#apologies if The Thing's dialogue is hard to read it was the only way I could think of to make her sound Off In Some Way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ceruleanchillin · 1 year ago

Text

But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)

Note(s) -

It's long, so be warned.

The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.

Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory.

I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.

And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.

Simon:

Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.

You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.

You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.

Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.

Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.

You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.

He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’

As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.

‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?

You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer.

He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.

He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.

He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.

You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.

You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.

“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”

He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.

“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.

Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.

“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.

“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.

The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.

You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him.

You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”

He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”

You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”

You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing.

Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”

“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”

He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.

For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.

“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”

The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.

That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.

You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.

After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by.

Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation.

Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.

You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).

It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.

He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator.

Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.

On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.

The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.

Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.

Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.

You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.

If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.

You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.

It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.

You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.

Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.

The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.

Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”

You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”

“You wanna ride there on the roof?”

The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.

Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two.

Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.

He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.

To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.

He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often.

Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.

When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together.

One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours.

It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.

Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on.

You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically.

On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”

Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”

He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”

“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.”

Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”

You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”

He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.

You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.

The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him.

Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.

There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else.

When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.

Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.

He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.

The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.

All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.

You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.

You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.

You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.

Then came the topic of your boyfriend.

“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price

“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap

“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz

It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’

During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.

Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.

“Have fun with the boys, bird?”

“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.

Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.

He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you.

“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”

You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.

Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.

You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”

“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”

Kyle:

He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.

Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.

The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.

“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price

“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)

Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.”

Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.

You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.

You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.

His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.

He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:

“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”

“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”

He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”

“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.

“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”

He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.

“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time.

Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.

“You’ll get it next time, love.”

He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.

“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”

“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.

Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was.

He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”

Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.

“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.

“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”

Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.

This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of.

When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.

He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.

He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.

When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.

It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.

He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.

“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.

“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”

Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.

You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.

He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.

Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.

You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.

“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”

You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”

Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”

Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”

“Blud, that’s not what you want.”

“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead.

“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.

Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.

He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate.

“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”

Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’

“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.

He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.

“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.

“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.

Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.

He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.

“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide.

Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.

“Yes ma'am.”

Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.

Johnny:

You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.

You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.

Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you.

You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.

The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it.

He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing.

He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back.

When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.

It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.

Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.

He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.

“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.

“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”

You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”

“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”

Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.

Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.

“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.

He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.

You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”

“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”

You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.

“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!”

Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”

Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space.

“We’ll see.”

Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.

It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend.

You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.

Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.

“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours.

You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.

He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”

You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.

John Price:

Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.

The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.

That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.

You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.

He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”

“Yes.”

“Well…thank you for your service.”

Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.

Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.

Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”

“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.”

“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.

John wanted to see him try just one.

“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”

You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.

Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him.

“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.

Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to.

However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.

It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.

One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.

“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.

“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.

He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.

You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding.

He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.

“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”

There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.

With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that.

Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.

There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile.

Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place.

“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”

And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.

He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.

You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.

Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.

Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.

He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.

Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.

The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.

You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.

Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.

Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.

The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.

At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.

Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.

It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.

He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.

“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.

It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth.

Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?

Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”

Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.

“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”

John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward.

“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”

“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.

“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”

“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.

He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”

“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.

“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).”

You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.

He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.

It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.

“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”

In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-

“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”

“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”

“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”

Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”

There it was. John swallowed, hard.

“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”

John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Just one time.”

It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.

He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back.

“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”

What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.

He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.

John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.

He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?

How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?

The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.

When he stepped into the hall, he paused.

You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.

“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”

“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.

You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”

You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.

“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.

“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.

“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.

“I would hope not.” he also took another step

You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.

“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.

You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”

#141 x reader #cod #call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price #reader insert #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #Soap #soap x reader #tf 141 x reader #fem reader

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months ago

Text

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

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themeraldee · 2 months ago

Text

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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yuurei20 · 1 year ago

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Hi! I've seen some posts going around about Epel's accent and Vil correcting him. From what I gathered Epel has a pretty farmland accent that can be basically indecipherable so Vil being hard on him for it is both 'this is kind of casual' and 'i have no idea what you're saying' but could still be kind of elitist/classist. But I see some people saying Vil is just correcting Epel because he's swearing a lot?

Thank you so much for this question! Reading through just the EN adaptation of Book 5, I think I can understand why people might be annoyed by Vil’s wording: in English, he says outright that Epel should “speak properly,” as if his natural dialect is somehow improper and objectively “wrong.”

But his original line is closer to, “Speak more politely”! (The translations in these images are just more literal rewordings of the original dialogue, not meant to be corrections or improvements over EN’s localization)

I think the game was aware of the risk it was taking by having Vil give such an order, which is why it has Epel immediately jump to that assumption himself, so that Vil can explain it is not Epel’s hometown pride he has an issue with, but rather the outdated mindset that comes with it.

While softened on EN, Epel is quite misogynistic in the original game. He also repeats the same insult three times, possibly as an example of his limited vocabulary, which is another of Vil’s projects.

While Epel does say that Vil has told him not to use the accent specifically, Vil explains that he just wants him to consider the time, place and occasion for it.

Question: But then why does Vil order him to drop the accent entirely if the only problem is that he’s speaking rudely? Surely he can just speak politely while keeping his accent?

Answer: There is another layer to this that is more difficult to explain in English, but I shall try!

The Japanese language has multiple verb forms that change depending upon who you’re talking to at the time. “Meshiagaru,” ��taberu” and “kuu” are three different ways to say “eat,” for example, depending on how polite you want to be.

In the beach scene (and anywhere we get his Harveston dialect), Epel immediately shifts into casual/impolite verb forms.

I searched for the most formal interaction involving characters speaking in the Harveston dialect that I could find (where the mayor is apologizing to Marja), and even there, the character was using casual/informal verb forms.

So that is what Vil is actually getting at: he wants Epel to use polite speech around his senpai and teachers, but Epel’s original dialect might just not adhere to that system.

The Harveston dialect clearly has its own ways to denote politeness, which must make sense when you’re there, but outside of Harveston what is a harmless and natural way of speaking becomes offensive from the perspective of everyone else (when Marja adapts her speaking patterns so that the visiting NRC students can understand her, she uses polite forms).

Not able to have a student from his dorm obliviously insulting everyone around him through his verb forms, Vil bans Epel’s accent entirely, presumably so that Epel can grow more accustomed to interacting with people from other countries and then learn to judge for himself the times, places and occasions outside of Harveston where that degree of informality is appropriate :>

(Omake: I conferred with an American friend who told me it sounds like this is the opposite of how things are in the US, where sometimes it is assumed that people from more rural communities use more polite speech (using "sir" and ma'am") than people in cities, so they visit cities and are surprised by forms are expression that are considered rude where they come from. This is the same, but backwards! Epel is going from a laidback rural village to a more populated location where polite speech is expected of everyone, and is experiencing culture shock as a result.)

#anon #twisted wonderland #Epel Felmier #Vil Schoenheit

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maybankswhore · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎.

SUMMARY: you see rafe for the first time since getting together with jj & it doesn’t hurt.

PAIRING(S): jj maybank x fem!reader + a little bit of rafe cameron x fem!reader.

WARNINGS: cursing.

you can read part one here! but it’s not really needed to read for this particular plot. this isn’t proofread & it is a bit long so maybe a dragging on dialogue warning ha.

Things had went really good with you and JJ. It had almost felt like a breath of fresh air , peaceful. He was always kind to you and loving , always making sure to dote on you even when you complained about it— picking you up after every shift at work and learning to braid your hair so you didn’t have to do it because you always whined about it hurting your arms. It was the little things that caused your heart to grow fonder and before you knew it , the two of you became attached at the hip.

Everyone on the island could see the red hearts following you two around wherever you went , always swooning and smiling when they saw you.

JJ had been the happiest he had ever been with you. As cliché as it sounded— he’d go on and on to anyone that asked about you that you literally were the girl of his dreams. He adored everything about you from the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed really hard , to the way you always slept with one leg out from under the covers. You were kind , and loving and everything he always swore he’d never get. Most of all— he felt safe.

Today his arm was thrown around you as you and the rest of the Pogue’s stood around the bonfire. Your giggles were contagious to everyone around you as you humored JJ’s antics , finding every joke to be the most funny. Perhaps it was a tad bit annoying , but you really just found JJ’s personality so fun. He always knew how to lighten the mood and make a joke that turned everyone’s day around.

In the middle of JJ leaning down to whisper in your ear , your eye’s flickered over to Sarah when she groaned loudly. “Of course he’s here.”

Your stomach had flipped as you followed her eyes to the side of you. Her brother stood a few feet away from you with his friends , watching you. You were shocked to see him. He usually never came on this side of the island , always rambling on about how ‘disgusting’ it was and ran by Pogue’s. You hadn’t meant to make eye contact with him , but when you did your stomach had began flipping in knots.

“I’m sorry , Y/N/N. I didn’t know he was coming or I would’ve said something.” Sarah apologized. The sound of her voice finally made you break away and look at her , shaking your head with a smile.

“It’s fine , Sarah.”

JJ scoffed. “Like hell it is.” His grip tightened around your shoulders protectively , shooting Rafe glares that was only answered in cocky smirks. “He really has some nerve showing his face here.”

Your bottom lip became trapped between your teeth as you anxiously fell into JJ’s embrace , wrapping your own arm around his waist to settle his nerves. “Let’s not worry about him , alright?”

JJ glanced down at you and studied your face quickly. What was he looking for? He wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe it was him just being insecure or stupidly jealous , but he knew that Rafe had once been your everything. John B had told him numerous times the stories he’d heard from Sarah and how much you cried over him , how much the two of you would fight. JJ wasn’t an idiot and he knew relationships like that left their mark , but feeling you nuzzle yourself innocently into him while looking up at him with a small smile caused his shoulders to relax slowly. “’m okay. Fine. But he says one wrong things and it’s over—”

Sensing all of his tension melt away , you grinned and stood up as tall as you could to press a kiss to your cheek. You tried to ignore the way Rafe’s eyes burned in the back of your skull. It wasn’t that you were ashamed or uncomfortable— you just didn’t want any drama or conflict. You had avoided it thus far and you wanted to do your best to keep it that way despite Rafe being known as the biggest drama queen on the island.

JJ cheeks blushed that color pink you loved seeing. One that always coated his cheeks after every kiss , even though you had done it so many times before that. The butterflies were still very much alive.

The night went on pretty peacefully. You had drank a little but not enough to be absolutely intoxicated. The six of you had ended up sitting on the logs rather than standing , each pair engrossed in their own conversations. JJ wasn’t too far from you , laughing loudly with Pope and John B. You , Sarah , and Kiara huddled together giggling amongst yourselves.

“John B let me do his makeup the other night.” Sarah confessed with a girlish giggle , her eyes becoming slightly hooded from the drinks she had. Her confession made you and Kiara burst into laughter.

“Please tell me you took a picture of that.” Kiara clapped her knee , doubled over with laughter.

“Sadly I couldn’t. It was a part of the deal.” Sarah sighed sadly. “For my eyes only! Literally. I couldn’t even take a picture and hide it in a folder.”

The pout on her face made you chuckle before pulling out your own phone. You quickly searched for the picture of JJ that you had taken not too long ago , a full face of makeup on. After bugging him for days , JJ had finally given in. “Your man sucks , tell him get like mine.” You teased , giving your phone to them to see the picture of JJ posing proudly.

The picture had sent them over the edge. The expression on JJ’s face as he posed for you , holding out a peace sign and popping out his hip that you had for one of your Instagram pictures.

“Send that to me now.” Kiara snatched the phone away from Sarah to send it to herself. “This is definitely gonna come in handy one day.”

Gasping , you ripped the phone out of her hand before she could press send. “He’d never let me do it again if you did that.” You argued.

Kiara struggled to speak through her laughter. “Yeah right! He’d do anything you’d tell him to.”

“That boys got it bad.” Sarah drawled out , singing the last word softly. Kiara nodded in agreement making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah whatever.” You sighed.

Sarah quirked an eyebrow at you. “Oh come on , Y/N. You’ve gotta know he’d get down on all fours and bark if you wanted.”

“Can we actually see that?” Kiara teased. “Please tell him to do that and let me know when so I can get my camera ready.”

“You guys , leave him alone!” Defending JJ , you glanced over at him to check on him. His hands were frailed in the area around him as he told whatever story he was telling passionately , and you couldn’t help but watch him with a smile.

Kiara pretended to throw up. “You guys are so fucking disgusting.”

“I think it’s adorable.” Sarah cooed , making you grin at her. “I never seen you that happy with my brother.” She said while crinkling her nose. The drinks making her tongue loose. The mention of Rafe made your blood run cold , the whole relationship still stinging at a certain part of you. You were over him— completely , but he damaged a big part of you. She must’ve noticed your face fall and her eyes widened in shame. “Oh shit , I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be.” You brushed it off.

“Yeah don’t be.”

You jumped at the sound of Rafe’s voice booming behind you. Those three words making everyone’s head snap towards him. Before you had a chance to say anything JJ was on his feet , walking right over to you. “The fuck are you doing?”

JJ’s hand wrapped around your bicep and gently helped pull you up , bringing you as close to him as he could. He kept his shoulders square and his jaw up , showing Rafe who was in charge.

Rafe chuckled lowly and put his hands up defensively. “What? Can’t come see my sister?”

“Don’t use me as your excuse , Rafe.” Sarah snapped at him , annoyed her brother was yet again— causing more drama with her friends.

“Yeah we all know you’re here to be some creep and stalk , Y/N.” Kiara snarled towards him. Her hands were in fists at her sides.

Rafe ignored them and discarded them with the roll of his eyes. They flickered to JJ’s attitude , then to his arm on your shoulder then back to your face. He was quiet for a minute as he thought of what to say. Though you could barely meet his eyes. “So that’s why you blocked my number.” Rafe’s nose scrunched at the thought of you with JJ , disgust dripping off his words. “Thought you had better taste than that.”

“You got a problem , man?” JJ’s arm was off of you as fast as it was put there. Bucking up to Rafe who didn’t so much as flinch.

“Let me talk to her.” Was all he said.

“Not gonna happen , Cameron.” JJ laughed bitterly. He made sure to stand in front of you , blocking you away from him.

“Why?” Rafe cocked his head to the side. “Scared that’s all it takes to have her come running back?”

JJ was fast as he lifted his arm but not fast enough for Pope to come to your defense , knowing that was the last thing you wanted. “JJ , bro , calm down.”

Taking in a shaky breath , you grabbed JJ’s shoulder to get his attention. The minute he felt you touch him , he spun around— ignoring Rafe’s existence. “Let’s just go , me and you.”

Nodding with a small smile you slid your arm down to his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I need to talk to Rafe first.” You muttered. JJ’s eyes went wide and immediately shook his head.

“Y/N , no.”

“JJ , yes.” You told him softly. You cupped his cheek gently in hopes it’d calm him down. “We’ll leave right after. We’ll leave.” You emphasized.

Rafe grumbled at the interaction in front of him. Like a child , he held his stomach like he was going to he physically ill from it but you ignored him.

JJ studied your face , scanning it for any sign he needed to worry. But your eyes were soft , and your touch felt genuine. He couldn’t help but sigh and nod , knowing that you needed that closure— and he’d even feel better knowing it was closed.

“If he touches you it’s over with.” JJ muttered before kissing your lips softly , holding it there as a message to Rafe.

When you pulled away , he stepped to the side and Rafe’s attention went to you— a smirk on his face. “I knew you’d come to your senses.”

“Shut up or I’m walking away from you.” You glared at him , walking away in the opposite direction knowing he’d follow. Rafe winked at JJ who flipped him off , and did as you expected.

You crossed your arms as you stood to face him , the sight of him didn’t make your heart clench , it didn’t make your throat close or your head hurt like crazy. Standing in front of you was just Rafe , not the Rafe you had once loved. Not the Rafe you spent months with— years , almost with. A person.

“I need you to know that it’s over you.”

“It’s not—”

“It is.” You cut him off with a shake of your head. “What happened between us means nothing to me anymore and frankly , you mean nothing to me.” Instead of hurt , you felt angry. Angry that he had the nerve to walk up to your group of friends , that he thought it’d be light hearted and quirky and somehow gain your attention once again.

“You don’t mean that.” Rafe shrugged. “You’ve had your fun , okay? We’ll work it out. I forgive you for messing with that dirty little Pogue and you can forgive me about what happened—” He went to move closer but you backed away.

“No.” Firmly standing your ground , you looked him in the eyes. “I don’t forgive you for what happened and believe me I tried that ‘forgive but don’t forget’ bullshit but you don’t deserve for me to forget. You hurt me , Rafe. You really hurt me. I loved you so much and you did time and time again. I loved you and you took advantage of that so honestly— fuck you.” Your pointer finger stared at him accusingly. “Fuck you for wasting my fucking time. This is it. This is the closure and after this I never want to talk to you again.”

Rafe stared at you like you had grown a third head. In all the time he had known you , he had never seen you like this. So bold and outspoken. You weren’t that timid girl who was too afraid to order her own meal at a restaurant anymore. “You don’t love him.” Was all he could say , his tongue poking his cheek. He wouldn’t show it and he wouldn’t say it— but it hurt him more than he thought it would. Maybe he never thought you’d get over him. Maybe he assumed you’d take him right back and blow off whatever guy was occupying your time. Sure it had been a couple months , but you couldn’t have fallen in love. You couldn’t have.

“I–I do.” Though you hadn’t admitted it to JJ just yet , you knew that you did. “And it’s right this time.”

“JJ Maybank?” Rafe said his name like it was the most outlandish thing in the world. “Really?”

“Really , Rafe. He doesn’t cheat on me at every party. He doesn’t laugh at me when I cry because the movie’s sad. He lets me listen to whatever I want in the car and he laughs at my jokes. He likes when I wear that red dress and heels. He loves me for all that I am and never tries to change that.” Everything had seemed to make sense in your head as you explained it to him , saying it out loud like that.

“Y/N—”

“You don’t love me , Rafe. You loved how I loved you.” You told him with your voice going softer. “But I know somewhere inside of you is capable of loving someone the way JJ loves me and when you find her , don’t make out with every girl you see and take lines of their ass.” You laughed , laughed at something that once broke your heart into a million pieces but now it humorous to you. Healed.

Rafe couldn’t find the words to say. His mouth couldn’t even open at that. He just stood there and watched you walk away back into JJ’s arms who instinctively wrapped around you , rubbing up and down the skin. He watched as he kissed you and the way you wrapped your arms around his neck , giggling and blushing like you once did with him.

It was too late to be sorry and he realized that.

You had started over. You began to fall in love all over again and Rafe was old news to you now— and it hurt a little more than he realized it would.

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catscidr · 11 months ago

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HIIII CAN I GET DOTTORE(WEBTOON VER) X READER (fluff if u want) PLS..... where ur his assistant (besides krupp, like reader and krupp are both his assistant) and he so clearly has favoritism towards reader, bro is SMITTEN. have a good day... :D

this is sorta taking place right when the manga starts, right before dottore and the gang have a meeting about fatui stuff n all. also spoilers for the manga kinda if u haven't read it already?? i threw krupp under the bus a lot but its to make up for the fact that he’s alive in this lmaoa sry to any krupp lovers out there (′ʘ⌄ʘ‵) also there’s a lot of buildup n world building kinda im sorry i got in the zone HAHA ALSO MB THIS TOOK A WHILE TO WRITE i was drowning in leftover dessert from the holidays and was in a food coma for a couple o days. forgive me nonnie but u can get ur food now ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: reader is overwhelmed, not proofread i just went ham. not too much dialogue it's mostly unspoken bc webttore is an "actions > words" kinda man includes: fem reader, webttore, krupp, diluc mentionned wc: 1,7k

The mission was a complete and utter disaster.

All three of you were supposed to attend the Ragnvindr ball with a simple goal; blend in as much as possible, gather intel on the Knights of Favonius and leave without a hitch. Of course, that wasn’t an easy task considering Dottore’s eccentric and unpredictable personality and Krupp being a thorn in your side at best.

Things started going downhill before you had even left your private quarters. While you were getting ready, carefully blinking as you brushed your mascara into your lashes to blend them in with your fake ones, you were startled by a loud, quick series of knocks on your door, making you smudge the dark pigment on your eyelid. Seeing the look on your face, Krupp had apologized (halfheartedly) before leaving you to your devices, seemingly forgetting why he had even interrupted you in the first place. You tried to convince yourself that it was fine, it was an easy fix anyways- but you couldn’t help but get irritated by your coworker’s behaviour at the very least.

The next accident happened when the three of you had stepped out of the carriage in front of the Ragnvindr mansion. Masquerading as Dottore’s concubine, he held your hand to help you out of the caravan. That in it of itself was fine; the texture of his velvet glove was nice, the warmth emanating from his hand was even nicer and you swore you saw his face soften at the sight of you carefully stepping down the singular stair, leg jutting out as you balanced yourself on the cobblestone path on your heels. But Krupp just had to step on the back of your dress, a brown footprint now adorning the periwinkle frilly trail of your gown. The only good thing that came out of it was Dottore moving his hand to your waist and swiveling you to his side, fixing his assistant with a hard glare that could kill.

Then, after you had gotten most of the dirt out of your dress (with the help of a kind butler), your trio stepped into the venue, splitting into two groups. Krupp would blend in with a group of nobles whereas you and Dottore, arms linked together, would speak to people in the Knights directly. Eyeing your coworker in the crowd, you saw him courteously kiss the back of a noblewoman’s hand; despite the slight look of disgust crossing your face, he seemed to be doing well with the mission.

However, it seemed that whatever Archon was watching over you then didn’t appreciate the lack of drama. As Dottore introduced the both of you to a platinum-haired man, he had gotten his shoulder shoved by what had appeared to be a new hire from the manor (at least, you assumed so considering the way he had immediately gotten yelled at by a lady older than him).

You yelped when the Harbinger spilled his drink all over the front of your dress, some champagne sliding down your chest leaving an uncomfortable, sticky feeling on your skin. Cheeks reddening from embarrassment and frustration, you brush away his frantic apology as you storm out, grabbing a handful of napkins on a nearby table while making your way to the closest bathroom.

Thankfully it wasn’t hard to find, not with a maid offering to help you (she had gotten turned down but kindly pointed you in the right direction at the very least). Patting your skin dry, you burst into the surprisingly empty bathroom and assessed the damage.

That’s where you are currently.

Staring at the state of your previously pristine appearance you can’t help but tear up. Sure, this was just for a mission, and you could just wipe away the booze as much as you could and go back to do your job. But the one time you get to dress nice, the one time you can rid yourself of that ugly, stuffy uniform and feel pretty... had to be ruined by men. While it wasn’t exactly Dottore’s fault that he spilled his drink all over your dress, you still felt mad at Krupp for stepping on it when you all had first arrived. Was it petty to still be upset about it? Yes. Were your feelings justified? Also yes.

Being the Doctor’s assistant was a chore. A challenge, sometimes. He was demanding, strict and you often had to walk on eggshells around him to avoid setting him off. Whenever it happened, he’d start ranting and raving about how incompetent everyone in the fatui was- although, he’d never point a finger at you, usually Krupp was on the receiving end of his bite (even if he wasn’t even included in the conversation).

Knowing him well enough to understand his moods and personality had its perks. Unfortunately, it also had its drawbacks- those being how, naturally, your boss would also know how to read your mood surprisingly well. Dottore was known to be mean and ruthless to anyone he crossed path with, however, he’s always had a soft spot for you.

Sometimes it was obvious that he did, but sometimes it was like he saw your coworker’s face instead of your own- scowling at your mistakes and scolding you harshly for mixing in the wrong powder in a flask. Whenever that happened, you could almost forget how he was able to hold you so gently, as if you were a glass sculpture ready to break if even the slightest breeze hit you. But if he were to be described with one word, you’d never call him dense- as entitled as he could be, the Harbinger was still (maybe surprisingly) quite well-versed in human emotions.

You barely hear your name being called in the distance, muffled by the sound of the angelic piano and violin in the main area. Too caught up in your thoughts, you continue seething and aggressively rubbing away the sticky residue on your chest, muttering some choice words about your coworker and your boss.

The door to the women’s bathroom flies open, revealing a frustrated but concerned Dottore, his curly hair a mess from how often he must have run his hand through it while he ran to find you. Uncaring of how he was intruding on your moment and how he was in the women’s restroom, he stomps over to you, gloved hands coming down to your shoulders as he closes the distance between you so he can look at the damage properly.

He doesn’t speak for what felt like minutes, leaving your heart to pound in a mix of shock (who wouldn’t get scared at the sight of a Harbinger slamming a door open?) and nervousness. One of his hands come down to move your own that still held onto the (now damp) napkins as he stared at the front of your dress.

The sweetheart cut of your dress was soaked, the edge and thin lace sticking to your skin, light indigo dye appearing darker because of the stain. Snapping out of your frozen stupor, you push his hand away and bring your hands back up to cover your chest, flustered from how hard he was staring with those blank, crimson eyes.

“...You’re in the wrong bathroom,” you murmur, unsure of how to get him to leave you alone without possibly setting him off. Dottore’s eyes flicker up to your side profile, his expression still freakishly unreadable.

You suddenly feel both of his hands on your cheeks as he manhandles you to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. Unable to bring yourself to stay mad, tears prick at your eyes, and you look down. Holding his gaze was impossible, not when you’ve been feeling humiliated since the start of the evening. He doesn’t comment on your sorrow, keeping on staring at you intently.

“I can always buy you a new, nicer dress if that’s what you want,” you hear him say, voice uncharacteristically quiet, and maybe even... unsure?

You shake your head softly, sniffling.

“No? Why are you upset, then?”

Hearing him so utterly confused, puzzled, perplexed made you even more frustrated. Furious, even. With your emotions all over the place and a newfound fury blazing in your limbs you snatch his hands off from your face and stomp out of the bathroom, shouting I’m waiting in the carriage! before stepping out into the chilly Mondstadtian evening breeze.

Dottore stood there, brows furrowed and mouth agape in confusion as he blinked at your retreating figure. He didn’t have the chance to go after you because, as if on cue, Krupp interrupted the show.

“I gathered some juicy intel, boss! Those Knights are incredibly foolish for being so loose lipped,” the mustached man declares proudly, acutely unaware of the stuffy atmosphere. Maybe not completely unaware, but he’s for sure ignoring it if he noticed it. Instead of hearing him out though, Dottore scoffs and walks into him, shoving him to the side with a scowl.

“Don’t waste my time with your useless boasting. We’re leaving,” the Harbinger all but groaned, running a hand through his hair, stress emanating from him in waves. His assistant catches up to him, stuttering out a Of course sir! as he opens the door for him, his shoes digging into the cobblestone path.

Dottore immediately looks at your sat figure, chin in your palm, looking out of the window. The sight would make him melt if it weren’t for his other assistant’s presence a mere meter away from him. He says your name quietly, softly enough that no one other than you can hear and Krupp steps into the carriage, shouting directions to the driver.

“Can I stay in the lab next time?” you grumble, refusing to turn around and look at your boss and coworker. Krupp opens his mouth to scold you, but Dottore beats him to it, shooting him a sharp glare, lips curling down in a frown.

“You can,” he answers you while still looking at his employee. “In fact, it’ll give me an opportunity to properly teach my other assistant some manners,” he adds, practically growling the sentence. Krupp swallows thickly and pretends to not be involved in the conversation, looking away nervously. On the opposite side of the plush seat, you hide the smile creeping its way onto your features.

Ignoring the way your heart swelled, you inwardly celebrate your small victory. Dottore could be brash and cruel, but you’ll always cherish the moments when he shows you some lenience. Especially when it’s at the cost of your coworker’s imprudence.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #anytime i think of webttore i just remember that one panel where he’s literally like ◉_◉#thats what i had in mind when he was looking at reader’s dress in the bathroom lmaoaghfns #dottore x afab reader

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ryuichirou · 1 month ago

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What do you think about Lilia and Idia's chats? I know you ship them but did they affect you in any way?

Sorry for the late reply, Anon!

This is one of those asks that I really went “oh no I have to think about this one properly, this is a very important topic” lol But it’s probably for the best because today is kind of a perfect day for me to write about this particular topic.

As always, I ended up talking a whole lot, so I hope you enjoy reading it. I’ll try not to digress too much!

Short answer would be yes of course it affected me: I’m pretty sure it was one of the main reasons why I started shipping them in the first place.

As someone who crawled out of Homestuck’s cradle (and will stay there forever at least in some capacity), I really love it when characters chat. I think all of us act a bit differently when we’re on the internet, even if we’re trying to be 100% honest, or at least we are perceived a bit differently. And when you have two characters who know each other irl, but also know each other online as different people, and one of them is crushing hard, it creates such an interesting dynamic… so beautiful.

It’s very interesting to see Idia swooning so hard. He doesn’t act that way around anybody else, even people he is kind of close with (Azul is the only example but), which contrasts nicely to his usual snarky antisocial self. I love it a lot when this type of character gets very into someone and ends up being a bit tormented by his own inner demons: he craves to be closer to that person, he wants to spend more time together, but he is scared that the moment he accepts his feeling he’s going to get hurt. He is terrified of being vulnerable, but Muscle Crimson makes him so happy that he just can’t help himself. Idia is so cynical and pessimistic, he already accepted the fact that he’ll stay lonely forever, and yet whenever Lilia appears, he gets hopeful, romantic and longing. Very Megara of you, Idia lol

What doesn’t help is that no matter what Muscle Crimson does, somehow it only makes him more perfect in Idia’s eyes…

For starters, in ch6 Idia said that one of the things he loves most about Muscle Crimson is that he never oversteps and is very understanding of him, and how he is very natural in a way he expresses things. What I’m trying to say is that Idia never feels like he has to explain himself or push himself, like MC always gets it and never pries into his affairs. This is the thing that Idia usually struggles with the most: social expectations, the pacing of a conversation, the arbitrary rules of how two people should communicate; and he doesn’t have those issues with MC whatsoever. It’s very easy for him to talk with MC because the moment this usual obstacle isn’t present, Idia is suddenly very eager to connect with another person. MC is chill, MC is nice, MC is mature and MC isn’t needy. We see it so much with their online conversations, it’s incredible.

I also really love their chats because they very nicely show what exactly Idia wants from a relationship. Whenever I talk about Idia’s ideal type, Idia’s love language, Idia’s anything, I always end up talking about it: Idia loves quality time and sharing things that he loves with others, so the fact that he can play videogames with Lilia is massively important for him, but this isn’t the only thing. In Idia’s dorm uniform vignette (god that vignette is such a feast for a multishipper), Idia gets so excited because MC not only agreed to listen to his favourite band, but also was engaged enough to express that he wants to listen to them! On his own volition! Azul-shi who didn’t even bother to listen to their music that Idia kindly brought to him should take notes!

I’m sorry but let’s take a look at this dialogue (official translation from wiki but I just want to make a point okay):

Ah, I see. My apologies for not being well-informed on the topic.

NP! sorry for rambling about something you don't care about lol

Imagine ranting to someone about your oshiis, and instead of being annoyed or politely agreeing with you, the person goes “oh I’m sorry that I haven’t heard about them”. Of course, Idia’s instinct is to pull back a little and to apologise for his rambling and to joke about MC not being interested – not as a jab at Lilia, but as a jab at himself instead for bothering him with unnecessary information.

And instead of just letting the conversation go to some other lane (which would’ve been a bit sad, but ultimately not that bad because Lilia’s initial response wasn’t an annoyed one), for some reason, MC does this of all things:

Actually, after seeing how passionate you are about them...

My interest in this Premo group has been thoroughly piqued.

you're already interested just from hearing me drone on and on?

you're like the nicest guy. i'd give you 100 rare drops if i could

Would you recommend a particular song for a first-time listener?

Not only he didn’t get a “ehhh yeah cool”, but he also got a “send me their songs” instead. It’s like Lilia is actively trying to lure this poor otaku boy into his embrace lol But the best thing is that it is so casual and genuine, even Idia-the-biggest-cynic doesn’t feel like he is just trying to be nice about it. And as I always say, despite being a hikikomori, Idia is good at reading people, and someone as insecure as he is would’ve definitely thought that MC was just being nice. But he didn’t, instead he got super excited about it. The boy is so smitten he’s melting as we speak...

And not only that! When in that exact vignette some shenanigans happen with the website of the band, and Idia gets upset about it, MC is so quick to cheer him up and comfort him. It’s interesting with Lilia because he really is wise and mature, but sometimes he doesn’t quite know what to say to comfort someone?? There are some areas in which he is a bit clumsy, I guess, but it seems like when it comes to Gloomy Samurai, it feels like he knows him super well. How his mind and emotion operates, what makes him upset. It’s sweet that he is very eager to support him and feels genuinely bad for him; we’re even shown Lilia himself in his own room being troubled that his online buddy might get depressed over what happened. It’s just so… sweet?? I don’t think Idia had anyone other than Ortho support him like that before. I’ll talk about Lilia in general in a moment though.

One last thing about this vignette is that I wanted to talk about is this little exchange:

it'd be so cool if we could meet up IRL...

Oh? Well, if you wish to meet offline, I'd gladly visit whenever you like.

oh nonononono, i live in a super remote place rn!

i'd have to take planes, trains, buses, and boats to go p. much anywhere

meeting up would be a whole THING...

Imagine Idia fucking Shroud not only having a gaming buddy he is excited to talk to, and not only entertaining the idea of meeting said buddy irl, but also EXPRESSING THIS IDEA OUTLOUD? And once again, he is met with enthusiasm, because OF COURSE MC wouldn’t mind hanging out irl! And the moment he gets that response, he pulls back once again, keeping his distance, being anxious and overwhelmed by the possibility of meeting up with MC. It’s incredibly interesting to see Idia acting this way, and once again it shows just how much he doesn’t want to ruin what they have right now. Let’s be honest, it’s not just the fact that he is in NRC; he would’ve easily traveled somewhere if he needed to, they have portals, for fuck’s sake, although not for personal usage. In this convo Idia does what Idia does all the time in their chats: he dares to express interest in MC’s irl affairs, and then gets terrified that MC won’t like it, or MC will answer and somehow this newfound knowledge will ruin something, or that things will get weird: Idia just doesn’t want to risk breaking this balance between them that is super fragile in his eyes.

I love him being so unsure and anxious. I love him being invested and infatuated, but also being so afraid to get hurt. It’s like Lilia is taming him little by little… which isn’t intentional on Lilia’s part lol He’s just hanging out with the guy he likes to hang out with! And the guy is out there falling in love deeper and deeper with every single one of their chat.

But the thing is, this is still not completely one-sided. It’s just that we tend to focus on Idia during these chats, and Idia is really crushing hard on Lilia, but when we’re shown Lilia’s side in his Suitor Suit vignette, we have a little more info on how he feels.

I find it interesting that after Idia’s little rant about how marriage in-game is a stupid mechanic and that it’s such a pain, Lilia changes his mind about asking Idia if he wanted to get married in-game… for unlocking an achievement of course. Which is SUCH A SHAME because Idia would’ve gone full 180 on this topic and would’ve accepted his proposal so fucking hard lol After learning just how much Idia pulls back and rambles, the whole thing really feels like Idia thinking that someone like MC would never ask him for something like this, and how suggesting it himself would’ve been stupid: what if MC thinks that he’s weird or clingy or cringe? So he threw the ball to Lilia’s side of the court so aggressively, that Lilia just figured that Idia hated the idea in general and didn’t want to play with him at all… SUCH A SHAAAME.

But still, it shows that Lilia also doesn’t want to make Gloomy Samurai uncomfortable. Not from the place of extreme shyness, but from the place of loving hanging out with him and not wanting things to become too complicated.

But also!! It’s so interesting to compare the way they act and type. Lilia is so proper with his lack of emoticons, but he is still playful with his comments from time to time. So reliable, so mature, of course Idia’s mental portrait of Muscle Crimson is “older man who may or may not have a family and may or may not be a proper businessmen” lol The boy is talking to someone else’s husband and dad in his head… I also love moments during which Lilia just goes “oh yeah I used to wear armour for work” and Idia just assumes that he’s joking around. I want to see more of their chats ahhh! And I want the big reveal!!

On a personal note (you don’t have to read that part lol), I have my own sentimental reasons to be so into this whole thing. It feels very nostalgic because the whole dynamic, the situations, even the typing style to some degree, it all feels very similar to what we went through ages ago. I won’t point at Lilia and say “he’s just like me for real” because I definitely wasn’t as slick as him at the stupid age of 16, but I did try to have this mature image back then lol But also, just like Lilia, seriously underestimated just how much that antisocial sweetheart I enjoy talking to a lot is into me.

Those early stages of the growing and blossoming relationship, moments of pulling back, showing initiative, trying and being insecure about all those things: I can see it in them, especially in Idia. Since I was technically the Lilia of the situation, I feel such warmth witnessing those early steps in Idia, his crush and his doubts about the whole thing. It’s like… flirting, but not quite? Some other style of flirting that isn’t really noticeable until you really look at it. Since I myself was quite dense back then and, once again, didn’t notice a crush (that I was told about btw) for quite some time, I feel especially sorry for Idia and his pains LOL But also, especially hopeful~

It’s precious. I could’ve written something edgier or sexier but ultimately I feel like it’s very precious, at least to me lol I really love these two. And this is why I’m writing this post today of all days. Very sneaky of me.

Anyways, thank you so much for your question, Anon <3 I love these two a lot.

#replies #about characters #lilidia

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thievinghippo · 11 days ago

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So I promised a postmortem and it’s finally time! Here’s the TL:DR. I loved it. I can already tell I’ll probably have more played hours in this game than Inquisition, and I fucking loved Inquisition! Good, bad, and ugly beneath the cut and there will be heavy spoilers for the entire game, so read at your own risk. (This is also long, because I have a lot to say!)

THE GOOD

Rook. Once I let go of my preconceived notion of how Rook was (mid-40s and serious but kind) and accepted Rook for the young, sarcastic character they are, I fell in love. Edda is going to be an A possibly even S tier OC for me

The dwarves. We were fed so well, y’all. So much lore and dialogue choices. There was even a Grey Warden dwarf specific dialogue choice. I love the confirmation of what we all suspected with the Titans. I just wish that a dwarf Rook had the opportunity to confront Solas. He apparently apologizes to Harding. But what about a dwarf Rook?

Exploration. I’m an idiot when it comes to figuring out in-game puzzles and such. I’ve read some complaints that everything was far too easy, but for one of the first times I remember, I could do a vast majority of puzzles and finding treasures without consulting a game guide. And I was actually proud when I figured things out. When I play Edda again, I’m going to 100% the world and I cannot wait

The Companions. Bonus points for Emmrich Volkarin. I ended up loving all of them. Even the ones I was very ‘meh’ on before playing the game. Like Bellara. She was on my list to romance second to last. And she has moved up to third, after Emmrich and Davrin.

Emmrich Volkarin. Yes, he gets his own special mention. I love him so much that I created a second Rook to romance him. That way I have one Emmrich that is not a lich (Edda’s choices) and one Emmrich that is a lich (Sonnet’s choice). I love his compassion, his kindness, his reverence of the dead. I adore his romance and how clear it is that Rook has bewitched him, body and soul. The fact that they lean into the age gap and it becomes entwined with his own fears of death. He has my favorite personal quest. I loved the music, the atmosphere. How it pertains to his own journey, facing his mortality (plus Johanna Hezenkoss can get it). Plus it has the banger line of ‘Show them what a real necromancer can do!’ I even can’t wait not to romance him and see what the friendship is like and encourage him to hook up with Strife

The backgrounds. Granted, I’ve only played through the game 1.5 times, but there have been so many background mentions. Especially for the Grey Wardens. Mourn Watch has some great ones too. I mean, there was Grey Warden romance banter during a fight. In a side quest! I can’t wait to discover more

The character creator. I love how inclusive it is, especially when you compare it to previous Dragon Age games. The hair is beautiful (but where is my braid crown! my kingdom for a braid crown!) and I have overweight OCs, which make me very happy. Varric's shaving mirror is also amazing, and because I want EA to know that people are using these options, Sonnet is a trans woman who will save Thedas

THE BAD

Weird tonal switches. Emmrich and Harding are going to Ferelden so she can show him around but the South is being razed by darkspawn. Harding’s mom sends her back with pie and gives great hugs. How in the world are they getting to Ferelden? Rook was amazed to see the Inquisitor in the North so why would the members of the Veilguard be able to go to the South? Some of the codex entries are so dark and yet everyone is happy in the Lighthouse

Give Rook a problem, please! I kept waiting for Rook’s LI to go up to her and ask if there’s anything distracting her. If there’s any problem they could solve together. But that never came and Rook is apparently the only person on the team that can’t be distracted by their own problems. How amazing would it have been if Rook had some sort of personal quest. Maybe based on lineage. Or background. Something that shows that she matters as much to her companions and they mean to her

The Act One Choice. Still mad about it. Are you telling me that two extra people would have saved Minrathous? That a city full of the most powerful mages in the known world couldn’t take down a fucking dragon? It didn’t feel earned and it did annoy me a great deal

Let. Rook. Mourn. While I appreciate that Rook was able to mourn Varric and Davrin (in my playthrough) privately, the fact that it immediately jumps to a sex scene sort of bothered me. Especially Emmrich’s taking them to the Necropolis so they can bang in a coffin. This was not the time to leave the Lighthouse, Emmrich! The rest of the team got to mourn Davrin and worry about Neve together. I wish Rook could have been a part of that too.

Let’s talk Varric’s death. I didn’t see it coming. I actually ranted to a friend before I knew what happened that they should have killed him in the prologue if this was how they were going to use him. Oops. I hate how callous the truth about his death makes Rook look. I hate that Harding and Neve didn’t even really seem to mourn. Hate how the Inquisitor or Dorian or Isabela don’t mention him at all. I hate how obvious his death is in my second playthrough. I will have to fix this all in fanfic

THE UGLY

Assuming there is another DA game, where do we go from here? I really dislike the concept of the Executors in the secret ending. One thing I’m optimistic about is that by basically wiping the south off the map, we might be able to have more games there. Because everything will have been reset, so to speak. How does the South deal with the mages when they’ve all been fighting darkspawn for their lives? Put them back into Circles? I think not

I’m also not sure about what choices would move forward into a new DA game. Not talking companion choices, but choices that actually affect the world. No matter what we do, the Blight is over and the Veil is safe. If BioWare couldn’t be bothered to have the Well of Sorrows choice matter, I can’t imagine they’ll care how Solas was bound to the Veil, whether it be by choice, trickery, or force. Minrathous or Treviso is the only other non-companion choice I can think of that might possibly matter

But honestly, it doesn’t matter, because who knows if we’ll ever get another Dragon Age game? I know I would love one, but I have this sinking feeling there won’t be (please let me be wrong!)

So there you have it. I really love this game, good, bad, and ugly. And I found so much more to love than to dislike. I have a feeling I will be yelling about this game (and Emmrich!) for a long, long time

#hippo's dragon age tag #hippo's veilguard tag #dav #veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers

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kwanisms · 2 years ago

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Kinkuary 16 Chan — face fucking // deepthroating

➥ dom!Chan × service sub!Reader

summary: Chan can't believe his ears when his girlfriend comes to him, asking him to live out not only one but two of his fantasies. Of course he's gonna jump at the chance.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): dom!Chan, sub!Reader (she just wants to do a good job), oral (m receiving, f receiving), throat training, face fucking, deepthroating, cum swallowing, fingering, edging, use of pet names (a mix of baby, honey, angel, and slut lol), slight sir kink if you squint, Chan is a little hard but he takes care of the reader afterwards.

a/n: apologies for this being so late. I have no excuse except I'm exhausted and wanna die lol anyway hi, I'm back on my dom Lee Chan agenda. He is a dom and you will not change my mind lol this is a hill i will die on. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this installment of Kinkuary and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon

Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan

Seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @95cheols @niktwazny303 @indigo35 @moonlightsora @witherednotes @cixrosie @hoeforcheol

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

Join the taglist!

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"We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

You glanced up at Chan sitting before you, his hand moving to take your chin gently. "If you're nervous or scared," he added. "We don't have to do this." His genuine smile just made you more determined.

When you had approached him earlier with your demand, Chan nearly choked on his drink. He'd been standing in the kitchen of your apartment, drinking some water after a long workout with Soonyoung and Jihoon.

He'd just taken a shower and wanted to find something to eat when you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist while he looked through your fridge. "We could always order out," he murmured, eyes scanning the interior of your refrigerator but finding nothing caught his eye. You'd watched as he pulled from your grasp and pulled out his phone to scroll through nearby takeout places.

You'd gotten a serious look on your face before calling his name. He turned to give you his attention. "What's up?" he asked, lifting the bottle of water as you spoke.

"I want you to fuck my face."

He'd let out a choked sound, coughing as he set the bottle of water on the counter. You waited for his shock to subside. "You what?" he gasped. You blinked slowly before taking a deep breath.

"I want you to fuck my face," you repeated calmly.

Chan walked over to you, pressing a hand to your forehead and checking for a temperature. You assured him you were fine. "Where is this coming from?" he asked, taking your hands in his.

"You always talk about it when I go down on you and I finally put some thought into it and I want to try," you explained. Chan took your face in his hands, eyes looking into yours.

"You know you don't have to do this to please me," he murmured. "Sure, I've thought about doing it several times, but… I don't want to hurt you," he said softly, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. "If I hurt you, I'd never forgive myself," he added.

You pulled his hands from your cheeks and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Please, Channie?" you said sweetly. The sweet tone in your voice paired with the innocent look in your eyes did things to him. The fire that had started in the pit of his stomach the moment you first spoke was fanned by the way you called him Channie.

He let his actions speak for him, hand cradling the back of your neck as he took your lips in a heated kiss, tongue slipping past your parted lips and groaning as your hands found purchase on his waist, pulling him closer, pressing your body on his.

The kiss progressed, hands moving quickly as you tugged at each other's clothes, stumbling through your apartment to the bedroom where you finally took a little control from your boyfriend and pushed him down onto the bed before kneeling in front of him.

Chan removed your top, revealing you weren't wearing shorts under the oversized tee-shirt and that you had donned a black set of lace underwear with straps. "You were prepared, weren't you?" he asked, fingers slipping under the strap of your bra and snapping the band against your skin. You nodded slowly.

"Yes, sir."

"No," you said back in the moment with your boyfriend. You met his gaze once more, shaking your head as much as you could in his grip. "I want to do this. It's not just for you. It's for me, too."

Chan's thumb brushed over your lips, smearing your lip gloss slightly. "If you insist," he said with a slight smirk. "If you wanna tap out for any reason," he continued. "Just tap my thigh three times. Since you won't be able to speak. Two taps for yellow, three for red."

"What about green?" you asked, looking up at him again, leaning into his touch as his hand moved to stroke your hair. "One tap for green then?" he asked with a shrug. You nodded. "That sounds good," you replied as his hand continued to smooth over your hair.

"I guess, get to it," he said sitting back, resting his hands on the mattress to hold his weight, nodding down to his prominent erection in his sweats.

You'd never been one to beat around the bush, you were always direct in pleasuring him but you wanted to take it slow. Even if you weren't inexperienced in giving head, letting him use your mouth as his own personal fleshlight was different.

He'd never been overly forceful, prioritizing your comfort over his orgasm. He always made sure you were okay and that he hadn't hurt you. Your safety and comfort meant everything to him.

As your fingers fumbled with the ties of his pants, an idea formed in his mind. He was getting the chance to live out one of his fantasies, what was one more?

Chan grabbed your wrist as your fingers slipped under his waistband, halting your movements. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "One more thing," he said, locking eyes with you, waiting for you to respond which you did with a nod.

"Can I request that you let me use that pretty throat of yours, too?" he asked, his hand moving to caress your neck. Your eyes widened. "You want to fuck my throat, too?" you asked softly. He nodded.

"I promise I'll be gentle," he said, his fingers sweeping over your pulse point. "It's something else I've thought about. My cock down your throat as I cum. You can say no, angel," he added, noticing how quiet you'd become. You looked back up at him and nodded.

"Okay."

Before he could respond, you tugged his pants and underwear down, forcing him to lift his hips so you could drag his clothes down his thighs. Sitting up higher, you took his now free length in your hand, dropping some of your spit on the tip and starting to stroke him slowly.

He let out an exhale as his head fell back. “Don’t hold back your moans,” you said softly as you leaned forward. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

Chan let out a low moan as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. You’d given him oral plenty of times to know exactly what he liked and what he didn’t like. Luckily for you, as long as you used your mouth, Chan liked whatever you did to him.

“A little more, honey,” he urged, moving one of his hands to the back of your head and pushing down slightly.

You took more of him in your mouth, moving your hand to rest on his thigh as he continued to guide your head, bobbing up and down, pushing just a bit further each time and forcing more of his cock in your mouth.

You felt the tip hit the back of your throat and gagged instinctively. Chan allowed you to pull back, asking if you were okay before guiding your head again when you answered in the affirmative.

Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he’d hold your head in place a little longer. “Sorry,” you gasped, wiping saliva and precum off your chin. You’d gone as long as you could but had to tap out for a moment to breathe.

Chan smiled, brushing your hair back. “Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You’re doing amazing.”

His praise filled your chest and you were ready to go again.

“There you go,” he groaned as your head sank down, taking his cock back into your mouth. He continued to offer praise as your head bobbed, taking more and more of him into your mouth, enjoying the gentle groans and moans as you used what you knew he liked against him.

You felt his fingers tighten in your hair and he experimentally thrusted into your mouth, causing you to gag. Chan quickly pulled you off him, offering an apology but you shook your head. “Keep going,” you said, your voice slightly hoarse.

You guided the head of his cock past your lips once more and gave him control.

Chan hesitantly took hold of your hair and gave another thrust that this time you thankfully didn’t gag on. He gave another, setting a slow pace as he tried to gauge how much you could take.

When you didn’t motion for him to stop, he kept going, this time, using his hands to move your head. You relaxed your jaw and closed your eyes, trying not to pay attention to the arousal that pooled in your panties as your boyfriend forced more of his cock into your mouth and partially into your throat.

“Shit,” he hissed, holding your head in place, cock lodged in your throat where you could feel it twitch slightly. “Hold it for a second longer,” he groaned as your throat constricted around him before finally pulling you back to take a breath.

The room filled with the sound of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he used your mouth to pleasure himself. You could feel your panties starting to stick to your skin and wouldn’t be surprised if your arousal started to spill onto the floor.

Chan let out a groan, his thighs under your hands tensing as his orgasm approached. “Oh shit. I’m gonna—,” he gasped, pushing your head down as he came, his release spilling down your throat.

Once he finished, he pulled you off him, murmuring apologies and praise as he pulled you up onto his lap. “You did so fucking well,” he mumbled, peppering kisses all over your face. “Here,” he added, pulling his shirt up to wipe your chin.

His hand cupped your cheek as he examined your face. “Lemme see,” he said, urging you to open your mouth. You obliged him and he groaned. “You swallowed all of it?” He asked, sounding surprised.

You nodded meekly, squeaking when he easily tossed you off his lap and onto the bed, stuffing himself back into his pants before settling between your thighs.

“What are you-?” You asked as he took hold of your shorts and panties, pulling them down quickly and tossing them aside. “I’m returning the favor,” he said as he drew level with your soaked center.

“And by the looks of it, you need some release.”

You opened your mouth to protest but only let out a moan as he slipped two fingers into your warm walls, guiding them slowly as he watched your expression morph from shock to pleasure.

“Shhh, honey,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Let me take care of you like you did for me.”

You whined as he started a steady pace, his fingers moving in and out of you. Your thighs threatened to close on him the second you felt his tongue on your clit. But he managed to keep them apart by pushing one thigh up, giving him more access.

“C-chan!” You whimpered as his tongue flicked against your clit, propelling you closer to the edge. He pulled back, continuing the torturously slow pace with his fingers inside you and a devilish grin on his face.

“I never said I wasn’t going to tease you first.”

You body shook, beyond frustrated at the lack of orgasm as Chan kept building you up only to stop and let your climax slip away.

“Please let me cum, Chan!” You cried out when he stopped all movement for what felt like the sixth or seventh time. He chuckled softly, curling his fingers inside you slowly, prompting your orgasm to slowly build up again.

“Such a good little slut, using her manners,” he cooed, his fingers suddenly pistoning in and out of your cunt quickly. The sudden increase caused you to cry out, grabbing his wrist with one hand.

“What’s wrong, baby? I thought you wanted to cum,” he said in a mockingly sweet tone, his hand stopping. “Too much,” you whine. “Too fast.” You heard him click his tongue.

“You begged me to let you cum but now it’s too much? What do you want, angel?”

“I-” you swallowed thickly. “I wanna cum, Chan, please.”

“But you don’t want me to be too harsh?” He asked, slowly starting back up. You nodded as his fingers curled again, making your back arch off the mattress. “Well, you were so good for me earlier,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on your face.

“I guess I can be good for you, too.”

#svthub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #lee chan scenarios #lee chan imagines #lee chan smut #lee chan x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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writingwenches · 3 months ago

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Team "they’re all called Emma"

In my Dance of the Dragon/HOTD AU, there is Aemma Velaryon, the first child of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her worst nightmare. Aemma is more Team Green than any of the greens because it's inherently anti-mom and what’s more patriotic than doing the exact thing your parents don’t want you do to. The princess of the Seven Kingdoms is also in need of her personal posse, many have dared and tried, and many have left defeated. Those who remained are the princess's inner circle…

Princess Aemma Velaryon

Her only motivation is avoiding eternal damnation in the deepest pits of the Seven Hells. In her early teens, she began wearing gloves, and it was soon adopted by her following, it has become a well-known calling card for the group of supporters. While in prayer, veils are worn to cover their hair and face, as time goes on Princess Aemma wears her more often than not.

public moniker – "The Pearl of the Realm"

Lady Emelda Florent

Niece to Queen Alicent, through the Queen's Mother, Lady Floret. Emelda is the only daughter to the current Lord Floret. No one seems to get her name correct, choosing the simplified “Emma” instead. She longs to join the Faith of the Seven, but her father is requiring her to marry to improve their station even higher. Why can't having one queen in the family be enough?

house seat – Brightwater Keep, The western Reach

house sigil – a red fox in a circle of blue flowers

public moniker – "Lady Septa"

Lady Ima Shett

Thinking is hard, and it is nice when other people do it for you, just like how Lady Ima does her reading, by having someone else do it for her. Illiterate by choice, for the grace of the gods. Life would be so much simpler if Ima could marry her brother, the future Lord of House Shett, Ser Qyle Shett. She is reminded that this is a disgusting thought every time she brings it up, even though the Princess Aemma "gets" to marry one of her uncles. It's just not fair.

house seat – Gulltown, The eastern Vale

house sigil – white seagulls on a field of brown

public moniker – [must i say it T.T]

Joy the Maid

An unremarkable girl, born in a brothel to a whore in King's Landing named Joy, how original. Everything changed for Joy the day a young Prince Aegon Targaryen found himself in her company. He had brought a long a costume for her to wear, and she obliged, and he left, not bothering to take back the scrapes of fabric. But, this was no ordinary fabric, this was the uniform of a maid of the Red Keep, a prestigious position, not held but just any daughter of a whore. Joy found a way into the castle, and found a use for herself, it wasn't hard blending in, picking up slack, and finding a corner to sleep in after her hot meal. Princess Aemma was the only one to notice, that Joy was different, something she said she was not. Joy confessed to Princess Aemma and threw herself at her mercy, only to be lifted up and offered a chance to repent, to truly become the daughter of the gods she was meant to be. Aemma is her savior. Joy would kill for Princess Aemma, and perhaps already has. She has started to introduce herself as Emma to anyone who asks. She always hated her name anyways.

Always up to hear any ideas, suggestion, questions, and general squees~ I would also like to publicly apologize for not being able to stop adding dumb dumb mundane humor to everything I write lol oops

Also, if anyway is ever interested in a short-term RP between our characters, I’m totally down for that~

[RP — “role play” — a few sentences/paragraphs from one character point of view then the next person’s character from their POV and cont. to tell a story or just to open them to unexpected situations/dialogue]

xoxo gossip girl

#lol I’m so dumb #I can’t help it I need my jokey jokes #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #writing #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #hotd oc #rhaenyra targaryen x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #aemma velaryon #oc: aemma velaryon #oc: Emelda Florent #oc: Ima Shett #oc: Joy Waters

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gretavanbrie · 1 year ago

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Dreadful Reminders // part two (J.T.K.)

Summary: The brewing tension in your relationship seems to be pulling your love at the seams. What will happen when what is supposed to be happy news, only tears you apart further. Is one mindless phone call the end of it all?

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: angst (like.. hella angst), soft smut (MINORS DNI!!!), heartbreak, crying, feelings of anger, isolation, mentions of alcohol consumption, swearing, sad!Jake, excessive apologies, talks of pregnancy, arguing, soft!Jake, flashbacks that might pull at your heart strings just a smidge, heavy dialogue towards the end, oral f!receiving, light impact play like once if you really squint, nipple play, softdom!Jake, terrible singing (I feel like that deserves a warning lmao), if I missed anything please lmk!!

A/N: This is Part 2!! She is longgg and lengthy so buckle up! If you have not yet read the first part I highly recommend you do so. I want to thank those who read the first part I hope the second does the first some justice, this chapter has a lot more dialogue and context between Jake and y/n. All flashbacks are italicized!!! I do not have a tag list yet so I apologize. I also want to give an honorable mention to my best friend who helped co-write the smut. Without further ado, enjoy!!

Part 1

————————————————————

After the feud you questioned the half decade spent with Jake. Had you done something to push him away? You had a bad habit of blaming yourself for things that were never in your control, but how could he? The situation left you with nothing but guilt and questioning. How were you meant to go through this pregnancy on your own? Desperately craving guidance and clarity.

The minute the door closed behind you, you couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of guilt wash over your body. You drug your feet down the paved road to your car slugging your bag along. You felt pathetic for silently wishing he’d come chasing after you, to feel wanted for the first time in what felt like forever. But he never did, he never came running out.

The hole in your chest now a pathetic excuse for a heart.

You opened your car door throwing your bag in the back. You let out a long sigh, throat tight on the brink of tears.. yet again. Resting your head on the steering wheel you replay the events of tonight. You felt silly for being so dramatic, I mean packing up and leaving? Because your feelings were hurt? A part of you knew not to be too hard on yourself, your emotions were at an all time high. That didn’t help the tiny daggers Jakes words metaphorically threw at you.

The question aching in your chest the most is, how are you meant to go through these next 9 months without him. You felt so alone. Where were you even meant to go in the mean time? I mean at least until you could collect yourself and contact someone. You thought back to all of the happy times with Jake. A memory in particular tugging at your heart strings, you put your car in reverse knowing exactly where you were going. The long drive seemed to have cleared your mind enough to put an end to the incessant crying.

Is it better to hurt than to feel nothing at all?

You questioned yourself as you pulled into the long dirt road leading to the old wooden cabin the boys have used for years. Putting your car in park you silently curse yourself for wanting to be away from Jake but ending up in the one place that is littered with remnants of him. The universe had a funny way of mocking you, the irony of it all almost humorous.

Stepping inside you took in everything around you. The old rugs scattered across the floor, some equipment still left behind. You ran your fingers across the mic stand recalling your fondest memory in this place. The memory that lead you here. Longing for a sliver of comfort, even if you had to milk it out of an old memory.

Feeling the lump in your throat return once again you peeled your hands off and made your way to the bedroom you’ve become unmistakably familiar with. You settled into the bed you and him used to share fighting back the tears not bothering to change out of jakes ratty old sweatshirt.

Sleep clouded your mind accompanied by a singular thought relentlessly repeating as you finally allowed your body rest.

What have I done wrong?

—————————————————

Jake awoke to the front door slamming shut, the incessant pounding of his head and foot steps approaching. Peeling his top half off the floor, his eyes squint from the harshness of the light seeping in through the windows.

“Close the blinds.” He says rather harshly, sensing its his twin.

“Well good morning to you as well, dear brother. You look awful” he says with an insufferable smirk. Jake shoots him a sarcastic smile, not in the mood for his antics.

‘You reek of booze man, what the fuck is wrong with you.. where’s y/n?”. Jake stays quiet for a moment as memories from the previous night flood his brain. His chest now tight, fighting back tears as he realizes what he thought was a nightmare is in fact real.

“She’s gone.” Is all he mutters before he stands up. Just as quickly as he got up, he sunk back down. Josh grabbing ahold of his brothers arm right in the nick of time.

“How much did you drink Jake?” Josh asks rhetorically, prying the whiskey bottle from Jakes hands.

“Whatever happened is a conversation for another time, get your shit together or we’re gonna be late. You knew we had an interview, im not letting you embarrass us.” He says sternly pointing a finger in his brothers direction.

Jake stumbles to your guy’s room not bearing the sight of some of your belongings still scattered about the space. He rakes his fingers through his hair as he breathes out a heavy sigh fighting back the new set of tears. One managed to escaped and cascaded down his face. A dreadful reminder of your absence.

Taking a quick 5 minute shower in hopes of somehow washing off his guilt. Noticeably failing at doing so, the ache in his chest only grew stronger. Splashing the water on his face to wake himself up before stepping out. Glancing towards your toothbrush as he went to grab his, he heaves a shaky breath. The best word to describe how he felt was sorrowful. He couldn’t even be mad at himself, he knows he’d have his bags packed and out the door as well had he heard the unforgivable words spoken from him.

He can’t even pin the reason behind his actions either. Conjuring excuses and dismissing them immediately, knowing this is irreversible. He finished brushing his teeth throwing on his over-worn jeans, a button up and his tattered boots. Reaching for his cologne his breath hitched in his throat. The memory of when he first started wearing it flashing before his eyes.

“I love this scent on you honey” you whispered peering up at him through your eyelashes, your soft breaths surely tickling his neck. The sun shining perfectly on your face.

‘god what a woman, a temptress of the earth.’ He thinks to himself.

Jake stuck a little flower he’s been holding onto in your hair as you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest shining him your brightest smile. You both giggled as the wind blew your hair wistfully across your face.

“I’d wear it for you so long as I’m alive, my dear” he says cupping your face, cherishing the sweetness of your soft lips.

The memory now plaguing his mind, taunting him of what he so selfishly sabotaged.

“Get yourself the fuck together dude” he whispered before picking up the bottle and spraying himself. He trudged out of the bedroom.

“Let’s go Josh.” He says quickly before making his way out the door.

—————————————————

The drive to the radio station was thankfully short, ever since you left jake has hated silence. His thoughts being far too loud in the stillness of the once lively four walls. The boys were headed back to their respective homes. Jake in disassociation, quickly snapped out by daniel’s words.

“What was up with you today man? Talk about a man of few words” he jokes trying to make light of the awkward tension during the interview, painfully unaware of the distress Jake was in. Poor Danny was just trying to lighten the mood, Jake however didn’t care for it.

“I suppose I’ve got my own shit to worry about, you should try it sometime.” Jake mutters, leaving Danny dumbfounded. Guilt immediately creeping it’s way through his brain. He already lost you, the last thing Jake wants is bad blood with someone else.

“I’m sorry man that was harsh, I just have a lot on my mind. I also might’ve had one too many drinks last night… i think i let them catch up to me” he gives a small chuckle in hopes of alleviating the tension. Sam and Danny joke back. His twin’s eyes shooting daggers his direction, believing none of it.

Back at the cabin you finally stirred awake, nauseous for the second morning. Realizing you’re not at home, thoughts of last night hit you like a semi. You curl back up in the sheets wishing for this to be some sick, sick dream. Sure, some may write you off as dramatic but you’re so young, only a few years younger than Jake and you feel as though he forgets this is just as scary for you as it is him. When you dreamt of having a baby you pictured Jake by your side, in it for the long haul.

You tried fighting the unceasing waves of nausea as you rummaged for something to eat in the kitchen. Settling on some toast and lemon honey tea, you made a mental note to head to the shops in hopes of getting your mind off things.

You opened the French doors that led to the beautiful backyard deck and the land that stretched for miles and miles just enjoying the serenity of it all. Sipping your tea you ponder for a moment. You decide you’ve allowed yourself enough time to feel sorry for yourself. Now all that is left is making the best of the situation. You are a strong resilient soul, you need to energetically be the best you can be for you and this beautiful soon-to-be life the two of you have created. You decided to head into town today to pick up some baby and parenthood books, maybe an incredibly early start but it seems like you’ll be spending a lot of time here anyway.

You take a shower to wash yesterday off you, preparing for this new start. Putting on light makeup and combing through your locks you dress yourself in a white sundress you thrifted long ago slipping on some shoes and heading out.

You stop at a farmers market and recall the first summer you and Jake spent alone at the cabin, he had a break from tour and he made it a point to come and spend some one-on-one time.

He went and bought you a singular wildflower from every vender he could find until eventually you had a custom-made bouquet. Stopping and picking out fruits and cheeses together to later be shared in the garden that evening. Picking up cheap bottles of wine to share while the two of you slow danced in the back yard. He got a new cologne that day as well. A moment so tender shared between the two of you, cherished in your heart forever.

Not wanting to stay long you waltz around the closest towns local library flipping through every parenthood and childcare book you could find. Collecting a few to take home, you pay and head back.

As you were washing and cutting the fruits, ‘Til There Was You’ started playing on the old Beatles vinyl in the background. You smiled remembering the song fondly, one of jakes favorites. Little did you know it was only his favorite because of the drunken show you put on for him one night singing along terribly to the song as your friends talked and laughed around you guys. Your cheeks pink and flushed either from the liquor in your system, or embarrassment. Jake didn’t seem to care, you looked beautiful as ever to him in that moment.

You leave the record playing as you curl up in a blanket on the couch diving into one of the many books you bought today. A sliver of peace filling your body, things are starting to look up.

A few hours pass and you finally decide to plug in your phone not having bothered with it since the argument. The screen illuminates indicating battery life, you see no calls from Jake and one missed call from josh. Hurt strikes through your chest as you realize maybe he didn’t want you around after all. You hesitate before calling Josh back, a glimmer of hope in your heart.

It only took a couple rings for Josh to pick up and his voice booms through your ear.

“Y/n!! Finally you answer! Where have you been?! You never disappear this long, you and Jake are practically inseparable!” He exclaims. You grimace as you think back to the things Jake told him.

“I mean this respectfully Josh, but cut the shit. I heard everything he said to you last night on the phone. Since I’m so bothersome in my own home, I’ve taken some time away from everybody.” You say

“A-and please Josh…. Don’t tell anyone about the baby yet, i wanna get through this by myself first.” You plead, voice dripping with nervousness.

You hear the other end of the line fall silent for a moment before a heavy sigh escapes his mouth, him now getting a clue as to why he found a sweaty drunken Jake lying on the kitchen floor next to unpacked groceries. He begins to speak.

“Listen I’m sorry about my brother, I told him he needs to get his head out of his ass. There are many ways you guys can make this work but he’s stubborn. I’m confused where this is stemming from because this is all he’s ever wanted with you, I don’t know why he’s running from it now.” You can hear things being moved around and voices yelling in the back.

“Listen i have some people over right now i have to go but can you at least tell me where you are so i know you’re safe?” His voice coated in concern.

“The first summer we said i love you josh, I’m at the cabin.”

————————————————————-

Later that evening Jake finds himself at his desk sifting through old film pictures you guys took together, the two of you preferring physical proof of the intimate moments rather than digital. That isn’t to say you didn’t have any, these were just far more special to the two of you.

Jake has never felt a love like yours and he senselessly tossed it all out of the window. He knew he wanted a family with you, he just got scared of the responsibility of juggling the band and a family life. He opened a drawer full of all the wilted flowers, saved letters and notes, movies and concert tickets, hundreds of tiny nick nacks the two of you have collected over time. His eyes fall upon an old polaroid from the lake house, your cheeks sunburned, your hair kissed by the sun as you had your lips gently placed on jakes cheek. His smile shining brighter than ever, a slight pink tinge to the apples of his cheeks.

You two had just started dating. He invited you out to see his writing process, eager to have you mesh with the one thing he loves most. Jake had no idea you’d be a contiguous second. You two had spent all day in the sun reading together as the rest of the boys swam about the river. Jake caught a glimpse of his future with you, Both of you old, sat in your backyard watching your children, and eventually grandchildren, play about the land. He peered over to you and saw your rosy cheeks and nose buried in a book with ur legs up to ur chest in the lawn chair. You looked like you were exactly where you belonged. Next to him enjoying the comfortable silence. His favorite summer with you.

You peeled your eyes from the fascinating story nestled in your hands only to be met with your lovers, already drinking you in. you see the long-haired boy shoot you warm smile knowing he’s been caught.

“Whatcha looking at, rockstar” you smirk. Jake felt his heart flutter, your voice smooth like tupelo honey. Never has a woman had him in this much of a chokehold.

“Oh nothing… just my beautiful, beautiful girl” he says standing up from his seat beside you. He made his way to you resting his arms on each side of the chair essentially trapping you in. His torso bent over you as you look up at Jake the sun eclipsed by his head creating a beautiful halo glow around him. His skin sheen with the glistening sweat from the hot summer air. His hair tussled around from the lake water. You’ve never looked at him with so much adoration and love, and Jake could spot it from miles away. His heart began pumping faster and faster. You guys hadn’t even been together a year yet, was it too soon?

He finally speaks up “I was just admiring how natural this feels, here, with you. Wouldn’t trade it for the world…” He whispers trailing off as his eyes dart across your face, admiring the way the sun shone just right. His hands cupping your face like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Everything felt so right.

“..I love you.” he continued on, entranced by your loving gaze.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, not that you were one for those anyway. It was intimate, a moment shared between you two, and you two only. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t used for show. It was real and it was natural. You’re immensely thankful Jake was emotionally secure enough to be so open and vulnerable with you.

A small smile tugged at your lips as your already sunburnt cheeks flushed to an even more crimson shade. Jake swore he felt his knees buckle. Though you hadn’t replied just yet, Jake knew. The love in your eyes sold it. His body still leaning over your own sat in the lawn chair, you pull him down a bit further by his necklace placing a gentle kiss to his soft lips.

“I love you more, my Jake.” you whisper as you pull away.

Jake replays the memory in his head. It’s been you all along. He was so blinded by his own bad habits, he shut you out. The one thing in his 27 years of life aside from his music that actually made him feel something. You were his wildest most cherished dream, left wilting from his own venom laced words. Slamming the drawer shut, Jake wasted no time grabbing his keys making his way to the car. No plan in mind.

His only purpose being to get his woman back, to make things right.

Picking his phone up he frantically dials Josh.

“Josh? Josh? hello?” Jake spews into the phone hearing josh pick up.

“What’s up?” Josh answers.

“I need you to tell me where y/n is at. I know you’ve kept in contact, she tells you everything. I don’t care what you say. I need her back. She’s the one josh i-i- i can’t lose her.” The long haired boy proclaimed choking back sobs. Josh had never heard his brother in such distress.

“Even if i make a fool of myself i need to show her I’m hers indefinitely. Ive made no efforts in proving that to her and especially now that she’s carrying my baby I can’t let that slip out of reach. Please Joshua… i need this.” He breathes. Josh is silent contemplating if he should say something. Hearing the anguish in his little brothers voice, he can’t bear to keep it from him any longer.

“Look i won’t say too much. Just think of your favorite summer, it’s evidently hers as well. I gotta go, ill talk to u later”

“Thank you thank you thank y-“ Jake is cut off by josh ending the call. He wastes no time rushing to you. Mentally preparing for this long drive ahead of him.

———————————————————————————

You sat on the living room floor mindlessly flipping through old magazines that were once neatly tucked in a corner, boredom obviously taking its course. The phone call with josh long forgotten about, since then you’ve changed into jakes old band tee you found in one of the drawers here. You hear tires on the dirt road and headlights making its way towards the house. Frightened, you pick up a kitchen knife clutching your bra less chest. You hold your breath as a car door slams and footsteps approach.

A soft knock on the cabin door and you feel the hairs on your arms raise. You peek your eye in the peep hole, after seeing who was behind the door you would’ve much rather it have been a murderer. Seeing those smooth caramel eyes you’ve missed so much only pains you, and reminds you of the hurt he caused. Every harsh word now on repeat. You sigh setting the knife down and pulling the door open.

“Hello” You greet, voice small.

‘You sound pathetic’ you think to yourself

“Y/n please…. I know its so soon and you without a doubt deserve space but I can’t bear another second without. God i was so stupid, you’ve given me nothing but undeniable support and love and I’ve taken that for granted. I should’ve talked things ou-“

“jake…” you cut him off, the softness of your voice ringing in his ears like music from angels themselves. He’s been craving the sound of your voice.

“Please just come inside and we’ll talk you haven’t even stepped foot in the door” you continue

“So.. you’ll hear me out? We can fix this right?” His eager eyes bouncing back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of non-verbal answer.

“I never said that Jacob…” you trail off allowing him to step inside.

“Can i grab you anything to drink?” You offer, Jake mesmerized by your hospitality even in the midst of a broken heart. He didn’t think he could be more enamored by you, but alas.

“I’m not some random guest y/n, i want to prove to you how sorry i am. Please..” he whispers inching closer to you. You look down a sigh escaping past your lips. You look back up at him, he sees the hurt flash in your eyes as you recall the phone call.

“Why did you say those things?” Keeping steady eye contact. It was now your turn to look for the answers in his irises.

“I don’t know honey, I don’t know.. the only logical explanation i can give you is i was scared. But that’s no excuse and i’m fully aware. Things had already been so bad between us it was eating me alive. I thought if I wasn’t even able to care and provide for you how I should’ve the last 2 months, how was i meant to provide for an entirely new human? I realized i was treating you in a way i never thought I would in a million years. I promised myself to cherish a love like yours should i ever have the privilege of being graced by your love and affection and i was blind. So fucking blind. Kids haven’t always been my thing baby you know that and i want nothing more than to have this with you now and to have a family to call our own. I’ve come to my senses. I don’t know what washed over me i let my fear get the best of me. I usually know what to say but there’s no words in the English language to describe the sorrow i feel. I’m so fucking sorry y/n.” He finishes blinking away the brewing tears. You sit almost mute if it weren’t for your shaky breathing.

“Please.. say something, anything” he pleads, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Jake i wanna forgive you I’m just hurt, 5 years and not once have i been treated like this by you. I thought, you know, telling you the news would alleviate the tension between us. I was hoping you’d somehow realize it was all silly, and the fighting wasn’t like us. Instead you pushed me away further. Am i so terrible Jacob?” You ask dropping your gaze to your feet.

“No my love, i was just being foolish and immature. I let emotions cloud logic, I spoke what felt right at the time being and it was the worst mistake of my life. If i could take it all back i would, you have no fucking idea the lengths i’d go to undo my actions.” He says taking your face in his hand. Closing your eyes, you nestle your cheek into the warmth of his calloused palm.

Oh, how you’ve missed this. You quickly snap out of it before continuing on.

“where were you that morning, Jake? josh called asking for you but you said you were with the boys.” you say peeling your cheek away from his hand. Chest rising and falling with anticipation.

“I was with them for the first part of the morning my love, i was. But i did slip out the minute it was over instead of hanging around how they always do. I went to grab some breakfast to try and untangle the mess that was my brain at the time. I saw a dad alone with his two daughters, i think the mom might’ve been busy but the dad looked so worn out. Completely defeated, and it scared me. It’s still no excuse for the way i treated you prior to the news. I was taking my workload home with me and i pinned faults on you to try and alleviate some of the tension. I’m so sorry baby, you don’t deserve it at all. You were nothing but patient with me a- and-“ his voice cracks his head now hung in shame as his throat tightens up, tears slipping past the ducts.

“-and i failed you y/n. I ran home and called josh to try and gain some sensibility. I voiced the intrusive thoughts that were in no way the truth. I think i just let everything get to my head and i went into this existential questioning mode. I’ll regret it eternally.” he continues, lips now parted flicking his eyes between your own.

“My Jake, I’m not upset at you being scared. This is terrifying. We’re so young i don’t expect you to have this figured out. You’re doing so well with your music. I feel terrible, you have no idea. But i’m just as scared as you are. This is supposed to be a help me help you. No matter how terrifying, this was painstakingly meant for us. This was in store for us whether we like it or not and i honestly couldn’t be more grateful, Jake. I know we can make this work. If there’s anyone in the world I’d want this with its you, I need to you to be emotionally present…please jake” you say hopeful.

“I know we can honey, and I will. You won’t ever have to worry about anything. You can quit your job, I’ll provide for the three of us, you won’t have to lift a finger anymore. You can come with us on tour and i’ll be by your side every step of the way. I will make sure the traveling is as comfortable as can be for my pregnant little lady” he says pulling you in closer by the hand.

“I’m gonna need time Jake, i can’t just ask that of you. And to be frank, your words hurt. Everything is so fresh we can’t just move past it in one day. You didn’t even call me or anything Jake, radio silence. I understand if that was the space you needed but not even to check if I’m okay?” You choke.

“I know my love, I’m incredibly disappointed with myself you have no idea. I should’ve called. I just knew if I were in your shoes I wouldn’t have wanted to be around me either. I figured the least I could do was give you the space you needed. You don’t know how desperately I wanted to call you and text you and run out there, but that would’ve been selfish of me. To say hurtful things and beg you to stay? I deserved you’re absence. I should’ve reached out. I’m so fucking sorry. I have no clue what got to me it was all nonsense, I was being incredibly immature”

“It’s just disappointing, what did I do wrong Jake?” You whisper your eyes flicking between his plump lips and his caring eyes.

“Nothing baby, you did absolutely nothing wrong. I was being an asshole. You don’t deserve that in the slightest. Let me show you how sorry i am baby, let me take care of you” he whispers lips connecting with your pulse point, the light suction sending chills down your spine.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry” gently whispering fighting the crack in his voice, punctuating each apology with a kiss to ur soft skin.

“Jake please not right no-“ you’re cut off by his lips crashing onto yours. Your lips move together like it was the first time you’d ever shared a kiss, eager and love drunk.

“let me make things right.” He whispers resting his forehead on your own.

“You’re all I’ve ever needed” moving to place a kiss behind your ear.

“Jake please” you breathe.

“I’m sorry” he repeats again but only gripping the larger fitting t-shirt of his clung around your body.

His lips meet yours again as he slowly backs you into the counter. Kneeling down in front of you, feeling your hands trace over the top of his head strumming through his long hair. Jake begins pulling at the hem of the shirt the smell of vanilla permeating his nose. The kiss ceases as you realize where this is going.

“Jake we can’t do this, we have to-“ your frantic words seem to go dormant as your shirt is quickly discarded. He strokes the back of your legs and ass pulling your lower half further into him, staring at each other with your lust-filled eyes.

“I just need to taste you, show you how much I need you.” He plants a kiss to your abdomen, finger hooking the thin fabric uncovering the sweet pool of honey.

“Is this okay baby?” he hums against your skin.

You let out a whimper, his lips quirk up in a smile knowing you wanted this just as bad.

The underwear falls as he guides your legs upward to help you step out of them, kicking it to the side using the counter to support your weight. Letting your right leg sit comfortably on his shoulder as he circles your clit with his thumb. Looking deep into your eyes and watching you cave under his touch is more than he can handle, your his greatest strength and undeniable weakness.

Wasting no time, his tongue hungrily glides through your folds, jake completely enamored by the sweetness of your aching cunt. God how you missed him. He’s desperate at this point, the impression of his fingers on your skin, the way your chest drops with every exhale, the tug of your bottom lip between your teeth as your head drops back. The way you fuck back into his face as though this insatiable hunger for one another isn’t one sided.

He pulls back emitting a whimper from you. He quickly but gently bends you over the counter. Admiring the heart shape your ass resembles, he gives a light smack. A smile dances across his lips at the absolute bliss upon your once tear-stained face. He sprinkles light kisses over the small of your back before running his hand back over your soaking wet slit.

“Spread your legs beautiful, I need to see all of you” to which you gracefully oblige.

“Atta girl” he smirks. You swear you could climax from his words alone.

He licked one long stripe starting from your taint stopping just shy of your clit before sucking slightly, his tongue then running up and down the small crevice, your arousal being lapped as though this were his last meal.

“Jesus Christ Jake…….so good” you whimper, your breathy moans like the soft song of a siren, reeling him in stronger than ever before.

“all I ever want is to make you feel good honey, I’m all yours” he says before continuing one of his favorite acts of service. He snakes a hand up to your breasts giving one a light squeeze. He slowly pinched and rolls your sensitive nipple in between his pointer and thumb eliciting a pornographic moan from you.

“You’re all mine” he says, ravenously burying his face into your dripping cunt.

You arch your back lifting your ass giving him more access to what seemed to be his own personal form of heroin, an insatiable hunger only you could satisfy. You’re close, and he knows it too. Keeping the tempo he begins to bring both knees to the hardwood kitchen floor in attempts to give you the chance to slightly sit on his face.

He drops his hold on your breasts using the same hand to circle your clit continuing his assault. The newfound feeling of synchronization between his tongue and finger becoming too much to handle.

“My god Jake, I’m so close” you groan pulling his hair for leverage. You start grinding into his mouth before allowing yourself to fully submit to the feeling.

“ I’m cum-“ you squeak out before the rush of your orgasm cuts you off.

Jake starts massaging your side as physical praise. The nectar drips from your cunt into his mouth, Jake hums in approval at your arousal. You ride out your high on his face. You look back at him with lust and admiration. He pulls back and turns you around grasping your thighs as he begins to clean you with his mouth. Repeated kisses on your legs and stomach. The maintained eye contact, trying to burn this moment into his brain. You look down at him pushing the single strand of hair out of his now glistening face. He stares up at you.

“You look so pretty when you come on my face you know?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and smile. Searching for the now discarded t-shirt. Jake stands up collecting himself. He pulls you in by the arm before you can get dressed.

“I love you immensely y/n, i will spend every waking day of my life proving that to our little family” he says placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I was so stupid my love, I had everything I’ve ever dreamed of and I took advantage. I’m not asking you to forgive me right away but just know I will fight for you until my deathbed” he continued, pulling you into his embrace.

“Please just communicate your thoughts with me Jake, we’ve been in this so long. This needs to be a help me help you. No matter how irrational you think the issue may be. I love you far too much to be apart from you” You say staring into his eyes. He places a hand over his heart before solemnly swearing to do so.

The two of you make your way into the old bedroom, his eyes sadden at your clothes spilling out of the duffel bag in the corner. It may have only been 24 hours apart but it shouldn’t even have come to that. His heart clenched at the thought of you feeling like you had to resort to isolation. Although, he knows he would’ve done the same had he been in your shoes. He grabs your hand pulling you into his chest, fingers scratching at your scalp. The way he held you was enough to relive you of any hurt or ailment in your body. The intimacy and closeness you two lacked for so long finally shining through like a streak of sunlight in a window after a terrible storm. You feel the shakiness of his breath before he begins to speak.

“I know I’ve said it many times before my love, but I truly am sorry. You shouldn’t have been alone. God, how scared you must’ve been.” He breathes looking up as if to hold back the tears fighting to escape.

“Thinking of you falling asleep by yourself last night is agonizing. I should’ve been there for you.” He whispers.

“What happened, happened Jakey. Let’s not dwell on what we can no longer change. Please… I don’t wanna think about it any longer. I want to focus on moving forward. I want to be the best version of me for our child” you say pulling away, both of you looking down to your abdomen with sad smiles.

“Did you come here because it was the first time we said i love you to eachother?” He blurts, eyes darting between your own. Scared of what you might say.

“Maybe..” you flush, shying your face away. A smile lights up his face.

“The moment was just so perfect, Jake. So intimate. Something special just for us, no interruptions. We were so happy, young, and in love. After we said it we got so drunk Jakey, you serenaded me with that mic all night. Any song I spoke of you strummed that guitar immediately. I knew i wanted you forever, right then and there.” You giggled

“I was quite the serenader, wasn’t i?” he jokes. Pulling you in by your waist he looks up smiling as he recalls the memory.

“I will play as many songs if it means I can see your pretty smile” he says leaning down giving you a peck on the lips. You two just held each other for a moment before deciding a shower was your best bet after your little reconciliation.

The shower was nothing short of intimate. Soft touches, hands raking through each others hair as the shampoo lathers. Just basking in each others presence. The two of you sat in silence, not a word uttered. You guys seemed to have an unspoken mutual agreement that you needed to make up for lost time in touches. It had been so long since Jake had been so attentive and gentle with you. You finally felt the love you two once had circle its way back. He stayed behind you washing the conditioner from your hair.

“I love you baby” Jake states, breaking the silence. He reaches around, kissing you softly.

“You’re divine, my woman. I can’t get enough of you, I’m sorry again baby.” He says pecking your shoulder. You hum in adoration letting your head rest back on his shoulder as he lathers your body.

You two wrap up the shower after having taken the time to allow yourselves to attentively care for one another again.

You sit naked on the bed with a towel in your hair, book in hand, neither of you bothering to change. Just eager to finally be in each others presence again. Jake is walking around the room, collecting your scattered clothes and packing them up.

“My Jake, just come lay down” you whine wanting nothing but to lay in bed together, to feel a long awaited sense of normalcy between the two of you. You close your book and set it beside you as you watch him circle the room.

“Soon my lady, one more thing” he says, a smirk worn proudly like he was scheming something. He waltzed into the closet finding his old straw hat. He rests it atop his head picking up his old acoustic. Still unclothed , the instrument acting as a garment for his lower half. He strums the familiar tune to ‘Til There Was You’. Your smile beams as you recall the old Beatles song.

“Thought I’d put on a long awaited show on for my special lady and our little bean” He laughs unable to take himself seriously. You giggle as well before responding.

“Take it away, my love!” you encourage as he begins singing the song purposefully off key. Fingers strumming perfectly to the tune.

“No, i never sawrrrrrr them at alllllllllll” he exaggerates.

You two break out into fits of laughter as he rids himself of his guitar and hat diving into bed with you. The room falls silent as you guys lay, you remove your the towel from your hair getting comfortable under the covers. Jake silently admiring your glow, coming to the realization its been lost for so long. Ever since he grew distant, you didn’t shine the same, even hearing your laugh tonight struck something within him. He’s pained he’s the cause of your light dimming. He finally speaks up, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to prove myself to you again. You deserve to shine baby.” He whispers into your neck

“Mhm, don’t make me regret it” you squint your eyes at him playfully. You both laugh before sighing in contentment.

“You know I saw the food laying on the counter, I wish i could take it all back. I’ll thank you endlessly.” He says nuzzling his head into your neck entangling your legs together as his torso rested atop yours. Enjoying the intimacy of laying unclad together, it’s been far too long.

“I just never want you to speak of me like that behind my back again, I felt so unwanted. I trust that you’ll communicate those thoughts to me directly from now on” you say playing with strands of his hair.

“We’re too old for that kind of stuff now, Jakey.” You continue on.

“I’ll never let anything come between us again, i will stop at nothing to ensure your happiness. And 9 months from now i shall do the same for the little one” he says drawing shapes on your stomach. A newfound appreciation for one another, a tighter metaphorical knot now formed between the both of you. You two were made for each other and you know your baby will be so loved. Now its just one step at a time. You wouldn’t trade him for the world, he lays there completely and irrevocably enthralled by your love.

Fin.

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rocksibblingsau · 8 months ago

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I just reread your Cloud Guy post and I would love to know, what are your thoughts on Crimp?

To me it's very obvious that they cut out her other scenes and left her in this weird middle ground of not really being part of the antagonists team fully but she also doesn't read as 'good'. If anything she's morally grey?

Why Crimp is with Velvet and Veneer can only be assumed to be by her own free will, at least until she's thrown into the closet near the end of the movie. She's an assistant. This is a job. She's not captured like Floyd, she's not blackmailed. She is receiving some sort of pay (money, credit, a good name on a resume as an intern) in return for fulfilling this job. Perhaps there's a good reason. A need for money for her family, a lack of job security in the fast-paced city of Mount Rageous. The movie doesn't establish a motive, which makes it really hard to figure out her intent and morals.

Crimp was verbally abused and belittled by Velvet and Veneer, but the movie does not give any particular reason why she simply did not quit or leave. If she morally objected to the kidnapping and torture of Floyd, why did she stay? What were her intentions?

I've seen people bring up the shoulder pads as evidence either way and to me they don't deserve mentioning because from what is shown, she was not aware of what they would be used for so they're not indication of her being an accomplice, but her lack of knowledge does not absolve her guilt.

When Crimp places handcuffs Velvet and Veneer she listed the kidnapping and torture of Trolls as recognized crimes. Meaning either 'kidnapping' in their law system can extend to trolls or there is a specific crime of 'trollnapping' as in kidnapping a troll. Crimp has been aware for two months that Velvet and Veneer were engaging in criminal activity. Not just troll related, but fraud. At no point did she seemingly attempt to contact the police. Again the movie does not give us a reason why. Was she scared they wouldn't believe her? Was she being blackmailed into silence? Was there any reason she could not or believed she should not contact the police?

So we're looking at a person who is keeping a job that requires her to be complacent in the continued unlawful restraining and life-threatening torture of a person. There's seemingly no reason she should be stuck doing this. She's not, to the viewers knowledge, made any attempt to call for help or report the crime to the authorities.

For someone so quick to call out Veneer on broken laws, she doesn't seem to be aware of aiding and abetting.

Here's where things get interesting. Poppy and Branch free her from the closet and Crimp shows up in time to mute Velvet and Veneer's mics so Brozone can save the day. Crimp helps the heroes... at the last possible second. She seemingly switches sides when it's clear that Brozone is about to do something to turn the tide. Crimp only assists the 'winning' team. Crimp only helps rescue Floyd when someone ELSE shows up to do it.

A lot of her dialogue seems very self-focused. By which I mean when she arrests Velvet and Veneer, she cheers that it's "liberating". She's getting one over on her bosses that were mean to her. Not once can I recall her apologizing to Floyd, checking on him, or really talking to him about himself in anyway. The only time they directly communicate is Floyd tells her that her ukulele is coming along and she thanks him. She does tell Velvet that the vacuum will kill him. "If you use too much, you’ll kill him." She doesn't say 'Stop', just warns Velvet that the results are lethal. A warning that could easily be for Velvet's benefit if death was not her intention. A warning that the vacuum would use up the talent far quicker than the bottle.

Crimp to me reads as a character whose only interest is her own life. This isn't necessarily bad, but it means Crimp only does the "right" thing when it benefits her most. Freeing Floyd would put Velvet and Veneer out of work, which would leave her without a job. She allowed what was essentially a drawn out murder attempt for at LEAST job security and at most... some possible blackmail reason or her own family's wellbeing that was not mentioned in the movie so it's at best a headcanon. She's not innocent in the matter at all. If it had been revealed she was being say, blackmailed, like most movies there would have been a scene where there heroes say 'Don't you see what you're doing? Help us, there's still a chance to turn things around and do the right thing.' It would have been portrayed as a bad action. Here it's not addressed at all.

That's my opinion on Crimp!

#sibblings au #sibblings qna #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls crimp #velvet and veneer #trolls theory

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kanonavi · 9 months ago

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hello tumblr user kanonavi who is 1/3rd of the reason i started rereading tgcf. i have come to collect my personal apology for the emotional damages inflicted upon me for the past 5 days. and i have also come with THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS (mostly feelings)

- icb i put off this reread so long hualian are so romance. theyre jsut Romance......... absolutely floored by every throwaway bit of dialogue they had....... in shambles forever....,

- sqx arc was not as painful as the first few times i read it bc i now stand with my cancelled wife (he xuan) I STILL LOVE SQX AND THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD. BUT HX WAS REAL FOR ALL OF THAT. i love revenge

- i wanna know your thoughts on ling wen bc u mentioned having mixed feelings on her but i loved her so bad all the way to the end so im curious ljdkdjf

- i am not immune to backstory arc pt2. read it last last (?) night at like 3am and cried myself to sleep its just so gutting every timeeeeeee.... the hc plot that builds in that arc is ofc one of my favorites in the entire novel though :')

- the chapter w the cave of statues took me like 2+ hours to get through because i was feeling so insane abt it

i feel bad dropping this block of text in ur askbox sorry. will leave it there for now LOL

Omg hiiiii tumblr user stardust-make-a-wish welcome back from the yaoi cocaine pit :3 I know you're here to collect emotional damages, but I must make it known that I'm not even remotely sorry <3

Also you should feel bad for yourself instead of for me because I can only respond to huge blocks of text with even bigger blocks of text, so (TGCF Spoilers Ahead) and also I am so sorry lmaooooo

UGH you're so right that hualian is the most romance forever they are just so *clenches fists and sobs*....... They're always there for each other and they're so in love and they've been through so much and I just want them to be able to rest because it's what they deserve.

I will never once say that Hu Xuan wasn't justified in everything he did cuz like. Shi Wudu had it coming what a piece of shit. But at the same time Qingxuan is my wife and I will not tolerate my wife being harmed. So like revenge slay yes but also I am still cancelling He Xuan and spraying him with the water bottle (even though he is already very very damp).

Yesyesyes Ling Wen. So my thought about Ling Wen is that she kinda girlbossed a little too close to the sun, but at the same time you look at her circumstances both past and present and have to understand why she did all of that. It already would have been hard enough for her to gain any kind of recognition as a woman, much less in the Heavenly Court, so her ruthlessness is completely understandable. But at the same time, I don't really think the Brocade Immortal deserved what she did to him nor was taking Bai Wuxiang's side in the final conflict a real cool thing of her to do. I can't fully be a hater though because her own thoughts about everything are clearly so nuanced (See: The final convo she had with Xie Lian about the Brocade Immortal, which I am still thinking so incredibly hard about to this day).

I think that Ling Wen is interesting in the same way that I find other characters like Mu Qing, He Xuan, and Yin Yu interesting. It's in the sense that even if I don't really agree with all of the actions that they took, it's very easy to look at them and come to an understanding of why they did what they did. And I have varying degrees of like for all of the characters I just listed, but that doesn't change the fact that they're all Compelling. So it's almost like a begrudging respect that I feel for Ling Wen, if I were to boil it down into simple terms.

aaaaaaaaaa The Horrors(tm) :sob: Even though I could talk about Xie Lian's arc through that part of his backstory for a million years, you're so right that Hua Cheng's arc through it is also so interesting to watch. It really goes to prove that Hua Cheng is different from everyone else in Xie Lian's life up until this point, because yes there's the very obvious throughline of Hua Cheng wanting to protect Xie Lian (rather than expecting his protection), but even more importantly that feeling never changes even when Xie Lian has his mini corruption arc.

Like, Hua Cheng fell in love with the pure and virtuous Crown Prince of Xianle but not for that quality. Instead of being ashamed and looking at Xie Lian with scorn when he was like "What if I kill everyone actually" Hua Cheng is like "Then let me be your sword". There's the element of not wanting Xie Lian to dirty himself that Hua Cheng carries for the entire story but the point is in that he is not a voice who would tell Xie Lian to stop having those thoughts if it's truly what he wants (Unlike what his parents or Feng Xin and Mu Qing would probably say).

I'm going to write an essay about their character dynamic one day istg I am chewing through the drywall

The cave statues chapter......... *passes away*. Like on one hand that chapter is so funny because yes Hua Cheng is just an absolute certified freak (POV my roommate telling me earlier on in my reading that HC is a porn addict and me being like "pssht noooo" but then getting to this chapter several months later and being like "O h.") but on the other hand THE CONFESSION??????? Like. All I can do is gesture wildly at the storyboard animatic that someone made of that scene on YouTube while absolutely fucking sobbing. There is a reason why the cover of volume 6 felt somehow more intimate than the cover of volume 4 where they're literally making out.

Anyway I'm patting Hua Cheng on the head like It's okay buddy Xie Lian loves you because you're a certified freak, he's seen too much of this world to be weirded out even a little bit. Which is why those two are perfect for each other <3

I'm glad you had so much fun on your reread, have fun with the brainworms :3

#navi answers #stardust-make-a-wish #Once again I am so sorry for my ability to Talk lmao

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buttercupjosh · 1 year ago

Text

Underneath the Stars

(Gif credit to @jonasiegenthaler)

Word count: 3,075

Warnings: none

Genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert

A/N: I’m back at it again by participating in @wyattjohnston’s Summer Fic Exchange and this is my story for @ilyasorokinn, written with the very handsome Nico Hischier. I hope that you like it. I’m sorry in advance that it kinda goes by fast and about the timeline format but I just wanted to try something different. I also decided to challenge myself a bit more by writing adding some dialogue so please bear with me if the conversations aren’t that great. This is an established relationship story (so there’s no meet cute this time, which was a challenge for me to not write one). I’ve also never been to New York City before so I used Google to help me and I apologize for any inaccuracies. Title and some of the story elements comes from Underneath the Stars by Mariah Carey (which I highly recommend listening to). There are also some elements of the journey across NYC events that take place in “The Sun Is Also A Star” by Nicola Yoon (book). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌 (P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

Optional/recommended listening: Underneath the Stars by Mariah Carey

“Who needs a crowd when you’re happy at a party of two?” -Late To The Party by Kacey Musgraves

7:05-10:00 pm

Another Devils season had yet again come to an end without making the Stanley Cup Final. It was a bit disappointing but the nice thing about being eliminated early is that you had some additional time to spend with your boyfriend, Nico. You were excited to see him but you knew your time together would be bittersweet. You were granted a summer sports medicine fellowship opportunity in California but that meant that you would spend the whole summer away from Nico and you would not be able to visit him in Switzerland either. Nico was happy for you, achieving something that you worked really hard for, but he was also a bit sad that you wouldn’t be able to spend the off-season together and be in the same place without worrying about the hockey season for a few months. You and Nico had been separated at times before, while he was away on road trips, but this felt much different.

For your last outing together before going your separate ways, you agreed to go into the city to watch the Mets play against your favorite team, the San Francisco Giants. Yes, although you were dating the captain of a hockey team, your favorite sport was baseball. Despite being surrounded by others, the PATH train ride into the city felt like you were the only 2 people on board. During your trip, you noticed that the light from the waning sunset bathed Nico in the warmest glow. Before you knew it, you were in New York City and continued the rest of your journey. After taking the main NYC subway, you arrived to your destination at Citi Field and had a lot of fun at the game. It was so nice to enjoy your favorite pastime with Nico and it didn’t hurt that he looked good in a baseball jersey as well. Every time you watched a game, Nico always asked you questions about what was going on since baseball isn’t as popular in Switzerland. It was fun to be on the other side as the one explaining the game to him, just like he would explain things to you when you watched his beloved soccer together or had questions about hockey. One nice memory that was made during the game was singing along to “Take Me Out to The Ball Game”; the song was such a classic and Nico even joked that there should be a hockey version of the song, which made you giggle. Your time together at the game flew by and to your delight, the Giants won.

————————————————————

10:10 pm-10:15 pm

After the game, you planned on taking the subway together back over to New Jersey but Nico could sense that something was off on your walk to the station.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look upset.” Nico asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Nico, I just don’t want this night to end. I’ve been having such a good time with you and I know once you leave, I won’t see you for a while,” you replied, trying to hold back tears.

Nico felt the same way, he knew he would go back to Jersey, go to sleep, and have to wait months before seeing you again.

“It doesn’t have to end, my love. What else should we do then?”, Nico said with a smile on his face.

————————————————————

10:40 pm-12:56 am

After your conversation, you decided to go to a late night showing of Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse at Alamo Drafthouse. Before the movie, you and Nico stopped at a nearby bodega to get some snacks to sneak in. Nico didn’t care if the snacks were a bit unhealthy because it was the off-season and although it was wrong to sneak in outside food, it’s not like the theater employees were going to kick you out anyways. There weren't many people around for the showing so it was almost like the movie was shown just for the two of you. During the movie, Nico subconsciously put his arm around you and tried to pull you in closer; he would miss movie nights with you. It was a rare opportunity for him to just sit down and relax with his lover. The movie itself was super amazing and after the movie, you and Nico had a lengthy conversation about the events of the film.

————————————————————

1:00 am-2:00 am

Sleep may be an athlete’s secret weapon but even at 1 am, Nico still had energy. You ended up having a game night at Brooklyn Bowl since it was the only fun place that wasn’t a bar that was still open. Of course, being an athlete meant there was a competitive side to Nico so he was trying his best to win the game. You, on the other hand, were just having fun and didn’t care as much about winning. Nico’s goal was to get a strike but he kept knocking most of the pins down except for 1 or 2 so when you got a strike in your casual play, Nico was ecstatic. He lifted you up in the air and spun you around, making you laugh. All of the other patrons must have thought he was drunk but no, he was just sober and so happy for you. You were slightly embarrassed by your boyfriend’s excited gesture but you didn’t care because yet again, he made you laugh. Hearing you laugh was a sound that Nico would miss while you were apart from each other. Despite striking out, you didn’t win the game and Nico never achieved getting a strike but he had more points so winning allowed him to gain even more energy for the rest of the evening.

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2:30-3:00 am

Since Brooklyn Bowl closes at 2 am, there was still time in the night and exhaustion hadn’t hit either of you yet so you and Nico headed back towards Manhattan. Nico decided that the best way to expel some of his extra energy was singing and bopping around. Nico’s actions inspired an activity. You decided to go for a late-night karaoke session at a karaoke bar called Karaoke Boho Orchard in the Lower East Side. Thankfully, this karaoke bar had private rooms so you wouldn’t have to worry about singing on stage in front of strangers.

Nico wanted to sing first and he dedicated “Lover” by Taylor Swift to you; it was a song that you loved dearly. Although Nico’s vocals were a bit off-key, you were so in awe observing him sing and you began to quietly tear up a little bit. While you were wrapped up in your bubble of awe, you didn’t quite realize that Nico had finished singing; you didn’t even think about what song you were going to sing. After scrolling through the song catalog, you serenaded Nico to “Always Be My Baby” by Mariah Carey. The song reminded the two of you that no matter what separates you, you’ll always be a part of each other. Nico’s heart began to fill with so much amusement and joy with your musical tribute. Listening to you enunciate the words of the song sounded almost like poetry. If Nico wasn’t weak in the knees with loving you from before, watching you sing to him made him hit the ground. After you completed the song, Nico suggested singing a duet together and you settled on “Islands In The Stream” by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers. Although it was cheesy, singing love songs to your lover and with your lover reminded you both that the love you shared was so strong. For the rest of your time, you and Nico continued to sing different songs. It was so much fun singing and dancing together; it was a side that rarely came out but whenever it did, you both always had a good time.

————————————————————

3:00-3:45 am

The karaoke room was paid by the hour but Nico was a bit hungry so the two of you made a quick stop at Katz’s Deli since it was the only food place open nearby. The restaurant was surprisingly not filled with many people so you and Nico sat close to the walls; observing the wall photos, trying to figure out who the famous faces were.

“Do you think I should tell them who I am so I can get my picture on the wall?” Nico jokingly asked while you waited for your food to come out.

“Nico, you do know this is Rangers territory? They would rather burn your picture than put it up” you whisper replied.

“Y/n, you do know that the diners in Jersey are better right?” Nico said in a not-so-serious louder tone.

“Nico, how dare you insult an iconic New York institution?” you gritted through your teeth.

You playfully swatted at him and thankfully, your waiter arrived with your order of potato latkes and matzo ball soup. Over the meal, you and Nico chatted and people-watched those who came in and out of the restaurant.

————————————————————

3:45-5:00 am

As the night dragged into the almost sunrise hours, you started getting tired. Nico suggested that you rent a hotel room and rest; he knew that you would probably fall asleep on the train ride back to New Jersey and preferred for you to rest somewhere somewhat comfortable. The closest hotel was the Hotel Indigo Lower East Side, which was right next door to Katz’s Deli. You pleaded with Nico that he didn’t have to pay for a last-minute hotel room but he insisted. The front desk person who checked in was a Devils fan so they gave you a discount and a room with a spectacular view of the city. Nico embraced you as you lay in bed and you tried your best to fall asleep but you couldn’t quite stop staring at the sea of lights from the City That Never Sleeps right outside of your window. You wanted to continue to talk to Nico but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was knocked out. Over time, your eyes fell heavy and you went to sleep.

————————————————————

5:00-6:00 am

You couldn’t quite stay asleep, your brain raced with thoughts about how your time with Nico was winding down, even though, he was right next to you. You watched Nico as he slept, matching your breaths with the rise and fall of his chest, wondering what he was dreaming about; he looked so peaceful. You tried to quietly slip out of Nico’s arms but he kept pulling you back to hold you close to him. Nico’s eyes fluttered open once he felt the flat space of the mattress after you successfully broke free to use the bathroom. When you emerged from the bathroom, Nico’s big brown eyes greeted yours and he was sitting up in bed.

“Are you okay? Do you want to switch rooms?”, Nico asked with the same hint of concern from earlier in the evening.

“No, I’m good. I just can’t sleep”, you replied back, “ but you can go back to bed.”

“Do you want to leave and go back home then?”, Nico suggested.

Hearing him say that made the reality of your time ending together hit you in a painful spot but it was for the best; you couldn’t stop putting off the inevitable separation that was going to happen soon. You agreed to go home. On the elevator ride downstairs, Nico expressed that he would want to come back to see more parts of the city and for a staycation with you and you suggested that since the hotel had a rooftop bar, it would be a good spot to host a team party.

Instead of taking a train to get there, you decided to walk to the PATH train station that would return you back to New Jersey. On your walk, you and Nico passed through sections of the New York University campus and even made a quick stop at Washington Square Park. Although the park wasn’t as large as Central Park, it was nice to stroll around together and there was a warm gentle breeze that wrapped around you. There weren’t many people around, just a few joggers and people walking their dogs. At one point during your walk, Nico wanted to take a quick break to sit on the grass. Sitting on the grass eventually turned into laying on the grass. There were still a few stars out from the previous evening but not long before, you watched the sun begin to spill the warm colors into the sky; the rising sunlight dressed you in a warm glow. It was hitting Nico bad that this would be the last time that he would hold you for the rest of the summer and he planted a kiss on your head. You felt a tear hit your scalp and you looked up to see Nico crying a little. You had never seen Nico cry like this before but you reassured him that everything was going to be okay. After the sun fully rose, you and Nico left the park to go home. As you walked under the Washington Square Arch, you squeezed Nico’s hand three times as a quiet gesture to remind him that you loved him.

————————————————————

6:30-7:30 am

The train ride back to Jersey had much fewer people than the train ride over. You and Nico sat in the back, wrapped in your own personal bubble. Nico kept trying to stay awake to maximize the time you had left together but he ended up taking a nap on your shoulder. You still couldn’t quite fall fully asleep yet. Although he didn’t have to do so, you were grateful that Nico sacrificed his time and sleep schedule to spend all night with you. Nico felt similarly; there was no one else in this world that he would be willing to spend sunset to sunrise in NYC, running on little sleep than with you. While he was asleep, you slipped a custom handmade letter bead bracelet onto Nico’s wrist. It was neutral colored and it had your initials together on it so everytime Nico looked down at his wrist, he would be reminded of you. You and Nico hadn’t planned on exchanging gifts before you left but you decided to make it for for him once you realized that you wouldn’t be spending the summer together.

After arriving in Jersey, you and Nico went to a local diner to share one last meal together. As you waited for your order, you were calmly soaking in your final moments with Nico but he was a bit antsy in his seat. Something was on his mind and he couldn’t quite keep in any longer.

“Can we take it to go? I want one final moment with just us.” Nico declared.

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8:00 am

Over your last breakfast at your apartment, you and Nico reflected on last night’s events and the memories you made together. The time you had together sailed by so fast and you both had such a great time; it was both beautiful and bittersweet at the same time. You were obviously surrounded by people everywhere you went that evening but at times, it felt like the city felt like it was your own secret, special place.

Nico’s flight to Switzerland wasn’t scheduled to leave until the following afternoon so he still had time to get some sleep and finalize any final things before leaving the country until returning for training camp in September. After breakfast was done, you and Nico migrated toward the couch to watch the news; watching the morning news together was a rare thing that you got to do together whenever Nico had a weekend off day. You tried your best to stay awake but a wave of tiredness crashed hard into you and you ended up drifting off to sleep in Nico’s arms on the couch. As you lay deep asleep in Nico’s arms, he reluctantly said goodbye. He really didn’t want to leave you behind and wish that he could just move your summer fellowship to Switzerland so that you could be enjoying a Swiss summer with him. He would spend part of his time, missing you being so far away and trying to perfect a potato latke recipe to match the one you had enjoyed at Katz’s Deli. Being this close to you for one last time, Nico could feel himself fading into you and feel the parts of you that faded into him with each minute that passed and he had hoped that these parts would stick around long after he left (which they did).

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Time unknown

You woke up hours later on the couch, feeling a bit disoriented. The TV was turned off and you were covered in a blanket. It was dark outside and Nico was gone but he left a gift behind for you. Before going to shower, you noticed that there was a stack of Polaroids and one of Nico’s bracelets on the coffee table. The stack contained all of the pictures from the evening before that Nico took on his phone: the photo of you and Nico at a baseball game that was taken by a fan, a photo of you singing karaoke, an image of Nico taking a selfie while you were looking off-guard at the Katz’ Deli picture wall, a photo of your side profile looking out the window on the train ride home and a Nico selfie on the grass at Washington Square Park to round out the stack. On the back of each Polaroid, Nico wrote “I love you so much” and other sweet notes. You were slightly confused as to how Nico did this but you realized that he had secretly stashed his mobile Polaroid printer at your apartment. It was such a kind gesture that Nico put these photos together for you. Last night felt like a dream but the love captured in those photographs were the most significant memories you would hold onto. Whether you were hundreds of miles or a few inches apart, the love you both shared was always there, lingering around in your hearts. It sucked that you would be separated for a brief moment in time but each day apart was one day closer to being together again.

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