gotten past the puffy tip.
“You are going to choke my dick off, Simon” he moans, throwing his head back.
Slowly but steadily Johnny bottoms out inside of Simon, feeling his insides pulse around his length in a vice-like grip. Simon has never felt this full, feeling the weight of Johnny's shaft all the way back on his column.
Johnny slowly starts to move, painfully slow lo let the other finally adjust to the invasion. The moans and whispers growing in volume as Johnny starts to pick up the pace of his thrust.
And is not long before Johnny as a steady rhythm, hip slapping against his, Simon's cock slapping slightly against his abdomen with each thrust. Is when Johnny starts to snap his hips harder that Simon needs to move one his hands from Johnny's wrist to the door of the car to avoid getting a concussion with the hits of his head against it.
Simultaneously, and completely unaware of it, their minds travel to you. How would you fit in between them; would you ride Simon while Johnny rides him? Would you sit on Simon's face while Johnny rides Simon? Would they both fuck you senseless?
Johnny's free hand moves to Simon's shaft, grabbing it hard and tugging, forcing a whine out of Simon. “Shit! Johnny, that's- that's too much! Fuck!” Simon moans loudly, the double stimulation enough to make him throw his head back; hitting the door with the lack of strength left on his body.
“That's too much for you, Lt?” Johnny asks between grunts and moans. “And how will you handle her riding you while I fuck you?” The mental image making both moan.
“Once we are back… I'm destroying your ass, Johnny.” Simon manages to say through gritted teeth to avoid a moan from scaping his mouth.
Johnny chuckles at his threat. “Are you asking me on a second date, blondie?” He says, he bends down to kiss Simon again, and right before crashing his lips together he whispers “I can't fucking wait, Si.”
The new angle Johnny hits when bending down has Simon seeing white dots on his vision, and when Johnny tugs at his shaft again, thick ropes of cum spur on his abdomen pooling in his navel. He clenches down around Johnny's lengths, making him moan loudly and he barely manages to pull out before combusting over Simon stomach as well, the seed of both mixing together over his skin.
The car windows are fogged up as Johnny sits in the seat opposite Simon. Grabbing bandages from the first aid kit in his backpack so Simon can clean himself. Johnny readjusts, putting away his dick and buckling his belt; watching as Simon does the same once he manages to pull his pants back up and buckles his boot.
“About… about how we felt before the accident…” Simon breaks the silent, looking ahead. “We were never together… and I can't talk on behalf of her or you, but for me… I knew I felt things for…” Simon sighs, struggling to choose the right words. “I knew I used to feel things for the two of you… I still do.”
Johnny doesn't say anything, being able to tell that Simon still has more to say but needs a moment to regroup his feelings.
"Especially with you. The tunnel accident... It wasn't your first brush with death, Johnny. A couple of years ago, on a mission in Mexico, well, in Las Almas.... Things happened, and you and I got separated, we got... Uncommunicated... From each other and from everyone..." Simon narrates, recounting a mission that doesn't tug at Johnny's memory strings in the least. "On that mission I thought... I thought I'd lost you, Johnny. And it was in that moment that I thought I'd lost you that I realized they weren't just friends' feelings..."
Simon laughs dryly, rubbing his face with his hand before continuing. "I almost declared myself back then.... And several times after that but.... But then the tunnel thing happened and..."
The sentence is half-spoken, but neither Simon needs to say more nor Johnny needs to hear it.
"And... And you think I loved you back, Simon?"
"I'd like to think you did, Johnny.”
Taglist: @waiting-so-long @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadowbat @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn
#call of duty#ghostsoap#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod x reader#cod#john soap mactavish#ghost cod#soapghost#simon riley#cod smut#ghost smut#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#soap x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#ghoap#ghoap x reader#soap#call of duty smut#john mactavish#ghoap smut#soap x ghost#ghost x soap#ghost x soap x reader
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hellooo everyone :) i hope you like it, this was incomplete for a long time and i did my best to try to get it ready and post it
REMEMBER: english is not my first language
angst/fluff word count: 3,5k
✦۟ ࣭ ⊹
It's not that you hate Mason's friends, far from it, but you just... don't fit into their lifestyle.
You and Mason have been together for a few months now and yet you still feel out of place in his reality, especially since his friends act like you don't exist. You actually enjoy talking to them and you think they're fun, but it annoys you when they invite Mason to parties as if he were single, or talk about other girls in front of you and even ask Mason's opinion about them.
Mason never made you doubt his feelings for you, but all of this has been building up and making you stressed.
It was Wednesday afternoon and you were at Mason's house working on your computer, Mason had training and he wouldn't be back for another hour. Erik changed today's training time ‘cause he had an appointment and so Mason would be at Carrington until 7pm. The doorbell ringing startled you, you weren't expecting anyone, not even Mason's family.
You were surprised to see Woody standing at the door of Mason's house with two women behind him, and apparently he thought it was strange that you answered the door.
“Y/n, hey, I didn’t know you were here” Woody spoke and scratched his head, a little embarrassed.
“Hello, Woody. It’s good to see you” you said and then looked at the two model-like women behind him. “Mason is still in Carrington, do you need to talk to him?”
Woody walked up the two steps of the stairs and you let him in, and the two women he was with followed him. Of course, Mason's house is also the house of his best friends.
“Yeah, actually we had planned to go to a party today. It's Stella's birthday” he pointed to the blonde woman in the red dress, and she smiled at you.
“Happy birthday Stella” you smiled at her and turned to Woody again. “He didn't tell me anything, Mason and I arranged to go out for dinner.”
“Well, he confirmed that he's going to the party, I hope you don't mind leaving dinner for another day.”
“No, of course not, I'll just wait for him to arrive so I can change” you said and pointed to the gym clothes you were wearing.
“Actually, Y/n…” Woody started with a tone of voice you didn't like.
“All the seats at the party have been reserved, I can't put any more names on the list, I'm sorry” the brunette woman spoke for Woody, and you were speechless as the three of them stared at you standing in the middle of the living room in Mason's house.
“Yeah, of course” you smiled, even though you were angry at Woody for doing the same thing he always did, acting like Mason was still single.
“I hope you don't mind Mason going alone, but he's my friend and I really wanted him there” Stella said and you agreed. “Oh, Woody said you weren't very nice but you are.”
Woody's eyes widened and you glared at him, watching him swallow hard. You smiled fakely at Stella.
“Yeah, I don't think Woody is very cool either and I hope he knows that” you spoke at the same moment the door opened and Mason walked in, and he heard you talking about Woody. “Have fun tonight.”
You grabbed your computer from the living room table and went upstairs, trying to take a deep breath while knowing everyone was staring at you.
“Woody, what are you doing here, mate?” you heard Mason asking his friend.
“It's Stella's birthday man, you remember how much fun you two had, right?” was the last thing you heard before the bedroom door slammed shut. You took a deep breath once, twice, three times, even though it was difficult.
You were sick of being treated like you meant nothing to Mason, and he wouldn't even tell his friends to stop it, and that was what hurt you the most, he cares so much about his friends that he doesn't realize that you're the one who's getting upset about all this.
You packed your things and put away your computer, there was no way you were going to stay there any longer. You heard laughter from downstairs and it made you even more frustrated with Mason.
It wouldn't be nice to leave Mason's house with all of them staring at you in the living room, but you also didn't want to wait until they left, which could take hours. You honestly wanted to cry, but you hated feeling helpless and crying in front of someone, even if it was the person you gave your heart to.
Fuck him and his friends.
“Mate, I bought a ticket for a party in Ibiza during the international break, we have to go. I bought your ticket too” Woody said to Mason, and you could see that they were sitting on the couch. Mason was in the middle of Woody and Stella.
“I have to ask Y/n if she wants to go and-”
“Bro, she hates us and she won't want to go, you have to go alone, it will be fun.”
“Yeah, I'll think about it” Mason spoke softly and you snorted.
“Who knows, maybe I'll go to Ibiza with you guys? Polly can go too” Stella said and you walked down the stairs, you didn't want them to see you but it was impossible to leave without being noticed. Mason's gaze went to your bags and he noticed that you were leaving.
“Where are you going?” he asked but you didn’t look at him, you continued towards the exit door. “Y/n?”
Mason followed behind you and closed the door when you were both outside, and finally you looked up at him and he saw the tears in your eyes.
“I’m going home” you spoke softly and Mason lost focus for a few seconds. “You can go to the party, I won't stop you from going.”
“You’re going with me.”
“Oh, am I? I’m sorry, your friend was pretty clear when he said that there’s no space for me there” you said and felt a tear fall, but the last thing you wanted was to cry in front of Mason.
“He didn't mean it, you were rude to him and said you don't like him and-”
“What?” you weren't believing what Mason was saying. It wasn't the first time he defended Woody or Declan or Benny from you, and he never defended you the same way to them, he just accepts what they say about you.
“Look, Woody is one of my best friends, you know that. If you love me, then you should like them too because they’re my family.”
“Yeah, you're right. But maybe they don't love you as much since they don't like me.”
“What are you saying?”
“You always let them say whatever they want about me, Mason. You never stood up for me, ever. How do you think I feel when my boyfriend lets his friends talk about other girls or bring women over to his house while I'm here?”
“They are my friends.”
“I have friends too, Mason, and they've never disrespected you the way Woody or Declan do to me. I heard Woody saying that you and Stella had fun, do you think it didn't hurt to hear that? They don't think I'm enough for you?”
“I love you, that's enough” Mason spoke with his hands in his hair, huffing.
“Yeah, only in your dreams will I spend the rest of my life putting up with this.”
“Don't go away, let's talk, there's no reason to make this drama, love” Mason tried to pull you away but you pushed his arm away, shaking your head. “Y/n, please, let's go inside.”
“No, Mason. You don’t understand” you said frustratedly, finally crying and sobbing. “I don't want to hear any more bullshit about other women while I'm around. I don't want to know who you were with before me, they have no respect for me and you don't do anything about it. Declan cheats on Lauren all the time and encourages you to do the same, you think I don't feel stupid? He's a jerk and she should dump him, and it hurts me when you don't say anything about it because you're their child's godfather and you think it's funny that he has been cheating on her the whole time.”
“I don't think it’s funny.”
“So you hide very well that you care about her or Jude” you wiped your eyes, looking at Mason who looked sad. “I really think you're not ready for a relationship, maybe you really love your friends and they’re your priority, but the Mason I knew is not this guy in front of me.”
“Hey, no, c’mon, I love you, I didn't know you felt that way.”
“Exactly, you care more about them than me.”
You turned your back and Mason tried to pull you towards him, but you refused and cried as you walked away. You looked at him one last time and saw Mason's eyes full of tears, but you chose to turn around and leave.
“Y/, don’t go, please.”
“When you realize what's wrong we can talk again.”
Mason watches in shock as you get into an Uber without looking back, it's like he's trapped in a nightmare but he can't do anything because he's tied up. He stood there for several minutes staring at the street until he felt raindrops and went into the house, hearing Woody and the women's laughter as soon as he entered.
“Mase, you can change your clothes now so we can go, what do you think?” Stella asked, but Mason's mind was far away. He looked at Woody sitting on the couch with Polly sitting on his lap, and for the first time in months Mason realized the reasons that made you leave.
“I'm not going, you can go” he muttered before turning his back and heading towards the stairs.
“Mate, what do you mean? Y/n told us to go and have fun” Woody said and Mason turned his face in time to see his friend get up from the couch and walk towards him.
“Shit, Woody, she broke up with me. Please go away now, I don’t want you here for now” Mason realized that you really did leave. He needs to be stuck in his own misery for a while.
“That's why we should go out, man, so you can forget about her, like old times.”
“Get out.”
“What the fuck?” Woody really wasn't understanding Mason, and it pissed him off, because now everything was obvious and Mason was the only idiot who didn't realize he was losing you. “What did Y/n say about me? She's an idiot, don't pay attention to her.”
“Don't you dare talk about her like that again” Mason pointed a finger at Woody, who was startled by Mason's tone. “Get out of here, all of you.”
Mason didn't wait for an answer and went upstairs without looking back, he took his phone out of his pocket and called you, but you didn't answer any of the times he called, nor did you even respond to the several messages apologizing that he sent.
Mason threw himself on the bed and sighed, how could he be so stupid? It was all so obvious in front of him, but Mason was more concerned about his friends than the woman he loves.
He called more than twenty times and you didn't answer any of the calls, nor did you respond to his multiple messages apologizing. Mason's heart raced as he thought he may have lost you forever because he was childish and stupid.
Panic washed over him and Mason gasped, he ran his hands through his hair in despair and anger. Mason couldn't blame you for deciding to leave, he understands, but saying his heart wasn't hurting was a lie. Mason never felt that way, ever.
A tear ran down his face, then another and then another, and before Mason knew it he was sobbing and thinking about everything you had said to him. It was so stupid that he didn't realize how you felt about Woody or Declan, and Mason couldn't even judge you, because in all these months he really was a terrible boyfriend and only now could he realize it.
He actually let his friends take him to parties, he didn't mind when Woody brought women to him, and Mason never thought about hooking up with them, but now he realized that he wasn't respectful and broke the trust you had in him. And what about Declan? Mason couldn't even think about his best friend having sex with multiple women while he has an amazing person at home waiting for him, plus a son who is the most beautiful child Mason had ever seen.
Mason feels ashamed that he never said anything to Declan, and he feels ashamed that he didn't protect Lauren and Jude. And he is ashamed because you don’t trust him and broke up with him because of the things he did.
“Please, please, answer me.”
Another rejected call. Mason is about to despair.
✦۟ ࣭ ⊹
It's been two weeks since you and Mason broke up, and honestly it's been really hard to go through the days without talking to him and trying not to think about him.
You failed every day, of course.
Mason respected the message you sent asking him not to call you, but deep down you wished he hadn't given up. Every day you wonder if he's out partying with Woody, having women all over him and falling in love with the smile you love. It breaks you every time.
“It's not an exaggeration if he listed all his friends as if they were more important than you” Kiera murmured while you were lying down watching a movie, she went to your house because she didn't want to sleep alone, her boyfriend was traveling and would be back the next day. “Honestly, I love Mason, maybe this will make him realize what he did wrong and you guys can get back together.”
“Yeah, but I think he realized he prefers parties and Woody, he didn't call me anymore.”
“You asked him not to call you.”
“I know, but that would show me that he cares about me. Am I wrong?”
“Of course.”
“Do you think I should call him?”
“You miss him, right? You want him to call you but you asked him not to, he is just doing what you asked and respecting your time, if you are ready to talk, talk to him.”
“Yeah, I think you're right.”
But you didn't call, not the next day or the day after that. You knew Mason was traveling with the team because the next game was far away, and you didn't want to take your problems to him.
You missed him so much you could cry. You missed him when you woke up in the morning and missed his kisses on your neck, you missed having breakfast next to him and laughing at his stupid jokes, you missed him bothering you or lying next to you just watching some movie that neither of you paid attention to.
It was very cold in Manchester and the streets were already starting to have Christmas decorations, and that made you happy, it's the best time of the year. You went out for a walk in the late afternoon, the sun was setting and some people were walking along the streets.
It was crazy, but you swore you saw Mason's car parked at the pie shop when you were at the door, your favorite in the whole town. Mason also knew how much you liked chocolate pie, and he would always buy you a pie when he passed by.
But it wasn't crazy, ‘cause Mason came out carrying a box of pie just as you were about to climb the stairs to enter the store. You could have fallen if you weren't holding onto the railing, and Mason's eyes widened when he saw you.
He looked so handsome, his hair cropped because of the cut on his head, and he was wearing sweatpants and slippers. You couldn't help but smile when you saw his comfortable clothes.
“Did Ace eat all your sneakers?”
Mason breathed a sigh of relief when you asked, and the smile he gave you melted your heart.
“It would be too much work to put on sneakers, I preferred to go out like this” he walked down the two steps and stopped in front of you, your heart raced and you could feel your own hands shaking. Oh my God, it's Mason, why are you nervous?
You were silent for a few seconds, but Mason didn't take his eyes off you.
“So… how are you?” you asked, and Mason pulled you aside as a couple walked out of the pie shop. His touch on your arm sent you over the moon, and that was enough for you to realize that the time you needed was over.
“Honestly? I'm a mess” he confessed and you felt a pang of guilt, but you knew he needed that time too. “Do you want to talk here? Are you ready?”
“Hum- no, yes, I’m ready, but I don’t want to talk here” you spoke and he agreed. “We can go to my house. Are you going to take the pie to someone?” you pointed to the box in his hands.
“No, I bought it for myself” Mason scratched his head in embarrassment and you raised your eyebrows. “I don't know, chocolate pie reminds me of you and I was missing you.”
“Just like I'm watching Game of Thrones like crazy, then.”
“Oh, you said it was boring” he accused you, grinning, and you shrugged as you followed Mason to the car.
“You know I only watch ‘cause of Daenerys” you stopped next to Mason as he opened the car door for you, his scent reminded you of how much you missed him and you couldn't help but hug him, almost making him drop the pie box.
“I wasn't expecting that” he murmured as he left a kiss on your hair, hugging you with just one arm and you held his waist tightly, afraid that he would leave. “Oh God, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, sorry” you let go of him and smiled, feeling like a part of you was whole again.
You walked in silence to your house, and even so it wasn't bad, the smile you both had on your lips already said a lot.
“My mum is missing you, she almost hit me for not taking you to London with me on the international break.”
“Did you tell her what happened?” you asked as you grabbed two plates for you two to eat the chocolate pie that looked delicious.
“No, I said you were busy” he sighed and shrugged, but Mason still looked wary. “I was a bad boyfriend, Y/n, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not. I should never have put other things first, you are the most important person to me and I hate myself for disappointing you and making you distrust me.”
You just looked at Mason. He wasn't the same man you left three weeks ago, the man in front of you recognized his own mistakes, and that was clear and enough for you.
“I'm sorry for the things you went through, I was an idiot and didn't realize it. I should never have let Woody take those women to my house or treated you the way he did, I should have stood up for you.”
“It's okay, I forgive you.”
Mason sighed in relief when you approached him, and this time he hugged you so tightly as if he would never let you go.
And you didn't want him to let you go again.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/n, oh my God, how did I manage to go three weeks without talking to you or seeing you?” Mason put his hands on your shoulders and shook you, making you laugh.
“I had no one to fetch water for me at night.”
“Did you just miss me because of that? I'm taking this pie home and you're not going to eat it.”
“Actually, I think we can eat while watching Game of Thrones?”
“I knew you liked the series, you just didn't want to admit it to me.”
Mason took the pie into the living room and you grabbed a blanket from your bedroom, ready to snuggle into it for hours and hours. You walked back into the living room and Mason was smiling on the couch as he waited for you, and you couldn't help but smile and feel like everything was okay again.
Mason hugged you as you laid down next to him, he was warm and comfortable and even you didn't understand how you managed to spend so much time away from him.
Mason was your home, and not even so many days away would change that.
#one shot#manchester united#imagine#oneshot#football#football imagines#football one shot#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#mason mount one shot#mason mount#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount smut#mason mount hot#mason mount imagines#mason mount x reader#mason mount imagine#masonmount#mason mount x oc#mason mount x you#mason mount x y/n
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I don't think that we appreciate Viktor's plan enough. It is my firm belief that not only did he want to erase Hexcore and himself from existence, but also do some good in the process.
It was established that Hexcore found a way to corrupt the very water, spreading like a disease and infecting the environment. What this means is that by simply killing Viktor Hexcore problem wouldn't be resolved as wild rune remains and will lead to catastrophic consequences in the long run. Only Viktor himself could defeat Hexcore by consciously making the choice to destroy it. And Jayce was the only one who could make this outcome happen - he very well knew about it and the power he had, armed with Viktor's own feelings.
So the question remains: why did Jayce wait till the very last possible moment to show Viktor the power of love? He didn't try to earnestly talk to him even once, and always looked like a person set on a mission throughout. He also seemed to know the outcome of some encounters beforehand.
For instance, when Viktor is entering Hex vault? Jayce isn't even trying to attack Viktor here or be on a defensive, as if confident Viktor would do nothing and just walk by.
And of course this scene, where Jayce kneels by his weapon and closes his eyes, resigned for what is about to happen.
It is my opinion that Jayce had a pretty good understanding of the future events and his role in it, which leads me to believe that the severe escalation of Viktor's evolution, leading to the final fight, was necessary.
I honestly feel like animators did an amazing job showing how incredibly hard it was for Jayce to straight up crush Viktor time and time again, especially when knew about Viktor's feelings and realised himself that those were reciprocated. Can you imagine the pain Jayce must have felt? Killing the person he loved, warping them into something monstrous and even then, at his worst, Viktor was anything but indifferent to Jayce, and him alone.
But if it weren't for Jayce shooting Viktor the first time, literally breaking his heart, Viktor wouldn't lose his faith in humanity (Jayce) and agree to move on with Singed's procedure. It was stated that his power was finite, so I would speculate that Jayce didn't even try to persuade Viktor because he knew that even if he succeeded either Savior Viktor didn't possess enough power to stop Hexcore, or it was straight impossible without Ekko's anomaly. Hexcore would remain in the world any other way, therefore it was necessary to trigger Viktor's evolution to the Machine Herald form.
It also explains why Jace yet again isn't trying to convince Viktor in the Council room encounter afterwards, despite having Viktor coming forward, wanting to talk and bearing news of the hostile intentions of the Noxian. This is interesting, because in my opinion the most significant detail here is Viktor's reluctance to "evolve" Jayce to the point he'd rather kill him. And we know that for the Mage Viktor's plan to work Jayce has to be connected to Hexcore. That's why there is no attempt at talking at this point. Even if Viktor were to concede this very second and destroy Hexcore, it would still leave completely disorganized Piltover and Zaun facing oppressing Noxian forces. It is only after Jayce rejects and "kills" him once again that Viktor lashes out and completes his evolution. And as a result, it gives a perfect common enemy to unite forces against, which finally brings Piltover and Zaun together.
We shouldn't forget how everything started, how Viktor shared Jayce's idealistic dream and passion to bring magic to people and improve lives. Sure, ironically they got caught in a paradoxical anomaly that was dooming the world instead.
"In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good".
Viktor had achieved the end of pursuit and regretted it. Eventually he came to terms with the fact he's the only one who can effectively destroy hexcore, consciously chosing to erase it and himself from existence. And I refuse to think he is anything but pedantic about it, the scientists that he is. He knows what exactly must transpire, and he has the hindsight of different timelines and possibilities to organize the best of possible outcomes, the one that maximizes good this time.
#arcane#jayvik#viktor#arcane season 2#arcane spoilers#arcane viktor#arcane meta#arcane theory#jayce arcane#jayce talis#arcane thoughts#arcane take#my thoughts
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Professor!Theo x Professor!Reader
Major professor vibes in this pic, but it's so funny to me. He looks ready to scold the class lmaooooo.
Controversial, but I totally see him as a history professor, so I feel like he'd teach History of Magic. My other choice would be potions, but History of Magic just feels right.
I see him as a big flirt, so he definitely flirted with you back when you both were students, and possibly hooked up with him once. I don't see him as the relationship type back when he was a student.
But now that he's an adult and you're also a professor with him, he's started developing more of an interest in you than just sexually. He likes how you are with the students and the other staff. You're sweet.
You definitely remember him back from your time as a student, and it did make you a little awkward around him. You liked him and that didn't exactly change with time, and you remember him as this big playboy type who only really fucked around, so you figured he was probably still the same.
He would definitely still flirt with you when he got the chance, and that didn't exactly help your opinion of him. He would stop you in the halls to chat or wink at you as you passed each other, he'd make sure he could talk to you at dinner and flirt even more.
Now for him, he knew he was being obvious, but he thought you would catch onto his feelings for you and not just assume he was trying to hook up with you. That thought didn't even cross his mind. I mean, of course he thought about sleeping with you, but that wasn't his goal.
The students caught onto his obvious flirting and would harass you two about it, but, in this case, you both refused to answer, saying it's completely professional.
Though, now that they did mention it, you were starting to wonder if his intentions had changed or not back from when you were teens. Was it just sex or did he want something more?
You finally thought "fuck it", if it is just hooking up, at least you can hook up with someone hot, and him also being a professor was convenient.
You started flirting back a little and the first time you did it, he was surprised, but just smiled like an idiot. He wasn't expecting that and it actually made him a little flustered the first time.
After a few weeks of this little flirting, he asked you out and you agreed, figuring it would just end up with hooking up and nothing more.
But he took you out to a cute little restaurant in Hogsmeade and walked around the town with you before dropping you back off at your room with a kiss goodbye, leaving you standing there dumbfounded.
In fact, he asked you out a few more times and would only kiss you and nothing more. It made you ask him one night right after he kissed you and was about to leave.
He shuffled on his feet awkwardly before admitting he actually liked you and wanted to do this thing right. He didn't want to make you think it was just about sex, so he'd been holding off.
That melted your heart and you kissed him again before admitting you liked him too.
He smiled widely and told you he still wants to do this right and take it slow and told you you have the lead of the relationship. You tell him when you're ready for things and he'll follow your lead. He's way too nervous of going too fast and making you feel like you don't mean as much to him as you do.
Once the students find out though, they're teasing you about the "strictly professional" relationship.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@call-me-mishi @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddleluvbot @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0
@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3 @kurumbukaari @whydoireadanymore
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#theodore nott#thedore nott x reader#slytherin boys headcanons
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Texting them “I need you right now”
Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.
He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you.
Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.
"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.
"Yeah...petty reason."
"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."
You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.
Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.
He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.
During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.
He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.
"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."
He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.
He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.
The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.
He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get).
"What's wrong, doll?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.
Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.
"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped.
"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.
"Yeah...petty reason."
"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.
He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.
"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together."
He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.
He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.
"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.
Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.
"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.
"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.
"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.
He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.
"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."
Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving.
He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.
"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.
He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.
"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back.
"No, just hold me like this."
It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.
"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."
"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."
"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."
"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.
"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.
"What about work?" you asked.
"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."
Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.
He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.
"What's wrong, beautiful?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.
He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.
He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.
"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.
"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.
"Bullshit."
He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.
You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.
He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.
“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.
“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."
You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest.
He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.
#resident evil#albert wesker#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil 4#leon kennedy x you#resident evil 4 remake#luis serra#jack krauser#krauser x reader#wesker x reader#luis serra x reader
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Hi Derin!
Recently I came across one of your long posts about clothes, and it was a long long branching thread but it basically amounted to " the only way to stop humanity from man-made extinction caused by the fashion industry is to start wearing outfits made of many high-quality layers where every single piece down to your bra is made out of high quality materials that are EXPENSIVE but designed to last for decades, and in order to do that we need to start wearing underwear that covers bigger percentage of our skin than just a bra and a g string ,the way our ancestors did" and while I agree with that, I am wondering about something- JUST HOW do we adapt this kind of underwear that our ancestors wore to modern fashion, bc there are some very big differennces between " modern fashion" and " the fashion of yore" namely
Modern fashion includes many, many different styles of "tops" and "bottoms" ,from long jackets to tank tops cropped just under your nipples and full length trousers to miniskirts, while the fashion of yore was basically " you wear a cultural equivalent of a nun's habit every single day of your life, from the day you were born until the day that you die, no ifs or buts" (yeah yeah a MASSIVE oversimplification but bear with me here)
Modern fashion "strives" to be gender neutral, while the fashion of yore was basically like " there are two sexes, and if you wear clothes designed for the 'wrong' sex we're legally allowed to murder you with extra cruelty" ( YES I KNOW EVEN BIGGER OVERSIMPLIFICATION)
so yeah that's something that I was wondering for the past couple of days and I was wondering if you have any good ideas about how to solve those problems
My opinion on the matter is that fabric was just fine twenty years ago. Those clothes can last a long time under normal use and washing without being painstakingly hand-spun and woven to be part of a wardrobe that costs as much as a small home.
But if you did want to go back to protective layering, it's not hard. I do it, mostly because I can't stand the cold, so if you live in a cold climate you don't even have to change your fashion; just put the softest, thinnest tracky daks and long-sleeved tshirt you own on under your other clothes. Boom, skin layer. If you live in a warm climate, then do that with smaller clothes, I guess, shorts and skivvies or whatever, whatever fits under the clothes you like to wear.
To answer your broader question, you've got it entirely backwards. Never once in the history of clothing have the materials and industry adapted to the fashion. The fashion is an expression of the materials and the industry. The creation of the industrial loom alters the fashion, not the other way round. The availability of elastic changes the fashion, not the other way around. The changing climate and changing needs of the wearer (hard-wearing clothes for labourers, etc.) changes the fashion, not the other way around. Fashion is an intersection of culture, environment and industry; it can be used as a tool for politics and market demand, same as any cultural artefact, but it needs to be practical within its environment. If wearing barrier layers became popular again, then the clothing that people wore would be clothing that they find comfortable and good looking over barrier layers.
From the context of this post I assume you're alluding to European feudal and pre-industrial clothing, although high quality fabric has existed for most of human history in societies that did and did not wear barrier layers, but I'm not sure what you mean by 'the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit'. A nun's habit had the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit. I'm not a historian but I can't think of any society of the type you're alluding to where everyday clothing would be equivalent to a nun's habit in any way beyond being, y'know, clothes. What do you mean by this? (Also, people back then also wore a great many styles of clothing; I'm not sure why you list that as a specifically modern thing.)
Modern fashion, on the whole, absolutely does not strive to be gender neutral, but if it did, this would not in any way restrict fabric quality or the use of barrier layers. Men's and women's clothing of yore were both looked after.
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For those who don't know, the death cap (Amanita phalloides) is one of five mushrooms, along with four Amanita species known colloquially as destroying angels, that I refer to collectively as the "deadly Amanitas". They all contain amatoxins that cause massive cell death in your liver within a few hours of consuming them, and half a cap can kill a healthy adult. There's no reliable cure, and all that can be offered is supportive care in the hopes you don't end up needing a liver transplant or simply dying.
This is why I bang the drum of identification so hard in my foraging classes. It is NOT enough to just look at a bunch of photos of mushrooms; you HAVE to be able to carry out a detailed observation of the physical characteristics of a mystery mushroom and then be able to use your observations in conjunction with LOTS of tools (not just one app or one field guide) to arrive at a positive I.D. You don't need to be a scientist to do this; you just need patience, critical thinking skills, and lots of practice.
I also want to emphasize, once again, that you should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever use an ID app as your only tool, even if it's a really solid one like iNaturalist. Apps can be wrong more than occasionally, and I treat iNat as a way to get some suggested species to look into that might match my mystery mushroom, not the end point of identification.
There's no minimum number of field guides you should use, either; I've heard the assertion that if three field guides agree it must be right, but what if there's been new information that's come out since they were published? Apps, field guides, websites, blogs, journal articles, online foraging groups, other foragers in-person, classes--these are all the many resources available to you, and if you are relying on only one, you're much more likely to end up with a dangerous misidentification.
I see my job as a foraging instructor as doing my very best to make sure you don't end up as yet another cautionary tale, not just show you a bunch of pretty pictures. We have multiple examples of people who, for example, misidentified a poisonous mushroom with an app and ended up seriously regretting it. We don't know the whole story here, but it wouldn't surprise me if that's what occurred in this instance.
Be careful, be thorough, and when in doubt, throw it out. You can also contact me any time if you want my opinion on the ID of a particular mushroom--but DO NOT take my word as your only source!
#foraging#mushroom#mushrooms#fungus#fungi#mushroom poisoning#death#death mention#mushroom foraging#mushroom hunting#death caps#nature#nature identification
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